Post by Cass on Dec 16, 2011 15:05:04 GMT 10
Prom King and Queen Winners
by Grifftastical
by Grifftastical
“They’re at it again,” Roger grunted, glaring out the window. His arms were crossed in surly discontent and his cheap paper crown was beginning to look worse for wear.
Kel slid down in her seat and picked at the fraying knee of her training pants.
Something thudded loudly at the base of the tower. Kel swore Owen yelled something about ‘rescue’, ‘virtue’, and ‘lemon yellow underthings’, but she wasn’t willing to get up so she could lean out of the window and ask him to say it again. Besides, from the look on Roger’s face, it was best she didn’t know.
He stepped away from the window with one last sneering glare before he strode over to the three legged stool by the fire. Roger looked from the stool to Kel’s moth-eaten armchair with affront, but she simply ignored him and continued destroying her clothes.
With a regal sweep of his robes, he sat; legs arranged attractively even on the wobbly seat. “What has my kingdom become,” Roger asked with weighty disdain, “that you are the most accomplished woman in the land?”
Kel sighed, tipping her head back against the headrest with a gentle loll. “A place where they elect corpses to office by popular vote, apparently.” With a wince, she fumbled a hand to her head and pulled off the cheap plastic tiara, dropping it on the floor next to her chair.
“Yes,” Roger hummed with satisfaction, edges of his lips curling with damned Conte attractiveness. “It is heartening to know it isn’t doomed.”
“By your definition, perhaps,” Kel snorted, flicking a piece of lint into the cold fireplace.
There was another thud below. Roger winced and pinched the bridge of his nose. Kel sympathized.
“If those infernal fans of yours don’t lay off the architecture, I’m flaying them alive.” Roger decided.
She shrugged helplessly, “They won’t.”
“Well, then.” Roger rolled up his sleeves with sharp, controlled twists of his wrists, “There’s no sense waiting to do tomorrow what can be done today.”
Kel smothered a laugh with her hands, but it must have been Neal’s smart mouth rubbing off on her when she replied, “How virtuous of you.”
Roger paused and gave her a dark frown as he stood. “I’ll have you know I am a man of many virtues.”
“I’m sure,” Kel nodded, taking advantage of the empty stool by putting her feet up.
Roger flicked a piece of dubious turf off the sole of her boot with disgust and rubbed his fingers clean. “Ambitions beyond your understanding, I’m sure. Likely a nauseating infatuation with my cousin, as well. It seems to be a tradition amongst you women of action.”
“Not particularly,” Kel shrugged lazily, crossing her hands over her stomach and settling in for a nap. “He’s rather vain and arrogant for how righteous he claims to be.”
Poised over a box of knickknacks and other possible useful things, Roger paused and turned, giving her a considering once-over. “Is that so?” He asked, a purr creeping into his voice.
“Mmm.” She agreed, yawning lazily in the afternoon warmth.
Roger tapped a finger on the edge of the musty crate. “And what do you think of me?”
“Mad, murderous, and malicious,” she alliterated. “But at least you’re honest about it.”
“Very good,” Roger agreed cheerfully, snapping the lid on the box loudly. As Kel started awake, Roger crossed the room with a confident ease she couldn’t help but admire just the tiniest bit. He knelt, collecting her tiara off the floor and blew the light collection of dust bunnies off the corner. “I think,” Roger set it delicately on her head, ghosting the back of his fingers against her temples, “perhaps this kingdom has the right idea after all.”
Kel raised an eyebrow in surprise.
The ruckus outside quieted suddenly, and Neal’s lone voice carried in the open window. “Kel,” He said mournfully. “Alanna told me to tell you that if you let him kill you before she kills him again, she’s going to kill me and I have a child to think of, so please don’t die?”
Kel sighed, dropping her head in her hands. “I just wanted a nap.”