Post by Shhasow on Apr 25, 2013 8:51:52 GMT 10
Title: An Inexplicable Tea Party
Rating: PG
Word Count: 515
Pairing: G/R
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: Inspired by the prompt “A demented tea party”, which explains everything. Thank you, Griff. I’m not quite sure that this was what you had in mind. Warnings for silliness?
“Are you sure this is completely necessary?”
“Quite so,” Duke Roger replied as he sipped his tea, pinkie delicately up and out. George scowled as he eyed the blank figures. They were starting to give him the willies.
“Roger…”
“I do believe that is my name, yes.”
“They’re staring at me.”
“They don’t have eyes, boy, not real ones. Drink your tea.”
The Rogue glared at the cup on his plate, muttering “am not a boy” just loud enough to be heard. He dipped one finger in the brown liquid and stuck it in his mouth.
“Charming.” Roger smiled faintly, carefully adjusting the blue silk gown on the Queen. “And you, dear Aunt, are looking beautiful as always.
“I just don’t understand why we have to do this,” complained George. He poked at the King doll. “And if you went through all this trouble to make these, why couldn’t you have made one for the Lord Provost, too?”
“I didn’t think about it.” Roger mock-fed the Queen some tea.
George poked the Alan doll, a muleish expression on his face. “You couldn’t have left Alan out of it? I mean, he is my friend.”
“Hardly. The squire has to go first, you know that George. Jon will never die so long as Alan is alive.”
“I suppose.” He sighed, and comforted himself with the chocolate biscuits. At least they were rather tasty. “And you really needed another person here? I mean, I know what you’re into, but it’s one thing to know and another thing entirely to see you feeding a bunch of wax dolls.”
“I told you, George, this is a solemn ritual vital to the success of the magic. It’s written in the book, if you don’t believe me, that the dolls must be fed a ritualistic last meal before the magic will seed into the wax.”
“Does it have to be a tea party?”
“I have found the most success with it, yes.”
George made a face at the King doll. How many times had Roger done this, anyway? The rogue didn’t really want to know the answer, so he didn’t ask. Roger would tell him - the man had no shame.
“And by the way, no, I didn’t need you at all.”
George set his cup down with a clatter. “Then why did you ask me in the first place? You know how I feel about this.” He waved a hand at the Alan doll that sported a serious expression on its face. The resemblance was scary.
“Perhaps I wanted your company? I haven’t seen you in days, George. I was beginning to worry that you had forgotten all about me.”
George couldn’t hold back his smile. “If that’s all you wanted, all you had to do was ask,” he said lightly as turned to feed some crumbs to the little Alan. “Want some tea, Alan?”
“Keep your pinky out, George. It’s essential to the magic.”
“I am sure that it is.” He rolled his eyes at Alan, and whispered, “I’m just going to go with it. It’s easier that way.”
Rating: PG
Word Count: 515
Pairing: G/R
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: Inspired by the prompt “A demented tea party”, which explains everything. Thank you, Griff. I’m not quite sure that this was what you had in mind. Warnings for silliness?
“Are you sure this is completely necessary?”
“Quite so,” Duke Roger replied as he sipped his tea, pinkie delicately up and out. George scowled as he eyed the blank figures. They were starting to give him the willies.
“Roger…”
“I do believe that is my name, yes.”
“They’re staring at me.”
“They don’t have eyes, boy, not real ones. Drink your tea.”
The Rogue glared at the cup on his plate, muttering “am not a boy” just loud enough to be heard. He dipped one finger in the brown liquid and stuck it in his mouth.
“Charming.” Roger smiled faintly, carefully adjusting the blue silk gown on the Queen. “And you, dear Aunt, are looking beautiful as always.
“I just don’t understand why we have to do this,” complained George. He poked at the King doll. “And if you went through all this trouble to make these, why couldn’t you have made one for the Lord Provost, too?”
“I didn’t think about it.” Roger mock-fed the Queen some tea.
George poked the Alan doll, a muleish expression on his face. “You couldn’t have left Alan out of it? I mean, he is my friend.”
“Hardly. The squire has to go first, you know that George. Jon will never die so long as Alan is alive.”
“I suppose.” He sighed, and comforted himself with the chocolate biscuits. At least they were rather tasty. “And you really needed another person here? I mean, I know what you’re into, but it’s one thing to know and another thing entirely to see you feeding a bunch of wax dolls.”
“I told you, George, this is a solemn ritual vital to the success of the magic. It’s written in the book, if you don’t believe me, that the dolls must be fed a ritualistic last meal before the magic will seed into the wax.”
“Does it have to be a tea party?”
“I have found the most success with it, yes.”
George made a face at the King doll. How many times had Roger done this, anyway? The rogue didn’t really want to know the answer, so he didn’t ask. Roger would tell him - the man had no shame.
“And by the way, no, I didn’t need you at all.”
George set his cup down with a clatter. “Then why did you ask me in the first place? You know how I feel about this.” He waved a hand at the Alan doll that sported a serious expression on its face. The resemblance was scary.
“Perhaps I wanted your company? I haven’t seen you in days, George. I was beginning to worry that you had forgotten all about me.”
George couldn’t hold back his smile. “If that’s all you wanted, all you had to do was ask,” he said lightly as turned to feed some crumbs to the little Alan. “Want some tea, Alan?”
“Keep your pinky out, George. It’s essential to the magic.”
“I am sure that it is.” He rolled his eyes at Alan, and whispered, “I’m just going to go with it. It’s easier that way.”