Post by Muse on Jun 1, 2013 22:16:29 GMT 10
Title: Dear Jonathan, PG
Rating: PG
Word Count: 346
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: Alanna writes Jon a letter.
Dearest Jonathan,
Your eyes are like limpid blue pools of blue water that makes a blue lake. All the other ladies of the court agree. Gary does too, but he doesn’t want me to tell you. Oops.
Your hair is a gentle black wave, like the water around Port Caynn on a moonless night. It shimmers in the soft light of your office, and I can’t help but notice as you write another report.
You hands, clasping the quill gently, scrawl delicate phrases like “grain tax” and “mandatory fees to the Crown” remind me of the skittering movements of spiders dancing on the parchment.
You are grace embodied, which I remembered earlier as you challenged me to a fencing match.
Your strides, so fluid, as you walked to the center of the practice ring.
Your sword, gleaming as you unsheathed it.
Your seamless defense, as I leapt to the offensive.
Your silver tongue, turning the air blue as you tripped over your own two feet. Really, where were you raised?
You are also noble and chivalrous, which was proven to me when you suddenly threw a dirty street kick into the mix after your recovery from that fall (I may or may not have been nice and allowed you to recover your feet.)
What, you think I didn’t recognize my own husband’s dirty tactics? You underestimate me.
You are so fabulous and lovely, I cannot help but wonder what brings you unceasingly back to my side time and again.
(If you do not stop messing around and mooning at your horrible drawings of Thayet when you think I’m not looking, I will hurt you, see if I don’t. Knock it off.)
Yours truly, forever and always (and not just because I swore fealty, stop, I’m trying to be romantic)
Alanna of Trebond and Olau
***
Dear Alanna,
I hate you. Don’t you have work to be doing?
Don’t make me come over there.
No love,
Jon
***
Dearest Darling Jonathan,
I adore you too, pumpkin.
All my best,
Alanna
Rating: PG
Word Count: 346
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 3A
Summary: Alanna writes Jon a letter.
Dearest Jonathan,
Your eyes are like limpid blue pools of blue water that makes a blue lake. All the other ladies of the court agree. Gary does too, but he doesn’t want me to tell you. Oops.
Your hair is a gentle black wave, like the water around Port Caynn on a moonless night. It shimmers in the soft light of your office, and I can’t help but notice as you write another report.
You hands, clasping the quill gently, scrawl delicate phrases like “grain tax” and “mandatory fees to the Crown” remind me of the skittering movements of spiders dancing on the parchment.
You are grace embodied, which I remembered earlier as you challenged me to a fencing match.
Your strides, so fluid, as you walked to the center of the practice ring.
Your sword, gleaming as you unsheathed it.
Your seamless defense, as I leapt to the offensive.
Your silver tongue, turning the air blue as you tripped over your own two feet. Really, where were you raised?
You are also noble and chivalrous, which was proven to me when you suddenly threw a dirty street kick into the mix after your recovery from that fall (I may or may not have been nice and allowed you to recover your feet.)
What, you think I didn’t recognize my own husband’s dirty tactics? You underestimate me.
You are so fabulous and lovely, I cannot help but wonder what brings you unceasingly back to my side time and again.
(If you do not stop messing around and mooning at your horrible drawings of Thayet when you think I’m not looking, I will hurt you, see if I don’t. Knock it off.)
Yours truly, forever and always (and not just because I swore fealty, stop, I’m trying to be romantic)
Alanna of Trebond and Olau
***
Dear Alanna,
I hate you. Don’t you have work to be doing?
Don’t make me come over there.
No love,
Jon
***
Dearest Darling Jonathan,
I adore you too, pumpkin.
All my best,
Alanna