yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flair) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
metamorphosis2010-08-28 09:21 am
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-08-28 09:21 am
Entry tags:
153;
Title: Snowday
Characters: Asch (Luke), Natalia; Duke Fabre in passing
Rating: G
This is before the kidnapping, so Asch is referred to as "Luke". H-haha.
“Gotcha!”
It didn't snow very often in Baticul. Even then, Luke didn't have a lot of time to go out and play in it – he had work to do, etiquette lessons to finish, and a father to make proud.
Even so, Natalia always found a way to get him out.
“I told you I had good aim. I've been practicing so I can start archery soon.”
“I know. Let me finish the fort first, though.”
“Who needs a fort when you can just pummel your enemy with projectiles?”
“The best offense is a good defense, Natalia.”
This one had been through his window, climbing in and pulling him off the bed, away from books and papers, laughing and pestering him until he had finally given into the princess' demands (he had even mentioned, while being dragged on the way here, how unladylike it was for a princess to climb through windows, but she had only gave him a flat look and brushed off the comment as easily as if it had been dust). Now he was bundled up in his winter gear, packing snowballs and making a fort. When said fort was finished, tall enough to deflect any snowballs yet sturdy enough to stay up even after impacts, he peeked over the top edge and got a face full of snow.
“Another one!”
“Natalia --”
He was scowling, but the laughter in his voice was evident; Natalia laughed harder, ungloved hands shaking and turning red from the cold as she shaped another snowball. The moment she got up to throw it, though, she felt cold seep through her shirt and found Luke throwing the packed snow at her as he ran over.
“That's cheating!”
“No it isn't!”
He tackled her into the snow, pinning her down and grinning. She blew warm breath at his face, giggling when he wrinkled his nose and giggling harder when his hands drifted down her sides and started their tickle attack.
“L-Luke! That's n-not fair!”
Instead of answering, Luke wisely decided to ignore her words, focused instead on watching the warm blush creep up Natalia's cheeks from the cold and the tickling. He saw her eyes suddenly widen, mouth pressing into a line to try and repress the giggles that still slipped out, and he glanced to the side to see what she was looking at.
His father - watching them, with that scowl on his face; disapproving of such activities. They weren't fit for the next ruler of Kimlasca. There couldn't be playtime like this. His mother was absent – the cold had worsened her illness, as it usually did during the winter – and so there was nothing to soften the metaphorical kick to his stomach. He rolled off of Natalia and sat up, keeping his eyes on the ground and only looking back up when he heard his father move on. Natalia sat up as well, placing a hand on his shoulder; he shrugged it off and stood up.
“I'm sorry, Natalia. I've got work to finish.”
“Luke, please --”
“Natalia.”
He was glad she knew when to not press the issue, though that didn't mean she wasn't angry; she refused his hand to help her up and nearly stormed inside, the only thing restricting that behavior being her soaked and cold dress and the frantic pulling on gloves routine. He sighed and rubbed the back of his hand, wincing at the stinging, icy sensation of his wet glove, and returned to his room.
How was he ever supposed to impress his father if nothing he did mattered?
Characters: Asch (Luke), Natalia; Duke Fabre in passing
Rating: G
This is before the kidnapping, so Asch is referred to as "Luke". H-haha.
“Gotcha!”
It didn't snow very often in Baticul. Even then, Luke didn't have a lot of time to go out and play in it – he had work to do, etiquette lessons to finish, and a father to make proud.
Even so, Natalia always found a way to get him out.
“I told you I had good aim. I've been practicing so I can start archery soon.”
“I know. Let me finish the fort first, though.”
“Who needs a fort when you can just pummel your enemy with projectiles?”
“The best offense is a good defense, Natalia.”
This one had been through his window, climbing in and pulling him off the bed, away from books and papers, laughing and pestering him until he had finally given into the princess' demands (he had even mentioned, while being dragged on the way here, how unladylike it was for a princess to climb through windows, but she had only gave him a flat look and brushed off the comment as easily as if it had been dust). Now he was bundled up in his winter gear, packing snowballs and making a fort. When said fort was finished, tall enough to deflect any snowballs yet sturdy enough to stay up even after impacts, he peeked over the top edge and got a face full of snow.
“Another one!”
“Natalia --”
He was scowling, but the laughter in his voice was evident; Natalia laughed harder, ungloved hands shaking and turning red from the cold as she shaped another snowball. The moment she got up to throw it, though, she felt cold seep through her shirt and found Luke throwing the packed snow at her as he ran over.
“That's cheating!”
“No it isn't!”
He tackled her into the snow, pinning her down and grinning. She blew warm breath at his face, giggling when he wrinkled his nose and giggling harder when his hands drifted down her sides and started their tickle attack.
“L-Luke! That's n-not fair!”
Instead of answering, Luke wisely decided to ignore her words, focused instead on watching the warm blush creep up Natalia's cheeks from the cold and the tickling. He saw her eyes suddenly widen, mouth pressing into a line to try and repress the giggles that still slipped out, and he glanced to the side to see what she was looking at.
His father - watching them, with that scowl on his face; disapproving of such activities. They weren't fit for the next ruler of Kimlasca. There couldn't be playtime like this. His mother was absent – the cold had worsened her illness, as it usually did during the winter – and so there was nothing to soften the metaphorical kick to his stomach. He rolled off of Natalia and sat up, keeping his eyes on the ground and only looking back up when he heard his father move on. Natalia sat up as well, placing a hand on his shoulder; he shrugged it off and stood up.
“I'm sorry, Natalia. I've got work to finish.”
“Luke, please --”
“Natalia.”
He was glad she knew when to not press the issue, though that didn't mean she wasn't angry; she refused his hand to help her up and nearly stormed inside, the only thing restricting that behavior being her soaked and cold dress and the frantic pulling on gloves routine. He sighed and rubbed the back of his hand, wincing at the stinging, icy sensation of his wet glove, and returned to his room.
How was he ever supposed to impress his father if nothing he did mattered?