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metamorphosis2011-05-12 07:09 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2011-05-12 07:09 pm
Entry tags:
238;
Title: embellishment
Characters: Eco, Belca
Rating: G
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_kisses's prompt news; letter.
Even in a land as large as Azelprade, news travels fast. Moreso if it's by word of mouth and birds; every day, pigeons sail to and fro from window to window, and bards listen to the new songs and sing them as well, embellishing them more and more as they're passed on. The stories range from fighting giants in the unexplored mountains to the north of the royal capital, to the simplest, and original tale of a prince and a murder.
That's the one Eco sings outside as the weather begins to warm, sitting against a tree or a fountain and picking at the strings of his lute until people begin to converge and congeal around him. That's when he starts, low and bold, slowly spinning a web and bringing them in. It isn't often Belca gets to watch - not that he wants to watch either, though there is little left to do in the day once things he considered too princely for himself to do have been done - and when he does it's almost a treat. It's interesting to watch the way Eco wields words as well as a captain wields a boat, or a knight wields a sword. He stays to the back, closer to the door than out of it, listening to the story and frowning.
It isn't as embellished as the others they've heard about, but it's still played up in a few parts, making the rogue prince and everyone else much less so; it makes him look far too admirable, and it's when children start playing games and pretending they're the prince, the good guy, that Belca confronts him about it.
It's a quiet day, unusually so; it's likely because it's a day of rest, a day to relax and drink and sleep and not bother stupid bards. It's the one day he has Eco to himself, though, and he takes the opportunity to corner him in the inn's front room, at the farthest table in the back. Eco's already on his second pint of ale - it smells awful, but the bard isn't drunk or the least bit tipsy, soemthing Belca both wonders about and admires, a little, considering his size - and raises his glass when Belca takes a seat. There's a small, awkward pause as Eco takes a sip of it, sets it down, and stretches.
"Mmm~ This town's great. How long can we stay, Belca? I know we gotta get a move on if we wanna visit a lot more towns, but this one's so nice~ The weather's beautiful, too. You almost wouldn't know it's winter."
Belca snorts and shakes his head. He idly traces some old grafitti carved into the wooden table, and summons up his words. He's never been a wordsmith - unlike Eco, of course - and his tact is less than none, but he manages to think carefully about how to address it and manages to mess it up anyhow.
"Your song. It makes me too admirable."
"You are that admirable though. You're the only one who doesn't think so."
"Eco, I mean it."
"Yeah, and so do I! Geez, give the guy writing this stuff some credit, would you? Every day I watch you and add onto this song, I admire you more and more. And that blush keeps getting cuter every time I see it~ It suits you!"
Belca scowls and pushes his face into his hands, feeling his ears burn hot. Eco laughs and claps him on the shoulder twice, and he doesn't look up until he hears Eco's chair creak and feels the bard beside him. He chances it then, and he's only half-surprised when there's a hand held out to him and the other on his seat. Before he can say a word, Eco's already taking his hand and pulling him up, and there's a two second delay before it can register in his mind about how close they are, with this movement. Eco's lips brush chastely over his knuckles, and he yanks back his hand and almost trips over his own chair, saving himself on the table and pretending he isn't blushing.
Eco laughs again, helps him up a second time - without the kiss, luckily - and hefts his lute into his arms.
"Just relax, okay? You promised me your song, and I'll sing it just like I said I would. I only sing the truth, and you know there's worse embellishments than what I put in. So stop worrying."
"I'm not worried, I'm--"
"You're admirable and strong, Belca. You're someone people can count on and look to for guidance. You're a lot like your older brother, Prince Hector."
He's stunned long enough by such a weighty compliment for Eco to slip out of the inn and onto the streets, into his element among the wives and children.
Characters: Eco, Belca
Rating: G
For
30_kisses's prompt news; letter.Even in a land as large as Azelprade, news travels fast. Moreso if it's by word of mouth and birds; every day, pigeons sail to and fro from window to window, and bards listen to the new songs and sing them as well, embellishing them more and more as they're passed on. The stories range from fighting giants in the unexplored mountains to the north of the royal capital, to the simplest, and original tale of a prince and a murder.
That's the one Eco sings outside as the weather begins to warm, sitting against a tree or a fountain and picking at the strings of his lute until people begin to converge and congeal around him. That's when he starts, low and bold, slowly spinning a web and bringing them in. It isn't often Belca gets to watch - not that he wants to watch either, though there is little left to do in the day once things he considered too princely for himself to do have been done - and when he does it's almost a treat. It's interesting to watch the way Eco wields words as well as a captain wields a boat, or a knight wields a sword. He stays to the back, closer to the door than out of it, listening to the story and frowning.
It isn't as embellished as the others they've heard about, but it's still played up in a few parts, making the rogue prince and everyone else much less so; it makes him look far too admirable, and it's when children start playing games and pretending they're the prince, the good guy, that Belca confronts him about it.
It's a quiet day, unusually so; it's likely because it's a day of rest, a day to relax and drink and sleep and not bother stupid bards. It's the one day he has Eco to himself, though, and he takes the opportunity to corner him in the inn's front room, at the farthest table in the back. Eco's already on his second pint of ale - it smells awful, but the bard isn't drunk or the least bit tipsy, soemthing Belca both wonders about and admires, a little, considering his size - and raises his glass when Belca takes a seat. There's a small, awkward pause as Eco takes a sip of it, sets it down, and stretches.
"Mmm~ This town's great. How long can we stay, Belca? I know we gotta get a move on if we wanna visit a lot more towns, but this one's so nice~ The weather's beautiful, too. You almost wouldn't know it's winter."
Belca snorts and shakes his head. He idly traces some old grafitti carved into the wooden table, and summons up his words. He's never been a wordsmith - unlike Eco, of course - and his tact is less than none, but he manages to think carefully about how to address it and manages to mess it up anyhow.
"Your song. It makes me too admirable."
"You are that admirable though. You're the only one who doesn't think so."
"Eco, I mean it."
"Yeah, and so do I! Geez, give the guy writing this stuff some credit, would you? Every day I watch you and add onto this song, I admire you more and more. And that blush keeps getting cuter every time I see it~ It suits you!"
Belca scowls and pushes his face into his hands, feeling his ears burn hot. Eco laughs and claps him on the shoulder twice, and he doesn't look up until he hears Eco's chair creak and feels the bard beside him. He chances it then, and he's only half-surprised when there's a hand held out to him and the other on his seat. Before he can say a word, Eco's already taking his hand and pulling him up, and there's a two second delay before it can register in his mind about how close they are, with this movement. Eco's lips brush chastely over his knuckles, and he yanks back his hand and almost trips over his own chair, saving himself on the table and pretending he isn't blushing.
Eco laughs again, helps him up a second time - without the kiss, luckily - and hefts his lute into his arms.
"Just relax, okay? You promised me your song, and I'll sing it just like I said I would. I only sing the truth, and you know there's worse embellishments than what I put in. So stop worrying."
"I'm not worried, I'm--"
"You're admirable and strong, Belca. You're someone people can count on and look to for guidance. You're a lot like your older brother, Prince Hector."
He's stunned long enough by such a weighty compliment for Eco to slip out of the inn and onto the streets, into his element among the wives and children.