ext_109644 ([identity profile] annarti.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] yrae2006-06-24 04:35 am

Genesis 103

Title~ Prince
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still~ mine
Notes~ Genesis 103. Another introductory ficcu, this one for his Highness, Crown Prince Nolryn of Raykin. He's a luffly boi, he is =3

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Nolryn unslung his bow from his shoulder and drew one arrow from his quiver, nocking it into the bow in one smooth motion. He flicked his hair out of his eyes to fix them on the target ahead of him, then settled himself more comfortably in the saddle.

“Better get your hooves on, Nol!” Gylepi called from the sidelines. “Messenger coming!”

He glanced over towards the city, where a single camel was heading towards them.

Nolryn’s shoulders slouched. “We only just got here!” He sighed in annoyance, then kicked his heels firmly against Mongrel’s flanks.

The near-wild stallion lurched into action, rearing in a vague attempt at unhorsing his rider before tearing towards the target. Somehow, these cliff training sessions always felt to Nol like he was racing the blotchy cream stallion than his own records.

He fired as many arrows as accurately as he could at the target nailed to the cliff wall, simultaneously trying to keep control of his steed with no hands. He was able to let eighteen arrows fly before he had to grip the reins with his free hand and pull Mongrel to a near-halt, trotting slowly towards the target as he slung his bow back over his shoulder.

All the arrows had hit inside the two centre circles, but none had hit the thumbprint of middle red. He shrugged and began pulling his arrows out and sticking them back in his quiver. Could have been better, but not too bad, really.

He ran his fingers through his hair and readjusted his red bandana, cantering back to where the other three archers waited, more interested in the approaching messenger than Nol’s achievements.

The messenger was looking straight at Nolryn as she reigned her camel in, as though the other three weren’t there at all.

“His Majesty requires his Highness’s presence in the throne room immediately.”

Nol’s eyebrows had been gradually rising after the words “requires”, “throne room” and “immediately”. Usually he was merely requested in his office as soon as possible.

“You can’t put it on hold?” Gylepi asked him, arms folded.

Nol shook his head. “If Majesty needs me immediately, there’s no negotiating.” He turned back to the messenger. “Any idea what it’s about?”

The messenger shrugged. “He’s angry though, and there was a Kazinian with him.”

Nol could feel the colour drain from his face and his skin start prickling uncomfortably. “Short woman, wavy brown hair, green and yellow tunic?”

The messenger gave a curt nod.

“Ohh, Lin’s blood,” the prince swore. He violently kicked Mongrel into motion again, then yelled back over his shoulder at the three confused archers. “Don’t wait for me! I’ll be late to the pub tonight too, if I show up at all!”

He swore at himself again and kicked Mongrel to urge him faster. “I knew I should have passed that onto the trade ministers,” he muttered through gritted teeth. “High and holy blood of the goddesses… You’ve gone wrong before, Nol, but this about tops it.”

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