15min fic #43
Sep. 23rd, 2004 09:26 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annarti.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
yrae
Title~ Wager
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All charries are mine~ so there
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 43. Fear not, I'll continue this one for word 44, since the word fits. Sorta. Kinda. Not really.
~ ~ ~
“You can’t be serious.” The swordsman looked unconvinced by his statement as the two serving girls lined the glasses up on the table.
The prince laughed and slapped his comrade on the back. “Haven’t been more serious in my life, Melraan.” He stepped up onto the wooden bench, clapping his hands a few times to gain the attention of the bar’s patrons.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he cried over the rabble, then waited patiently for the rabble to quieten. “The present record of three glasses, laid down by the wonderful gentleman behind the bar, has stood for almost a decade. I mean no disrespect to the fine barman, but I’m certain I’m not the only one who considers nine years to be far too long standing for such a record.”
He grinned wryly, noticing the people closest to his table as their eyes fixed on the glasses before him. Obligingly, he gestured to them with one hand. “I have before me no less than sixteen gold pieces worth of sparkling, amber, Liquid Sunset.” He grinned again as the patrons further back craned their necks to glimpse the four characteristic snake-handled glasses. Murmurs of disbelief ran through the tavern; the barman was looking smug, confident his record wouldn’t be toppled by the prince.
Nol dropped back down to the bench and cracked his fingers.
Melraan leaned over and whispered in his ear. “You’re a compete idiot, Nol. You’ll be completely gone by the end.”
The prince shrugged and glanced at the swordsman out the corner of his eye. “Care to place a silver or two on that?”
Melraan grinned. “Four silvers say you can’t string together a coherent sentence when the last drop has gone down your throat.”
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All charries are mine~ so there
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 43. Fear not, I'll continue this one for word 44, since the word fits. Sorta. Kinda. Not really.
“You can’t be serious.” The swordsman looked unconvinced by his statement as the two serving girls lined the glasses up on the table.
The prince laughed and slapped his comrade on the back. “Haven’t been more serious in my life, Melraan.” He stepped up onto the wooden bench, clapping his hands a few times to gain the attention of the bar’s patrons.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he cried over the rabble, then waited patiently for the rabble to quieten. “The present record of three glasses, laid down by the wonderful gentleman behind the bar, has stood for almost a decade. I mean no disrespect to the fine barman, but I’m certain I’m not the only one who considers nine years to be far too long standing for such a record.”
He grinned wryly, noticing the people closest to his table as their eyes fixed on the glasses before him. Obligingly, he gestured to them with one hand. “I have before me no less than sixteen gold pieces worth of sparkling, amber, Liquid Sunset.” He grinned again as the patrons further back craned their necks to glimpse the four characteristic snake-handled glasses. Murmurs of disbelief ran through the tavern; the barman was looking smug, confident his record wouldn’t be toppled by the prince.
Nol dropped back down to the bench and cracked his fingers.
Melraan leaned over and whispered in his ear. “You’re a compete idiot, Nol. You’ll be completely gone by the end.”
The prince shrugged and glanced at the swordsman out the corner of his eye. “Care to place a silver or two on that?”
Melraan grinned. “Four silvers say you can’t string together a coherent sentence when the last drop has gone down your throat.”