15min fic #76
Oct. 11th, 2004 08:56 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Royal Meeting
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Mine~ mine mine~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 76. Continuation of that one. Lynnlita's a nut. Soneone should've told her you dun talk to the prince when he's pissy >>;
~ ~ ~
“Is Lynnlita absolutely certain she wishes to make the prince’s acquaintance?”
Lynnlita giggled at her elder sister’s worried look and hooked a lock of curly, dark hair behind her ear. “Lynnlita has told her sister many times that yes; she wishes to meet the man who could one day be her husband.”
Her sister wasn’t convinced. “Might Amyrallyn suggest a later date, when Prince Nolryn is not quite so… out of sorts?”
The younger girl gave her most charming smile, fluttering her eyelashes delicately over honey-brown eyes. “Lynnlita will make it her business to put the prince back in sorts,” she declared, then stood and made her way from the observation area down to where the competitors mounted their horses, not caring that her sister didn’t follow to witness her triumph.
She was able to spot the Raykinian prince for the blue swirls and red dots on his shoulder, an emblem she had been taught to recognise as she had been with all the royal symbols of the other nations. He had taken off the steel armour that had encased him for the duration of the competition, and was now dressed in Raykinian-style shirt and pants and talking rather animatedly with another man similarly dressed.
Lynnlita pursed her lips and shook her head slightly, making a mental note to change the distinctly peasant-like attire the prince chose to adorn himself with as soon as she was to be his bride. She took a deep breath, smoothed out another invisible wrinkle in her silk dress and strode confidently to the two Raykinians.
The prince seemed to reaching a crescendo when Lynnlita cleared her throat daintily to attract his attention.
“Ga?” he demanded brusquely in Raykinian. Evidently he hadn’t recognised her.
Lynnlita wasn’t put off. She curtseyed gracefully and turned her honey-eyed charm on the young prince. “It is the honour of Princess Lynnlita of Llayad to make the acquaintance of Crown Prince Nolryn of Raykin,” she said sweetly, batting her eyelids again.
The prince was unmoved. “Good for you,” he told her, still speaking his own tongue, then turned back to his friend. She wondered vaguely if the prince spoke any Llayan at all.
“Lynnlita had the pleasure of witnessing his Highness’ joust earlier this day,” she tried again. She was determined to make an impression on the Raykinian heir.
Nolryn turned back to her, a pained look on his face. Perhaps he did understand her language. “Is there anyone in this Aeia-damned kingdom who didn’t see me?”
“His Highness fought a brave battle,” the princess continued, this time in Raykinian, “To be thrown from his horse as though killed, only to stand and mount again, perfectly unharmed.” She knew well how to flatter a man, even one who had just lost a fight.
Apparently though, the same technique didn’t have the same effect on Raykinians. The prince scowled at her, then replied in a lisped, mumbling Llayan. “Princess Lynnlita has no idea,” he told her, then waved her away with one hand.
Lynnlita curtseyed again and left, elegantly picking her way around potholes and piles of horse manure. Perhaps her sister had been right.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Mine~ mine mine~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 76. Continuation of that one. Lynnlita's a nut. Soneone should've told her you dun talk to the prince when he's pissy >>;
“Is Lynnlita absolutely certain she wishes to make the prince’s acquaintance?”
Lynnlita giggled at her elder sister’s worried look and hooked a lock of curly, dark hair behind her ear. “Lynnlita has told her sister many times that yes; she wishes to meet the man who could one day be her husband.”
Her sister wasn’t convinced. “Might Amyrallyn suggest a later date, when Prince Nolryn is not quite so… out of sorts?”
The younger girl gave her most charming smile, fluttering her eyelashes delicately over honey-brown eyes. “Lynnlita will make it her business to put the prince back in sorts,” she declared, then stood and made her way from the observation area down to where the competitors mounted their horses, not caring that her sister didn’t follow to witness her triumph.
She was able to spot the Raykinian prince for the blue swirls and red dots on his shoulder, an emblem she had been taught to recognise as she had been with all the royal symbols of the other nations. He had taken off the steel armour that had encased him for the duration of the competition, and was now dressed in Raykinian-style shirt and pants and talking rather animatedly with another man similarly dressed.
Lynnlita pursed her lips and shook her head slightly, making a mental note to change the distinctly peasant-like attire the prince chose to adorn himself with as soon as she was to be his bride. She took a deep breath, smoothed out another invisible wrinkle in her silk dress and strode confidently to the two Raykinians.
The prince seemed to reaching a crescendo when Lynnlita cleared her throat daintily to attract his attention.
“Ga?” he demanded brusquely in Raykinian. Evidently he hadn’t recognised her.
Lynnlita wasn’t put off. She curtseyed gracefully and turned her honey-eyed charm on the young prince. “It is the honour of Princess Lynnlita of Llayad to make the acquaintance of Crown Prince Nolryn of Raykin,” she said sweetly, batting her eyelids again.
The prince was unmoved. “Good for you,” he told her, still speaking his own tongue, then turned back to his friend. She wondered vaguely if the prince spoke any Llayan at all.
“Lynnlita had the pleasure of witnessing his Highness’ joust earlier this day,” she tried again. She was determined to make an impression on the Raykinian heir.
Nolryn turned back to her, a pained look on his face. Perhaps he did understand her language. “Is there anyone in this Aeia-damned kingdom who didn’t see me?”
“His Highness fought a brave battle,” the princess continued, this time in Raykinian, “To be thrown from his horse as though killed, only to stand and mount again, perfectly unharmed.” She knew well how to flatter a man, even one who had just lost a fight.
Apparently though, the same technique didn’t have the same effect on Raykinians. The prince scowled at her, then replied in a lisped, mumbling Llayan. “Princess Lynnlita has no idea,” he told her, then waved her away with one hand.
Lynnlita curtseyed again and left, elegantly picking her way around potholes and piles of horse manure. Perhaps her sister had been right.