15min fic #5
Aug. 8th, 2004 02:37 am![[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~ Not Happening
Author~ Annarti
Warnings~ Bugger-all
Disclaimer~ See this ficlet? And the charries? Mine~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 5. Obviously strayed from the topic a bit, but whatever. Not generally the type of thing I'd go for >> Nol's featuring a lot in these things. Hrm...
~ ~ ~
Nolryn folded his arms, eyes half-lidded. “This is ridiculous,” he said flatly, “I am quite possibly the last man in Raykin who should be a father.”
Melraan shrugged and took another swig of his beer. “From what His Majesty’s been saying, it sounds as though you should probably get used to the idea, old man.”
The prince sighed and slumped back in his chair, face to the ceiling. “I know, I know,” he said wearily, “Majesty’s told me enough times already. It’s that or choose someone myself, and given that no king in history has ever opted for that, I’m going to assume it’s even more difficult than a child.” An involuntary shudder ran up his spine at the word. He sighed again and looked Melraan hard in the face. “I’m not parent material, Melraan.”
The swordsman merely shrugged. “You’re not exactly king material either, but you’re going to end up doing that in a decade or three.”
“Which brings me to another point: why in Lin’s name am I supposed to be thinking about who’s coming after me when I’m not even on the throne myself? And at the rate Majesty’s going, I won’t be for an age or two yet.”
“You could always just choose someone at random,” Melraan mused, “They can hardly do a worse job at it than you’re set out to do.”
Nol smiled wryly. “Your confidence in your future king astounds me,” he muttered, then his face brightened slightly. “How would you like to be king?” he asked, his voice full of earnest.
Melraan blinked once before breaking up in a fit of laughter.
“That would be a no, then?”
The swordsman could barely manage a nod.
“Why can’t Majesty choose someone else? I’d make a way better first general than king, seriously.”
“I won’t argue with that one. Thing is, you’ve already been born.”
“We could always break tradition.”
“We could all go and live in the Tsaythi desert, too, but I can’t see that happening any time soon.”
The prince rested his arms on the table, then lay his forehead on them. “I am so very, very screwed.”
Melraan grinned widely. “Not yet you’re not.”
Nolryn frowned down at the table, then thrust the back of his hand at his colleague as the full meaning of his words sunk in. “Not funny, Melraan, not funny.”
Author~ Annarti
Warnings~ Bugger-all
Disclaimer~ See this ficlet? And the charries? Mine~
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 5. Obviously strayed from the topic a bit, but whatever. Not generally the type of thing I'd go for >> Nol's featuring a lot in these things. Hrm...
Nolryn folded his arms, eyes half-lidded. “This is ridiculous,” he said flatly, “I am quite possibly the last man in Raykin who should be a father.”
Melraan shrugged and took another swig of his beer. “From what His Majesty’s been saying, it sounds as though you should probably get used to the idea, old man.”
The prince sighed and slumped back in his chair, face to the ceiling. “I know, I know,” he said wearily, “Majesty’s told me enough times already. It’s that or choose someone myself, and given that no king in history has ever opted for that, I’m going to assume it’s even more difficult than a child.” An involuntary shudder ran up his spine at the word. He sighed again and looked Melraan hard in the face. “I’m not parent material, Melraan.”
The swordsman merely shrugged. “You’re not exactly king material either, but you’re going to end up doing that in a decade or three.”
“Which brings me to another point: why in Lin’s name am I supposed to be thinking about who’s coming after me when I’m not even on the throne myself? And at the rate Majesty’s going, I won’t be for an age or two yet.”
“You could always just choose someone at random,” Melraan mused, “They can hardly do a worse job at it than you’re set out to do.”
Nol smiled wryly. “Your confidence in your future king astounds me,” he muttered, then his face brightened slightly. “How would you like to be king?” he asked, his voice full of earnest.
Melraan blinked once before breaking up in a fit of laughter.
“That would be a no, then?”
The swordsman could barely manage a nod.
“Why can’t Majesty choose someone else? I’d make a way better first general than king, seriously.”
“I won’t argue with that one. Thing is, you’ve already been born.”
“We could always break tradition.”
“We could all go and live in the Tsaythi desert, too, but I can’t see that happening any time soon.”
The prince rested his arms on the table, then lay his forehead on them. “I am so very, very screwed.”
Melraan grinned widely. “Not yet you’re not.”
Nolryn frowned down at the table, then thrust the back of his hand at his colleague as the full meaning of his words sunk in. “Not funny, Melraan, not funny.”