kawa~ inspiration #35
Feb. 18th, 2005 03:34 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~ Elephants
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ kawa~ inspriation 35. Also~ it's this one but told from a different perspective, cos I'm odd like that.
~ ~ ~
“You’re being unreasonable,” Melraan stated, shaking his head with mirth. “It’s just an elephant. They’re not supposed to be the most pleasant creatures to ride, anyway.”
Nolryn stared blankly back at his companion. “You’re missing the whole point. It’s not about the Aeia-damned elephant.”
Melraan raised incredulous eyebrows at him.
“That,” Nolryn emphasised, pointing in the general direction of the jousting arena, “was a Kazinian.”
The swordsman blinked, expecting something else to follow the statement. “Anything else?” he prompted.
“General of the army in Silrona,” Nol continued, “Comparable to the Second General of our archers, I guess. If I’d fallen to any other rider, even a Llayan, I wouldn’t be so annoyed. But that guy? Every time I go to Silrona—whether I get in the Own or not—he’s going to rub my face in it. If I don’t have an elephant by the time I eventually get to—what?”
Melraan looked up to where the sound of a woman daintily clearing her throat had come from. The young woman, her pale pink silk dress very out of place in the muddy surrounds of the jousting arena, curtsied floridly and said something in Llayan, most likely introducing herself. Melraan had never been particularly fluent with his Llayan—even a simple ‘my name is’ used ridiculously flowery language. He never had the time for it. Whoever she was, she certainly knew how to turn on the charm. Melraan was impressed despite himself.
“Good for you,” Nolryn replied blandly, then turned back to Melraan, his lips mouthing the girl’s identity: Princess Lynnlita.
Melraan nodded slowly as the girl tried again, still speaking in flowery Llayan.
Nolryn cringed and looked back at her. “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.”
Melraan had to forcibly stop himself from drawing in a sharp intake of breath. The worst thing the girl could have done was to dwell on the prince’s loss. Not unless she offered a consolatory elephant.
Sure enough, Nol was scowling at the princess. He muttered something that Melraan didn’t understand, then waved her away as he might a servant at the palace.
Lynnlita gave another florid curtsey, then left.
“Keeping the ties strong between our fair nations, I see,” Melraan observed, watching as the princess delicately picked her way around potholes and piles of horse manure.
“I didn’t like her when I was seven, I didn’t like her when I was nine, I still don’t like her.”
“Spoken like a true champion.” Melraan sculled the rest of his beer and got to his feet. “Come on, I’m on in a minute. The camel’s still up for offer, if you want it. Otherwise I’m losing so I can get some money out of this tournament.”
The prince grinned abruptly. “You’re against ‘may, you realise.”
The swordsman’s shoulders slouched. “Well this is going to be a thrilling engagement. Neither of us want the Aeia-damned camel!”
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ kawa~ inspriation 35. Also~ it's this one but told from a different perspective, cos I'm odd like that.
“You’re being unreasonable,” Melraan stated, shaking his head with mirth. “It’s just an elephant. They’re not supposed to be the most pleasant creatures to ride, anyway.”
Nolryn stared blankly back at his companion. “You’re missing the whole point. It’s not about the Aeia-damned elephant.”
Melraan raised incredulous eyebrows at him.
“That,” Nolryn emphasised, pointing in the general direction of the jousting arena, “was a Kazinian.”
The swordsman blinked, expecting something else to follow the statement. “Anything else?” he prompted.
“General of the army in Silrona,” Nol continued, “Comparable to the Second General of our archers, I guess. If I’d fallen to any other rider, even a Llayan, I wouldn’t be so annoyed. But that guy? Every time I go to Silrona—whether I get in the Own or not—he’s going to rub my face in it. If I don’t have an elephant by the time I eventually get to—what?”
Melraan looked up to where the sound of a woman daintily clearing her throat had come from. The young woman, her pale pink silk dress very out of place in the muddy surrounds of the jousting arena, curtsied floridly and said something in Llayan, most likely introducing herself. Melraan had never been particularly fluent with his Llayan—even a simple ‘my name is’ used ridiculously flowery language. He never had the time for it. Whoever she was, she certainly knew how to turn on the charm. Melraan was impressed despite himself.
“Good for you,” Nolryn replied blandly, then turned back to Melraan, his lips mouthing the girl’s identity: Princess Lynnlita.
Melraan nodded slowly as the girl tried again, still speaking in flowery Llayan.
Nolryn cringed and looked back at her. “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.”
Melraan had to forcibly stop himself from drawing in a sharp intake of breath. The worst thing the girl could have done was to dwell on the prince’s loss. Not unless she offered a consolatory elephant.
Sure enough, Nol was scowling at the princess. He muttered something that Melraan didn’t understand, then waved her away as he might a servant at the palace.
Lynnlita gave another florid curtsey, then left.
“Keeping the ties strong between our fair nations, I see,” Melraan observed, watching as the princess delicately picked her way around potholes and piles of horse manure.
“I didn’t like her when I was seven, I didn’t like her when I was nine, I still don’t like her.”
“Spoken like a true champion.” Melraan sculled the rest of his beer and got to his feet. “Come on, I’m on in a minute. The camel’s still up for offer, if you want it. Otherwise I’m losing so I can get some money out of this tournament.”
The prince grinned abruptly. “You’re against ‘may, you realise.”
The swordsman’s shoulders slouched. “Well this is going to be a thrilling engagement. Neither of us want the Aeia-damned camel!”