Genesis 054
Jan. 30th, 2006 03:33 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Crown
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ He's mine
Notes~ Genesis 054. 'nother fic from Nol's hrai-dani.
~ ~ ~
Nol sat on the end of his bed, sighing heavily as he stared at the flickering fire place in the opposite wall. The flames cast their orange shadows over the rich red walls of his bedroom, and reflected red shimmers from the crown that he spun idly on his index finger.
He hated the Aeia-damned thing, but if ever there was an occasion to wear it, tonight was it. Nobody had actually mentioned to him that he should wear it, not even Majesty, but for some reason Nol had taken it upon himself to fish it our from the depths of his cupboard, polish it up a bit and slap it on his head, just for tonight.
Except that he hadn’t actually put it on just yet.
All day he’d been in ceremonial robes, making idle conversation with numerous foreign dignitaries and royals, while his crown had been sitting, polished and gleaming, on his bedside table. He’d been meaning to come up and get it all day, but something had always come up to stop him, not to mention that four flights of stairs separated his room from the courtyard. At sunset he’d finally managed to tear himself away and come up here to get the thing.
It was now completely dark outside, and he was still up here, still stalling. He’d stood out on his balcony to look down at the swarms of people in the courtyard, their numbers increasing every minute. He’d wandered into the upstairs self-serve bar for a bottle of palace brew, which he’d drunk alone in the recreation room.
He sighed again, holding the crown in both hands and looking down at the flames reflected in the two garnets in its ring, looking like two small drops of molten gold in the firelight.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, finally just slapping the crown on his head, hooking hair out of his eyes as he did. He tried fixing it properly on his head in a somewhat comfortable position and failed miserably.
He glanced sideways at the mirror, then got to his feet and stared at his reflection in it. Bits of hair were sticking out of the symbol at the front, while other locks flopped over the band or stuck straight up. He spent long minutes fixing it to at least look decent, even if it was still just as uncomfortable.
Finally he folded his arms and stood back, frowning at the crown in the mirror. Slowly he began to take in the rest of his attire. The royal blue of his robes was heavily embroidered with hundreds of blue swirls and red dots, some of them glittering garnets that had been stitched into the glistening satin. Some poor seamstress had spent weeks on all this embroidery, and had been paid very handsomely for it, too.
He blinked, realising that he’d subconsciously straightened and put his shoulders back. After one final tug at the crown, he turned from the mirror and made for the door.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ He's mine
Notes~ Genesis 054. 'nother fic from Nol's hrai-dani.
Nol sat on the end of his bed, sighing heavily as he stared at the flickering fire place in the opposite wall. The flames cast their orange shadows over the rich red walls of his bedroom, and reflected red shimmers from the crown that he spun idly on his index finger.
He hated the Aeia-damned thing, but if ever there was an occasion to wear it, tonight was it. Nobody had actually mentioned to him that he should wear it, not even Majesty, but for some reason Nol had taken it upon himself to fish it our from the depths of his cupboard, polish it up a bit and slap it on his head, just for tonight.
Except that he hadn’t actually put it on just yet.
All day he’d been in ceremonial robes, making idle conversation with numerous foreign dignitaries and royals, while his crown had been sitting, polished and gleaming, on his bedside table. He’d been meaning to come up and get it all day, but something had always come up to stop him, not to mention that four flights of stairs separated his room from the courtyard. At sunset he’d finally managed to tear himself away and come up here to get the thing.
It was now completely dark outside, and he was still up here, still stalling. He’d stood out on his balcony to look down at the swarms of people in the courtyard, their numbers increasing every minute. He’d wandered into the upstairs self-serve bar for a bottle of palace brew, which he’d drunk alone in the recreation room.
He sighed again, holding the crown in both hands and looking down at the flames reflected in the two garnets in its ring, looking like two small drops of molten gold in the firelight.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, finally just slapping the crown on his head, hooking hair out of his eyes as he did. He tried fixing it properly on his head in a somewhat comfortable position and failed miserably.
He glanced sideways at the mirror, then got to his feet and stared at his reflection in it. Bits of hair were sticking out of the symbol at the front, while other locks flopped over the band or stuck straight up. He spent long minutes fixing it to at least look decent, even if it was still just as uncomfortable.
Finally he folded his arms and stood back, frowning at the crown in the mirror. Slowly he began to take in the rest of his attire. The royal blue of his robes was heavily embroidered with hundreds of blue swirls and red dots, some of them glittering garnets that had been stitched into the glistening satin. Some poor seamstress had spent weeks on all this embroidery, and had been paid very handsomely for it, too.
He blinked, realising that he’d subconsciously straightened and put his shoulders back. After one final tug at the crown, he turned from the mirror and made for the door.
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Date: 2006-01-29 09:18 am (UTC)