Five things that never happened to Roger of Conte
555 Words of ficlet (!!!)
I.
Thud. Thud.
It was the sound of his leather soles gently slapping the floor with impatience. Jaw clenched, Page Roger of Conte kept his eyes on the wall in front of him. His fellows were in their afternoon classes, undisturbed by the whims of women. He sighed, clearly bored. Normally, a disturbance to routine would have been welcomed. If Roger had wanted to sit in a bare room and wait for other people to do things, though, he would have become a clerk. As it were, the Queen had been in labor for almost two days now. Surely she was almost done?
Thud. Thud.
A sharp glare thrown by Gareth of Naxen settled him again. Roger resisted the urge to sneer at the highly strung Duke. It was not worth the punishment work the Queens brother could assign him, as newly appointed Training Master. In return, the boy relished every time the increasingly powerful Duke was forced to bow to him. After all, he was the Heir. For the moment.
His uncle, King Roald, paced the floor in front of the door that connected to the Queens chambers. Suddenly, the door flew open.
A woman entered, hastily bowing. Sire.
Roger watched distastefully as King Roald stood quickly and asked, Well?
Her Majesty has borne a royal daughter. Praised be the Gods.
II.
The young mans eyes widened with shock. Quietly, Squire Alexander of Tirragen asked, You want me to do what? The last word dripped with repulsion.
Duke Roger studied him for a moment. He had not thought the boy to be such a fool. Alex, it is a simple process. Think of it as restoring the Kingdoms order. He paused, drawing out the implications of his assessment. Remember. You will have no more competition. You are the best swordsman, without a doubt. But how much longer will you continue to best Squire Alan? He licked his lips, baring them against carnivorous white teeth.
Alex stood, bowing jerkily. I will not. He turned, striding from the room with his head held high.
III.
Purple eyes gazed into deep blue ones. You want to be my friend? Alan of Trebond repeated hopefully.
Roger moved even closer to the Squire. I can give you things you never dreamed of. His face was scant inches from Alans. Accommodate your utmost desires. He continued. The Duke swelled with pleasure as Alan drew a surprised breath. Roger eased his lips over those of the younger man.
IV.
He folded his arms resentfully. The emerald coloured silk itched uncontrollably. Heavily jeweled embroidery pulled at his sleeves. Stiffened material restricted his movement. The Conte Duke was most certainly not comfortable. Nor was he impressed.
You fool! Roger hissed angrily. Look at me! This is appalling. How could you let something like this happen? Venom dripped from his every word, as he shook with fury. The Duke of Conte-
Thom of Trebond smiled lazily at him. Careful Delia. You had better watch those mannerisms. One might think you shared more than just your body with him. Of course, things can happen when you dabble in another sorcerers magic. The Master paused. Things can go awry.
V.
Roger blazed with a myriad of colours as the court watched, transfixed by amazement. The magic of the land mingled with the orange of his gift as the priest and priestess lowered the crown onto his head.
Kat.
555 Words of ficlet (!!!)
I.
Thud. Thud.
It was the sound of his leather soles gently slapping the floor with impatience. Jaw clenched, Page Roger of Conte kept his eyes on the wall in front of him. His fellows were in their afternoon classes, undisturbed by the whims of women. He sighed, clearly bored. Normally, a disturbance to routine would have been welcomed. If Roger had wanted to sit in a bare room and wait for other people to do things, though, he would have become a clerk. As it were, the Queen had been in labor for almost two days now. Surely she was almost done?
Thud. Thud.
A sharp glare thrown by Gareth of Naxen settled him again. Roger resisted the urge to sneer at the highly strung Duke. It was not worth the punishment work the Queens brother could assign him, as newly appointed Training Master. In return, the boy relished every time the increasingly powerful Duke was forced to bow to him. After all, he was the Heir. For the moment.
His uncle, King Roald, paced the floor in front of the door that connected to the Queens chambers. Suddenly, the door flew open.
A woman entered, hastily bowing. Sire.
Roger watched distastefully as King Roald stood quickly and asked, Well?
Her Majesty has borne a royal daughter. Praised be the Gods.
II.
The young mans eyes widened with shock. Quietly, Squire Alexander of Tirragen asked, You want me to do what? The last word dripped with repulsion.
Duke Roger studied him for a moment. He had not thought the boy to be such a fool. Alex, it is a simple process. Think of it as restoring the Kingdoms order. He paused, drawing out the implications of his assessment. Remember. You will have no more competition. You are the best swordsman, without a doubt. But how much longer will you continue to best Squire Alan? He licked his lips, baring them against carnivorous white teeth.
Alex stood, bowing jerkily. I will not. He turned, striding from the room with his head held high.
III.
Purple eyes gazed into deep blue ones. You want to be my friend? Alan of Trebond repeated hopefully.
Roger moved even closer to the Squire. I can give you things you never dreamed of. His face was scant inches from Alans. Accommodate your utmost desires. He continued. The Duke swelled with pleasure as Alan drew a surprised breath. Roger eased his lips over those of the younger man.
IV.
He folded his arms resentfully. The emerald coloured silk itched uncontrollably. Heavily jeweled embroidery pulled at his sleeves. Stiffened material restricted his movement. The Conte Duke was most certainly not comfortable. Nor was he impressed.
You fool! Roger hissed angrily. Look at me! This is appalling. How could you let something like this happen? Venom dripped from his every word, as he shook with fury. The Duke of Conte-
Thom of Trebond smiled lazily at him. Careful Delia. You had better watch those mannerisms. One might think you shared more than just your body with him. Of course, things can happen when you dabble in another sorcerers magic. The Master paused. Things can go awry.
V.
Roger blazed with a myriad of colours as the court watched, transfixed by amazement. The magic of the land mingled with the orange of his gift as the priest and priestess lowered the crown onto his head.
Kat.
You now> you want e>." pan>/div>
