fic: untitled
Feb. 14th, 2011 11:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: untitled.
Author:measuringlife
Recipient:noree
Present: fic
Characters: Franz, Forde (brotherly)
Genre: gen. Maybe a hint of Seth/Franz slash implications, but painfully gen.
A / N: I have been conked out with a cold forever. Sorry if this comes out wonky, I just got enough medicine to keep me out of bed for a bit.
He's running his hands over the coarse paper–the only kind he can get in a boondock like this. There's partly drawn flowers over it, lazily done. His fingers are smudged with charcoal, his gloves thrown carelessly on the table. Paper isn't very available with nothing but the revenant and wilds around them. Caer Pelyn is still days away, and they're camped out in one of the abandoned forts about the place. Thankfully, this one isn't filled with vigilante heroines and monsters.
"Sit a while," Forde says.
"But General Seth will be expecting me soon," Franz protests. "I want to make sure my armor hasn't tarnished–"
Forde sighs dramatically. "'General Seth' this and 'General Seth' that. Don't you have a moment for your dear old brother?"
Franz flushes a little, and he's reminded of the boy Franz was–still is, in his own gangly, half-formed way.
"I guess I could stay a little longer..."
"That's better," Forde says with a smile. "We haven't talked in ages."
"Well we have been pretty busy," Franz admits. "I took down three whole revenant by myself the last battle."
"Wow, three whole ones? As opposed to three half ones..."
"You know what I mean!" Franz protests. Forde can't resist reaching out to ruffle his curls. He's still his little brother, still easily goaded with quick blushes. Franz doesn't draw back, or admonish him for treating him like the little brother whose diapers he had to help change. He's a good kid like that. Forde is grateful.
"I'm proud of you. I bet he is too."
Franz rubs at his cheek, as if to wipe away the tomato-redness growing there. Yet Forde sees pride there, too. "He personally thanked me for watching his flank."
"I bet he did," Forde says, drawling a bit. He drew his pencil around, making a scrawl of a cloud on his paper.
Franz didn't reply, so Franz went on, letting the pencil grow slack in his hands.
"It seems like only yesterday you were just going into training, and now you're e a real knight with the revenant scars to prove it. In fact, I'm feeling kind of old..." Forde pushes back a stray lock of hair.
"Well, not too old," Franz says. Forde chuckles.
"Well, I'm glad to see you've improved so much. I'd hate to have to come save you all the time. I get enough flack from Kyle from falling asleep all the time as it is. It seems like I'm undependable or something," Forde says.
"I owe it all to General Seth. Without his encouragement, I wouldn't be where I am today," Franz says.
"Really, hearts in the diary and carved out names on trees and everything, huh?"
"What?" Franz says, looking confused.
"Oh, it's nothing," Forde says with a faint smile. He always figured he'd get a first crush to tease Franz about, though this is a bit different than he thought. Still, he plans to wring every bit of brotherly teasing he can.
"Really though, I should go–" Franz looked up, forgetting that the last timepiece had been broken by one of Lute's errant 'projects.'
"Happy training," Forde says. He absently returns to his drawing, thinking in the back of his mind about maybe a nap is in order. Just a little one, to keep him from falling asleep on watch duty tonight. Kyle will nag at him forever if he does.
He can't help but think up to that golden glow in the skies where his mother must be. She's looking down proud on him, right? He closes his eyes and he can almost see her admonishing him and telling him not to be so hard on his brother, that he's not allowed to find his love poetry and do dramatic readings of it or make kissy faces at him. Well, he's a bit old for the latter, but the first amuses him. But then again, he's supposed to be the mature, older one, so he thinks he'll settle for just being amused from afar. Isn't that what older brothers are for, after all?
Author:
measuringlifeRecipient:
noreePresent: fic
Characters: Franz, Forde (brotherly)
Genre: gen. Maybe a hint of Seth/Franz slash implications, but painfully gen.
A / N: I have been conked out with a cold forever. Sorry if this comes out wonky, I just got enough medicine to keep me out of bed for a bit.
He's running his hands over the coarse paper–the only kind he can get in a boondock like this. There's partly drawn flowers over it, lazily done. His fingers are smudged with charcoal, his gloves thrown carelessly on the table. Paper isn't very available with nothing but the revenant and wilds around them. Caer Pelyn is still days away, and they're camped out in one of the abandoned forts about the place. Thankfully, this one isn't filled with vigilante heroines and monsters.
"Sit a while," Forde says.
"But General Seth will be expecting me soon," Franz protests. "I want to make sure my armor hasn't tarnished–"
Forde sighs dramatically. "'General Seth' this and 'General Seth' that. Don't you have a moment for your dear old brother?"
Franz flushes a little, and he's reminded of the boy Franz was–still is, in his own gangly, half-formed way.
"I guess I could stay a little longer..."
"That's better," Forde says with a smile. "We haven't talked in ages."
"Well we have been pretty busy," Franz admits. "I took down three whole revenant by myself the last battle."
"Wow, three whole ones? As opposed to three half ones..."
"You know what I mean!" Franz protests. Forde can't resist reaching out to ruffle his curls. He's still his little brother, still easily goaded with quick blushes. Franz doesn't draw back, or admonish him for treating him like the little brother whose diapers he had to help change. He's a good kid like that. Forde is grateful.
"I'm proud of you. I bet he is too."
Franz rubs at his cheek, as if to wipe away the tomato-redness growing there. Yet Forde sees pride there, too. "He personally thanked me for watching his flank."
"I bet he did," Forde says, drawling a bit. He drew his pencil around, making a scrawl of a cloud on his paper.
Franz didn't reply, so Franz went on, letting the pencil grow slack in his hands.
"It seems like only yesterday you were just going into training, and now you're e a real knight with the revenant scars to prove it. In fact, I'm feeling kind of old..." Forde pushes back a stray lock of hair.
"Well, not too old," Franz says. Forde chuckles.
"Well, I'm glad to see you've improved so much. I'd hate to have to come save you all the time. I get enough flack from Kyle from falling asleep all the time as it is. It seems like I'm undependable or something," Forde says.
"I owe it all to General Seth. Without his encouragement, I wouldn't be where I am today," Franz says.
"Really, hearts in the diary and carved out names on trees and everything, huh?"
"What?" Franz says, looking confused.
"Oh, it's nothing," Forde says with a faint smile. He always figured he'd get a first crush to tease Franz about, though this is a bit different than he thought. Still, he plans to wring every bit of brotherly teasing he can.
"Really though, I should go–" Franz looked up, forgetting that the last timepiece had been broken by one of Lute's errant 'projects.'
"Happy training," Forde says. He absently returns to his drawing, thinking in the back of his mind about maybe a nap is in order. Just a little one, to keep him from falling asleep on watch duty tonight. Kyle will nag at him forever if he does.
He can't help but think up to that golden glow in the skies where his mother must be. She's looking down proud on him, right? He closes his eyes and he can almost see her admonishing him and telling him not to be so hard on his brother, that he's not allowed to find his love poetry and do dramatic readings of it or make kissy faces at him. Well, he's a bit old for the latter, but the first amuses him. But then again, he's supposed to be the mature, older one, so he thinks he'll settle for just being amused from afar. Isn't that what older brothers are for, after all?
