fic: The Song Of My People
Dec. 30th, 2012 06:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: The Song Of My People
Series: FE10
Character/pairing: Kieran/Oscar, background Ike/Soren.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 656
Author's note: cottoncandy_bingo: cheesy/absurd. Modern AU, modern silliness. Pinksnowboots was subtly trying to get me to write more Kieran/Oscar, and then I did this silly little thing.
It came at three AM at his window, so loud that every dog and a few wolf laguz were barking throughout the neighborhood.
"RIVAL OF MINE!"
Oscar groaned and pulled himself out of bed. He came to the balcony and stepped into the cold night without even putting on a robe—which in hindsight, was a mistake.
"I SEE YOU ARE WEARING THE HEART BOXERS I GAVE YOU LAST BIRTHDAY. I APPROVE OF THIS. IS THAT WHERE YOU KEEP YOUR HEART, RIVAL?!"
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Oscar said.
"IT IS TIME TO SORT SOMETHING WHICH HAS GONE ON ENTIRELY TOO LONG. I HAVE BEEN WATCHING A LOT OF DAYTIME TELEVISION. ELLEN HAS SHOWN ME THROUGH HER FABULOUS DANCING THE ERROR OF MY WAYS!"
Lights turned on in the complex, there were a few choice words yelled in Kieran's direction, and Oscar heard the door open. He turned a moment, to see Ike and Soren there, looking none too happy at being awakened. Not that they ever looked too happy–grumpy was their collective default expression–but it looked even worse now. Soren pulled his black and gold fluffy robe a bit closer around himself. He squinted out in the most hateful manner out at the disturbance.
"For Pete's sake," Ike said. He was suspiciously shirtless, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms which were quite wrinkled, as if they had spent the night wadded up on the floor.
He turned on a small boombox. "I HAVE BEEN TOLD THIS IS THE 'SONG OF MY PEOPLE.' LET ME PLAY IT!"
The sound of Queen's You're My Best Friend played over the speakers. Kieran held it high.
"I HAVE PREPARED MYSELF IN COURTING ATTIRE!"
He wore a frilly purple shirt open at the chest to reveal a large amount of manly Crimean knight chest hair and a gold chain about his neck. Oscar had to wonder if Ranulf had put him up to this. He was probably laughing to himself somewhere, as teasing Kieran and then watching the results seemed to be one of his favorite hobbies.
"Fix this," Soren said. "Now."
He left, leading Ike out behind him.
Kieran stood in the light of the street lamp, looking ridiculous and well—not so bad, truth be told. Oscar had never had anyone go out of their way to woo him, even if Kieran had seemingly put every romantic comedy cliche into a blender with some really poor fashion choices.
"Kieran, I'll go out with you, just please–it's 3 AM. Please use the indoor voice," Oscar said.
"Any time is a good time to sort out an injustice!" Kieran yelled. This was as close to an indoor voice as he got.
Oscar heard a shotgun click. "I'll shut him up," Said Shinon. He was on a balcony on the same level as Oscar, and was surprisingly sober for once.
"Please come inside–"Oscar began.
"Nay, I am courting you—A CRIMEAN KNIGHT DOES NOT RETREAT. IT IS NOT EVEN IN OUR VOCABULARY."
"I generally prefer you alive, so come in for some coffee. You can tell me all you need to in your indoor voice."
The coffee would be de-caf, of course. He'd accidentally given Kieran regular coffee once...the results weren't pretty.
"I don't miss," Shinon drawled. His hair was a mess and he was the one person in the building you really did not mess with his sleeping schedule. It would be wiser and less disastrous to wake Soren up than Shinon, and that was saying something.
Even from this far away, Kieran looked pleased. "I SHALL CONTINUE INSIDE, WITH MY INDOOR VOICE."
He flipped off the boombox and charged inside, yelling a battle cry FOR LOOOVE!
Oscar sighed. He was really going to have to sound proof his room.
Series: FE10
Character/pairing: Kieran/Oscar, background Ike/Soren.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 656
Author's note: cottoncandy_bingo: cheesy/absurd. Modern AU, modern silliness. Pinksnowboots was subtly trying to get me to write more Kieran/Oscar, and then I did this silly little thing.
It came at three AM at his window, so loud that every dog and a few wolf laguz were barking throughout the neighborhood.
"RIVAL OF MINE!"
Oscar groaned and pulled himself out of bed. He came to the balcony and stepped into the cold night without even putting on a robe—which in hindsight, was a mistake.
"I SEE YOU ARE WEARING THE HEART BOXERS I GAVE YOU LAST BIRTHDAY. I APPROVE OF THIS. IS THAT WHERE YOU KEEP YOUR HEART, RIVAL?!"
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Oscar said.
"IT IS TIME TO SORT SOMETHING WHICH HAS GONE ON ENTIRELY TOO LONG. I HAVE BEEN WATCHING A LOT OF DAYTIME TELEVISION. ELLEN HAS SHOWN ME THROUGH HER FABULOUS DANCING THE ERROR OF MY WAYS!"
Lights turned on in the complex, there were a few choice words yelled in Kieran's direction, and Oscar heard the door open. He turned a moment, to see Ike and Soren there, looking none too happy at being awakened. Not that they ever looked too happy–grumpy was their collective default expression–but it looked even worse now. Soren pulled his black and gold fluffy robe a bit closer around himself. He squinted out in the most hateful manner out at the disturbance.
"For Pete's sake," Ike said. He was suspiciously shirtless, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms which were quite wrinkled, as if they had spent the night wadded up on the floor.
He turned on a small boombox. "I HAVE BEEN TOLD THIS IS THE 'SONG OF MY PEOPLE.' LET ME PLAY IT!"
The sound of Queen's You're My Best Friend played over the speakers. Kieran held it high.
"I HAVE PREPARED MYSELF IN COURTING ATTIRE!"
He wore a frilly purple shirt open at the chest to reveal a large amount of manly Crimean knight chest hair and a gold chain about his neck. Oscar had to wonder if Ranulf had put him up to this. He was probably laughing to himself somewhere, as teasing Kieran and then watching the results seemed to be one of his favorite hobbies.
"Fix this," Soren said. "Now."
He left, leading Ike out behind him.
Kieran stood in the light of the street lamp, looking ridiculous and well—not so bad, truth be told. Oscar had never had anyone go out of their way to woo him, even if Kieran had seemingly put every romantic comedy cliche into a blender with some really poor fashion choices.
"Kieran, I'll go out with you, just please–it's 3 AM. Please use the indoor voice," Oscar said.
"Any time is a good time to sort out an injustice!" Kieran yelled. This was as close to an indoor voice as he got.
Oscar heard a shotgun click. "I'll shut him up," Said Shinon. He was on a balcony on the same level as Oscar, and was surprisingly sober for once.
"Please come inside–"Oscar began.
"Nay, I am courting you—A CRIMEAN KNIGHT DOES NOT RETREAT. IT IS NOT EVEN IN OUR VOCABULARY."
"I generally prefer you alive, so come in for some coffee. You can tell me all you need to in your indoor voice."
The coffee would be de-caf, of course. He'd accidentally given Kieran regular coffee once...the results weren't pretty.
"I don't miss," Shinon drawled. His hair was a mess and he was the one person in the building you really did not mess with his sleeping schedule. It would be wiser and less disastrous to wake Soren up than Shinon, and that was saying something.
Even from this far away, Kieran looked pleased. "I SHALL CONTINUE INSIDE, WITH MY INDOOR VOICE."
He flipped off the boombox and charged inside, yelling a battle cry FOR LOOOVE!
Oscar sighed. He was really going to have to sound proof his room.
