Swordspoint Drabbles
Sep. 17th, 2007 12:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
midnightdiddleErm. Finished Swordspoint today, and wrote two drabbles for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
x_saturnine. I can't promise anything, quality-wise, 'cause I'm still trying to get down Alec and Richard's characters. But. Yeah. Alec/Richard fic. Or Richard/Alec. Whatever.
DUDE. CANON COUPLE. <3
Hunger
Alec, Richard learned within the first week, was fond of drink. By fond, Richard meant something closer to Marie's love for company, or Hugo's love for respect, or Richard's own love for the sword. Except Alec's love with like everything else of Alec that Richard had noticed over the past several days. Fast, desperate, and with the kind of careless abandon that lead to bodies floating down the river.
"The stars," Alec drawled, sprawled over the chaise Richard wasn't sure he'd ever be able to reclaim, "are very bright tonight."
Richard paused just inside the doorway, then moved into the bedroom, unbuttoning his coat as he went. He heard feet hit the ground with a thud seemingly too loud for how thin the boy was, and listened as the footsteps glided into the bedroom behind him.
"Did you bring food?" Alec asked, "or do you make a habit of starving your guests?" His tone was the sharp, loose vowels of the Hill, and Richard loved the sound of it, the way it seemed to smooth out across the room.
"I gave you money this morning," Richard said mildly, folding his coat, then lying it over the heavy clothes chest.
"Lost it." Alec's voice was glib and self-pleasing. "Aren't you going to feed me?"
Richard stilled for a moment, feeling off-place. Everything about Alec screamed outsider, from his long tail of hair to his frayed robe, his voice and his stance and his eyes, half dead and more alive than any of the Riversiders. He threw Richard off pace, sending his life into some kind of organized chaos of fucking and fighting and fucking some more, and Richard didn't know what to make of it, except that Richard might be growing fond of it.
"We can go to Rosalie's," Richard said, picking up his coat again. When he turned, Alec was staring at him, eyes wide and lips thin, and Richard smiled a bit. "Shall we?"
He was half-way down the stairs when Alec caught up with him, a flutter of scholar's robes against Richard's skin when Alec brushed close.
"I don't," Alec said, without much bite at all, "like her stew."
Richard laughed, and wondered when he was going to become the desperate one.
What You Want
"It doesn't hurt," Alec said cheerfully, straddling Richard's lap. His eyes were a little hazy, and his breath a little bitter, and Richard wondered how much, exactly, Alec had been drinking before he'd stumbled home.
"Alec," he said patiently, curling his fingers around Alec's wrist loosely. "You're drunk, go to bed."
"I," Alec said back, parroting Richard's tone with far too much skill, "am practically sober. It's unrespectable, for a man of my caliber and standing. Now hold still--"
"Alec--"
In comparison, a pinprick didn't hurt nearly so much as, say, being beaten within an inch of his life, or being nearly run through with a sword of a particular width. Still, it was the idea of a thing, and there were some things that were well and good for the boys from the Hill, and weren't quite so well and good for the men from Riverside.
"There," Alec breathed, sounding particularly pleased. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his mouth pursed, but his eyes were a little brighter, and after a moment, a corner of his mouth twisted up in an entirely Alec manner.
"Alec," Richard tried again, trying to reach for his ear, and sighing when Alec batted his hand away absently.
"A sapphire, I think," Alec was saying, sounding more and more pleased with himself. "Less flashy than a diamond, but nice enough. You can buy it with the money from your next job."
"Alec--"
"Would you prefer a ruby? God, your tastes sometime--"
Richard clamped his hand over Alec's mouth, hoping Alec wouldn't feel the need to do something so extreme as bite him. When Alec stayed still, and no teeth found their way into Richard's hand, Richard tried again.
"Alec, I didn't want--"
Alec licked Richard's hand right about then, and Richard pulled his hand back before Alec decided teeth were a weapon far greater than his tongue. Alec was nearly glaring at Richard, eyes narrowed and fever-bright.
"Sometimes," Alec dragged the words out slowly, leaning forward until his mouth was against Richard's ear, "it's too late to go back, even if we don't want it." His tongue flicked out, barely touching Richard's ear, and Richard swallowed dryly at the groan Alec gave, shuddering in Richard's lap.
"Wouldn't you agree, Richard?"
Titles aren't set in stone. Should I come up with different (better?) titles, they're totally gonna be changed.
(someday, I'm totally going to sleep)
x_saturnine. I can't promise anything, quality-wise, 'cause I'm still trying to get down Alec and Richard's characters. But. Yeah. Alec/Richard fic. Or Richard/Alec. Whatever.DUDE. CANON COUPLE. <3
Hunger
Alec, Richard learned within the first week, was fond of drink. By fond, Richard meant something closer to Marie's love for company, or Hugo's love for respect, or Richard's own love for the sword. Except Alec's love with like everything else of Alec that Richard had noticed over the past several days. Fast, desperate, and with the kind of careless abandon that lead to bodies floating down the river.
"The stars," Alec drawled, sprawled over the chaise Richard wasn't sure he'd ever be able to reclaim, "are very bright tonight."
Richard paused just inside the doorway, then moved into the bedroom, unbuttoning his coat as he went. He heard feet hit the ground with a thud seemingly too loud for how thin the boy was, and listened as the footsteps glided into the bedroom behind him.
"Did you bring food?" Alec asked, "or do you make a habit of starving your guests?" His tone was the sharp, loose vowels of the Hill, and Richard loved the sound of it, the way it seemed to smooth out across the room.
"I gave you money this morning," Richard said mildly, folding his coat, then lying it over the heavy clothes chest.
"Lost it." Alec's voice was glib and self-pleasing. "Aren't you going to feed me?"
Richard stilled for a moment, feeling off-place. Everything about Alec screamed outsider, from his long tail of hair to his frayed robe, his voice and his stance and his eyes, half dead and more alive than any of the Riversiders. He threw Richard off pace, sending his life into some kind of organized chaos of fucking and fighting and fucking some more, and Richard didn't know what to make of it, except that Richard might be growing fond of it.
"We can go to Rosalie's," Richard said, picking up his coat again. When he turned, Alec was staring at him, eyes wide and lips thin, and Richard smiled a bit. "Shall we?"
He was half-way down the stairs when Alec caught up with him, a flutter of scholar's robes against Richard's skin when Alec brushed close.
"I don't," Alec said, without much bite at all, "like her stew."
Richard laughed, and wondered when he was going to become the desperate one.
What You Want
"It doesn't hurt," Alec said cheerfully, straddling Richard's lap. His eyes were a little hazy, and his breath a little bitter, and Richard wondered how much, exactly, Alec had been drinking before he'd stumbled home.
"Alec," he said patiently, curling his fingers around Alec's wrist loosely. "You're drunk, go to bed."
"I," Alec said back, parroting Richard's tone with far too much skill, "am practically sober. It's unrespectable, for a man of my caliber and standing. Now hold still--"
"Alec--"
In comparison, a pinprick didn't hurt nearly so much as, say, being beaten within an inch of his life, or being nearly run through with a sword of a particular width. Still, it was the idea of a thing, and there were some things that were well and good for the boys from the Hill, and weren't quite so well and good for the men from Riverside.
"There," Alec breathed, sounding particularly pleased. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his mouth pursed, but his eyes were a little brighter, and after a moment, a corner of his mouth twisted up in an entirely Alec manner.
"Alec," Richard tried again, trying to reach for his ear, and sighing when Alec batted his hand away absently.
"A sapphire, I think," Alec was saying, sounding more and more pleased with himself. "Less flashy than a diamond, but nice enough. You can buy it with the money from your next job."
"Alec--"
"Would you prefer a ruby? God, your tastes sometime--"
Richard clamped his hand over Alec's mouth, hoping Alec wouldn't feel the need to do something so extreme as bite him. When Alec stayed still, and no teeth found their way into Richard's hand, Richard tried again.
"Alec, I didn't want--"
Alec licked Richard's hand right about then, and Richard pulled his hand back before Alec decided teeth were a weapon far greater than his tongue. Alec was nearly glaring at Richard, eyes narrowed and fever-bright.
"Sometimes," Alec dragged the words out slowly, leaning forward until his mouth was against Richard's ear, "it's too late to go back, even if we don't want it." His tongue flicked out, barely touching Richard's ear, and Richard swallowed dryly at the groan Alec gave, shuddering in Richard's lap.
"Wouldn't you agree, Richard?"
Titles aren't set in stone. Should I come up with different (better?) titles, they're totally gonna be changed.
(someday, I'm totally going to sleep)
