SION ASTAL. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sunderings) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pawnstorm2016-06-04 03:03 pm
sunderings) wrote in pawnstorm2016-06-04 03:03 pm
Entry tags:
(CLOSED) it's a war dance
Who: Sion Astal & Aisha Clanclan
When: 06/05
Where: Caissa Center Plaza
What: Have a Drink! and related shennanigans.
Rating: PG?!
[ He'd taken her by the hand when word of the festival reached his ears, hardly needing Jaunne Cinna's request to offer the Lady a King's escort to the central plaza of the capital where the fair citizens of Caissa were sure to have congregated in celebration. Where he had once shied away from such things—how he had stood, distant and removed, when the color and merriment of First Bloom had decorated the city streets!—he is now only at play, light of heart and carefree as a summer's breeze which would carry all troubles up, up and away into the aether.
The aether which Sion seems to be considering intently now, for how he sorely wished for his wings here, in this moment...! ]
My Lady Aisha— [ His voice is (theatrically!) grave, his golden eyes falling shut for an instant when all seems to go still, and he can keenly feel the warmth of sunlight upon his face; the wind tousling his hair. ] —had I but known we would meet with our end in such a way, I would have insisted that we both bring a spare change of uniform.
[ Corralled at the fountain at the center of the plaza, they stand back to back, surrounded by a ring of water-gun toting robots and revelers. But even if there is only one future which might come to pass (and that is a thoroughly soaked-through, thoroughly sodden future!), Sion will rise to it, beckoning it forth with a beautiful, willful smile.
And it is this smile which is turned to Aisha as he glances back, over his shoulder, catching her eyes: ]
Then... shall we go out with a splash?
[ Perhaps they are not done just yet. There's a glint to his eye, and one last card up his (addmittedly already quite damp!) sleeve. ]
When: 06/05
Where: Caissa Center Plaza
What: Have a Drink! and related shennanigans.
Rating: PG?!
[ He'd taken her by the hand when word of the festival reached his ears, hardly needing Jaunne Cinna's request to offer the Lady a King's escort to the central plaza of the capital where the fair citizens of Caissa were sure to have congregated in celebration. Where he had once shied away from such things—how he had stood, distant and removed, when the color and merriment of First Bloom had decorated the city streets!—he is now only at play, light of heart and carefree as a summer's breeze which would carry all troubles up, up and away into the aether.
The aether which Sion seems to be considering intently now, for how he sorely wished for his wings here, in this moment...! ]
My Lady Aisha— [ His voice is (theatrically!) grave, his golden eyes falling shut for an instant when all seems to go still, and he can keenly feel the warmth of sunlight upon his face; the wind tousling his hair. ] —had I but known we would meet with our end in such a way, I would have insisted that we both bring a spare change of uniform.
[ Corralled at the fountain at the center of the plaza, they stand back to back, surrounded by a ring of water-gun toting robots and revelers. But even if there is only one future which might come to pass (and that is a thoroughly soaked-through, thoroughly sodden future!), Sion will rise to it, beckoning it forth with a beautiful, willful smile.
And it is this smile which is turned to Aisha as he glances back, over his shoulder, catching her eyes: ]
Then... shall we go out with a splash?
[ Perhaps they are not done just yet. There's a glint to his eye, and one last card up his (addmittedly already quite damp!) sleeve. ]
1/2
Hers is a comfortable weight against him, as they recline in embrace, the tall blades of grass which have become their bed swaying and bending in the breeze to tickle at their arms and legs, their feet. He is happy, still, he is certain of it (even as his chest constricts, and for a moment, as surely as he is smiling, he seems to be on the verge of crying as well), but in his heart he knows that the person his people trust in, the King who shoulders all of their hopes...
That beacon of light does not exist.
And perhaps a long time ago, Sion himself had ceased to exist as well. He is a man given fully to his people, a King who would sacrifice anything, and become anyone—conquerer, slaughterer, monster—to save the realm which he loved, and to preserve something soft, gentle, and perhaps very much like the embrace which he hasn't parted from even now.
Aisha's head against his chest, the little flicks of her ears, and the afternoon nap which seems to be looming just around the corner... these things, he would always protect and adore. ]