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Entry tags:
I totally needed another fic in 2008.
Fandom: Kyo Kara Maoh!
Title: Questions (If you can think of a better title, please comment! I'll use it!)
Rating: G
Pairing: Conrad/Gwendal
Summary: Why do people keep asking Gwendal questions about something he doesn’t understand? (Give me a better summary! I suck right now!)
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. The companies that make a lot of money off of them own them, obviously.
Author's notes: I realized I hadn’t written anything for them in a while, and they were being really sweet in my brain. So.
Warnings: This could be gen, or it could be slash. Pick your favorite. I know what my interpretation is. Also, this is completely unbeta'ed, and like, written in an hour. Seriously.
Feedback: I am a junkie, feed my addiction. I especially like constructive criticism. Just let me know anything you think.
E-mail: Moriavis@hotmail.com
~*~
Gwendal closed his eyes, inhaled, and counted to ten.
He exhaled.
When he opened his eyes, she was still there, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
He suddenly, fiercely, envied His Majesty’s ability to disappear into another world.
"What should I do? Should I choose Alfred, or Willhem?" the girl sniffled delicately into a handkerchief. "I lo—"
Gwendal dropped his head into the cradle of his palms. "Don’t say that word." Someday, His Majesty would have to suffer the indignity of these questions. Gwendal would make sure of it.
She dropped her handkerchief and blinked at him. "I’m sorry, Your Excellency?"
"That word," Gwendal rumbled, placing his hands flat on his desk, rising to tower ominously above her. "I don't know. Ask me something that makes sense!"
The door creaked open, and Gwendal transferred his glare from the girl to the intruder without a pause. Conrad slipped inside the room and came up to him, unfazed by Gwendal's expression. "Is everything all right?" Conrad asked him softly, nodding at the scared girl and resting a quelling hand on Gwendal's shoulder. "I could hear you from the hall."
"When will this insanity end?" Gwendal asked Conrad, equally soft. "If one more person asks me about love, I'm going to—send them to Anissina."
Conrad huffed a laugh at that. "I'll take care of this," Conrad promised, and then turned his sweetest smile on the girl, walking over to her and taking her hand in his. "I apologize for my brother," Conrad said, and Gwendal scowled in annoyance at the way she melted under Conrad's attention. "Lord von Voltaire is uncomfortable when it comes to discussing the matters of the heart. If you wouldn't mind, I would be happy to speak with you."
She darted a look at Gwendal and his forbidding expression, and nodded frantically at Conrad, who eased her from her chair and guided her to the door. He flashed Gwendal a quick smile as he followed her into the hallway.
"Pardon me," Conrad said, and Gwendal stared at his back, recognizing the tone of his voice. It was his captain voice; the one that was powerful enough to be heard across a courtyard of training soldiers, and inside, it was strikingly loud. "If you have a personal question, please line up over here. We would be pleased to listen to your concerns."
Gwendal saw people stepping out of his line and hesitantly going over to Conrad; he had to avert his eyes for a moment as a warm rush of affection flushed through him.
The next citizen came through the door and sat down. Gwendal looked at him, and he began talking about how he thought his neighbor had altered his property line; Gwendal nodded in the appropriate places, listening with only half an ear.
Perhaps he had been a little unfair to that girl, he thought. It was possible he knew more about love than he realized.
*fin*
Title: Questions (If you can think of a better title, please comment! I'll use it!)
Rating: G
Pairing: Conrad/Gwendal
Summary: Why do people keep asking Gwendal questions about something he doesn’t understand? (Give me a better summary! I suck right now!)
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. The companies that make a lot of money off of them own them, obviously.
Author's notes: I realized I hadn’t written anything for them in a while, and they were being really sweet in my brain. So.
Warnings: This could be gen, or it could be slash. Pick your favorite. I know what my interpretation is. Also, this is completely unbeta'ed, and like, written in an hour. Seriously.
Feedback: I am a junkie, feed my addiction. I especially like constructive criticism. Just let me know anything you think.
E-mail: Moriavis@hotmail.com
~*~
Gwendal closed his eyes, inhaled, and counted to ten.
He exhaled.
When he opened his eyes, she was still there, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
He suddenly, fiercely, envied His Majesty’s ability to disappear into another world.
"What should I do? Should I choose Alfred, or Willhem?" the girl sniffled delicately into a handkerchief. "I lo—"
Gwendal dropped his head into the cradle of his palms. "Don’t say that word." Someday, His Majesty would have to suffer the indignity of these questions. Gwendal would make sure of it.
She dropped her handkerchief and blinked at him. "I’m sorry, Your Excellency?"
"That word," Gwendal rumbled, placing his hands flat on his desk, rising to tower ominously above her. "I don't know. Ask me something that makes sense!"
The door creaked open, and Gwendal transferred his glare from the girl to the intruder without a pause. Conrad slipped inside the room and came up to him, unfazed by Gwendal's expression. "Is everything all right?" Conrad asked him softly, nodding at the scared girl and resting a quelling hand on Gwendal's shoulder. "I could hear you from the hall."
"When will this insanity end?" Gwendal asked Conrad, equally soft. "If one more person asks me about love, I'm going to—send them to Anissina."
Conrad huffed a laugh at that. "I'll take care of this," Conrad promised, and then turned his sweetest smile on the girl, walking over to her and taking her hand in his. "I apologize for my brother," Conrad said, and Gwendal scowled in annoyance at the way she melted under Conrad's attention. "Lord von Voltaire is uncomfortable when it comes to discussing the matters of the heart. If you wouldn't mind, I would be happy to speak with you."
She darted a look at Gwendal and his forbidding expression, and nodded frantically at Conrad, who eased her from her chair and guided her to the door. He flashed Gwendal a quick smile as he followed her into the hallway.
"Pardon me," Conrad said, and Gwendal stared at his back, recognizing the tone of his voice. It was his captain voice; the one that was powerful enough to be heard across a courtyard of training soldiers, and inside, it was strikingly loud. "If you have a personal question, please line up over here. We would be pleased to listen to your concerns."
Gwendal saw people stepping out of his line and hesitantly going over to Conrad; he had to avert his eyes for a moment as a warm rush of affection flushed through him.
The next citizen came through the door and sat down. Gwendal looked at him, and he began talking about how he thought his neighbor had altered his property line; Gwendal nodded in the appropriate places, listening with only half an ear.
Perhaps he had been a little unfair to that girl, he thought. It was possible he knew more about love than he realized.
*fin*
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I've decided that I need to finish lots of my kkm fic. We need more Conrad/Gwendal in the world.
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Demon incest for everyone!(Possibly I am very tired, since I just got up.)no subject
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