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Apr. 7th, 2006 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
knights_say_nihMartin and Elshian.
“But dad, he’s boring.”
Arithon pressed a hand to his temple, with much the expression of an adult getting a migraine, and stared at his thirteen year old daughter with a longsuffering expression.
“Elshian, behave yourself. Martin is part of your family and like it or not, he’s staying here. You will be expected to stay with him and make sure he’s alright.”
The thirteen year old stuck her lip out in a pout that was carefully calculated to melt the hearts of adults- Lord knows it worked on Random, and planted her hands on her hips. Arithon, it seems, isn’t swayed, and shoos her gently.
“Go find him. I think he’ll be out in the garden.”
“The garden. Tending his silly plants. That’s all he ever does” grumbles Elshie, making for the door.
Arithon shakes his head, and goes back to his work.
* * * *
Martin of Amber is, as predicted, in the garden when Elshian finds him, engrossed in the study of the bark of a tree, knees of his jeans grass stained and dirt in his hair.
She comes up behind him as he reaches into the bag beside him, pulling out a scalpel and lifting it to cut a sliver off the wood, a look of fierce concentration on his face.
He really is unforgivably boring, she thinks to herself. Not willing to dance around like she does with her uncle Random and not able to shoot a gun properly like Ramon is teaching her to and perfectly willing to tell her all about plants and even the fact that he’s older than she is which was originally exciting just doesn’t make up for it.
“What are you doing?”
“Jesus fucking Christ on a bicycle…”
The scalpel falls from his hand; Martin jumps a foot in the air, and bursts into a colourful stream of profanity that lapses through English, Spanish, Portuguese and even incorporates a little Paravian.
By the end of it, Elshie’s green eyes are wide in amazement and the startled boy is slumped back against the tree.
“Teach me how to do that.”
She demands it, accompanied with a good natured poke to his chest and a look on her face that reminds Martin so much of his Aunt Bianca that he has to wonder what he’s gotten himself into.
“But dad, he’s boring.”
Arithon pressed a hand to his temple, with much the expression of an adult getting a migraine, and stared at his thirteen year old daughter with a longsuffering expression.
“Elshian, behave yourself. Martin is part of your family and like it or not, he’s staying here. You will be expected to stay with him and make sure he’s alright.”
The thirteen year old stuck her lip out in a pout that was carefully calculated to melt the hearts of adults- Lord knows it worked on Random, and planted her hands on her hips. Arithon, it seems, isn’t swayed, and shoos her gently.
“Go find him. I think he’ll be out in the garden.”
“The garden. Tending his silly plants. That’s all he ever does” grumbles Elshie, making for the door.
Arithon shakes his head, and goes back to his work.
* * * *
Martin of Amber is, as predicted, in the garden when Elshian finds him, engrossed in the study of the bark of a tree, knees of his jeans grass stained and dirt in his hair.
She comes up behind him as he reaches into the bag beside him, pulling out a scalpel and lifting it to cut a sliver off the wood, a look of fierce concentration on his face.
He really is unforgivably boring, she thinks to herself. Not willing to dance around like she does with her uncle Random and not able to shoot a gun properly like Ramon is teaching her to and perfectly willing to tell her all about plants and even the fact that he’s older than she is which was originally exciting just doesn’t make up for it.
“What are you doing?”
“Jesus fucking Christ on a bicycle…”
The scalpel falls from his hand; Martin jumps a foot in the air, and bursts into a colourful stream of profanity that lapses through English, Spanish, Portuguese and even incorporates a little Paravian.
By the end of it, Elshie’s green eyes are wide in amazement and the startled boy is slumped back against the tree.
“Teach me how to do that.”
She demands it, accompanied with a good natured poke to his chest and a look on her face that reminds Martin so much of his Aunt Bianca that he has to wonder what he’s gotten himself into.
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Date: 2006-04-08 07:52 am (UTC)