sibling rivalry.
Mar. 25th, 2009 11:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
from_the_west[n.b.: first posted here.]
the pride's children. this takes place shortly after caladh's first successful voyage as captain of his own ship. (huan went with him.) he's a bit young himself, high school senior or early college age equivalent and very excited and full of himself (he got better?), all the way down to brenan, who's lurking somewhere in pre-teen territory. not that one can tell. they're actually all between a century and change, and three centuries and a few decades old, and rather silly. that much never really changes.
******
"I think you've been out to sea too long; he's lost all his wit and charm, tá." Jia mused absently, fingering the edge of a dagger, drawing the edge gleaming white-hot, before dipping it into a bowl of water.
"Tá, never has to use it, speaking only to sea cows." Alistar grinned. "Isn't that so, Huan?"
"Do not look at me, Braithir-sextus--I keep my words sheathed until I have need of them, and so they still shine, like my blade, tá."
"However, it appears that our first brother's words have grown barnacles and now they scratch a lady's ear." Jia said, amused. She passed a hand over the blade, drying it, and then the dagger was tossed. Huan caught it, felt the weight and balance, nodded his thanks to his sister and put it away.
"Maybe the lady is immune, tá?" Eóin suggested quietly, from where he sat on the ground nearby, sketching. "Perhaps she doesn't care for men. Or princes."
"Heresy! Tis no one that breathes immune to such gifts as our tongues possess!" Huan said grandly, arms flung wide, in perfect mocking mimicry of their eldest brother.
"Then what's his tongue's excuse, again?" Alistar snickered.
"Not using it right, I wager." Brenan said, innocently enough. Huan and Jia choked on laughter.
"Aye! Is as I said, too long at sea, tá." Alistar replied cheerfully.
"His tongue likely shriveled up from all the salted fish and the salt air, tá." Brenan offered.
"Salted whores as well, and the salted hides of all his men." Jia added.
Brenan fell over giggling. Huan shook his head at him.
"Probably licks the planks of his vessel too, instead of taking a broom to her like all the other captaenan." Alistar added.
"I can hear you lot over there, and I tell you the lady is impossible!" Caladh protested loudly enough to make them all cringe. "Heart of frozen stone in the dead of winter, she has, and guarded by thorns! Why, I can't even win her name!"
"Impossible, is she? Excuses, says I! Why I'd wager that even Eóin could win her name at least, tá." Alistar laughed, flinging his thought equally wide, so the other siblings could hear.
"Eóin!? I hardly think so." Caladh boomed back, his mental voice reverberating through their skulls.
Alistar looked at the others, with a wicked grin. "Well?"
"I'm in, Aly!" Brenan answered immediately.
"Tá, me also." Jia agreed.
"And I." Said Huan, nodding. They all looked at Eóin. A long pause, and he started, and blinked up at them.
"...Oh, nil hea, you'll be leaving me out of this--"
"--C'mon, Eóin!" Alistar called, and Huan was there and then he wasn't, and then he was again, but he held a plain dark walnut wooden box in his hands. Huan was frighteningly quick.
"My ink!" Eóin cried, reaching, and Huan tossed the box to Brenan, who backed away still further. Best of luck trying to get anything back from the youngest if he chose not to give it up. He was small but ridiculously strong, and since the others had ignored him or shooed him away at first, he'd latched on to Alistair, who was next in line. He did pretty much anything that Alistair asked. Unfortunately, pretty much everything Alistair asked involved helping to get them all into trouble. His older half-siblings had noticed this. They had, in fact, had long and involved discussions revolving around this very topic. And yet the next time Alistair came along with some notion that was equal parts hare-brained and brilliant, they all found themselves ensnared, somehow.
"Sooner you win her name and win us our wager, sooner we'll leave you be, tá?" Alistar beamed.
"Give over me ink and brushes first, and I'll go win your lady." Eóin demanded, folding his arms. Alistar considered it. There was little point in trying to out-wait a dryad's son. He could stand rooted to one spot for far longer than any of them had the patience to bear.
"Give them over, Bren."
"Tá." Brenan tossed the box.
"Alright, y'got the box. Now go talk to the girl!" Alistar demanded.
Eóin gave them all a rather black look, took up his box of inks and brushes and all his paper, and stalked across the way to where Caladh was still trying, without success, to impress the girl. He was amusingly slight in comparison, tilting his head of green-and-gold-streaked dark curls up at the eldest sibling--and then back to the girl again. Who was standing there, hand on hip, regarding Caladh with all due contempt.
"Answer me this--now that I can get a word in edgewise--do you ever stop talkin' about yourself at any point?" She asked to know.
Eóin shrugged, settled himself back on the ground again, propped his chin on one hand, and watched.
Caladh looked down at him, exasperated. "What?"
"I was comin' to tell you that y'were bein' summoned, but I was curious as to the answer to that one m'self." Eóin answered, solemnly.
"You--!" Caladh swung a booted foot in Eóin's direction, but he'd anticipated this and rolled, tumbling out of the way. The young lady covered her mouth with her hand, but the giggling escaped anyway. "Fine!" Caladh threw his hands up and retreated, as Eóin tumbled back, ending up sitting right where he'd begun, albeit with a few stray leaves and bits of grass in his hair and on his clothes.
He winked at the girl, flipped open the box, and began tinkering around a bit. The girl gave him a puzzled look. He held up one hand, gesturing her to be patient, took up a brush, and began to swipe energetically at his paper. The girl, intrigued, fluffed her skirts and settled down on the sun-warmed grass also. She had hardly gotten settled, when Eóin gave his sheet of paper a series of dramatic finishing strokes, and turned it about so she might see.
"Ah, tis a fine sketch of a rose, all in pink and yellow! How's that done, when I never saw you once put your brush to the ink again?"
"I took all the colors I needed into the brush at once." He said, and then he carefully reached into the paper and took the rose out of it. "An tiu." He said, softly, seriously, as he offered the flower. "Beauty by beauty inspired."
The girl took it, and turned it about in wonder. The rose sparkled. It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, anything resembling real; it remained little more than a notion, suggested entirely by the swift masterful strokes of Eóin's brush, except now it was in three dimensions, exceedingly delicate, next to weightless and held very, very, carefully in her hand.
"My light!" She breathed, as if afraid that to say it any louder would cause her gift to shatter. "Now that's a clever trick. You're a master, you are."
"Unfortunately such a vision cannot last long once plucked from the page. It has no substance and will soon fade." Eóin said woefully. "I can only hope that this is not true of the one that inspired it, tá?"
"I certainly hope not!" She laughed.
"I suppose time will tell, nil hea?" He smiled a little, then and bowed his head. "I am Eóin."
Her smile was still very much in evidence as she inclined her head in turn. "I am Keara."
Alistar looked up at Caladh. Grinned.
Caladh looked down at him. Scowled.
"Don't you say a single--"
"--I win again!"
Alistar ducked Caladh's fist, laughing, Brenan immediately launched himself at Caladh, Huan tried to pull him loose, Alistair attacked Huan, and within seconds, all four were tumbling about on the ground, struggling, red-faced and cursing. Jia, who was carefully sculpting some intricate trinket in silver, extended her leg, slid her bowl of water out of harm's way with one foot, and then continued to ignore them completely.
Keara regarded this with open amusement, as Eóin sighed and packed everything away inside his box. "Are they like that all the time?"
Eóin rose to his feet and offered her a hand as well. "Not at all." He said, solemnly. "Sometimes they're a great deal worse."
the pride's children. this takes place shortly after caladh's first successful voyage as captain of his own ship. (huan went with him.) he's a bit young himself, high school senior or early college age equivalent and very excited and full of himself (he got better?), all the way down to brenan, who's lurking somewhere in pre-teen territory. not that one can tell. they're actually all between a century and change, and three centuries and a few decades old, and rather silly. that much never really changes.
******
"I think you've been out to sea too long; he's lost all his wit and charm, tá." Jia mused absently, fingering the edge of a dagger, drawing the edge gleaming white-hot, before dipping it into a bowl of water.
"Tá, never has to use it, speaking only to sea cows." Alistar grinned. "Isn't that so, Huan?"
"Do not look at me, Braithir-sextus--I keep my words sheathed until I have need of them, and so they still shine, like my blade, tá."
"However, it appears that our first brother's words have grown barnacles and now they scratch a lady's ear." Jia said, amused. She passed a hand over the blade, drying it, and then the dagger was tossed. Huan caught it, felt the weight and balance, nodded his thanks to his sister and put it away.
"Maybe the lady is immune, tá?" Eóin suggested quietly, from where he sat on the ground nearby, sketching. "Perhaps she doesn't care for men. Or princes."
"Heresy! Tis no one that breathes immune to such gifts as our tongues possess!" Huan said grandly, arms flung wide, in perfect mocking mimicry of their eldest brother.
"Then what's his tongue's excuse, again?" Alistar snickered.
"Not using it right, I wager." Brenan said, innocently enough. Huan and Jia choked on laughter.
"Aye! Is as I said, too long at sea, tá." Alistar replied cheerfully.
"His tongue likely shriveled up from all the salted fish and the salt air, tá." Brenan offered.
"Salted whores as well, and the salted hides of all his men." Jia added.
Brenan fell over giggling. Huan shook his head at him.
"Probably licks the planks of his vessel too, instead of taking a broom to her like all the other captaenan." Alistar added.
"I can hear you lot over there, and I tell you the lady is impossible!" Caladh protested loudly enough to make them all cringe. "Heart of frozen stone in the dead of winter, she has, and guarded by thorns! Why, I can't even win her name!"
"Impossible, is she? Excuses, says I! Why I'd wager that even Eóin could win her name at least, tá." Alistar laughed, flinging his thought equally wide, so the other siblings could hear.
"Eóin!? I hardly think so." Caladh boomed back, his mental voice reverberating through their skulls.
Alistar looked at the others, with a wicked grin. "Well?"
"I'm in, Aly!" Brenan answered immediately.
"Tá, me also." Jia agreed.
"And I." Said Huan, nodding. They all looked at Eóin. A long pause, and he started, and blinked up at them.
"...Oh, nil hea, you'll be leaving me out of this--"
"--C'mon, Eóin!" Alistar called, and Huan was there and then he wasn't, and then he was again, but he held a plain dark walnut wooden box in his hands. Huan was frighteningly quick.
"My ink!" Eóin cried, reaching, and Huan tossed the box to Brenan, who backed away still further. Best of luck trying to get anything back from the youngest if he chose not to give it up. He was small but ridiculously strong, and since the others had ignored him or shooed him away at first, he'd latched on to Alistair, who was next in line. He did pretty much anything that Alistair asked. Unfortunately, pretty much everything Alistair asked involved helping to get them all into trouble. His older half-siblings had noticed this. They had, in fact, had long and involved discussions revolving around this very topic. And yet the next time Alistair came along with some notion that was equal parts hare-brained and brilliant, they all found themselves ensnared, somehow.
"Sooner you win her name and win us our wager, sooner we'll leave you be, tá?" Alistar beamed.
"Give over me ink and brushes first, and I'll go win your lady." Eóin demanded, folding his arms. Alistar considered it. There was little point in trying to out-wait a dryad's son. He could stand rooted to one spot for far longer than any of them had the patience to bear.
"Give them over, Bren."
"Tá." Brenan tossed the box.
"Alright, y'got the box. Now go talk to the girl!" Alistar demanded.
Eóin gave them all a rather black look, took up his box of inks and brushes and all his paper, and stalked across the way to where Caladh was still trying, without success, to impress the girl. He was amusingly slight in comparison, tilting his head of green-and-gold-streaked dark curls up at the eldest sibling--and then back to the girl again. Who was standing there, hand on hip, regarding Caladh with all due contempt.
"Answer me this--now that I can get a word in edgewise--do you ever stop talkin' about yourself at any point?" She asked to know.
Eóin shrugged, settled himself back on the ground again, propped his chin on one hand, and watched.
Caladh looked down at him, exasperated. "What?"
"I was comin' to tell you that y'were bein' summoned, but I was curious as to the answer to that one m'self." Eóin answered, solemnly.
"You--!" Caladh swung a booted foot in Eóin's direction, but he'd anticipated this and rolled, tumbling out of the way. The young lady covered her mouth with her hand, but the giggling escaped anyway. "Fine!" Caladh threw his hands up and retreated, as Eóin tumbled back, ending up sitting right where he'd begun, albeit with a few stray leaves and bits of grass in his hair and on his clothes.
He winked at the girl, flipped open the box, and began tinkering around a bit. The girl gave him a puzzled look. He held up one hand, gesturing her to be patient, took up a brush, and began to swipe energetically at his paper. The girl, intrigued, fluffed her skirts and settled down on the sun-warmed grass also. She had hardly gotten settled, when Eóin gave his sheet of paper a series of dramatic finishing strokes, and turned it about so she might see.
"Ah, tis a fine sketch of a rose, all in pink and yellow! How's that done, when I never saw you once put your brush to the ink again?"
"I took all the colors I needed into the brush at once." He said, and then he carefully reached into the paper and took the rose out of it. "An tiu." He said, softly, seriously, as he offered the flower. "Beauty by beauty inspired."
The girl took it, and turned it about in wonder. The rose sparkled. It was not, by any stretch of the imagination, anything resembling real; it remained little more than a notion, suggested entirely by the swift masterful strokes of Eóin's brush, except now it was in three dimensions, exceedingly delicate, next to weightless and held very, very, carefully in her hand.
"My light!" She breathed, as if afraid that to say it any louder would cause her gift to shatter. "Now that's a clever trick. You're a master, you are."
"Unfortunately such a vision cannot last long once plucked from the page. It has no substance and will soon fade." Eóin said woefully. "I can only hope that this is not true of the one that inspired it, tá?"
"I certainly hope not!" She laughed.
"I suppose time will tell, nil hea?" He smiled a little, then and bowed his head. "I am Eóin."
Her smile was still very much in evidence as she inclined her head in turn. "I am Keara."
Alistar looked up at Caladh. Grinned.
Caladh looked down at him. Scowled.
"Don't you say a single--"
"--I win again!"
Alistar ducked Caladh's fist, laughing, Brenan immediately launched himself at Caladh, Huan tried to pull him loose, Alistair attacked Huan, and within seconds, all four were tumbling about on the ground, struggling, red-faced and cursing. Jia, who was carefully sculpting some intricate trinket in silver, extended her leg, slid her bowl of water out of harm's way with one foot, and then continued to ignore them completely.
Keara regarded this with open amusement, as Eóin sighed and packed everything away inside his box. "Are they like that all the time?"
Eóin rose to his feet and offered her a hand as well. "Not at all." He said, solemnly. "Sometimes they're a great deal worse."
