Fourth Grain of Sand ◊ Teasing
Warnings: Contains subject matters (implied promiscuous and polygamous relationships) Read at your own discretion
Effects: [Optional] Pride, happiness, sense of brotherhood, lust.
Privacy: Filtered from kids.
The dream starts with soft, exotic music, the scent of incense barely covering the smell of leather and wine. The lights are dimmed and Dastan is standing in a richly decorated room, both of his brothers by his sides. He drinks his wine from his goblet with a smile, his gaze scanning the room. Dispersed everywhere are his most trusted men, alongside his brothers’ captains, sitting on velvety pillows or standing as the Prince is. Mixed amongst them are beautiful women, some barely clad in silk and gold, all of them wearing veils and crystals intricate in their hair. Some are dancing, their bodies undulating slowly to the music in sensual waves that leaves little to the imagination; others are serving the men with food and wine while a few are cooing softly into the warriors' ears, completely with soft giggles and touches, as well as coy looks.
The Persian smiles proudly at a group of his men, with his best friend Bis raising his glass to his liege. Another battle, another victory and yet again the Empire has broadened its boundaries. Dastan's attention returns to his brothers as a young woman comes to serve Garsiv, giggling lightly as the Persian commandant whispers something into her ear. The youngest Prince rolls his eyes while the eldest raises an eyebrow as the woman leaves them, giving her tray to a friend before she walks out of the room, her hips swaying lightly.
"It looks like someone is going to retire early..." Tus comments, giving a long look at Garsiv. Dastan slaps him on the back, a smug smirk on his lips:
"You better enjoy these last moments of freedom, brother. Come the end of this month, Bis and I will be the only one allowed to retire early..."
The middle brother groans as he gives his adopted sibling a glare:
"At least, I will always have someone waiting in my bedchambers, little brother."
Dastan burst into laughter:
"That is provided you do not scare her on your wedding night, Garsiv."
While the teasing has the black haired Prince glaring at his brother again, he turns around to smirk at the Crowned Prince:
"If I do, I can always follow Tus' footsteps and take another bride within less than a month after my first wedding..."
Both Princes laugh out loud while the heir to the throne simply rolls his eyes, clearly used to find himself at the end of his brothers' teasing. He has come to think that if it meant for Garsiv and Dastan to work together, he could endure their pranks and teasing. Tus gives an amused look to his youngest brother:
"Be careful on what you comment, Dastan. Your own tying down may come sooner than expected. I heard that the King of Greece is looking for a truce with us. You may have to take a groom instead of a bride."
At this, Garsiv laughs, even though he meets the adopted son of the King's glare. But the angry look turns into an amused one quickly:
"Perhaps I should ask you some advices after your wedding night, Garsiv, then. For I heard that the bride Father has chosen for you to be quite ugly, just to your likings."
It's Dastan's turn to laugh, even though his brother roughly shoves him away before storming out of the room. Tus shakes his head slowly:
"Now you've done it, little brother."
"Don't worry. I am sure Ishtar will ease his mind in no time..." The look of surprise Dastan receives from his brother is expected and he smiles smugly:
"You wed too soon, brother." The Crowned Prince groans exasperatedly, his gaze moving to the flock of dancers.
"Clearly" he answers, nodding to two of them. Dastan follows his gaze and almost beams happily as the two beautiful dancers lower their eyes in respect before beckoning him to come closer. Grinning, he gives his goblet to his brother:
"Keep Bis out of trouble for me, will you? I believe I am in a terrible need for a bath..."
Not even waiting for his brother's answer, which comes in the form of rolling eyes, Dastan walks to the two women, smiling charmingly at them. One arm wraps around a slender waist while the other slips into a small hand:
"Ladies..."
As they giggle and follow him willingly, the Prince can't help but think that his brothers can take all the brides they want: this is what he'll stick with...
[Dastan wakes up, grinning smugly. Finally, a nice memory to dream of! He sighs contently as he rolls over, not noticing the blue light his Dreamberry is emitting.]
Effects: [Optional] Pride, happiness, sense of brotherhood, lust.
Privacy: Filtered from kids.
The dream starts with soft, exotic music, the scent of incense barely covering the smell of leather and wine. The lights are dimmed and Dastan is standing in a richly decorated room, both of his brothers by his sides. He drinks his wine from his goblet with a smile, his gaze scanning the room. Dispersed everywhere are his most trusted men, alongside his brothers’ captains, sitting on velvety pillows or standing as the Prince is. Mixed amongst them are beautiful women, some barely clad in silk and gold, all of them wearing veils and crystals intricate in their hair. Some are dancing, their bodies undulating slowly to the music in sensual waves that leaves little to the imagination; others are serving the men with food and wine while a few are cooing softly into the warriors' ears, completely with soft giggles and touches, as well as coy looks.
The Persian smiles proudly at a group of his men, with his best friend Bis raising his glass to his liege. Another battle, another victory and yet again the Empire has broadened its boundaries. Dastan's attention returns to his brothers as a young woman comes to serve Garsiv, giggling lightly as the Persian commandant whispers something into her ear. The youngest Prince rolls his eyes while the eldest raises an eyebrow as the woman leaves them, giving her tray to a friend before she walks out of the room, her hips swaying lightly.
"It looks like someone is going to retire early..." Tus comments, giving a long look at Garsiv. Dastan slaps him on the back, a smug smirk on his lips:
"You better enjoy these last moments of freedom, brother. Come the end of this month, Bis and I will be the only one allowed to retire early..."
The middle brother groans as he gives his adopted sibling a glare:
"At least, I will always have someone waiting in my bedchambers, little brother."
Dastan burst into laughter:
"That is provided you do not scare her on your wedding night, Garsiv."
While the teasing has the black haired Prince glaring at his brother again, he turns around to smirk at the Crowned Prince:
"If I do, I can always follow Tus' footsteps and take another bride within less than a month after my first wedding..."
Both Princes laugh out loud while the heir to the throne simply rolls his eyes, clearly used to find himself at the end of his brothers' teasing. He has come to think that if it meant for Garsiv and Dastan to work together, he could endure their pranks and teasing. Tus gives an amused look to his youngest brother:
"Be careful on what you comment, Dastan. Your own tying down may come sooner than expected. I heard that the King of Greece is looking for a truce with us. You may have to take a groom instead of a bride."
At this, Garsiv laughs, even though he meets the adopted son of the King's glare. But the angry look turns into an amused one quickly:
"Perhaps I should ask you some advices after your wedding night, Garsiv, then. For I heard that the bride Father has chosen for you to be quite ugly, just to your likings."
It's Dastan's turn to laugh, even though his brother roughly shoves him away before storming out of the room. Tus shakes his head slowly:
"Now you've done it, little brother."
"Don't worry. I am sure Ishtar will ease his mind in no time..." The look of surprise Dastan receives from his brother is expected and he smiles smugly:
"You wed too soon, brother." The Crowned Prince groans exasperatedly, his gaze moving to the flock of dancers.
"Clearly" he answers, nodding to two of them. Dastan follows his gaze and almost beams happily as the two beautiful dancers lower their eyes in respect before beckoning him to come closer. Grinning, he gives his goblet to his brother:
"Keep Bis out of trouble for me, will you? I believe I am in a terrible need for a bath..."
Not even waiting for his brother's answer, which comes in the form of rolling eyes, Dastan walks to the two women, smiling charmingly at them. One arm wraps around a slender waist while the other slips into a small hand:
"Ladies..."
As they giggle and follow him willingly, the Prince can't help but think that his brothers can take all the brides they want: this is what he'll stick with...
[Dastan wakes up, grinning smugly. Finally, a nice memory to dream of! He sighs contently as he rolls over, not noticing the blue light his Dreamberry is emitting.]