The Green Planet drabble
Eheheheh... So, Nikery wrote a lovely little smutfic for Zantier. The Arycian in my head promptly jumped up and down and insisted on being allowed to go walk in on them. Nikery encouraged him. -.-;; So, yeah...
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It really was just a bizarre coincidence, the sort that come about usually through divine intervention or magical warping of probability streams, that Arycian needed to visit Zantier's office that day. Somehow some of Zantier's paperwork had ended up in the sheaf delivered to him by the sweet little page boy whose name he could never remember but was fairly certain started with a B.
So, rather than doing it for Zantier, (Because really, where was the fun in that?) Arycian was returning it to his fellow Sendrian. He thought he was being rather nice, really. He could have simply made Zantier come fetch it himself, but then that would have put Zantier in Arycian's office and that really wasn't a good place for Zantier to be.
He was about half a hallway away when his sharp hearing picked up the sound of voices coming from Zantier's office. Odd, as normal, sane people tended to spend as little time in Zantier's office as possible. Curious, he padded silently up the hall, pausing for just a moment before firmly grasping the latch and walking in.
A very naked Zantier looked up at him from the floor where he was seated with an equally naked Indigo Knight, the scent of exactly what they'd been doing that made them that way hanging heavy in the air like an erotic perfume. It took Arycian several moments to process what he was seeing - it was Zantier after all - during which the darker Sendrian screeched and grabbed the nearest article of clothing to cover himself with.
"Arycian! What are you doing here?"
Arycian let a slow, lazy smirk spread across his features. This made the entire trip so very worth it. "I came to return a few papers of yours," he replied, "But as I can see that you're... busy... maybe I should return them later." He paused, then grinned. "And hello, Ziern."
The Indigo Knight seemed remarkably calmer about the whole affair, though his cheeks were slightly flushed. "Advisor Arycian," he returned.
"Out!" Zantier insisted, snatching the papers out of his hand and pointing at the door. "Out. Now." He had a shirt, not his, held precariously to protect his modesty.
Arycian snickered. "Yes, oh naked one," mocked, turning and sauntering back out the way he'd come, his gleeful chuckles filling the hallway a moment later.
Zantier slammed the door closed behind him, locking it firmly before sagging against it with a quiet moan. Ziern got up off the floor, apparently unconcerned about his nudity, and gently touched Zantier's arm with his gloved hand.
"Sorry," he murmured. "I should have seen that..." He paused, then the Indigo Knight smiled ruefully. "Though, his Majesty may have put a block on Arycian so I don't see anything improper."
"So instead he just waltzes in here to humiliate me," Zantier snapped. "Of course."
Ziern blinked. "Is it really that bad?"
Zantier scowled. "It's Arycian. Of course it's that bad."
Ziern considered for a moment, idly stroking the deep indigo crystal set into the back of his glove. "If you're really concerned about it, I could speak with his Majesty about asking Arycian to stay quiet..."
Zantier blanched. "No!" He shook his head swiftly, a few strands of dark hair coming free in the process. "No. His Majesty... I don't want his Majesty involved. That would almost be worse."
"Well, if it makes you feel better," Ziern offered, "I don't see anything particularly horrid occuring as a result..."
Zantier sighed. "No, not really. He's just going to hold this over my head for the next thirty years or so..."
Ziern blinked. "Thirty years?"
Zantier sighed again, banging his head quietly against the door. "It's Arycian," he repeated, as though that explained it all. And perhaps it did.
---
It really was just a bizarre coincidence, the sort that come about usually through divine intervention or magical warping of probability streams, that Arycian needed to visit Zantier's office that day. Somehow some of Zantier's paperwork had ended up in the sheaf delivered to him by the sweet little page boy whose name he could never remember but was fairly certain started with a B.
So, rather than doing it for Zantier, (Because really, where was the fun in that?) Arycian was returning it to his fellow Sendrian. He thought he was being rather nice, really. He could have simply made Zantier come fetch it himself, but then that would have put Zantier in Arycian's office and that really wasn't a good place for Zantier to be.
He was about half a hallway away when his sharp hearing picked up the sound of voices coming from Zantier's office. Odd, as normal, sane people tended to spend as little time in Zantier's office as possible. Curious, he padded silently up the hall, pausing for just a moment before firmly grasping the latch and walking in.
A very naked Zantier looked up at him from the floor where he was seated with an equally naked Indigo Knight, the scent of exactly what they'd been doing that made them that way hanging heavy in the air like an erotic perfume. It took Arycian several moments to process what he was seeing - it was Zantier after all - during which the darker Sendrian screeched and grabbed the nearest article of clothing to cover himself with.
"Arycian! What are you doing here?"
Arycian let a slow, lazy smirk spread across his features. This made the entire trip so very worth it. "I came to return a few papers of yours," he replied, "But as I can see that you're... busy... maybe I should return them later." He paused, then grinned. "And hello, Ziern."
The Indigo Knight seemed remarkably calmer about the whole affair, though his cheeks were slightly flushed. "Advisor Arycian," he returned.
"Out!" Zantier insisted, snatching the papers out of his hand and pointing at the door. "Out. Now." He had a shirt, not his, held precariously to protect his modesty.
Arycian snickered. "Yes, oh naked one," mocked, turning and sauntering back out the way he'd come, his gleeful chuckles filling the hallway a moment later.
Zantier slammed the door closed behind him, locking it firmly before sagging against it with a quiet moan. Ziern got up off the floor, apparently unconcerned about his nudity, and gently touched Zantier's arm with his gloved hand.
"Sorry," he murmured. "I should have seen that..." He paused, then the Indigo Knight smiled ruefully. "Though, his Majesty may have put a block on Arycian so I don't see anything improper."
"So instead he just waltzes in here to humiliate me," Zantier snapped. "Of course."
Ziern blinked. "Is it really that bad?"
Zantier scowled. "It's Arycian. Of course it's that bad."
Ziern considered for a moment, idly stroking the deep indigo crystal set into the back of his glove. "If you're really concerned about it, I could speak with his Majesty about asking Arycian to stay quiet..."
Zantier blanched. "No!" He shook his head swiftly, a few strands of dark hair coming free in the process. "No. His Majesty... I don't want his Majesty involved. That would almost be worse."
"Well, if it makes you feel better," Ziern offered, "I don't see anything particularly horrid occuring as a result..."
Zantier sighed. "No, not really. He's just going to hold this over my head for the next thirty years or so..."
Ziern blinked. "Thirty years?"
Zantier sighed again, banging his head quietly against the door. "It's Arycian," he repeated, as though that explained it all. And perhaps it did.