[FR] Splendor in the Glade
Title: Splendor in the Glade
Fandom: Flight Rising
Length: 540 words
Rating: Teen
Summary: A story of sartorial finery. Sort of.
“I...don’t know about this hat,” the guardian dragon rumbled. He rolled his eyes upward, as if that would let him see the tiny red fez perched on top of his head.
“Nooo, it’s perfect!” Feoii drummed her fore-toes against the wood floor of their new clan hall, her whiskers curling up with delight, and Dzhawn had to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a most un-imperial squeak of...he wasn’t sure if it was laughter or horror. Only Feoii would tweak the clan chief’s tail like this.
Keri wrinkled his muzzle dubiously as he tried again to see himself in the too-small hand mirror that was propped up against the wall. “It’s not too...hrrmm....”
“It’s very distinguished,” Feoii assured him, straight-faced, and Dzhawn cringed.
I should tell him, he thought. I really should tell him that it’s kind of...silly.
But he couldn’t think of a way to say so that wouldn’t rouse the clan chief’s notoriously short temper and turn it against Feoii. She didn’t mean any harm, she just had a mischievous sense of humor and a very poor sense of appropriateness.
Maybe, if they were lucky, Keri would just follow his own obvious misgivings and turn down the hat....
“Hey, yeah, wow! Lookit that!” Forestfire came bounding across the hall, tail lashing excitedly, and Dzhawn started. Just how long had the mirror dragon been watching all this? “That hat? Is totally perfect on you.”
“Yeah?” Keri wondered, peering down at the other dragon.
“Oh yeah! Hey, wait, where’s the other one?” Forestfire grabbed the shabbier brown fez and stuck it on his own head. “There we go. We are...the thing. Whatsit. Distinguished. Yeah-ain’t nobody at the Gathering going to look as distinguished as us two guys.” He shoulder bumped Keri with enough rough enthusiasm to rock a less solid dragon, and then had to resettle his dislodged hat, grinning all the while. Nearby, Feoii stood absolutely still, smiling beatifically at the two of them, with only the frantic quivering of her tail tip revealing the effort it was taking not to fall on the floor and roll around in hysterical laughter. Forestfire met her gaze, and Dzhawn caught the two-eyed wink he gave her.
Oh no. Now she had a partner in crime.
“I, um....” Dzhawn began, and as he paused to clear his throat, Keri lifted his head and looked past him.
“Sirei?” Keri said tentatively. “What do you think?”
Keri’s mate paused on her way across the room, then changed her path to come closer to them. “I think that hat looks adorable on you,” she said, her green eyes twinkling.
“Adorable!” Keri puffed out his chest in outrage, his face fins rising. “I am not-”
Sirei stepped nearer and smooched him on the muzzle.
“-uh.”
“Carry on, dear,” Sirei said serenely as she continued on her way, leaving her mate raising and lowering his fins in baffled confusion.
And so it happened that the chief of the Smokeveil Clan could be seen at the Greenskeeper Gathering, sitting amid the festivities with ponderous dignity and a jaunty red fez, while an equally fezzed mirror dragon squatted by his side, smirking at the passing crowd with tongue-lolling good humor.
Two goobers. With fezzes.
(Written for Greenskeeper Gathering 2015)
Fandom: Flight Rising
Length: 540 words
Rating: Teen
Summary: A story of sartorial finery. Sort of.
“I...don’t know about this hat,” the guardian dragon rumbled. He rolled his eyes upward, as if that would let him see the tiny red fez perched on top of his head.
“Nooo, it’s perfect!” Feoii drummed her fore-toes against the wood floor of their new clan hall, her whiskers curling up with delight, and Dzhawn had to bite the inside of his cheek to suppress a most un-imperial squeak of...he wasn’t sure if it was laughter or horror. Only Feoii would tweak the clan chief’s tail like this.
Keri wrinkled his muzzle dubiously as he tried again to see himself in the too-small hand mirror that was propped up against the wall. “It’s not too...hrrmm....”
“It’s very distinguished,” Feoii assured him, straight-faced, and Dzhawn cringed.
I should tell him, he thought. I really should tell him that it’s kind of...silly.
But he couldn’t think of a way to say so that wouldn’t rouse the clan chief’s notoriously short temper and turn it against Feoii. She didn’t mean any harm, she just had a mischievous sense of humor and a very poor sense of appropriateness.
Maybe, if they were lucky, Keri would just follow his own obvious misgivings and turn down the hat....
“Hey, yeah, wow! Lookit that!” Forestfire came bounding across the hall, tail lashing excitedly, and Dzhawn started. Just how long had the mirror dragon been watching all this? “That hat? Is totally perfect on you.”
“Yeah?” Keri wondered, peering down at the other dragon.
“Oh yeah! Hey, wait, where’s the other one?” Forestfire grabbed the shabbier brown fez and stuck it on his own head. “There we go. We are...the thing. Whatsit. Distinguished. Yeah-ain’t nobody at the Gathering going to look as distinguished as us two guys.” He shoulder bumped Keri with enough rough enthusiasm to rock a less solid dragon, and then had to resettle his dislodged hat, grinning all the while. Nearby, Feoii stood absolutely still, smiling beatifically at the two of them, with only the frantic quivering of her tail tip revealing the effort it was taking not to fall on the floor and roll around in hysterical laughter. Forestfire met her gaze, and Dzhawn caught the two-eyed wink he gave her.
Oh no. Now she had a partner in crime.
“I, um....” Dzhawn began, and as he paused to clear his throat, Keri lifted his head and looked past him.
“Sirei?” Keri said tentatively. “What do you think?”
Keri’s mate paused on her way across the room, then changed her path to come closer to them. “I think that hat looks adorable on you,” she said, her green eyes twinkling.
“Adorable!” Keri puffed out his chest in outrage, his face fins rising. “I am not-”
Sirei stepped nearer and smooched him on the muzzle.
“-uh.”
“Carry on, dear,” Sirei said serenely as she continued on her way, leaving her mate raising and lowering his fins in baffled confusion.
And so it happened that the chief of the Smokeveil Clan could be seen at the Greenskeeper Gathering, sitting amid the festivities with ponderous dignity and a jaunty red fez, while an equally fezzed mirror dragon squatted by his side, smirking at the passing crowd with tongue-lolling good humor.
Two goobers. With fezzes.
(Written for Greenskeeper Gathering 2015)