storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-12-28 01:04 pm
storypaint) wrote2009-12-28 01:04 pm
Shades of Mostly Grey and Charcoaled Toast (Eclat/Ignis)
Title: Shades of Mostly Grey and Charcoaled Toast
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth in the Shades of Lavender and Green precanon
Length: 917 words
Prompt: n/a
Pairing: slight Eclat/Ignis
Other: SoLaG is![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chibidl's universe. I just play around in it sometimes.
Excerpt: There was a certain sparkle in Eclat's half-lidded annoyance, a deeper tone to Ignis's laughter when he teased, that Clef never recognized until long after the fact.
The relationship between his former mentor and his current one was something Clef never quite understood when he was young. Of course, the mechanics and the concept of flirtation were social ideas that didn't come naturally to him, even when he was older, but even from a more experienced point of view, he thought he might have missed it. There was a certain sparkle in Eclat's half-lidded annoyance, a deeper tone to Ignis's laughter when he teased, that Clef never recognized until long after the fact. Their interactions were full of the subtleties of a friendship born of opposing personalities, crafted around actions that had happened long before Clef was born.
At the time, he felt an odd sense of bewilderment. Eclat was constantly complaining about the Pharle-- his loud voice, his ridiculous jokes, his complete inability to respect anyone else's personal space. And yet, it was a rare week in which Ignis did not visit them, at least once, and generally if no visit occurred, Eclat was more sulky and lazier than usual.
Clef didn't often speak, even after he adjusted to being Eclat's apprentice and felt comfortable in their house. He was simply a quiet, thoughtful person. He asked questions even less (at least, questions that weren't directly job-related; he felt a duty to inquire after any elements of being the Guru that he didn't understand). Eclat had once joked that if Clef saved up money as much as he saved up words, they would call the boy a miser. Still, one afternoon, Clef decided to ask.
"If you don't like the Pharle, then why is he here so much?"
The words were quiet; Clef did not look up from the vegetable he was peeling, but he could feel Eclat's gaze fasten on him from his supervisory capacity across the room. The Guru was uncharacteristically silent for long enough that Clef put down the knife and turned to face him, slightly apprehensive. Eclat looked a little confused, or perhaps thoughtful. He gestured in small circles as he sought for words.
"The Pharle and I have to work very closely for Cephiro's sake," he said finally. "It's important that we get along."
But you don't, Clef didn't point out. Instead, he nodded and turned back to his chopping.
*
The Pharle showed up just in time for dinner, as he often did. Eclat flapped his arms and complained about this tendency and was derailed into an argument about the relative sanitation of cooking on the anvil, which Ignis often did when he was in a hurry.
"It never killed me," Ignis said with one of his barking laughs. "Learned it from the Pharle before me, in fact. Great lady, Mistral. Scariest woman I've ever known. Didn't kill Clef, either, now did it?"
He looked down at his former charge with one of those focused gazes that always made Clef slightly uncomfortable, but this was true, even if Clef had wondered about the relative safety of food in close proximity to molten metal.
"Maybe that's why he's so small," Eclat shot back. Ignis put a hand to his heart as if he'd been wounded, and they just went on from there, arguing around Clef as if they'd forgotten he was there. They were good people, but sometimes they did, meandering off into discussion of people long-dead or stories that were decades old. Ignis wouldn't live as long as someone in Eclat's position would, and Clef wondered briefly who Eclat would share stories with after the Pharle died. Perhaps whoever came next wouldn't be quite so argumentative.
Ignis crossed his arms, and like he so often did when he thought he was winning the current disagreement, shifted to put his feet up on the low table in front of Eclat's couch. Clef was bringing out the plates and so had a full view of the sudden surprise in the Pharle's eyes when he was swiftly bowled over the low back of the couch. Eclat's eyes were half-shut and he looked cat-like in his amusement. He stretched, his limbs long against his favorite chair. Clef paused, uncertain. Ignis emerged from behind the couch, rubbing his head.
"Did you honestly put a force-shield on your table, Guru?"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, I'm afraid, Pharle," Eclat remarked gravely.
Ignis gestured expansively. "Desperate times? Is it that much of an inconvenience for me to be comfortable in your home?"
He sat down on the couch again, and after a moment, leaned forward with his hand in a fist. He met no resistance and knocked it against the table twice. It had apparently been spelled against Ignis's boots in their particulars.
"People eat from that table," Eclat pointed out.
"On plates," Ignis retorted, but then sighed. "Fine. I get the point. Let's have the meal, shall we? Later we can talk about the concussion I have sustained because of your insistence on cleanliness."
Eclat smiled slowly in victory and asked Clef to bring the food. They all ate, but not without conducting two minor disagreements amidst dinner.
Looking back now, Clef thought that he'd never seen his mentor so cheerful and laissez-faire as he was in those days when it was just the three of them, before the mess with Kaitlyn and long before Ignis passed on to the next world. He hadn't realized that happiness could look so different to other people.
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth in the Shades of Lavender and Green precanon
Length: 917 words
Prompt: n/a
Pairing: slight Eclat/Ignis
Other: SoLaG is
chibidl's universe. I just play around in it sometimes.Excerpt: There was a certain sparkle in Eclat's half-lidded annoyance, a deeper tone to Ignis's laughter when he teased, that Clef never recognized until long after the fact.
The relationship between his former mentor and his current one was something Clef never quite understood when he was young. Of course, the mechanics and the concept of flirtation were social ideas that didn't come naturally to him, even when he was older, but even from a more experienced point of view, he thought he might have missed it. There was a certain sparkle in Eclat's half-lidded annoyance, a deeper tone to Ignis's laughter when he teased, that Clef never recognized until long after the fact. Their interactions were full of the subtleties of a friendship born of opposing personalities, crafted around actions that had happened long before Clef was born.
At the time, he felt an odd sense of bewilderment. Eclat was constantly complaining about the Pharle-- his loud voice, his ridiculous jokes, his complete inability to respect anyone else's personal space. And yet, it was a rare week in which Ignis did not visit them, at least once, and generally if no visit occurred, Eclat was more sulky and lazier than usual.
Clef didn't often speak, even after he adjusted to being Eclat's apprentice and felt comfortable in their house. He was simply a quiet, thoughtful person. He asked questions even less (at least, questions that weren't directly job-related; he felt a duty to inquire after any elements of being the Guru that he didn't understand). Eclat had once joked that if Clef saved up money as much as he saved up words, they would call the boy a miser. Still, one afternoon, Clef decided to ask.
"If you don't like the Pharle, then why is he here so much?"
The words were quiet; Clef did not look up from the vegetable he was peeling, but he could feel Eclat's gaze fasten on him from his supervisory capacity across the room. The Guru was uncharacteristically silent for long enough that Clef put down the knife and turned to face him, slightly apprehensive. Eclat looked a little confused, or perhaps thoughtful. He gestured in small circles as he sought for words.
"The Pharle and I have to work very closely for Cephiro's sake," he said finally. "It's important that we get along."
But you don't, Clef didn't point out. Instead, he nodded and turned back to his chopping.
*
The Pharle showed up just in time for dinner, as he often did. Eclat flapped his arms and complained about this tendency and was derailed into an argument about the relative sanitation of cooking on the anvil, which Ignis often did when he was in a hurry.
"It never killed me," Ignis said with one of his barking laughs. "Learned it from the Pharle before me, in fact. Great lady, Mistral. Scariest woman I've ever known. Didn't kill Clef, either, now did it?"
He looked down at his former charge with one of those focused gazes that always made Clef slightly uncomfortable, but this was true, even if Clef had wondered about the relative safety of food in close proximity to molten metal.
"Maybe that's why he's so small," Eclat shot back. Ignis put a hand to his heart as if he'd been wounded, and they just went on from there, arguing around Clef as if they'd forgotten he was there. They were good people, but sometimes they did, meandering off into discussion of people long-dead or stories that were decades old. Ignis wouldn't live as long as someone in Eclat's position would, and Clef wondered briefly who Eclat would share stories with after the Pharle died. Perhaps whoever came next wouldn't be quite so argumentative.
Ignis crossed his arms, and like he so often did when he thought he was winning the current disagreement, shifted to put his feet up on the low table in front of Eclat's couch. Clef was bringing out the plates and so had a full view of the sudden surprise in the Pharle's eyes when he was swiftly bowled over the low back of the couch. Eclat's eyes were half-shut and he looked cat-like in his amusement. He stretched, his limbs long against his favorite chair. Clef paused, uncertain. Ignis emerged from behind the couch, rubbing his head.
"Did you honestly put a force-shield on your table, Guru?"
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, I'm afraid, Pharle," Eclat remarked gravely.
Ignis gestured expansively. "Desperate times? Is it that much of an inconvenience for me to be comfortable in your home?"
He sat down on the couch again, and after a moment, leaned forward with his hand in a fist. He met no resistance and knocked it against the table twice. It had apparently been spelled against Ignis's boots in their particulars.
"People eat from that table," Eclat pointed out.
"On plates," Ignis retorted, but then sighed. "Fine. I get the point. Let's have the meal, shall we? Later we can talk about the concussion I have sustained because of your insistence on cleanliness."
Eclat smiled slowly in victory and asked Clef to bring the food. They all ate, but not without conducting two minor disagreements amidst dinner.
Looking back now, Clef thought that he'd never seen his mentor so cheerful and laissez-faire as he was in those days when it was just the three of them, before the mess with Kaitlyn and long before Ignis passed on to the next world. He hadn't realized that happiness could look so different to other people.