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At the center of Gold Crown Town, the clock-tower is chiming six, and the mechanical dancers are just sliding out of the clock and beginning to spin.

Back at the Academy, the first morning light pushes its way under the curtains of Fakir and Mytho's bedroom, leaving golden lines on the floor, the table, the two beds.

Fakir pushes himself up on his elbow, shakes out his sleep-tangled hair.

Music: Frank Bridge - Valse-intermezzo for strings in E minor, H17


( 10 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 5th, 2009 02:06 am (UTC)
Mytho has been up for... not even he knows how long. Perhaps for a few seconds, perhaps for hours. He's sitting up in his bed staring off at nothing in particular.

His hair is tousled attractively, the way it always is. Sleep doesn't seem to have much of an effect on Mytho's casually elegant appearance.

If he notices Fakir's awakening he gives no sign.
Jun. 5th, 2009 02:29 am (UTC)
Fakir sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. The advanced ballet class assembles for independent practice at 8 AM; that gives Fakir two hours to train with his sword, less the ten minutes it takes him to change his clothes and eat a breakfast roll.

Ah, Mytho's awake. Fakir doesn't say good morning; why should Mytho care what kind of morning it is? Instead, as he pushes a brush briskly through his hair, Fakir says, "I'm going out. Don't leave the room, or talk to anyone, until I get back."

Edited at 2009-06-05 02:30 am (UTC)
Jun. 5th, 2009 03:49 am (UTC)
Mytho's large eyes blink slowly. Not long ago he would have responded with a simple "Yes, Fakir." But this morning he asks instead, "You will come back before class?"
Jun. 5th, 2009 04:43 am (UTC)

Fakir stands up and exchanges his nightshirt for the torn blue shirt he works out in.

"Talk to no one, you understand me? Not Kraehe. Not Rue. Not Princess Tutu. If that idiot Duck throws stones at your window again, ignore her."
Jun. 5th, 2009 04:29 pm (UTC)
Only one name in that list really stands out. Nothing about Mytho's posture or tone changes. "But I want to talk to Tutu."
Jun. 5th, 2009 10:32 pm (UTC)
Halfway through tying his hair back, Fakir goes still.

Damn Princess Tutu. Before she started with the heartshards, Mytho never argued with me.

I could keep him safe, then.

"She doesn't want what's best for you."

Fakir pulls his hair ribbon tight, with quick, jerky, irritated motions.
Jun. 9th, 2009 12:25 am (UTC)
"But I want to talk to Tutu," Mytho repeated in the same mild tone. As if Fakir hadn't said anything at all.
Jun. 9th, 2009 04:56 am (UTC)
Fakir half-raises his hand, then lowers it.

No. I won't hit Mytho again. That would be failure.

"You won't, do you hear me?"
Jun. 9th, 2009 05:16 am (UTC)
Mytho's voice was quiet, not changing at all "I hear you, Fakir."

Which wasn't agreement, but with Mytho it was almost impossible to tell.
Jun. 9th, 2009 05:24 am (UTC)
Fakir, not accustomed to resistance from Mytho, misses the nuance.

"Good. You'd better."

Taking up his practice sword, Fakir stalks out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
( 10 comments — Leave a comment )

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