Emir/Ivan Part 32
Jul. 29th, 2019 09:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
emirandivanFirst posted here
Emir returned to his rooms feeling as though he had lived the day twice over already, though it was only early afternoon. He wanted desperately to rest in a darkened room, but he should speak to Ivan straight away.
He tentatively knocked on their connecting door and receiving no answer, opened it.
Ivan was cross-legged like a school child by the fire, surrounded by manuscripts. His hair was escaping his braid and he had a smudge of ink on his nose.
“Oh hello,” he said, looking up. “I thought as you were working so hard this morning, I ought to do the same. I have been sent these scripts to review for the cultural programme - I would very much like your opinion.”
“Of course,” Emir said, sitting in a chair near to him.
“Did you want me particularly for something?” Ivan said, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
“Um, yes,” Emir said. “Ivan, there may be some gossip about to do the rounds about me. Please do ignore it, it is absolutely not as they say.”
Ivan looked up at him quickly. “I haven’t heard anything yet. What do the rumours say?”
“A friend of mine embraced me publicly. Not...I mean to say, it was little more than a greeting, but I know what Court is like,” Emir said, feeling his face heat.
“I see,” Ivan said. He went quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Then by the time I hear of it, you’ll have had him just outside the Marble Room to a round of applause.”
“Gods Ivan,” Emir spluttered, feeling even hotter. “I cannot imagine people would think me capable!”
“You’d be very surprised what some people think,” Ivan teased, then stopped when Emir covered his face and groaned.
“Everyone is confined by the weather and there is no distraction but gossip. A show of solidarity would quell the idle tongues, perhaps?” Ivan said. He sat up. “The new Theatre Royal opens tonight, and one of the family must be seen to attend. Mother can’t bear it, Peter has refused and Mikhail has a cold, so keeping me in close quarters here has been forgotten about. I’d be very pleased if you’d come with me.”
The thought of being on public display was still a source of horror to Emir. He had never been to a public theatre before - plays were always performed for his family in their own Palace. But the jabs from Peter that morning about his marriage coupled with Kanat’s careless remarks about Ivan’s affair had made him wonder. A marriage - especially a State one - involved duty just as anything else. He had not been doing a very good job of that at all.
“I would like that very much,” he said, and Ivan’s eyes brightened.
“I do hope it will cheer you up. I think the play may cause a sensation - the playwright is a revolutionary in exile from Lapointe. She’s a very intense young woman.”
“Really?” Emir said, apprehensively. “What is it about?”
“I was invited to a rehearsal but I must admit I couldn’t make head or tail of it,” Ivan said cheerfully. “There was a lot of shouting, and an interpretive dance, and a man playing the same note over and over again on a harp. Anyway, it really doesn’t matter - Adric and Pasha are coming, and they make everything fun.”
“That does sound nice,” Emir said, leaning back in the chair and closing his eye.
“Was the meeting dreadful?” Ivan said. “Of course it was; Peter was there. But apart from that.”
“Things are in a worrisome state,” Emir admitted, deciding he couldn’t quite face bringing up the detail of Peter’s remarks. “I cannot see a way to agree a treaty currently. Perhaps you can tell me more about the Ministers who were present.”
“Very well, but have you eaten? I haven’t and I’m ravenous. Let’s ask for those little pancakes you love and some tea and I’ll tell you every sordid detail I know about every last one of them,” Ivan said, getting to his feet.
Ivan was true to his word and Emir stood up from their small meal feeling much better about everything.
“Thank you so much,” he said to Ivan.
“I enjoyed it,” Ivan said simply. “Now we’ll dine early because of the theatre so don’t forget. And tell Anna! She’ll want to dress you up.”
They had a riotous dinner with Adric and Pasha before they set off, with Pasha serving some new cocktail he’d invented which he claimed was hardly potent at all - “Trust me, it’s practically sugar water” - before they were called down to the carriage. The journey was quite short but heavily guarded. There would be no chance of Ivan slipping away to anywhere more bohemian tonight.
The new theatre had been built at huge expense in the latest style on the foundations of the previous one, which had burnt down some months before. Ivan looked up at the eggshell blue of the walls and the elegant white columns with delight. It looked to Emir like a confection made from sugar.
Inside the grandeur continued. The ceilings soared as high as any in the Imperial Palace, scenes from famous dramas painted all around the walls. Everything was marble and velvet and gleaming brass. This theatre, they were assured, had many safety features and all the candles were attended to very closely.
Emir decided he didn’t really want to think about it. But it was all so strangely empty.
“Where is everyone else?” he whispered to Ivan. “Is the performance for us alone?”
“They’ll already be seated,” Ivan whispered back. “We must make a grand entrance I’m afraid.”
Emir followed Ivan in silence up a small flight of stairs, not wanting to expose his ignorance with any more silly questions. They were escorted to a narrow door, the Queen’s monogram painted on it in gold. Emir could still smell the freshness of the paint.
Following Ivan through it, the sight of the whole theatre laid out beneath him made him catch his breath.
Hundreds upon hundreds of people were seated there, row after row of them. The low buzz of their chatter and laughter blended with the sound of the orchestra tuning up and heightened the sense of anticipation. But bit by bit the chatter began to die and heads turned towards them. There was a prolonged rustling as everyone stood and looked towards the royal box. Ivan took hold of Emir’s hand. The orchestra struck up the national anthem - Ivan was allotted a few bars of it as youngest son. Emir stood very still, heart thudding, feeling Ivan’s cool fingers tighten around his.
The music ended and their ordeal over, Ivan sat, and Emir followed suit.
The orchestra began to play a strange, atonal overture which made Adric groan and Pasha hush him. Emir could feel the eyes of the whole dress circle upon them still.
“I believe we shall have to be a little attentive towards each other,” Ivan whispered to Emir, so close to his ear it sent a shiver through him. “Shall we play the part?”
“Well I can attempt it,” Emir said with a sigh. “Though you might have made a little more effort to look appealing.”
Ivan laughed softly, his eyes lighting up. He must know, of course, how becoming he looked tonight. His hair was loose, hanging in soft waves around his face, and someone had dressed it with a circlet of tiny pearls. His pale grey jacket was fastened with more pearls at his slender wrists and throat. Emir imagined how delightful it might be to unfasten each one, to do it slowly, interspersed with kisses.
“I’m afraid my finery pales in comparison to yours,” Ivan said, putting his hand on Emir’s arm.
Emir did look very different to the more subtle Eresenians, wearing yellow silk with a wide Samatran style sash of burnt orange at the waist, and a long pendant of pearls and emeralds around his neck. And this was nothing at all. Emir imagined the delight Ivan would take in being dressed as the finest Samatran prince there ever was, heaped with ropes of diamonds and sapphires around his throat, a great jewelled sword, and fingers heavy with rings.
Emir covered Ivan’s hand with his own, the play-acting emboldening him. “Then I must send for some Samatran finery for you,” he said. “Nothing would delight my mother more.”
“I would like that very much,” Ivan said, looking up at him with a sweet smile. Emir traced a finger gently over Ivan’s knuckles.
“A true Prince of Samatra would have a ring on every finger,” he said softly as he touched each one. “Great rubies and diamonds so heavy you could barely lift your hand to have it kissed.”
“Why don’t you wear that?” Ivan said.
“Does my great beauty need such embellishment?” Emir asked teasingly.
Ivan shook his head, serious suddenly. “No," he said, his lovely grey eyes fixed upon Emir's face. "You don’t need any embellishment at all.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, Emir not sure what to say. The overtune ended at that moment in a cacophony of clashing notes, and they turned to see the curtain beginning to rise.
“We’re off,” whispered Ivan.
Part 33
Emir returned to his rooms feeling as though he had lived the day twice over already, though it was only early afternoon. He wanted desperately to rest in a darkened room, but he should speak to Ivan straight away.
He tentatively knocked on their connecting door and receiving no answer, opened it.
Ivan was cross-legged like a school child by the fire, surrounded by manuscripts. His hair was escaping his braid and he had a smudge of ink on his nose.
“Oh hello,” he said, looking up. “I thought as you were working so hard this morning, I ought to do the same. I have been sent these scripts to review for the cultural programme - I would very much like your opinion.”
“Of course,” Emir said, sitting in a chair near to him.
“Did you want me particularly for something?” Ivan said, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
“Um, yes,” Emir said. “Ivan, there may be some gossip about to do the rounds about me. Please do ignore it, it is absolutely not as they say.”
Ivan looked up at him quickly. “I haven’t heard anything yet. What do the rumours say?”
“A friend of mine embraced me publicly. Not...I mean to say, it was little more than a greeting, but I know what Court is like,” Emir said, feeling his face heat.
“I see,” Ivan said. He went quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Then by the time I hear of it, you’ll have had him just outside the Marble Room to a round of applause.”
“Gods Ivan,” Emir spluttered, feeling even hotter. “I cannot imagine people would think me capable!”
“You’d be very surprised what some people think,” Ivan teased, then stopped when Emir covered his face and groaned.
“Everyone is confined by the weather and there is no distraction but gossip. A show of solidarity would quell the idle tongues, perhaps?” Ivan said. He sat up. “The new Theatre Royal opens tonight, and one of the family must be seen to attend. Mother can’t bear it, Peter has refused and Mikhail has a cold, so keeping me in close quarters here has been forgotten about. I’d be very pleased if you’d come with me.”
The thought of being on public display was still a source of horror to Emir. He had never been to a public theatre before - plays were always performed for his family in their own Palace. But the jabs from Peter that morning about his marriage coupled with Kanat’s careless remarks about Ivan’s affair had made him wonder. A marriage - especially a State one - involved duty just as anything else. He had not been doing a very good job of that at all.
“I would like that very much,” he said, and Ivan’s eyes brightened.
“I do hope it will cheer you up. I think the play may cause a sensation - the playwright is a revolutionary in exile from Lapointe. She’s a very intense young woman.”
“Really?” Emir said, apprehensively. “What is it about?”
“I was invited to a rehearsal but I must admit I couldn’t make head or tail of it,” Ivan said cheerfully. “There was a lot of shouting, and an interpretive dance, and a man playing the same note over and over again on a harp. Anyway, it really doesn’t matter - Adric and Pasha are coming, and they make everything fun.”
“That does sound nice,” Emir said, leaning back in the chair and closing his eye.
“Was the meeting dreadful?” Ivan said. “Of course it was; Peter was there. But apart from that.”
“Things are in a worrisome state,” Emir admitted, deciding he couldn’t quite face bringing up the detail of Peter’s remarks. “I cannot see a way to agree a treaty currently. Perhaps you can tell me more about the Ministers who were present.”
“Very well, but have you eaten? I haven’t and I’m ravenous. Let’s ask for those little pancakes you love and some tea and I’ll tell you every sordid detail I know about every last one of them,” Ivan said, getting to his feet.
Ivan was true to his word and Emir stood up from their small meal feeling much better about everything.
“Thank you so much,” he said to Ivan.
“I enjoyed it,” Ivan said simply. “Now we’ll dine early because of the theatre so don’t forget. And tell Anna! She’ll want to dress you up.”
They had a riotous dinner with Adric and Pasha before they set off, with Pasha serving some new cocktail he’d invented which he claimed was hardly potent at all - “Trust me, it’s practically sugar water” - before they were called down to the carriage. The journey was quite short but heavily guarded. There would be no chance of Ivan slipping away to anywhere more bohemian tonight.
The new theatre had been built at huge expense in the latest style on the foundations of the previous one, which had burnt down some months before. Ivan looked up at the eggshell blue of the walls and the elegant white columns with delight. It looked to Emir like a confection made from sugar.
Inside the grandeur continued. The ceilings soared as high as any in the Imperial Palace, scenes from famous dramas painted all around the walls. Everything was marble and velvet and gleaming brass. This theatre, they were assured, had many safety features and all the candles were attended to very closely.
Emir decided he didn’t really want to think about it. But it was all so strangely empty.
“Where is everyone else?” he whispered to Ivan. “Is the performance for us alone?”
“They’ll already be seated,” Ivan whispered back. “We must make a grand entrance I’m afraid.”
Emir followed Ivan in silence up a small flight of stairs, not wanting to expose his ignorance with any more silly questions. They were escorted to a narrow door, the Queen’s monogram painted on it in gold. Emir could still smell the freshness of the paint.
Following Ivan through it, the sight of the whole theatre laid out beneath him made him catch his breath.
Hundreds upon hundreds of people were seated there, row after row of them. The low buzz of their chatter and laughter blended with the sound of the orchestra tuning up and heightened the sense of anticipation. But bit by bit the chatter began to die and heads turned towards them. There was a prolonged rustling as everyone stood and looked towards the royal box. Ivan took hold of Emir’s hand. The orchestra struck up the national anthem - Ivan was allotted a few bars of it as youngest son. Emir stood very still, heart thudding, feeling Ivan’s cool fingers tighten around his.
The music ended and their ordeal over, Ivan sat, and Emir followed suit.
The orchestra began to play a strange, atonal overture which made Adric groan and Pasha hush him. Emir could feel the eyes of the whole dress circle upon them still.
“I believe we shall have to be a little attentive towards each other,” Ivan whispered to Emir, so close to his ear it sent a shiver through him. “Shall we play the part?”
“Well I can attempt it,” Emir said with a sigh. “Though you might have made a little more effort to look appealing.”
Ivan laughed softly, his eyes lighting up. He must know, of course, how becoming he looked tonight. His hair was loose, hanging in soft waves around his face, and someone had dressed it with a circlet of tiny pearls. His pale grey jacket was fastened with more pearls at his slender wrists and throat. Emir imagined how delightful it might be to unfasten each one, to do it slowly, interspersed with kisses.
“I’m afraid my finery pales in comparison to yours,” Ivan said, putting his hand on Emir’s arm.
Emir did look very different to the more subtle Eresenians, wearing yellow silk with a wide Samatran style sash of burnt orange at the waist, and a long pendant of pearls and emeralds around his neck. And this was nothing at all. Emir imagined the delight Ivan would take in being dressed as the finest Samatran prince there ever was, heaped with ropes of diamonds and sapphires around his throat, a great jewelled sword, and fingers heavy with rings.
Emir covered Ivan’s hand with his own, the play-acting emboldening him. “Then I must send for some Samatran finery for you,” he said. “Nothing would delight my mother more.”
“I would like that very much,” Ivan said, looking up at him with a sweet smile. Emir traced a finger gently over Ivan’s knuckles.
“A true Prince of Samatra would have a ring on every finger,” he said softly as he touched each one. “Great rubies and diamonds so heavy you could barely lift your hand to have it kissed.”
“Why don’t you wear that?” Ivan said.
“Does my great beauty need such embellishment?” Emir asked teasingly.
Ivan shook his head, serious suddenly. “No," he said, his lovely grey eyes fixed upon Emir's face. "You don’t need any embellishment at all.”
They looked at each other for a long moment, Emir not sure what to say. The overtune ended at that moment in a cacophony of clashing notes, and they turned to see the curtain beginning to rise.
“We’re off,” whispered Ivan.
Part 33
no subject
Date: 2019-07-29 09:29 pm (UTC)Aaaaaahhhhh.
Guys, you really should just drop the act, there's no need to pretend when all of this is genuine!! :D (Oh, these two. SIGH.)
no subject
Date: 2019-07-31 11:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-29 11:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-31 11:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-07-30 03:23 pm (UTC)Emir, however, gets the highest score in this installment for making sure that Ivan heard about the scene with Kanat from him first. Such talking, very communication, wow, MAYBE YOU SHOULD DO IT MORE OFTEN.
(Can I add that I am hella impressed with the construction schedules in fantasyland? The new theatre opening just months after the old one burned down!)
no subject
Date: 2019-07-31 11:27 am (UTC)Haha, yes you'll just have to handwave the construction schedule there...
no subject
Date: 2019-11-10 08:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-11-11 11:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-04 01:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-04 01:37 pm (UTC)