Destiny (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2013-07-10 07:59 pm
leia_solo) wrote in rainbowfic2013-07-10 07:59 pm
Entry tags:
Paprika 5 + Canvas: We Should Be Lovers
Name: Destiny
Story: The Mondian Chronicles (Archive/Index/Timelines)
Title: We Should Be Lovers
Timeline: 737 AW
Colors: Paprika 5: First bite whet my appetite--second helping's always better
Supplies and Styles: Canvas (400 years before current time)
Word Count: 473
Summary: Michel meets with Anastasie. He wants to talk. She's not in the business of talking.
Rating: PG for mentions of sex workers.
Warnings: See above
Notes: Michel is about 17 in this. His father, the senior Michel has been dead for about seven years. His mother, Anne, died at his birth. He has been raised by his grandfather, Claude, and his paternal grandmother, Madeline.
“So you’re back?”
Michel held back a grin. He watched her recline. She was so beautiful.
“How can I help you?” Anastasie said pulling a light robe around her.
Michel stepped forward. “I wanted to talk.”
Anastasie laughed. “I’m not in the business of talking, young prince.”
Michel pulled out heavy coins. “I can pay you.”
Anastasie looked down at the money before looking back to Michel.
“You want to pay me…to talk to you?”
“Well we can do other things-.”
Anastasie laughed at that.
“But yes I would like to talk.”
Anastasie patted the settee beside her. Michel came forward and sat down.
“Why can’t you talk to one of your little ladies, young prince?”
Michel rubbed his chin absentmindedly. “They…they only care about my title.”
Anastasie leaned towards him. “And you think I don’t care about your title?”
Michel grinned. “Somewhat.”
They laughed.
“You remind me of my brother,” Anstasie said suddenly.
“You have a brother?” Michel asked interestedly.
Anastasie smiled sadly. “I had a brother. He died some time ago.”
Michel nodded. “Both my parents are dead.”
“So are mine,” she said.
“Something we have in common,” Michel said.
“We don’t have much in common, young prince. You are in the prime of your life. I’m old and nearing the end of my working years.”
“How old are you?”
Anastasie laughed. “It’s not nice to ask a woman her age, young prince.”
Michel raised an eyebrow.
She grinned again. “I’m seven and twenty.”
“But that’s not old at all!”
“For a woman in my position, it is very old. Customers want the younger girls.”
“Well they are asses,” Michel said touching her shoulder.
“Yes they are, but they have the money.”
“I have money,” Michel said.
“Yes you do, young prince.”
“If…”
“If what?”
Michel turned to her. He took her hands in his.
“Become my mistress.”
Anastasie chuckled.
“What do you know of mistresses? You are barely out of the schoolroom.”
“I know enough. All men of standing have mistresses. I should have one.”
Anastasie patted his blond head.
“Find yourself someone else, young prince.”
She stood.
“But why?” Michel asked confused.
Anastasie gathered up the coins on the table.
“The role of mistress doesn’t suit me. I’ll take my lovers as I please.”
Michel stood as she began to walk towards the door.
“I want to be your lover,” he said softly.
Anastasie opened the door. “You want me to be your mother, young prince.”
Michel recoiled.
“I’d like you to leave now.”
Michel stumbled towards the door. He stopped before her.
“Can I see you again?”
Anastasie smiled slightly.
“Come back to me when you’ve dealt with your own issues, young prince. I sell sex, not emotion.”
She shut the door in his face leaving Michel standing on the other side listening to the sounds of lovers.
Story: The Mondian Chronicles (Archive/Index/Timelines)
Title: We Should Be Lovers
Timeline: 737 AW
Colors: Paprika 5: First bite whet my appetite--second helping's always better
Supplies and Styles: Canvas (400 years before current time)
Word Count: 473
Summary: Michel meets with Anastasie. He wants to talk. She's not in the business of talking.
Rating: PG for mentions of sex workers.
Warnings: See above
Notes: Michel is about 17 in this. His father, the senior Michel has been dead for about seven years. His mother, Anne, died at his birth. He has been raised by his grandfather, Claude, and his paternal grandmother, Madeline.
“So you’re back?”
Michel held back a grin. He watched her recline. She was so beautiful.
“How can I help you?” Anastasie said pulling a light robe around her.
Michel stepped forward. “I wanted to talk.”
Anastasie laughed. “I’m not in the business of talking, young prince.”
Michel pulled out heavy coins. “I can pay you.”
Anastasie looked down at the money before looking back to Michel.
“You want to pay me…to talk to you?”
“Well we can do other things-.”
Anastasie laughed at that.
“But yes I would like to talk.”
Anastasie patted the settee beside her. Michel came forward and sat down.
“Why can’t you talk to one of your little ladies, young prince?”
Michel rubbed his chin absentmindedly. “They…they only care about my title.”
Anastasie leaned towards him. “And you think I don’t care about your title?”
Michel grinned. “Somewhat.”
They laughed.
“You remind me of my brother,” Anstasie said suddenly.
“You have a brother?” Michel asked interestedly.
Anastasie smiled sadly. “I had a brother. He died some time ago.”
Michel nodded. “Both my parents are dead.”
“So are mine,” she said.
“Something we have in common,” Michel said.
“We don’t have much in common, young prince. You are in the prime of your life. I’m old and nearing the end of my working years.”
“How old are you?”
Anastasie laughed. “It’s not nice to ask a woman her age, young prince.”
Michel raised an eyebrow.
She grinned again. “I’m seven and twenty.”
“But that’s not old at all!”
“For a woman in my position, it is very old. Customers want the younger girls.”
“Well they are asses,” Michel said touching her shoulder.
“Yes they are, but they have the money.”
“I have money,” Michel said.
“Yes you do, young prince.”
“If…”
“If what?”
Michel turned to her. He took her hands in his.
“Become my mistress.”
Anastasie chuckled.
“What do you know of mistresses? You are barely out of the schoolroom.”
“I know enough. All men of standing have mistresses. I should have one.”
Anastasie patted his blond head.
“Find yourself someone else, young prince.”
She stood.
“But why?” Michel asked confused.
Anastasie gathered up the coins on the table.
“The role of mistress doesn’t suit me. I’ll take my lovers as I please.”
Michel stood as she began to walk towards the door.
“I want to be your lover,” he said softly.
Anastasie opened the door. “You want me to be your mother, young prince.”
Michel recoiled.
“I’d like you to leave now.”
Michel stumbled towards the door. He stopped before her.
“Can I see you again?”
Anastasie smiled slightly.
“Come back to me when you’ve dealt with your own issues, young prince. I sell sex, not emotion.”
She shut the door in his face leaving Michel standing on the other side listening to the sounds of lovers.
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Thank you for reading!
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Thanks for reading! :D