"Probably knightly," Six admits, thoughtful. "Tall, perhaps not the wisest but good enough all the same, with some kind of intelligence. Handsome, too."
All the stereotypes of people that are said to be heroic and gentle. Six doesn't know why those people get those things from - there's a level of frustration that colours her now as she thinks about her, thoughtful and considering, frowning. Being a knight does not make one good, but...
She was devoted to it. She thinks she would like to be heroic.
"Dare I ask that there is tension between these heirs?"
"Of course, they're brothers." As blithely as though he has the first idea what that means, "But for someone so tall, and intelligent, and handsome —"
He keeps his brows from lifting, disguises any skepticism that might creep loose.
"— He'll always be younger than them. He's overlooked. Never expected to inherit, and that doesn't change when the king tears up all the rules for that sort of thing, and declares a contest instead. To the void with this age-based nonsense: He's got a better idea."
"See, there are palace gardens. Splendid ones, full of," Isaac could name most ornamental and herbal plants in the South, but there's no comedy in that. He deliberates, "Plants. And they're dreadfully charming and expensive, so the king likes to spend his evenings there. But something's been disturbing his peace — you recall the story's title."
Overlooked - Six can only wish that had been the case for her when she was younger. It's still obvious that she finds it rather difficult to look over in Isaac's direction; he looks too close, too similar, so that out of the corner of her eye is an image enough to have her panicked if she isn't careful.
She is trying to be careful.
"A firebird." That, at least, is obvious enough. "Which has been irritating the king. What is to be done about it?"
"Well, they can't roast it." The fire. "Or pluck it for a pillow, which leaves only the cage."
"Each of the princes promises in turn that they'll be the ones to catch the bird. But it comes very late at night, singing the most melodious lullabyes, and one after the other they fall straight asleep."
"The youngest prince hatches a plan. He ties a string to his finger," Alright. He's starting to forget how any of this goes. Where was the bit about the fruit? "And the other to the door of a cage. When he nods off for the music, his hand will fall and —"
Wouldn't lulling the king to sleep be a good thing? Why did he pick a story he's last heard maybe thirty years ago?
"Well, that's not important. The string doesn't work either, but it does startle our hero awake. Enough to spot it flying off in the direction of a rival kingdom."
Six isn't sure if there's meant to be a point to this story. Sometimes she has heard tell of stories where there is some kind of moral or some message to be learned and adapted - not from her father, nor her absent mother, but from some of the women who washed clothes by the rivers and the soldiers who fought at her side.
Slowly, she leans forward to stroke down and along her steed's head, gentle and soft as she rubs at it's flank. At least this she can survive; riding is second nature.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
All the stereotypes of people that are said to be heroic and gentle. Six doesn't know why those people get those things from - there's a level of frustration that colours her now as she thinks about her, thoughtful and considering, frowning. Being a knight does not make one good, but...
She was devoted to it. She thinks she would like to be heroic.
"Dare I ask that there is tension between these heirs?"
no subject
"Of course, they're brothers." As blithely as though he has the first idea what that means, "But for someone so tall, and intelligent, and handsome —"
He keeps his brows from lifting, disguises any skepticism that might creep loose.
"— He'll always be younger than them. He's overlooked. Never expected to inherit, and that doesn't change when the king tears up all the rules for that sort of thing, and declares a contest instead. To the void with this age-based nonsense: He's got a better idea."
"See, there are palace gardens. Splendid ones, full of," Isaac could name most ornamental and herbal plants in the South, but there's no comedy in that. He deliberates, "Plants. And they're dreadfully charming and expensive, so the king likes to spend his evenings there. But something's been disturbing his peace — you recall the story's title."
no subject
Overlooked - Six can only wish that had been the case for her when she was younger. It's still obvious that she finds it rather difficult to look over in Isaac's direction; he looks too close, too similar, so that out of the corner of her eye is an image enough to have her panicked if she isn't careful.
She is trying to be careful.
"A firebird." That, at least, is obvious enough. "Which has been irritating the king. What is to be done about it?"
no subject
"Each of the princes promises in turn that they'll be the ones to catch the bird. But it comes very late at night, singing the most melodious lullabyes, and one after the other they fall straight asleep."
"The youngest prince hatches a plan. He ties a string to his finger," Alright. He's starting to forget how any of this goes. Where was the bit about the fruit? "And the other to the door of a cage. When he nods off for the music, his hand will fall and —"
Wouldn't lulling the king to sleep be a good thing? Why did he pick a story he's last heard maybe thirty years ago?
"Well, that's not important. The string doesn't work either, but it does startle our hero awake. Enough to spot it flying off in the direction of a rival kingdom."
no subject
Six isn't sure if there's meant to be a point to this story. Sometimes she has heard tell of stories where there is some kind of moral or some message to be learned and adapted - not from her father, nor her absent mother, but from some of the women who washed clothes by the rivers and the soldiers who fought at her side.
Slowly, she leans forward to stroke down and along her steed's head, gentle and soft as she rubs at it's flank. At least this she can survive; riding is second nature.
"Even with the prince's careful... Plans."