fighting_mad | [OOM] Eiattu - Royal Apartments

[OOM] Eiattu - Royal Apartments

There isn't much to move from the temporary quarters the royal couple had been sharing. Just a few boxes, a few bags. It only took Rial and Plourr two trips. The servants could have easily done it, but Plourr doesn't mind the work; it's only a few hours that she's been out of the infirmary, and she relishes in being able to do things for herself again.

She glances around to be sure that Rial isn't in the room--the warm, comfortable sitting room, decorated simply in creams and golds and yellows--and she eases herself down onto a box to catch her breath. He worries so when really, she's fine. Settling the sling more comfortably around her neck--a few more weeks, she reminds herself, only a few more weeks--her eyes fall on a box beside her foot. She leans forward and tugs it toward her, pulling open the flap.

Her smile flutters, quick and startled, as she sees what is inside; she carefully pulls out something lumpy and wrapped in linen and an old tunic (for purposes of camoflauge), and she peels back a corner of fabric and peers inside. Whatever she sees satisfies her, and she sets the small package on her knees.

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"Am not," Rial protests, but he opens it obediently.

Paintbrushes, all beautifully made and some of the best Rial has ever seen, tubes of paint and the labels are all of colors that he can't remember ever seeing before.

He doesn't say anything, just stares.

"I thought, from what I remembered from throwing your brushes, they looked old. I saw these at a market on this tiny planet we stopped to refuel on; it was a world of artisans and the species had -- color-receptors or something that allow them to see and create shades that humanoids normally can't." She speaks calmly, manner easy, but she's watching him closely and her hand rubs the back of her neck incessantly; a sure sign of nerves. "I didn't think you had any of those." Plourr may tease and Plourr may not understand art, but she pays more attention to Rial and his painting than she makes it seem.

"They're gorgeous." He strokes the brushes, the smooth wood, glances at the curious tubes of paint. "I can't - I really can't thank you enough, Plourr, I hadn't even imagined..."

Her hand falls away from her neck and she smiles, small and enormously pleased. "Happy anniversary."

A moment passes and then, because she can't ever leave well enough alone, still alight with triumph (he likes them): "You hadn't even imagined what?"

Rial glances up from inspecting the paint, and shrugs. "That you paid that much attention to me, to my hobbies."

Her smile slips. "Well," she says. "I do."

...oops. "No, I'm sorry, that was tactless. I love it, Plourr, it's a wonderful gift. Thank you so much."

"You're welcome."

She keeps her mouth shut a whole six seconds before the words come boiling out.

"Of course I pay that much attention to you and what you like to do. I love you, you idiot."

"I know, I know."

He comes forward to kiss her gently.

"I am an idiot for not seeing it, hmm?"

She curves her hand under his jaw and is more than happy to return the kiss when he bends down. "Nah, 'idiot' is too harsh," she tells him. " 'Just a little stupid sometimes' would be more accurate." Her fond eyes say, quite loudly, that she doesn't mean it.

She shifts her attention to the art supplies still in his hand. "You do like them? If you don't, I can always return them and get a deal on that bantha."

"You're too kind," he says, and beams at her. "Of course I like them! You can get the bantha for my birthday, or something."

And then, standing, "But I'm sure I have something for you, somewhere."

Her answering smile isn't sardonic. It isn't sarcastic or smirky or fierce. It is quiet and it is radiant, and she doesn't need to say a thing.

Til she opens her mouth shortly afterward. "Liar," she sings out again, grinning.

Oh, Rial is hurt, he really is. "I mean it! I got it a month before the aniiversary so I wouldn't forget, and hid it so you wouldn't find it."

"Uh huh. I'll believe it when I see it, flyboy."

"You," says Rial, straightening up and heading through into the bedroom, "just wait."

"I won't hold my breath," Plourr calls after him. She hops off the box she's been sitting on--making a sour face at the dent in the top that is the size of her ass--and, sitting on her knees, pulls open the flaps and paws through its contents. It looks like toiletries, mostly, though--

"Hey." She pulls a midsized blaster pistol out of the box, checking the power pack and power levels. So that's where that went.

Rial, on the other hand, goes into the bedroom and starts rummaging around. Evidently not finding what he's looking for, he crosses into the 'fresher.

After a few minutes, he emerges, triumphant, waving a bottle of shaving cream.

Plourr raises an eyebrow very, very eloquently.

"This isn't," says Rial, taking a seat on the florr to pry at the top of the bottle, "what it looks like. Honestly."

Top off, he plunges his hand into it, and with a very intent look on his face, rummages around.

Plourr watches him a long moment, expression unreadable.

Plourr bursts out laughing.

Rial stops what he's doing to stick his tongue out at her, then continues on his assault of the bottle.

A minute later, he draws his hand out, grinning triumphantly, something small held between his index finger and thumb. "There!"

"Did you really think you needed to hide it that thoroughly? What was I going to do, go searching?" she asks, but her eyes are, it should be said, trained on the small object covered in shaving cream.

"You might have," he retorts, and uses the edge of his tunic to clean the object off.

Something gleams gold.

"It's not wrapped," he says awkwardly, handing it over "but I guess - yeah."

She holds out her hand, palm up, and the thing falls into it.

"I don't mi--"

It's a ring.

It's a simple, smooth, gold ring, and her breath stutters once. Rings may not be an Eiatti wedding tradition, but Plourr has spent most of her life off-world.

She looks up at him quickly, then back at the ring in her hand, and that's when she notices the engraving on the inside of the band.

'Yours.'

A quiet, choked breath of laughter escapes her and she stares at the ring a moment longer before shaking herself and holding it out to Rial. "Oh, Rial, would you...?"

"I'd be glad too, my princess." He takes it back, fumbling slightly with shaving-cream-covered fingers, and takes her hand with his free one. He hesitates, just for a momeny, and glances up. "I love you, you know."

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