Guest House
Mar. 8th, 2026 04:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shinonFandom: The Claidi Journals - Tanith Lee
Characters: Hrald/Yazkool
Word count: 500
Warnings: None
Notes: I ended up getting assigned 17776 for Yuletide and that worked out fine, but I had been secretly hoping to get assigned to write Weird Yuri about the Claidi Journals (Ironel/Claidi? Ustareth/Claidi???). I re-bought all four books so I could reread them for this purpose. Well, I ended up not needing to reread them for Yuletide, and now that I am getting around to them on my own time, it struck me, "I want to write a DIFFERENT Weird Yuri (Winter/Claidi) than what that person was requesting,"
and then instead of that the first fic that actually occurred to me was stupid comedy-relief villainous henchman slash,
They were both drunk, of course, but Yazkool was, of course, drunker. Yazkool hadn’t followed Claidissa’s bold and ingenious practice of mixing tea into the wine. Hrald had, and had experienced its modestly sobering effects, even if it tasted a bit, how to put it?, bad. Hrald had also walked off a bit of the buzz on Lavender Hill having a chat with fashion plate Ngarbo, while Yaz sat and kept trying to flirt with Claidissa – which didn’t seem likely to go anywhere, since he hadn’t even tried her fabulous drink and couldn’t flatter her about it. Glamorous ladies wanted you to praise their projects. They always had projects, like crocodile breeding or a new wig powder.
There was a third reason Yazkool was worse off than Hrald, but Hrald had forgotten it.
“I think I kissed her,” Yazkool was saying, sprawled on their guest house couch, blinking a lot, “but I might have missed. And I keep finding leaves in my teeth.”
Hrald stood over him grinning and, now that he thought about it, practically sober. “You kissed” – grand pause – “an arbor.” He’d just remembered the third thing, which was that Yazkool had a weak constitution. Hrald was much tougher stuff. He fumbled around in his pockets for his beetle case, but it didn’t seem to be in any of the places where he could’ve left it.
“An arbor…” Yaz looked thoughtful. He didn’t look thoughtful very often. Maybe it was a look he ought to try on more girls. He found his own beetle box and lit up, putting his feet on the arm of the sofa.
“They don’t like you smoking in here,” said Hrald, mostly because he didn’t seem to have anything to smoke himself.
“What’ll they do?” Yaz blew a smoke ring at him. “Let us leave?”
Hrald laughed, and Yaz laughed too, and neither of them stopped. Hrald shoved Yaz’s feet off the sofa to make him turn and make room, although Yaz (drunk) didn’t get the hint right away. But eventually they were both installed, shoulder to shoulder and almost crying laughing.
“How long have we been here?” said Hrald, wheezing.
Yazkool was trying to hold his beetle in an elegant pose and safely away from burning the upholstery, but with his other hand he pounded Hrald inaccurately on the back. “Long enough to run out of girls and start courting plants, eh? Eh?”
More laughter, sort of insane, getting painful. “All right, give us a smoke, Yaz.”
That thoughtful look again. “I might.”
“Might you?”
“Someone ought to kiss me tonight. My hair looks so good.”
“I know, I helped you color it. Wasn’t the arbor nice enough for you?”
“Oh, she was very nice, very giving,” said Yaz, and started laughing again. But he didn’t give up his beetle and he didn’t reach to get Hrald another one.
“Oh, all right,” said Hrald, rolling his eyes. He leaned in. They’d been here for months, anyway – it wouldn’t be the first time.
Characters: Hrald/Yazkool
Word count: 500
Warnings: None
Notes: I ended up getting assigned 17776 for Yuletide and that worked out fine, but I had been secretly hoping to get assigned to write Weird Yuri about the Claidi Journals (Ironel/Claidi? Ustareth/Claidi???). I re-bought all four books so I could reread them for this purpose. Well, I ended up not needing to reread them for Yuletide, and now that I am getting around to them on my own time, it struck me, "I want to write a DIFFERENT Weird Yuri (Winter/Claidi) than what that person was requesting,"
and then instead of that the first fic that actually occurred to me was stupid comedy-relief villainous henchman slash,
They were both drunk, of course, but Yazkool was, of course, drunker. Yazkool hadn’t followed Claidissa’s bold and ingenious practice of mixing tea into the wine. Hrald had, and had experienced its modestly sobering effects, even if it tasted a bit, how to put it?, bad. Hrald had also walked off a bit of the buzz on Lavender Hill having a chat with fashion plate Ngarbo, while Yaz sat and kept trying to flirt with Claidissa – which didn’t seem likely to go anywhere, since he hadn’t even tried her fabulous drink and couldn’t flatter her about it. Glamorous ladies wanted you to praise their projects. They always had projects, like crocodile breeding or a new wig powder.
There was a third reason Yazkool was worse off than Hrald, but Hrald had forgotten it.
“I think I kissed her,” Yazkool was saying, sprawled on their guest house couch, blinking a lot, “but I might have missed. And I keep finding leaves in my teeth.”
Hrald stood over him grinning and, now that he thought about it, practically sober. “You kissed” – grand pause – “an arbor.” He’d just remembered the third thing, which was that Yazkool had a weak constitution. Hrald was much tougher stuff. He fumbled around in his pockets for his beetle case, but it didn’t seem to be in any of the places where he could’ve left it.
“An arbor…” Yaz looked thoughtful. He didn’t look thoughtful very often. Maybe it was a look he ought to try on more girls. He found his own beetle box and lit up, putting his feet on the arm of the sofa.
“They don’t like you smoking in here,” said Hrald, mostly because he didn’t seem to have anything to smoke himself.
“What’ll they do?” Yaz blew a smoke ring at him. “Let us leave?”
Hrald laughed, and Yaz laughed too, and neither of them stopped. Hrald shoved Yaz’s feet off the sofa to make him turn and make room, although Yaz (drunk) didn’t get the hint right away. But eventually they were both installed, shoulder to shoulder and almost crying laughing.
“How long have we been here?” said Hrald, wheezing.
Yazkool was trying to hold his beetle in an elegant pose and safely away from burning the upholstery, but with his other hand he pounded Hrald inaccurately on the back. “Long enough to run out of girls and start courting plants, eh? Eh?”
More laughter, sort of insane, getting painful. “All right, give us a smoke, Yaz.”
That thoughtful look again. “I might.”
“Might you?”
“Someone ought to kiss me tonight. My hair looks so good.”
“I know, I helped you color it. Wasn’t the arbor nice enough for you?”
“Oh, she was very nice, very giving,” said Yaz, and started laughing again. But he didn’t give up his beetle and he didn’t reach to get Hrald another one.
“Oh, all right,” said Hrald, rolling his eyes. He leaned in. They’d been here for months, anyway – it wouldn’t be the first time.
