Laurus Nobilis (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
laurus_nobilis) wrote2006-04-08 10:45 am
laurus_nobilis) wrote2006-04-08 10:45 am
Politics [Card Captor Sakura/The Three Musketeers; English]
Title: Politics
Rating: PG
Genre: Political intrigue... sort of :P
Pairings: Clow/Madame de Chevreuse
Summary: Intrigue was her true love.
Notes: Written for Crossovers 100's prompt Ends.
She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. It was hard to tell, with all those wigs and make-up that the French wore nowadays; that was a fashion he had never got used to. But now, like this, she was beautiful.
She was also intelligent, even devious. Neither of them pretended to be in love, so it didn't matter that she had very practical reasons to be with him, just like it didn't matter that Marie wasn't her real name. It would be good for a while, and then each of them would return to their usual lives.
He knew she would end up angry at him. However, her disappointment would have nothing to do with her feelings. Those had never played a part in this at all.
Clow could tell that the end was near when she moved closer to him and whispered, with her face against his neck, tell me of England.
He smiled to himself, resigned. Politics were such a boring topic, and they certainly should not be mentioned in bed. Then again, he had been expecting this. As much as she praised his exotic looks, what had drawn her to him was his connection to the enemy; that was no secret to him. Intrigue was her true love.
"I have not seen England in a very long time," he told her. Besides, he probably wouldn't have been able to tell her anything useful even if he had been there. He had stopped paying attention to those things much, much earlier. Nothing ever lasted, anyway; he had seen too many changes to remember.
She sat up, covering herself with the sheets, and looked away. It was such a pity, Clow thought; she looked so pretty when she was offended. He could still see her pale, slender back, that she had left bare with a graceful and calculated movement. Such a pity indeed...
But he had nothing to tell her. Trying to regain her interest would be useless, and he knew it too well. With a sigh, he sat up himself and reached for his clothes.
"You will have better luck, someday," he said, cleaning his spectacles with his sleeve, "and find a man who loves intrigue as much as you do."
She still didn't look at him. Clow smiled at her one last time and closed the door behind him.
(For those less geeky than me, Madame de Chevreuse sometimes went by the name of Marie Mignon. The man who loves intrigue is, of course, Aramis.)
Rating: PG
Genre: Political intrigue... sort of :P
Pairings: Clow/Madame de Chevreuse
Summary: Intrigue was her true love.
Notes: Written for Crossovers 100's prompt Ends.
She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. It was hard to tell, with all those wigs and make-up that the French wore nowadays; that was a fashion he had never got used to. But now, like this, she was beautiful.
She was also intelligent, even devious. Neither of them pretended to be in love, so it didn't matter that she had very practical reasons to be with him, just like it didn't matter that Marie wasn't her real name. It would be good for a while, and then each of them would return to their usual lives.
He knew she would end up angry at him. However, her disappointment would have nothing to do with her feelings. Those had never played a part in this at all.
Clow could tell that the end was near when she moved closer to him and whispered, with her face against his neck, tell me of England.
He smiled to himself, resigned. Politics were such a boring topic, and they certainly should not be mentioned in bed. Then again, he had been expecting this. As much as she praised his exotic looks, what had drawn her to him was his connection to the enemy; that was no secret to him. Intrigue was her true love.
"I have not seen England in a very long time," he told her. Besides, he probably wouldn't have been able to tell her anything useful even if he had been there. He had stopped paying attention to those things much, much earlier. Nothing ever lasted, anyway; he had seen too many changes to remember.
She sat up, covering herself with the sheets, and looked away. It was such a pity, Clow thought; she looked so pretty when she was offended. He could still see her pale, slender back, that she had left bare with a graceful and calculated movement. Such a pity indeed...
But he had nothing to tell her. Trying to regain her interest would be useless, and he knew it too well. With a sigh, he sat up himself and reached for his clothes.
"You will have better luck, someday," he said, cleaning his spectacles with his sleeve, "and find a man who loves intrigue as much as you do."
She still didn't look at him. Clow smiled at her one last time and closed the door behind him.
(For those less geeky than me, Madame de Chevreuse sometimes went by the name of Marie Mignon. The man who loves intrigue is, of course, Aramis.)