Frills and Lace
There was nothing quite like the haziness of a dream that felt too real. In one sense, it was peculiar enough to seem unquestionably like a figment of the sleeping imagination. In another, it seemed too real, too much like a memory. There was a white dress as well as lace and frills. There were bows as well, that matched his hair, so she said.
Throughout all the elegance, there was a deep sense of misery in the dream.
There were always at least a hundred distractions waiting to pop up as soon as he started a tedious project. He ran his fingers through his hair to keep the crimson hued bangs out of his eyes, determined to get at least one shelf organized. Normally, his attempts at cleaning ended in swift and risible failure, but the bookcase was becoming a source of embarrassment, as his mother put it.
The books he didn't need were dusty and had a myriad of important documents sticking out from in between them. He had fallen into the bad habit of sticking 'important' pieces of paper between books with half of the paper sticking out to remind himself to deal with it.
At first, it had proven much more effective than putting them in labeled folders that always ended up under everything else on his desk. However, there was now some sort of document between every book. There were some particularly bad areas with multiple things piled above or below one another.
Unfortunately, the mess didn't end there. There were over stuffed folders, a dictionary that fell to pieces from overuse, random stacks of 'filed' paperwork, mysteriously broken binders, shreds of maps the cats mistook for toys, and a notable amount of cat hair where the aforementioned felines found nooks to nap in. To top it off, there were a few vases of wilted flowers that Sophie had brought him that he hadn't been bothered to deal with. She would take care of the ones that she could reach, but there were at least half a dozen others that were too high and thus neglected.
Where do I even start…?
He glanced over to the clock and frowned. It wouldn't be long before Richard and Sophie returned from Barona; their turtle could be arriving at any minute. He could already hear his mother complaining about how his office was the quintessence of dishonorable lordship especially in the presence of the king. Lady Kerri would always try to dismiss his argument as nonsense if he tried to protest that the least of Richard's concerns was the state of his office.
Nevertheless, the dead flowers and dust bunnies were getting to be a bit too much. He cast the bookcase a look of determination as he grabbed a thick book of Lhant's family history. It took some forceful pulling to extract, then left a flurry of unread letters and a few cat toys falling to the floor. He sat it on his desk, but winced when he heard a pile of papers hit the floor.
Maybe mom did have a bit of a point.
Offended by the noise, Sir Meows-a-lot jumped down from a shelf and sprung off the young lord's back at the same moment the door opened. Asbel winced momentarily when his cat's claws dug through his coat and into his skin, but his visitor drew his attention a second later.
"Good afternoon," Richard greeted as he glanced around the office. "You look rather preoccupied at the moment."
"Ah…! No, not really," Asbel rambled as his cat jumped down and he gathered the fallen pile. "I mean…hello, Richard."
"Is this a belated spring cleaning?" the king questioned bemusedly as he strolled inside.
"Sort of," he grumbled as he shoved one pile back onto a shelf then tried to get another stack out of the way.
"You need a secretary or two," he remarked as he strolled over to the desk.
"But that just makes for more budget paperwork," Asbel said as he frowned at the looming piles.
"It's by far worthwhile," he said knowingly. "It might not hurt to let the maid in here once in a while."
"Yeah…" the Lord of Lhant trailed off as he blew the dust off of a pile of neglected personal mail.
Sir Meows-a-lot watched them from the doorway before stalking past the king with an air of royal feline superiority. Asbel hurried to clear a stack of folders off one of the chairs as Richard examined the book on the desk. Asbel was too busy apologizing while pushing things off the chair to notice his friend opening the Lhant family book.
"This is quite a detailed history," Richard said as he flipped to the more recent pages.
Asbel only glanced up briefly as he set the chair pile on the floor. "It's pretty old. I don't think my mother has updated it recently."
"It looks like she filled quite a few pages when you and Hubert were very young."
"She was always crazy about having painters and those expensive photographers from the capital come in a few times a year," Asbel explained thoughtlessly.
He adjusted the stack newly on the floor in the vain hope that it would not topple over. Silence fell for a few moments when Richard paused on a certain page and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Asbel had never actually read the family book, since so much of it was just general information and portraits of relatives he never met. They were good and respectable tributes, but lordship came with too many other responsibilities for him to linger in the past too often.
Although, that may not have been his best decision.
"Asbel…" he trailed off as he held the book up. "Is this really you?"
Asbel nearly jumped at the sight of the page, which caused his foot to hit the stack and knock it over. There were several things about the full page, black and white photograph that jumped out of him. The first thing was the frills, then the lace, and finally the little bows holding very tiny pigtails up. The two youthful individuals depicted could not have been more than three or four years old, but it failed to make the sight less demeaning. Most prominently, they looked like very miserable…sisters.
"D-dresses?" Asbel stammered as he stared at the photo in horror and disbelief.
Everything about that peculiar memory-like dream from the night before came flooding back in an instant.
"And lacey pantyhose," the king said unhelpfully.
"Are those my cousins or something?" Asbel asked as he hurried over to his friend's side.
He had only one goal; tactfully get the book away from Richard and figure out what on Ephinea his mother had done to them well after the blond left Lhant. He watched in despair as Richard took another look at the picture.
"Can I see that?" Asbel asked, trying his best to sound polite.
"I think I can read the notes without help," Richard said as he walked over to the window for betting lighting.
Damn it.
"My mother's cursive can be really sloppy sometimes," he said with a nervous laugh while reaching for the book.
"It's clear enough," he said as he held the book up and began reading. "Although I wished for daughters when I was younger, I am simply delighted that Asbel and Hubert looked so adorable dressed up like princesses! It's just like having two daughters."
Asbel stood in grim silence for a few moments, distantly wondering why he had started his cleaning with that particular book.
"I don't really remember that at all," Asbel blurted out lamely.
"The mind does have a way of suppressing unpleasant childhood memories. Although you did look rather cute in all that lace, it really suits you," Richard added jokingly.
The Lord of Lhant frowned. "Very funny."
"You might want to keep this book in a more secure place," he said lightly. "The two of you do look quite…convincing."
"That's enough," Asbel insisted as he cast another dark look at the picture, though something occurred to him upon staring at it. "…Hubert's hair was a lot longer then. It's nearly down to his shoulders."
"I don't recall his hair being so long when we all met as children. It looks like real hair, not a wig," Richard observed. "It looks like your mother got him with a curling iron."
There were some moments when Asbel didn't know how to feel about the king's extensive knowledge of hair styles and care.
"Maybe this is why he always keeps it so short now," Asbel said, inwardly wondering how angry his little brother would be at the sight of the picture. "He did read a lot…he could have found it. Or he just remembered it."
"That sounds rather likely," Richard agreed.
"Anyway, that's enough of this," Asbel said as he quickly lifted the book from the king's hands and slammed it shut. "This can go back on the shelf for another fifteen years."
"If you say so," he said with a laugh.
Asbel marched over to the bookcase and removed a vase of wilted flowers on a high shelf. With any luck, it would be too high for his mother to reach and add more demeaning "memorabilia" to its dark depths. It took a few pushes to get the book in the tight area, but it was finally out of sight and out of mind.
"You made a good princess," Richard said amusedly.
"That's enough joking about it," Asbel sighed as he sat down behind the desk.
Richard took the seat across from him with a small smirk. "You don't agree?"
The young Lord of Lhant paused for a moment. "Whatever you say, Richard."
If you lost brain cells while reading this, you have my apologies and Asbel's sympathies. We can join his club of derpyness together.
Furthermore, there are two ways for you guys to interpret this cracktastic oneshot.
1. Richard is just being a troll.
2. Richard actually wants grown up Asbel in a pretty dress and lacy undergarments (derpy pigtails optional).
The choice is yours. 8D