Barren Plot
Dec. 28th, 2009 08:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fairieloreTitle: Barren Plot
Characters: Mercer, Cutler Beckett
Pairings: Beckett/Mercer
Rating: PG-13
Comment fic : PotC, Mercer/Beckett, Lilacs
Word Count: 345
Cutler readies himself for another insufferable ball, but he must attend as the head of one of the greatest organizations that his Majesty commands. There will be nobility and the rich in the midst, most of them having never worked a day in their life. The accumulation of wealth from generation to generation grants them such a privilege. But the prestige of his position has garnered their respect, despite that his work never ceases. He works from the moment his eyes open to the moment they close, and even in his dreams his mind is toiling away.
His eyes casually flicker around as he traverses the flower garden and he halts as he smoothes his lapel. “Which one should I put for tonight?” He asks, glancing over to his right hand man, the only man he does not consider a pawn because he already devotes all his loyalty to him without any need for manipulation.
“Perhaps the lilac, sir. It’s a symbol of the tender emotions of early love.” The words are without hesitation and once he receives approval he plucks but a single flower and carefully puts in his lapel, the closeness of the act never dawns on Beckett, not even as the fingers do up the buttons on his coat.
“Maybe it will ward off those ceaseless suitors if they think I’m already involved with someone. Ravenous as wolves they are. Though, I’m sure the symbol will be lost on them.” He says with a gentle sigh, and the glisten in Mercer’s eyes never processes. “When are you going to plant roses? The garden needs a little bit of life to it.” He comments and heads off before he receives a response.
Mercer meticulously buys every bag of seeds that will bloom roses the next day and plants them almost immediately. He waits through the four required months and lets every other flower wilt away. By the time fall comes the garden is but a barren plot of dirt and anyone who sets their sights on it would think that it were cursed.
Characters: Mercer, Cutler Beckett
Pairings: Beckett/Mercer
Rating: PG-13
Comment fic : PotC, Mercer/Beckett, Lilacs
Word Count: 345
Cutler readies himself for another insufferable ball, but he must attend as the head of one of the greatest organizations that his Majesty commands. There will be nobility and the rich in the midst, most of them having never worked a day in their life. The accumulation of wealth from generation to generation grants them such a privilege. But the prestige of his position has garnered their respect, despite that his work never ceases. He works from the moment his eyes open to the moment they close, and even in his dreams his mind is toiling away.
His eyes casually flicker around as he traverses the flower garden and he halts as he smoothes his lapel. “Which one should I put for tonight?” He asks, glancing over to his right hand man, the only man he does not consider a pawn because he already devotes all his loyalty to him without any need for manipulation.
“Perhaps the lilac, sir. It’s a symbol of the tender emotions of early love.” The words are without hesitation and once he receives approval he plucks but a single flower and carefully puts in his lapel, the closeness of the act never dawns on Beckett, not even as the fingers do up the buttons on his coat.
“Maybe it will ward off those ceaseless suitors if they think I’m already involved with someone. Ravenous as wolves they are. Though, I’m sure the symbol will be lost on them.” He says with a gentle sigh, and the glisten in Mercer’s eyes never processes. “When are you going to plant roses? The garden needs a little bit of life to it.” He comments and heads off before he receives a response.
Mercer meticulously buys every bag of seeds that will bloom roses the next day and plants them almost immediately. He waits through the four required months and lets every other flower wilt away. By the time fall comes the garden is but a barren plot of dirt and anyone who sets their sights on it would think that it were cursed.
