Chronicles of the Sword
Disclaimer: Guess who doesn't own Langrisser. Me? BRILLIANT! Anyway, this is just a series of short stories taking place in the Langrisser universe. Updates will come when I have inspiration… in other words, quite sporadically.
Title: Fashion Sense
Pairing: Ricky/Schelfaniel (loosely implied)
Disclaimer: … read the bold text above.
Summary: The !Scarf and the !Hat become a topic of discussion.
"Mm… Ricky?" Schelfaniel said in her soft tone, as she looked over at the raven-haired swordsman, who was currently lounging in a chair, reading. Ricky blinked, and looked up.
"Yes, Princess?" he responded, managing to tone down his typical ebullience. "What is it?"
"May I ask you a question?"
Ricky blinked at her inquiry. "Ask away, my lady," he told her, curious to the nature of her query. This was an odd occurrence…
"Why do you wear your scarf?" Schelfaniel asked, tilting her head quzzically. Ricky simply looked confused, the book in his hands now forgotten.
"… forgive me Princess, but I don't understand the question," Ricky replied, wondering what kind of answer she was looking for. He didn't even know; the scarf had been part of his wardrobe as far back as he could remember (post adoption, naturally; he didn't care for the memories before that) and that was that.
Schefaniel, however, was not to be deterred. "Really?" she asked, something akin to skepticism in her tone. (Not full on, however, as the Caconcis princess was too nice for that.) "I assumed that wearing it so often, you would have some kind of sentimental attachment to it…"
The girl was 0 for 1, though Ricky wasn't about to rub it in her (very, very pretty) face. Though he liked the cloth, he didn't have any particular affection for it – though it did make him look good. Quite good, in his own opinion –
"Drat. I really need to stop going off on these tangents. A pity; it seems that my brilliant mind simply cannot be – oh, hell. I can't stop, can I?"
The voice of the magician brought him out of his little reverie, and he found himself looking at her with a blank expression on his face.
Inspiration hit him then. "I suppose I wear it for the same reason you wear that hat currently adorning your head…" he told her airily, his hand running through his hair briefly. Hopefully, the answer (whatever it was) would turn out to be satisfactory for his case as well…
Schefaniel blinked. Then blinked again. And again.
Finally, she shook her head, and smiled. "Your brother or sister thought it would look cute and forced you to wear it under penalty of haircut?" she responded teasingly, her eyes dancing with mirth.
Dead silence reigned for a few moments.
"… that didn't turn out anything like I thought it would," Ricky said lamely.
A melodious giggle. "I didn't think so," she told him, as she turned around and headed for the door, pausing only to look back at him. "The kitchen is due to start serving dinner soon. Are you eating?"
Ricky blinked, before calmly putting his book down and standing up, an aura of poise around him. (A stark contrast to the explosion of joy his subconscious was currently experiencing.)
"I suppose so, Princess."
As the two left the room, snippets of conversation floated from the door…
"Doesn't that hat ever get in the way?"
"About as much as your scarf does, I believe."
"… brilliantly played as always, my lady."