Masterpiece
Author: Aki
Focus: Morphia/Thuban
Rating: PG
An angry woman is a lot like a nuclear weapon: they must be handled with care and not given to idiots. Many people are forced to learn this the hard way, and some are just plain lucky that they aren't killed by any irate females. One can usually easily tell one type of person from the other, except perhaps in the case of the Prince of Draco, Thuban.
His fiancee, Princess Morphia, hated getting her picture painted, because it meant sitting in some uncomfortable position for hours, often days, and getting scolded severely for moving. On days that she happened to be getting her portrait, the brunette was a tempest of unpleasant emotions. She would snap at the slightest provocation, cry out at the slightest touch, pout at any criticism. It was difficult for Thuban to be anywhere near her with such a hyperemotional state, which only made her sulk and simmer even more.
Unfortunately for the both of them, she had recently started a new portrait for her upcoming coronation. It was going to be a very long, detailed one that would require about eight days of posing, and eight days of irate Polaris. Thuban decided to make himself scarce by studying in the library while she was out of the studio. Sure, he could still hear her raging above him or outside of the door, but at least he wasn't suffering any damage, right?
Then, on the fourth day she ran into the library, in tears. She apparently didn't notice Thuban still reading a book as she rushed to the fiction section, pulled out a favorite and began sobbing all over its yellowed pages.
Cautiously, he closed his book and walked over to stand next to her, "You're going to make the ink run."
"Oh, what do YOU know?! It's not like they make you do uncomfortable poses and scream at you if you move a single inch!" She seethed, closing the book and shoving it back in its place.
Thuban bit his lip. Should he ask the obvious? "Are you okay?"
"Of course. Why wouldn't I be? I mean, they merely ruined the painting so I get another happy eight days together of stiffness, misery and verbal abuse. And another eight days of everyone avoiding me like I'm diseased." Morphia raged.
"O-oh. I'm sorry. I, um, why don't you ask if they can use the old painting?" He asked timidly.
"Have you lost your mind?! He smeared paint all over it. Someone might as well have dropped it in the mud! Oh, what a lovely picture to show the citizens, 'Queen ala Mud'!"
He couldn't help himself. He giggled a little at the image of a bunch of guests at the coronation, staring at an elegant-looking queen and a smeared, muddy portrait. Then he saw the look of helplessness that Morphia had on her face and stopped, "I'm sorry. I'm terribly sorry it happened! I hope that this painting doesn't take as long. And every day after you're done, I promise I'll walk with you to wherever you want to go, alright?"
This was aparently the right thing to say, since she looked neither irritated nor sad. She sniffled a little, then said in a very soft voice, "I... would really like that."
"U-uhm, then it's decided! I'll pick you up every day, alright?" He said, trying hard to fight the nervousness in his voice. The prospect of having to see her in this scary state was still terrifying.
"Yes." She gave him a short nod, then pulled her book out again and began to read. At least she seemed calm enough now, and that was good.
In the end, the picture did not get done before her coronation due to the fact that she just didn't seem able to stop nervously looking out the door, so her pose could never be well defined. Yet she never complained, and kept relatively level-headed. The artist, though agitated that his model couldn't keep still, was happy to make a secret sketch for himself of the young princess. That of a comforting hug from the Prince Draco to Princess Polaris.
Back to Aki's fiction.