#❪❪ the heart pierced by cupid ✘ sirens verse ❫❫

[chibinasuu]

My Jolly Sailor Bold | Straw Hats x Reader

★ requested by @supernatural-hunter1 (see here)

Summary: You found yourself humming an old song from your childhood as you mend the sails of the Thousand Sunny Tags: sfw, platonic straw hats x reader, GN but written with F!Reader in mind, no use of y/n

The Thousand Sunny floated on the open ocean, in near stillness due to the absence of the sails upon its masts.

You sat on the deck, humming a tune as old as time as you deftly thread a needle through the vast fabric draped all around you, sewing shut a large tear down its length.

A run-in with particularly violent weather had caused some damage to the ship, forcing the crew to momentarily stop in the middle of the now-calm waters for emergency repairs. Franky and Usopp were fixing the splintered railing, and Jinbe had just returned from his underwater inspection below the ship to check for leaks in the hull. Meanwhile, the others were clearing up the deck from debris brought over by the storm.

Your fingers danced upon the sail on autopilot – in and out, in and out. It had become your responsibility to mend the sails anytime damage occurred, even though you knew that Robin, with her powers, could do the job in seconds. But whenever the crew was not in a hurry, you found yourself volunteering for the task, finding it enjoyable and even calming.

Your hums slowly turned into song as you recalled the words to the tune, passed on long ago by your mother, and her mother before her, and her mother before her. 

“Come all you pretty fair maids, whoever you may be. 

Who love a jolly sailor that ploughs the raging sea” 

The faint call of the seabirds flying high above complimented your voice, and the slow hammering of your hard-working shipwright provided a steady beat of accompaniment as you continued to softly sing, 

“While up aloft in storm, from me his absence mourn

And firmly pray, arrive the day, he's never more to roam”

Some of the crew members near you had started to notice your somber melodies, hands unwittingly pausing in their tasks as if enchanted by a siren’s voice.

“My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing–”

You abruptly stopped singing as you became aware of the sudden silence that washed over the deck. You looked up to see all of your crewmates watching you intently with fond smiles on their faces. Heat spread to your cheeks in embarrassment at their attention, and you covered your face with the sail you were stitching. 

“Oh, please don’t stop, darling!” Sanji cooed loudly, “Please let me hear your wonderful voice again!”

Brook came over to you and remarked, “What a beautifully haunting song. I’ve never heard it before in all my life – or death! Yo ho ho ho!”

The musician pulled out his violin, trying to replicate the melodies based only on what he heard you sing. You helped him by humming the notes, and with the repetitive nature of the song, it only took an instant for the maestro to pick it up. 

With Brook’s silent encouragement, you joined in the violin’s serenade, singing verse after verse of the song for the small audience.

“There is nothing can console me

But my Jolly Sailor Bold.”

The crew broke out in enthusiastic claps, wolf-whistles, and cheers as the song reached its end. You laughed sheepishly and took a playful bow, before shooing everyone back to their respective chores. 

The catchy song seemed to have wormed its way into your crewmates’ heads, and over the next few days, you caught some of them absentmindedly humming the tune, or singing it with jumbled words as they have yet to memorize the lyrics. 

Your heart warmed whenever you heard the melodies coming from your crewmates’ lips, breathing a new life to the previously half-forgotten song – a piece of your hometown carried over to your new home.

↳ masterlist

[yohohonabottle]

Quickpost- Shanty duet

No I'm not procrastinating. >:( Heard this song and when the 'sailor' joined singing, it's like I heard Sinbad sing. And instantly had this scenario in my head help--

---------------------------

How, Sinbad convinced him to sing -With that rugged charm of his- Pirin has zero idea. It all started with coming across a stray amateur minstrels, crowing the song "Jolly sailor Bold".. And before 'no' could slip out his mouth, the callous hand holding his own tugged. Off the 'Siren' was, whisked away to the passing bards.

"Who starts singing first?"

"The lady! The story is about a noblewoman, who fell in love with a scruffy sailor, called by the tides!"

Didn't even need to glance up at the Captain to know the devious smirk curled on that stubbled face. It practically radiates "What a coincidence!" (You are a nobleman, in a way- Even with the Crusades and your family, bloodline decimated. And can pass off for a lady nicely.) And aren't I your Jolly sailor?

--"Sinbad, this is.. We don't have time for this." Merlin has been particularly volatile lately, dropping task after task. And today, the mage said she needs a Damedangler or two for one of her spells. The legitimacy of the claim is, honestly questionable, but she's Boss. At most, he can merely voice discontent or express disagreement with the assignments-- What Boss says, happens.

—"C'on, Vanyusha! The fish can wait--When will we get the chance?" The look of affection and happy pride simmering underneath the teasing is... near blinding. (It's been roughly a year or two since getting together, started dating in secret. Still hasn't gotten used to seeing that kind of love-struck, soft look on the man's face. Like being in heaven, at ease and willing to flip the world upside-down just for this one, simple monster like him.) "And if we're late, then we can always snag one from Al's stall. Freshly caught, at good prices."

—"....You're unbelievable." -Yet allows himself to be pulled along, lips curved upward into stupidly happy smile. The minstrels beginning to play the melody at Sinbad's motion of a hand.

—"I know." We wouldn't have it any other way.

Listening to the melody and recalling the lyrics from the first time he'd heard the song at the tavern, the 'siren' picks up the song, matching the faintly mournful-amorous tune. And out that pretty mouth, instead of Death's eerie rasp, emerges a maiden's lovely voice. Sonorous, gentle with grace, weaving the first verse of the song. Haunting and enchanting.

Upon one summer's morning I carefully did stray Down by the Walls of Wapping Where I met a sailor gay Conversing with a young lass Who seem'd to be in pain

Saying, "William, when you go I fear you'll ne'er return again" ..Memories resurface with each line of their verse, the song itself carrying an odd sense of peace. Also eerie, Sinbad's humming adding to it while his turn comes to sing solo as the lady. Only joining him in the chorus, the last two verses of the song, hands resting on his sharp hips. Then comes the chorus, a dulcet tone joining with his own, following suit with his lead without straying nor overshadowing.

My heart is pierced by Cupid I disdain all glittering gold

-—When Sinbad went alone, to drive away Hodgkin's attention as bait. And he had very narrowly declared he'll come with him, so Sonja would strike from behind. ..But held back, as that would've been irrational. And not something Merlin would do. Then, in that moment-- 'Pirin' wasn't there. It was Merlin. Still didn't quell his worry.—---

There is nothing can console me But my jolly sailor bold

--—When the rascal leapt into the waters to swim back to the Chainkeeper, while the Kraken raged-- And how his heart sank. Almost, barely managed to restrain himself from calling the sailor's name or reach out to grab him. Stop him. Dart after, jump after the man.—-

My heart is pierced by Cupid I disdain all glittering gold

The warm, callous hands resting on his hips give a light, reassuring squeeze. Draw him close, bodies meeting chest to chest for a fleeting moment--' I'm here. I'm okay, safe, unharmed.'--before he's guided into a slow spin. Pirin rests his forehead on the firm chest in that moment with eyelids closed, listening to the steady heartbeat drumming beneath. The rhythmic intake and exhale of breath of the strong lungs, untainted by water nor pierced.

Alive.

There is nothing can console me But my jolly sailor bold

Holding his mage close in a gentle hug, the Seaside Savant hums quietly along with the last fading notes of tune strummed; Letting the shaken-up ghost have a moment to calm from those old memories, resting his chin atop the crown of snowy silk, presses a chaste kiss. I'm here. It's alright, I'm okay. ---—Back in those days, the thought of ever entering a relationship not once so much as flew in his mind. Even less the idea of settling down, committing to someone. Then the escapades happened, braving the high seas and hell itself, and then the thought sprouted-- With it, the new, puzzling feelings of longing. Though odd as it seemed to him at the time. Absurd. Nascent.—-- --Desire thrummed next, gradually mellowing out to a different thing. But he was too much of a coward to face it, kept to the superficial flame of it. The 'Ice king' is attractive and got a charm, no doubt. Deep down, it carried on burning and steadily growing still-- All the little minute details once overlooked, became at the forefront.--—

Certain ticks, habits, cadence, cues that this short 'doll' has.

It was that gentle, sweet and kind, patient heart--That was, ultimately, very steadily pulling, drawing him in towards the assistant. The fiery, unshakable spirit and conviction, sharp wits being a welcomed discovery endearing him even more. The only one who can keep up with his antics, match them step for step and keep him reigned in from drifting away. Keep him on his toes. -—-=Then came along the incident on one of his gigs with a curse-potion thrown.

It's then, that Sinbad had nowhere to run. It was either face this particular desire of his while still having the time, seize it--Or miss his chance and regret it. Needless to say, the former option was picked.=-—- I have no regrets.

-"Promise me one thing, my Jolly sailor..."

--"What is it, angel?" Anything. You can tell me to jump off a bridge, and I'd do it without question. —"When you set sail on the high seas, take me with you." So I can be a helping hand. So I won't loose you from my sight, and you won't loose me from yours either.

So that, if misfortune strikes unbidden, I can be with you. Til the end, whatever it may come to be. —"Of course." Pulling back and breaking the embrace, a smile plays on his chapped lips. It returns to high-spirits, humorous. Larking. But the rhetorical question bear full weight contrary to the light-hearted tone. "What Captain would I be without a trusty Mage?" Without my First-mate?

The fond grin that pulls the haggard thin lips upwards, weathered pearls lighting up--A sight radiant as the sun itself. And the selfish, money-loving fool knows he'd never get tired of it.

—"We should move along, those Damedanglers won't wait for us all day. We can snag some clams along, since it's on the way." Oho? Is that a clam & snakebone grass soup I hear? Normally you can't make him even consider eating fish, unless really desperate with literally no other choice....However that Grass Carp stew the 'Siren' made, with the unique spice of Blazing orchid, mild tang of Black olive and Hexaflower was something else!

The only time he'd eaten fish, and with gusto. No pesky bones to sputter, no scales somehow having snuck in, no guts, nope. But even still, nothing can possibly beat the star's Clam, snakebone grass and raddish soup.

—"Say no more, I'm onboard. Let's go!" Let's hope Valen doesn't get his hands on it first.. If he weasels my dinner from under my nose again, I'm throwin' hands. And I clearly wrote my name on it, the note was right on the bowl!

"Sorry, I didn't know." Bullspit.

[quinnyvega]

@strangeacademy​ said: “You speak our language surprisingly well.” ( alba )

A figura encarou o filho da morte com curiosidade, infelizmente não era alguém para se brincar, muito embora esta se fizesse ser a sua vontade. Ainda com o corpo praticamente todo debaixo d’água, somente o rosto exposto para o mesmo, o olhar curioso jazia sobre ele. Alba. ❝ O que? Esperava que eu falasse algo tipo baleiês? Ou falasse tão agudo e chato como os golfinhos? ❞ A pitada de sarcasmo em sua voz foi notória, contudo, não tentava ser ácida propositalmente, era parte de sua natureza, era como ela havia sido criada afinal. ❝ Eu sou capaz de falar mais línguas do que você imagina, Alba. ❞ 

[paradise-of-guilty-pleasures]

Shattered Reflections {24}

[Helsa RP- Fanfic]

Fandom: Frozen

Genre: Post-Frozen/ Canon Divergence

- Hurt/Comfort, Drama, Romance

Pairing(s): Hans/Elsa, Kristoff/Anna

Previous Chapter: 23. Cordially Invited

24. Hark the Harpist’s Harmony

"Should I move to the harp, then?" Hans hummed, with a playful smile. Perhaps he recognized that there might be some resistance to the idea of moving away-- from both of them. "I can be here for as long as you'll have me, my time is meaningless." He assured, lightly. He had all the time in the world.

"Yes, please do, play the harp I mean," Elsa nodded as she awkwardly shifted a bit more to sit up in her seat. Technically she  could  stay as long as she wanted as well, but that didn't mean she  should . What she should and probably would do was get some more paperwork done before supper, after concluding their tea time.

Hans smiled just a little, and nodded. He got up to move over to the harp, sitting up straight and adjusting himself to sit exactly the way one should while playing. He checked to make sure it was in tune, then began to play. It wasn't his  first  instinct, to play something happy. Indeed, usually he would default to something melancholy. But, for Elsa's sake, he searched for something  not  gloomy. He found something that, while not gloomy, wasn't happy, either. It was more mysterious, an intrigue. A half-remembered song from a foreign land that he transferred from whatever original instrument to a harp. He focused on the strings while he played, as focused on that as anyone could be, lost in the strings as it were.

Elsa was completely enthralled, the harp was indeed a beautiful instrument and Hans played it exquisitely. The tune he chose a lovely piece that was quite captivating and she wasn't sure how to describe it other than melodically magical. Perhaps magical wasn't the correct word for her to use considering she was the Magical Ice Queen herself, but the sounds of the harp somehow seemed to give off that particular sensation. She really hoped she wouldn't distract him by deciding to move closer to get a better view. Elsa carefully and quietly made her way to piano, and gently took a seat on the bench facing Hans. She really wanted to experience his wonderful playing with as many senses as possible. To be able to do that she had to take in every detail and study everything from his posture and breathing, the form in which his fingers meticulously strummed the strings and of course the concentration on his face.

 He glanced at her curiously as she moved closer, but his lip quirked just slightly, and he returned his focus, continuing to play. When one song ended, he only paused a moment before playing another. This time he hummed along, as if it had lyrics, but only half-remembered. It was a different style of song, a little lighter, a little friendlier, softer. Something that was, perhaps, attached to a memory of his. He seemed very much to allow himself to sink into his playing. Focused on the strings, and the thoughts behind them as the music became as natural as breathing in and out again. It had been a while since he played, but some things could be very deeply ingrained.

Elsa now sat leaning forward with her elbows near her knees and her hands cupping her face. Certainly not the proper posture for a Queen, but she was completely mesmerized by the music. After closely observing Hans for some time, she decided to close her eyes and just let music envelop her. The addition of his hum made the experience even more delightful, she could almost hear him singing even with the absence of words. With her eyes shut and completely absorbed by the song she hadn't taken notice that it was happening again, the same strange phenomenon as last night, a light flurry of fluttering snowflakes began to fall.

Hans almost jumped at the first snowflake to land on his hand, but he managed, and continued on. When he glanced at Elsa, he couldn't help but smile at how absorbed she seemed to be. He was sort of glad that she didn't ask too many questions about that song. 

 The third song was smaller, softer, more melancholy. Nervously, uncertainly, he took a breath. 

  "Who needs a dream?

Who needs ambition?  

Who'd be the fool, in my position?  

Once I had dreams, Now they're obsessions.

Hopes became needs, lover's possessions."  

 He sang softly but with feeling. His singing was beautiful, it had passion even at a low volume and sung shyly. He was someone who felt music, perhaps as much as Elsa did. He may not have been trained in singing, but he had a voice, and he had the training for the harp. He sang through a whole song of passion and uncertainty and the unexpected nature of life. 

  "But what's the point,  

if I'm concealing  

not only love, all other feeling?"  

 He knew the words by rote, perhaps he wasn't thinking about them. He stayed focused on the strings, and though the song was sad, it was warming, in its way. Melancholy could be a positive feeling, too. He only hoped Elsa felt that, too.

Elsa was surprised to hear his voice, her smile grew and her eyes flung open at the sound. She finally took note of the snowflakes, but paid them no mind, closing her eyes once again to better focus on the lyrics he was softly singing. It was certainly more melancholic, yet it was also quite beautiful and passionate, especially the way Hans recited it with his melodious voice. Once Hans finished the song, Elsa opened her eyes, and sat back up a bit. 

 "That was lovely," she praised sweetly.

"You think so?" Hans was a little shy about it, but he smiled all the same. He suspected she would say the same if it wasn't lovely, but she wouldn't say it in the same way. She wouldn't say it with snow, either, unless it was true. He couldn't help but blush a little at the thought. "I do like a  bit  more than just sea shanties." He admitted with an amused tone, as if to make light of his singing. It wasn't something he practiced often, but some things were natural. It was clear he was shy of being heard, too. As he had said, he picked an instrument to blend into the background. Elsa had to be something special, to prompt him to take center stage.

"Of course," she answered with a warm smile. "Though I think sea shanties can be quite lovely too," she proposed. She remembered the first song he sang to her. Elsa took a quick glance over her shoulder at the piano behind her, before she decided to turn her body towards it. She got a spontaneous urge to prove it. Elsa had gotten quite rusty at playing the piano, but she thought she could manage to play the simple tune, that she'd memorized by humming it so long ago. She hummed as she played the tune, because she'd yet to learn the lyrics to their entirety, the only verse that she really knew by heart was the one that started in  'My heart is pierced by Cupid' .

Hans smiled at the memory, glad that Elsa believed him-- and perhaps a little sheepish that she remembered his singing so well. 

 "You have a beautiful singing voice, yourself." He remarked softly. "You might put the sirens to shame." The songs seemed to draw parallels in their lives, he noticed. Concealing feelings and hearts pierced by cupid. He couldn't help but have a feeling about that. A feeling he tucked away, back inside his rib cage where it belonged. He would hold his tongue, as he did at home, to keep him from making a fool of himself.

Hans' comment made Elsa's ear burn red, it was easier for her to hide her shyness when she was still facing away from him. This had been the second time he'd compared her to a Siren, she wondered if that was meant to be a good thing, since he'd been unaffected by them, so she wasn't quite certain, but she took it as a compliment. Elsa looked over her shoulder back at Hans. 

 "I'm sure the sirens are far better at remembering the lyrics," she commented. "I do wish to try to learn them all myself, though" she continued as she turned her whole body on the bench once more to face him again. "I would be grateful if you wrote them down for me sometime, it'd give me something to practice while I relearn to play the piano. I'm surprised I managed to remember how to play at all, it's been ages since I touched a piano."

"I'll write them down for you as soon as I return to my room, then." He assured, lightly. He hadn't been writing letters, but the material had been provided all the same, especially while Hans did paperwork for his actual job of training the Guard, or helping Elsa with her own paperwork. "Some things are difficult to unlearn, I find. It's been a while since I touched a harp, too. Though, I suspect longer for you. You have had the busier life." He wanted to step closer, but that seemed like the wrong thing to do.

"Thank you," she hummed, standing up from the bench. "I guess you never truly forget something like that, even if you  think  you did, a part of you still remembers the  feeling , you just need to touch it again to elicit it." Elsa had taken a few steps toward the harp in front of her, so as she spoke she gently glided her fingers along all the harp strings (like people usually do across all the keys of the piano) just to hear the sound of all the strings being strummed in sequence. She had the temptation to touch the harp herself especially after seeing Hans' fingers fondle the strings so gracefully to create melodic music for her, she wanted to experience the sensation of strumming the strings against her own fingers. Of course with not knowing how to play she believed that the sound she managed to make with her gentle glide was nowhere as lovely as the ones he'd produced while actually playing, yet there was still a bit of that magical essence she thought a harp emitted.

 Hans couldn't help but feel that there was something deeper to what she said, though he wasn't sure what exactly it was. 

 "I imagine your magic feels the same." He mused, without thinking about it. His eyes watched her hands, and he seemed less than attentive as he let his thoughts drift.

"Hm? Feels the same to what? Similar to something you never really forget until you elicit it? I guess you could say that. When I first let it go again, with nothing holding me back, my powers came almost naturally." Elsa wondered if that's what he meant. She followed his gaze. "Or did you mean something else entirely? Something more abstract? Like you imagine my magic feels similar to something like... music?" She slid her fingers along the strings again. "I think that description wouldn't be far off either. Even though it's a bit hard to condense my powers into something completely comprehensible, I think that something like the euphonious sound of music does induce a similar sensation to the one of when I use my magic-- the good kind of magic at least. It's not an exact match, but still music is a lot like magic, I don't know how else to explain it but it kind of makes sense." She shrugged a little, admittedly not knowing exactly where she was going with that.

"The former, but yes. I imagine it does feel a bit like making music. It's strange, but I feel like I have a vague idea what magic would feel like. I suppose in the same way some of us have dreams of flying without ever having flown, some deeper instinct tells us what it should feel like, even if we have no idea?" He couldn't be sure, not could he properly describe it. "Music is a bit like magic, I suppose. From nothing we create emotions and feelings, and all we need is a flexible string or several, or a stick and a hollow thing to make a drum. Gregory would adore this conversation, likening music to magic. He's the real musician of the family." He deeply wanted to rest his hand at the small of her back and hold her. What was getting into him, that he kept having these sudden strange urges to do something unusual and familiar? Nothing outrageous, just to hold her. He wouldn't, obviously. He had no business touching the Queen. Only as she saw fit. He hoped he kept his wits about himself, lest he do something foolish.

Elsa smiled a little at Hans seeming to understand what she meant. "Yes, it's like emanating a manifestation of emotion. Music conveys it through mellifluous sound while magic transforms it into something more tangible," She said with a sparkle in her eyes. Elsa proceeded to create something with her magic. One of her hands swirled over the open palm of the other. She conjured a miniature horse figure that resembled Sitron, she showed and offered it to Hans. Elsa had certainly engrossed herself in the magic talk.

Hans smiled and picked up the little horse, if gingerly. Partly because of the fragile nature of ice, partly because he now knew by experience that it was a bad idea to grip ice for a prolonged period, thanks to his ice sword.

  "I like your artistic side, it's cute." He remarked sweetly. "And I like seeing you get excited about your magic. It certainly is impressive."

That certainly flustered her, Anna was unquestionably the cute one, so being considered cute was new to her, easily making her blush a bit. The combination of all his compliments put her heart in a frenzy and was evidently reflected with the falling snow. 

 "Thank you," she answered with a shy smile. Awkwardly shifting back a bit. "I forget how nice they can be sometimes, since I don't often get the chance to play around with them just for the fun of it. Though I really should do it more often, to test the limits of my powers, I still don't know everything that I'm fully capable of doing with them yet."

"You ought to, you look happy when you're using them." Hans observed, setting the ice horse back down just to preserve his hands, though he still looked at it with fondness. He wore the ice sword at his side, as it was traditional for an Isles man, but he was careful to avoid being near Anna in the halls. 

 "If I had powers like yours, I think I would want to make a dragon. Or Gryphons, things that you'd never see in real life. When you have magic, why not use it to make the world a bit more magical?" He offered with a smile and a shrug. "Or, to start with, maybe a cat. Cats, horses, and dragons." He laughed a little at himself. He truly did like all of those things, as childish as perhaps it was.

Elsa laughed a little herself. She thought it was quite adorable. Not at all surprised that his adventurous heart would wish for things of legend like Dragons and Gryphons. Yet even with the mention of extraordinary magical creatures, for some strange reason that wasn't what had stuck out the most to her. 

 "Hm. I don't think I've ever created a cat before," she mused with her pointer finger on her lips. And without further pondering she promptly constructed a life size sleeping snow kitten cradled in her arms. There was no doubt she was quite fond of animals, though she rarely interacted with them. "The only problem would be where to put your ice creations. If I could decorate the castle entirely with ice I probably would -- have you seen my ice palace? -- but I'm sure everybody else wouldn't appreciate a frozen castle, especially when they aren't unbothered by the cold like I am," she playfully reasoned. What held her back from creating, other than time constraints, was probably her consideration for others, she was sure the eternal winter probably didn't help warm people up to the idea of a forever frozen fixtures.

"I have, if you recall." Hans couldn't help but look down and grimace a little at the memory. "The first time you saw me with a sword drawn, I think." He mused. "We had a stirring conversation, and I think we've had that same conversation a few times, in a few different ways." He didn't think it was a bad thing, but one he found important. Perhaps a little serious. "Sounds like you need your own little icy island. Maybe your ice dragon could take you to the ice palace and your creations could live there. It  was  beautiful. Still there, I imagine?" He hadn't seen it since he'd carried Elsa out of it-- and he thought it was better if he didn't think about that memory. It still hurt to think of all the betrayal he caused in those few days. He couldn't help but watch the kitten fondly. He did love cats. "Have you considered getting a live cat of your own?"

Of course she recalled, his words most of all, they were forever engraved in her memory, the last thing she remembered before it had all turned to black. She saw his grimace and didn't want to dwell on that again right now. 

 "An icy island, I kinda like the sound of that. I might have to venture out and find one," Elsa considered it for a moment. "Still set on trying to sell me on the idea of creating an ice dragon I see," she giggled. "I wouldn't say live, because I would likely only be creating  normal  ice sculptures. To be honest, I'm not comfortable with bringing my creations to life. I made Olaf sentient completely by accident. And the only creation I purposely brought to life was Marshmallow and you know...but even with him I still didn't really know what I was doing. It sort of just happened, willing him to life. Like I said before I don't know the full extent of my own powers," She sighed with a slight shrug, becoming serious and silent for a second. 

 "And yes the Ice Palace still stands, at least last I checked." She looked down at the snow kitten she created and smiled. "As for ever considering getting a real cat, yes, I've pondered about having a feline friend many times. Have I decided whether or not it's wise? No. I still have to weigh the consequences. There's just a lot of things to consider; let's start with the arguments in favor. First of all, cats are absolutely adorable, soft and self-sufficient. They sound like a pretty perfect pet.

"The arguments against them though are a lot less about the cons of a cat and more about whether not I'm worthy of enough to have a cat. Like could I give it enough attention? I wouldn't want to get a cat and never have time for it. Would it even take a liking to me? Especially with I not being the warmest person in the world, I'd be very disappointed if it wouldn't let me touch it. Lastly, should I even take on another responsibility? As much as I'd love to have a cat, is it something I want to take on? I don't know, there's just so many variables," She shrugged. It was very much a battle between the emotional vs rational impacts of owning a cat. Of course she  wanted  a cat, but her queenly side was seeping out asking if she could even handle it or even deserved one.

"You're a Queen, your responsibility to a cat is making sure the service staff likes it, it's not as if you'll be the one to take care of its litter." Hans pointed out dryly. "Truthfully, a cat will make sure you give it exactly as much attention as it wants. The real downsides to you are the hairs it leaves in your dress, and the claw marks it may leave in your clothes, furniture, and skin. I taught the ship's cat to jump up onto my shoulders, so my uniform looks almost as red as it does blue now, from the cat's fur. But it's worth it to me to have the big lug purring in my ear during downtime. I can't speak to the warmth, you may want to keep a hot water bottle on-hand to encourage a cat sitting on your lap. They go to warm places, but if you make friends with a cat, they are friends as long as the cat lives. Dogs stay because you feed them, cats stay because they like you." Hans wasn't much for dogs. He had little against them, but he just preferred cats. Hans was right she was Queen and other people would take care of the cat for her and maybe that was part of her problem with getting one the little involvement she most likely have with it. She'd feel responsible for bringing a cat to the castle than making other people deal with it most of the time, (not that she wanted to deal with its litter, but still) it just wouldn't really feel like  her  cat. It was a bit silly to see things that way. Elsa sighed, taking a seat back down on the bench, placing her snowcat creation on her lap. Looking down at it warmly imagining what it would feel like if it were real.

  "The purring does sound rather nice," she admitted. " But maybe I should get a dog instead. I don't think you're giving them enough credit. They have good qualities as well, like they are also really cute especially with their big eyes and wagging tails. Also they always seem so happy and I heard they are really loyal. Besides there's some dogs that don't mind the cold," she smiled a bit considering that option as well, but it quickly faded. "... or maybe just having an animal companion isn't for me."

"No, dogs certainly have their place. And if you  want  an animal companion, there's no reason you shouldn't have one." He assured, gently. "Some cats don't mind the cold-- but some dogs  adore  it. Some dogs also swim, that's what Newfoundland dogs are like. They even have webbed paws, which is a strange thing for a dog. I've heard they can be mistaken for bears from afar, but I've never met one in person." He shrugged. "If one is to have a dog, a big one seems like a good idea, in my book. But those are just my personal preferences, perhaps you prefer little rat-hunting dogs that pounce like foxes and chase after the voles, it's not mine to say." He shrugged. "They can certainly be cute. They still shed, though, and require regular baths. Cats at least will typically bathe themselves, for better or worse. But our castle never had pets either. We just kept royal stables and hunting hounds, no indoor 'pets'." No wonder he preferred a ship, he could keep a cat there.

She still disagreed about having one just because she wanted one, she couldn't easily ignore all the things she had to consider about having a pet in the first place.

  "I don't think wanting one is enough reason to have one. Maybe in the future," she shrugged "I don't think I'm going to actively be looking for the perfect pet either, but if I someday come across one that completely captures my heart, I might reconsider in a heartbeat." Thinking about and rejecting the idea of a hypothetical animal companion was a lot easier than when an actual adorable living creature is in front of you and you can't resist the enchantment it imprinted on your heart.

"The best animals are the ones that find you, I find." Hans mused. Then he chuckled and cleared his throat. "But maybe that's just the  stray  at your door speaking." He teased, referring to himself. He had been shooed away once, then came back yowling at her door for attention. Somehow, it seemed to have paid off. "You seem to have a soft spot for scraggly red tomcats, as history speaks." He suggested, entirely as a playful joke to get her to roll her eyes. He wasn't a self-described 'fool' for nothing.

 "Perhaps," She let out a snort of suppressed laughter. One hand leaning against her forehead as she gently wagged her head with a downward gaze that almost made her eyes seem shut and a subtle smile on her lips. Her shoulders raised slightly. "Even scraggly red tomcats can make good companions." Maybe she indeed had a soft spot for red tomcats, with piercing green eyes and a playful nature, though scraggly probably wouldn't be one of the words Elsa would use to describe him.

Hans looked away and stifled a giggle, maybe blushing a little. "Ah, damn. I had a funny thought but it would be  very  unprofessional for me to say it out loud." He admitted with a little sheepish shuffle. "I suppose I ought to keep that to myself."

Elsa lifted her gaze to look at him.

  "Oh, now you've made me curious," she hummed with a tilt of her head. "But you're welcome to keep it yourself if you wish." She wouldn't  force  him to be 'unprofessional'.

Hans grinned playfully. "I was going to say 'But I could purr for you too if you like'." He teased, giggling and cringing away like a kid expecting to be hit with a pillow-- or perhaps a snowball would have been more appropriate. It  was  terribly unprofessional. It was downright  flirty  , but he only meant it in a playful way. He was a fool, after all. "Perhaps it  is  professional-- for a Queen's fool to be foolish." He suggested with a grin.

Elsa giggled with another shake of her head. "A fool I can handle, I don't know if I could say the same if you started acting like a cat. Please don't latch onto the idea as your new title or you might end up a stray," she teased.

Hans laughed a little and shook his head. "No... though cats and I do both do well on ships. Actually, that was what my ship was called. The  Conch Cat.  A conch cat is a type of cat with an extra toe, they're supposed to be lucky. With me as the thirteenth prince, we needed all the luck we could get. Have I told you all that before?" He wondered if he wrote that, or if that writing had been something for himself, or one of his scrapped copies.

"Yes, you've told me about the meaning behind your ship's name before," she assured with a nod. "I think back when you were telling me a story about the pirates you faced. I think it was also when you first mentioned a big red cat that resembled you."

"Well, his fur color resembled me. He's probably a lot more surly, but loving when you're warm enough." He assured, with a fond smile. "I do miss having a cat about. Perhaps when I've settled somewhere I'll get one." It was a nice thought. He didn't fancy being alone, and he didn't think he would be living with another person.

Elsa would have loved to meet that curious ship cat Hans remembered so fondly. She smiled, but remained silent, looking back down at her lap, as she lost herself in thought. She was still a bit distraught about the idea of Hans settling somewhere outside the castle walls. Perhaps it was becoming about time for their tea time to conclude.

Hans sensed the rift in the room, and let the silence linger a moment. 

 "I'm in no hurry to move, of course." He assured softly, after a moment. Maybe it was wrong of him to suspect, but he thought for a moment that  that  might be the cause of the silence. "Ah, I shouldn't take up your whole day, I suppose. Much as I enjoy your company." It was so strange to be the one  leaving.  He felt like it was wrong, like he shouldn't be doing that. It seemed impolite. He waited to be excused all the same. He was a prince, and taught to follow the crown's lead. Still, he couldn't help but be a little anxious himself, that perhaps he was doing the wrong thing, still.

"Oh, right," she said as she snapped out of her daze. Disintegrating the snow kitten on her lap into a sparkling flurry as she stood up, rubbing her hands against her skirt of her dress as if to straighten it. "I have paperwork to get back to before dinner." 

 "Thank you once again for joining me for tea. Your harp playing was lovely, I appreciate you playing for me," she acknowledged. "Perhaps, we can do this again sometime."

Hans nodded politely. "Gladly, I enjoyed playing for you. And maybe if I finish writing those lyrics for you, I'll have the chance to hear you sing again?" He proposed with a little smile. He did like to hear her sing. Her voice was beautiful. He tucked his hands behind his back, shifting into the behavior of a servant rather than a prince. The Guardsman rather than the Fool or the Prisoner. 

 "Have a good evening, your Majesty." He took her thanks and invitation as a sign he should leave, so he gave a polite bow and retreated. It was hard to say where or why he had picked up service habits. Part of his mirroring, perhaps?

 A shy smile crossed Elsa's lips at his proposal. 

 "Only if you accompany me on the harp," she called out, before a softer farewell. "Good evening, Hans." Elsa began to leave as well, thinking that it had been a rather odd tea time, not that it was necessarily a bad thing, far more interesting than her solitary ones, just a bit of the typical awkwardness that was bound to happen when they were together.

[quinnyvega]

animal: is siren a thing? sharks color: red blood red  month: october? song: the devil within - digital daggers number: seven day or night: night plant: red algae smell: mint and ocean season: summer food: anything but sea food astrological sign: scorpio element: fire drink: orange juice / soda

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