Things I Wrote at One Time or Another

The Arcana; "A Magician in Sedona AU"

𝐀/N: an AU where Luca's the eldest Sedonian prince and Asra, a wandering magician, is appointed as Luca's master in magic. There are maybe three chapters that sprouted from this thing but I'm iffy about posting them cuz I don't like them that much.

"Justified be the wiles of women,
for when the riverbed bends
a hand to her breast,
lest she cries thus—"

The Prince tickled his bottom lip with the end of his fountain pen. For hours he had been staring down at the same four lines, hoping the end of its stanza would come and strike the page. However, his brain can't be bothered to figure it out. "What on Earth does she cry, Sita?" He called down to the Tigress below him. He was elevated on a branch from one of the many trees placed in his father's manicured and gigantic Green House. The tigress lifted her head in disinterest, her eyes staring blankly back at him.

"You're right," he says, knocking his head back against the trunk. "I'll just tell Vincent you ate the rest of it." He tore the rest of the paper, shoving it and his pen into his pocket before preparing himself. To get down the Royal Architect, Issa, had assisted him in constructing a pulley system within the tree's branches for a safe and quick ascent or descent.

He bit the paper between his lips and grabbed a rope that dangled by the end of his branch. Sliding a foot in the loop, he held on tightly as he leapt from the branch and descended quickly down. The rope, thick as it was, supported his weight until it was taut and Luca could step safely down. From the other side of the tree a weight was released, landing in a safe area away from other animals.

Sita followed him out of the green house and out into the intricate gardens. He basked in the sunlight as it poured down on them, Sita's headdress glinting beside him. They navigated their way through the maze of flowers, sculptures, and freshly cut bushes until they found themselves at the east exit—where they subsequently found Vincent waiting for them. Displeased.

"Good morning, Vincent—I finished my poem, however, Sita here has sadly eaten most of it . . ." Luca said, glancing down at his tigress in feigned frustration. Sita growled, displeased herself with Luca's awful acting. She walked away just as Vincent spoke, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

"Really? I didn't expect you to get it done at all—you must've worked hard on it, I know it was a difficult prompt," he said, surprisingly understanding. Luca was taken aback for a moment, before nodding.

"Yes, I practically stayed up all night trying to come up with it—" he lied, "but once I had it it just flowed, you know?" He smiled.

Vincent smirked, "Then perhaps you can recite it for me?"

Luca's smile faltered, "Recite my poem?"

"Yes." His young professor said, a devilish grin on his lips.

"Uh—"

"Come on now, you can't remember it?"

"Not all of it—"

"Well, then just recite the first three stanzas, that should be easy." Vincent leaned in, expectant. He has assigned nine stanzas, a poem in the style of Harrison Finch, and a reflection of one of society's minor casts. He had also asked for it to be in iambic meter but he knew Luca could never pull something like that off.

"Alright . . Um, lets see—" he was leaning away from Vincent, his anxiety letting his memory forgo the presence of the first stanza in his pocket.

"The wiles of women— J-Justified be the wiles of women . . " he corrected himself, Vincent backed off a bit, listening intently. "For when the riverbed . . . Bends . . A hand to her breast—and she cries this—" he paused, his eyes darting around. A bird takes off in flight above them—" she cries . . . Man will be blind to the birds above them!" A nervous smile curled on his lips in a desperate attempt to settle Vincent's disappointment.

The young professor stared at him for a good minute before grasping at his forehead in desperation. "That's it—I'm done for." He mumbled, exasperated.

"What—"

"Your father has called council, he sent me to find you— I believe he's going to fire me." Vincent's expression was a solemn one.

"What—why?" Luca asked, shocked to see Vincent appear so vulnerable. He reaches a hand out to hold his shoulder but Vincent swats it away.

"Because you're an idiot!" He exclaimed, "you are the brightest yet utterly dullest man I've ever met—"

"Is this a compliment or an insult?"

"For Christ's sake—"

"What about Adrien, you're good with him!"

"I'm not his professor— I'm yours! Thank God Adrien has his head screwed on tight—you, you're likely to forget where you left it—" he remembered something in that moment. "Shit, come on—"