Work Text:
“Hmm, he looks good, don’t you think?” Frieren hummed, holding her chin as she gave her own statement some more thought.
“H-hey…” Stark whined quietly.
“I’m not sure, Frieren-sama,” Fern added, tilting her head before exchanging glances between the canvas and the model, “mr. Stark looks… unlike him in the drawing.”
“...can you two stop?” Stark sighed, feeling the heat spread over his cheeks. Thankfully, the painter didn’t seem to listen to the girls’ chatter - or, if he did, he didn’t mind it.
Still, this whole modeling thing wasn’t so bad. Frieren couldn’t help but reminisce about a similar situation in her previous adventure, even if Himmel wouldn’t be so shy while striking pose after pose for whoever was sculpting or painting a portrait of him.
This was Stark’s first time taking such a job and the poor warrior couldn’t help but cringe at the idea of doing it in front of Fern and Frieren, but ended up obliging to the village’s request in the end.
“I see what you mean,” Frieren mused, walking closer to the ‘model’ with Fern following right behind her. They took turns walking in circles around the stone where Stark currently stood on top of, their eyes scanning him from head to toe as if looking for something. “Maybe try to lift the ax a little higher-”
“H-hehey!” Stark let out a helpless squeal, giggling nervously when Frieren poked his lower side with her staff in her attempt to instruct him. “D-don’t do thAH-”
“No, I think mr. Stark needs to lower his knee a little, to look like he is striking something,” Fern said, mimicking her master and using her staff to prod the back of Stark’s knee.
“C-cahan you two stohop?!” Stark groaned while swinging the - thankfully fake - ax around the stone, trying to fend off the pokes that seem to come from everywhere.
“Do this”, “do that”, the girls said over and over and he couldn’t help but think they were doing that on purpose, nitpicking details about the pose he first decided on just to mess with him.
“P-plehease! Just tehehell me what to dohoho!”
“We are doing it, thought,” Frieren retorted, pressing her staff against Stark’s back to prevent him from falling off the stone. “You’re just not listening to us.”
“B-because you ahahare tihihickling me!”
“No, we are not,” Fern added, her voice cold that comment seemed to fluster - or was it upset? - her for some reason, “don’t distort things into your fantasies, mr. Stark.”
“Caham,” the painter finally broke into their banter, faking a cough, “lady Frieren, lady Fern, your staffs are getting in the way of my view of the model. Could you step back for a moment?”
“Ah, I apologize,” Frieren hummed, tapping the ground with her staff and nodding at the painter’s request, “I guess we got too distracted while having fun.”
“It’s nothing to worry about. If you’d like to kill some time while I finish the work, feel free to take a walk around the village. I’m sure you’ll find something to entertain yourself.”