Post by aurorax on Jun 22, 2009 5:12:33 GMT 10
Title: Scars
Rating: PG
Prompt: #5, Healing
Summary: Duke Baird reflects on Kel and Neal, losing his sons. And begins to heal. Not as sad as it started out.
They had died doing their duty to country and crown, honoring their family name and making their teachers and training master proud. They had died heroes. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen death before; no, of anyone in the country, he was perhaps the most familiar with the Black God’s barren gates. But it had never hit so close to home.
At first, the others admired his dedication, returning to work so soon after the tragedy. To lose two sons in one battle. Then, as one late night blurred into the next, full of endless rows of dead and dying, the whispers started. He didn’t notice; he was too busy, trying to save just one more.
This one stood out amongst all the others, because it was his son, and because it was the girl. His last remaining son, still caught up in that silly idea of his about becoming a knight. If Baird had his way, there would be no more knights. And maybe no more letters to young wives and bereft mothers. No more heroes.
Neal looked protectively down at his young charge, much more concerned than she was about the colorful bruises blossoming across her face and arms. Well, Nealan had always needed a project, and he had always loved to keep the world on its toes. If he wanted to watch over this one, he was going to have a time of it, that much was clear. But he was glad to see the boy caring again.
There were so many different ways of surviving, confronting, coping…of maybe, with time, healing. Yes, she would be good for him.
Years had passed, and now there was a new war, a new group of young men to patch back into the nearest possible semblance of their former selves, knowing that nothing ever fit back together perfectly. There would always be scars.
It brought back the old memories, the ones that he could never quite keep buried. The whispers had stopped, yes- he had gotten better at hiding it. But he wouldn’t be able to go through it again; if he lost Neal, it would be over. The others had ridden out, just as strong, just as brave, their shields just as new, untried. And they had never ridden back.
Watching his son ride up to Kel’s side, watching as she patiently reminded him to bring his sword, his compass, his water flask, Baird could only hope that she would always be there to look after him. Because Neal needed it, that was for sure. And he had been right, all those years before- she was certainly good for him.
Rating: PG
Prompt: #5, Healing
Summary: Duke Baird reflects on Kel and Neal, losing his sons. And begins to heal. Not as sad as it started out.
They had died doing their duty to country and crown, honoring their family name and making their teachers and training master proud. They had died heroes. And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen death before; no, of anyone in the country, he was perhaps the most familiar with the Black God’s barren gates. But it had never hit so close to home.
At first, the others admired his dedication, returning to work so soon after the tragedy. To lose two sons in one battle. Then, as one late night blurred into the next, full of endless rows of dead and dying, the whispers started. He didn’t notice; he was too busy, trying to save just one more.
This one stood out amongst all the others, because it was his son, and because it was the girl. His last remaining son, still caught up in that silly idea of his about becoming a knight. If Baird had his way, there would be no more knights. And maybe no more letters to young wives and bereft mothers. No more heroes.
Neal looked protectively down at his young charge, much more concerned than she was about the colorful bruises blossoming across her face and arms. Well, Nealan had always needed a project, and he had always loved to keep the world on its toes. If he wanted to watch over this one, he was going to have a time of it, that much was clear. But he was glad to see the boy caring again.
There were so many different ways of surviving, confronting, coping…of maybe, with time, healing. Yes, she would be good for him.
Years had passed, and now there was a new war, a new group of young men to patch back into the nearest possible semblance of their former selves, knowing that nothing ever fit back together perfectly. There would always be scars.
It brought back the old memories, the ones that he could never quite keep buried. The whispers had stopped, yes- he had gotten better at hiding it. But he wouldn’t be able to go through it again; if he lost Neal, it would be over. The others had ridden out, just as strong, just as brave, their shields just as new, untried. And they had never ridden back.
Watching his son ride up to Kel’s side, watching as she patiently reminded him to bring his sword, his compass, his water flask, Baird could only hope that she would always be there to look after him. Because Neal needed it, that was for sure. And he had been right, all those years before- she was certainly good for him.
and it's really depressing to think of Neal's death, and how close he and his father are, and it's a bit like a punch because it feels real.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!