Post by jazzyjess on Feb 17, 2010 14:37:19 GMT 10
Title: And In The End
Rating: G
Length: 314
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: To grieve is easier when it’s shared.
-
She found him in the gardens. There were few people in outside so close to nightfall, but Raoul was sitting on a bench in a secluded corner, slumped forward with his head in his hands. As she came closer, Kel could see a goblet next to him and wondered if it was cider or if he’d broken his personal oath of sobriety.
“Sir,” she called, hesitating when he didn’t move at all. “Sir, may I sit down?” His broad shoulders moved slightly in what Kel took as a shrug of indifference, and as she moved the goblet from her seat, caught the strong smell of cider without any hint of brandy. For a minute she was silent, holding that goblet and swirling its contents, before she set it on the ground at her feet and leaned against the shoulder of her former knight-master.
“I know it isn’t really the same,” she said suddenly, “but my brother Avinar died last year. He used to be a scholar, but for all the knowledge he had in his head, he couldn’t manage to avoid getting a knife in his ribs.”
“Those are bandits for you.”
Startled, Kel looked up, watched Raoul scrub his hands over his face and through his hair before leaning forward with a sigh and resting his elbows on his knees. “For all the knowledge in her head, she couldn’t manage to take time for a healer.”
His words were bitter. Kel took his hand in her own. “The sickness spread fast,” she replied. “I doubt even Duke Baird could have helped her in the end.”
“I know.”
For a long time, they sat there, an aging man clinging to a woman in her thirties as if she were a life raft and he could either hang on or be drowned. They didn’t speak into the silence, but in the end, they didn’t have to.
Rating: G
Length: 314
Competitor: Raoul
Round/Fight: 1/C
Summary: To grieve is easier when it’s shared.
-
She found him in the gardens. There were few people in outside so close to nightfall, but Raoul was sitting on a bench in a secluded corner, slumped forward with his head in his hands. As she came closer, Kel could see a goblet next to him and wondered if it was cider or if he’d broken his personal oath of sobriety.
“Sir,” she called, hesitating when he didn’t move at all. “Sir, may I sit down?” His broad shoulders moved slightly in what Kel took as a shrug of indifference, and as she moved the goblet from her seat, caught the strong smell of cider without any hint of brandy. For a minute she was silent, holding that goblet and swirling its contents, before she set it on the ground at her feet and leaned against the shoulder of her former knight-master.
“I know it isn’t really the same,” she said suddenly, “but my brother Avinar died last year. He used to be a scholar, but for all the knowledge he had in his head, he couldn’t manage to avoid getting a knife in his ribs.”
“Those are bandits for you.”
Startled, Kel looked up, watched Raoul scrub his hands over his face and through his hair before leaning forward with a sigh and resting his elbows on his knees. “For all the knowledge in her head, she couldn’t manage to take time for a healer.”
His words were bitter. Kel took his hand in her own. “The sickness spread fast,” she replied. “I doubt even Duke Baird could have helped her in the end.”
“I know.”
For a long time, they sat there, an aging man clinging to a woman in her thirties as if she were a life raft and he could either hang on or be drowned. They didn’t speak into the silence, but in the end, they didn’t have to.
I really appreciate the comments.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!