Post by Minuit on Feb 1, 2010 18:15:02 GMT 10
Title: Challenge
Rating: G
Length: 681
Character: Wyldon
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Wyldon is enraged, and defends Kel's honour.
A/N: Ok, I fail at short fics.
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That knight from Tusaine was really beginning to get on Lord Wyldon’s nerves. He gritted his teeth, and stepped through the familiar strokes with his sword, trying to ignore the delegation of Tusaine knights on the other side of the practice courts.
“Lady Knight Keladry? I would barely call her a lady. Why she’s as tall as most men and has muscles like one too. Now the Lioness, on the other hand, at least she’s built like a woman, small and curvy.” A particularly stupid drunken knight laughed to his friends. Someone had obviously partied until the late hours of the morning, and decided to simply keep partying through practice too, Wyldon thought snidely to himself. Glaring at the man’s back, Wyldon stopped his sword practice and considered his options. It wouldn’t do to create animosity between Tortall and Tusaine now, especially given the current situation with Scanra.
“I suppose she had to become a knight hadn’t she? What noble man would want such a wife? More suited to a commoner I’d say.” The stupid man waved his sword around and laughed uproariously, not noticing the sudden deathly silence falling across the practice court. Eyes turned toward Lord Wyldon, who had his hand clenched so hard around his sword his knuckles were sheer white. Some swore they could see veins popping out, from him gritting his teeth so hard. But it was his eyes that had everyone swallow fearfully and step away. Those eyes, normally hard and unyielding, now glinted with a cold, deadly fire. This stupid foreign knight was a dead man.
Without conscious thought, Wyldon took two big strides, seized the dead man by his neck, and flung him to the fence before anyone could blink. “What is the meaning of this...” The knight slurred, as his buddies fumbled for their swords.
In answer, Wyldon punched him in the face – hard enough to break the man’s nose. Thrusting the point of his sword against the stupid drunkard’s neck, Wyldon spoke. “You dishonour not only yourself, but your countrymen, by insulting one of the finest and most honourable knights of the realm in which you are a guest. Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan is a hundred times a better knight than you are, and does not deserve such disgusting insults. You need to be taught a lesson.” When the Tusaine knight tried to get up, Wyldon pressed his sword further, drawing a speck of blood. The knight froze.
“What right have you to teach me a lesson?”
“I have every right!” Wyldon snarled and flexed his arm, then took a deep breath and steadied himself. “But Lady Knight Keladry should have satisfaction from you first. You will apologise to her in person, for the grave insult you have dealt her – by tomorrow. If you do not do this to my satisfaction, then you shall meet me on the jousting courts.” By a great exercise of restraint, Wyldon stepped back and lowered his sword. “Is that clear?”
The drunken fool stood up, and tried to lunge at Wyldon. This time, his friends prevented him from doing such a foolish act. Even they have heard of Lord Wyldon of Cavall’s prowess with the lance. They were stupid, but not quite stupid enough to willingly tilt against Lord Wyldon. Murmuring assurances that they would make the proper apologies to Lady Knight Keladry, they dragged their friend away.
Wyldon tried to take a deep calming breath, and failed. Cursing softly, he turned and strode out of the practice courts, rage blinding him to the amazed stares of the other knights. He didn’t see her standing there until he’d crashed into her. About to utter some vague apology and walk past, the chirp of a sparrow made him stop. Taking his gaze off the ground, he met startled eyes. He had no idea how long she’d been standing there. But from the expression on her face, she must have heard most of it. “Lady Knight Keladry.” Wyldon bowed abruptly, and got out of there before he made any more of a fool out of himself.
Rating: G
Length: 681
Character: Wyldon
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Wyldon is enraged, and defends Kel's honour.
A/N: Ok, I fail at short fics.
-----
That knight from Tusaine was really beginning to get on Lord Wyldon’s nerves. He gritted his teeth, and stepped through the familiar strokes with his sword, trying to ignore the delegation of Tusaine knights on the other side of the practice courts.
“Lady Knight Keladry? I would barely call her a lady. Why she’s as tall as most men and has muscles like one too. Now the Lioness, on the other hand, at least she’s built like a woman, small and curvy.” A particularly stupid drunken knight laughed to his friends. Someone had obviously partied until the late hours of the morning, and decided to simply keep partying through practice too, Wyldon thought snidely to himself. Glaring at the man’s back, Wyldon stopped his sword practice and considered his options. It wouldn’t do to create animosity between Tortall and Tusaine now, especially given the current situation with Scanra.
“I suppose she had to become a knight hadn’t she? What noble man would want such a wife? More suited to a commoner I’d say.” The stupid man waved his sword around and laughed uproariously, not noticing the sudden deathly silence falling across the practice court. Eyes turned toward Lord Wyldon, who had his hand clenched so hard around his sword his knuckles were sheer white. Some swore they could see veins popping out, from him gritting his teeth so hard. But it was his eyes that had everyone swallow fearfully and step away. Those eyes, normally hard and unyielding, now glinted with a cold, deadly fire. This stupid foreign knight was a dead man.
Without conscious thought, Wyldon took two big strides, seized the dead man by his neck, and flung him to the fence before anyone could blink. “What is the meaning of this...” The knight slurred, as his buddies fumbled for their swords.
In answer, Wyldon punched him in the face – hard enough to break the man’s nose. Thrusting the point of his sword against the stupid drunkard’s neck, Wyldon spoke. “You dishonour not only yourself, but your countrymen, by insulting one of the finest and most honourable knights of the realm in which you are a guest. Lady Knight Keladry of Mindelan is a hundred times a better knight than you are, and does not deserve such disgusting insults. You need to be taught a lesson.” When the Tusaine knight tried to get up, Wyldon pressed his sword further, drawing a speck of blood. The knight froze.
“What right have you to teach me a lesson?”
“I have every right!” Wyldon snarled and flexed his arm, then took a deep breath and steadied himself. “But Lady Knight Keladry should have satisfaction from you first. You will apologise to her in person, for the grave insult you have dealt her – by tomorrow. If you do not do this to my satisfaction, then you shall meet me on the jousting courts.” By a great exercise of restraint, Wyldon stepped back and lowered his sword. “Is that clear?”
The drunken fool stood up, and tried to lunge at Wyldon. This time, his friends prevented him from doing such a foolish act. Even they have heard of Lord Wyldon of Cavall’s prowess with the lance. They were stupid, but not quite stupid enough to willingly tilt against Lord Wyldon. Murmuring assurances that they would make the proper apologies to Lady Knight Keladry, they dragged their friend away.
Wyldon tried to take a deep calming breath, and failed. Cursing softly, he turned and strode out of the practice courts, rage blinding him to the amazed stares of the other knights. He didn’t see her standing there until he’d crashed into her. About to utter some vague apology and walk past, the chirp of a sparrow made him stop. Taking his gaze off the ground, he met startled eyes. He had no idea how long she’d been standing there. But from the expression on her face, she must have heard most of it. “Lady Knight Keladry.” Wyldon bowed abruptly, and got out of there before he made any more of a fool out of himself.