Post by jazzyjess on Apr 9, 2011 7:54:55 GMT 10
Title: Ghost
Rating: G
Word Count: 567
Pairing: Raoul/Sabine
Round/Fight: 1G
Summary: Raoul has a ghost on his shoulder.
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One day when Raoul is eight, he wakes up to a room full of shadows and darkness. In one corner, his wardrobe looms, casting a dark shadow toward his bed and making him pull the blanket tighter around his chin. His dog is sitting by the door, a low rumbling in the back of his big, dark throat. “Cane,” he hisses, not a little terrified, because he has never heard the dog growl in such a menacing way before. There is nothing in his room that should be so threatening. Raoul is afraid to sit up, but he’s a big boy and going to the palace in a little while for page training, and he knows that the other pages wouldn’t be afraid so he makes himself sit upright. He sees a glimpse of something out the corner of his eye, but even though he turns his head, it stays only in his peripheral vision – a flash here, another there.
“Who’s there?” he whispers, trying to ignore the way his voice shakes. “I’ll send my dog after you!”
You’re mine.
It isn’t a voice so much as a sigh of the wind as it blows in suddenly through his open window. He abandons the grown-up courage and dives under his blankets.
In the morning, Raoul goes to his mother and tells her everything. He’s never felt any hesitation in spilling his soul to her – he could never dream of going to his father, his father with his practical notions and his conservative ideals. His father has no time for the dreams of children. But his mother sits and smiles as he tells her his story, and he doesn’t leave anything out. He tells her of the night sounds and the wind on a windless night, and of the pale presence he can’t quite see.
The best part about his mother is that there’s nothing she doesn’t have the answer to.
“You have a ghost,” she tells him very matter-of-factly, and she speaks to him with the voice she uses to talk to other adults, not the voice meant for small children, like his aunts use.
“A ghost?” he asks.
His mother disappears for a moment, then returns with a small, framed portrait. “Do you know who this is?” she asks gently, and Raoul peers at it, shaking his head. “Her name is Sabine. She was a knight.”
“She?” he bursts out, shocked. “Girls can’t be knights!”
“Long ago, they could.” His mother smiles down at him. “And she was the best. The king even thought so. She was his squire. She died a very long time ago, but she comes to visit the children sometimes. You see, she’s my grandmother’s grandmother’s mother. And sometimes, just sometimes, she sees something she likes in one of the children of her family.”
“What does she do when she picks them?”
“She sits on their shoulder and whispers to them.”
Raoul doesn’t know just how he feels about a dead person sitting on him, but the next time he sees that flash of pale light just beyond his vision, he speaks out loud. “Hello, grandmama,” he says politely, just like he’s been taught, and continues to shovel manure out of the horse paddock. “I hope you are well today. I have much work to do today, but you’re welcome to keep me company.”
Good boy, breathes the wind. Together, we learn.
QC by PeroxidePirate
Rating: G
Word Count: 567
Pairing: Raoul/Sabine
Round/Fight: 1G
Summary: Raoul has a ghost on his shoulder.
-
One day when Raoul is eight, he wakes up to a room full of shadows and darkness. In one corner, his wardrobe looms, casting a dark shadow toward his bed and making him pull the blanket tighter around his chin. His dog is sitting by the door, a low rumbling in the back of his big, dark throat. “Cane,” he hisses, not a little terrified, because he has never heard the dog growl in such a menacing way before. There is nothing in his room that should be so threatening. Raoul is afraid to sit up, but he’s a big boy and going to the palace in a little while for page training, and he knows that the other pages wouldn’t be afraid so he makes himself sit upright. He sees a glimpse of something out the corner of his eye, but even though he turns his head, it stays only in his peripheral vision – a flash here, another there.
“Who’s there?” he whispers, trying to ignore the way his voice shakes. “I’ll send my dog after you!”
You’re mine.
It isn’t a voice so much as a sigh of the wind as it blows in suddenly through his open window. He abandons the grown-up courage and dives under his blankets.
In the morning, Raoul goes to his mother and tells her everything. He’s never felt any hesitation in spilling his soul to her – he could never dream of going to his father, his father with his practical notions and his conservative ideals. His father has no time for the dreams of children. But his mother sits and smiles as he tells her his story, and he doesn’t leave anything out. He tells her of the night sounds and the wind on a windless night, and of the pale presence he can’t quite see.
The best part about his mother is that there’s nothing she doesn’t have the answer to.
“You have a ghost,” she tells him very matter-of-factly, and she speaks to him with the voice she uses to talk to other adults, not the voice meant for small children, like his aunts use.
“A ghost?” he asks.
His mother disappears for a moment, then returns with a small, framed portrait. “Do you know who this is?” she asks gently, and Raoul peers at it, shaking his head. “Her name is Sabine. She was a knight.”
“She?” he bursts out, shocked. “Girls can’t be knights!”
“Long ago, they could.” His mother smiles down at him. “And she was the best. The king even thought so. She was his squire. She died a very long time ago, but she comes to visit the children sometimes. You see, she’s my grandmother’s grandmother’s mother. And sometimes, just sometimes, she sees something she likes in one of the children of her family.”
“What does she do when she picks them?”
“She sits on their shoulder and whispers to them.”
Raoul doesn’t know just how he feels about a dead person sitting on him, but the next time he sees that flash of pale light just beyond his vision, he speaks out loud. “Hello, grandmama,” he says politely, just like he’s been taught, and continues to shovel manure out of the horse paddock. “I hope you are well today. I have much work to do today, but you’re welcome to keep me company.”
Good boy, breathes the wind. Together, we learn.
QC by PeroxidePirate