Post by infinite on Mar 13, 2011 0:29:48 GMT 10
Title: The Sunset Room
Rating: G
Word Count: 650
Pairing: Jon/Zahir; Team Bend - A - Lot
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Zahir looks west over the desert.
The sun here was so brilliant over the sand, you could see the rays themselves. It was too much; he had to force his eyes open as he stared toward the horizon. Zahir stood into the Sunset Room and watched the Black City, as many had done before him. The Bazhir no longer needed to watch the city, and the Sunset Room was often empty these days, but Zahir couldn’t make himself leave.
He hadn’t even been born yet, when Jonathan had gone to the Black City. Zahir had never grown up to fear the Nameless Ones, but he often thought of them, these days, and their defeat. And the Night One.
He heard a crunch behind him. The sand which blew in through the open west wall of the room settled on the floor and made it impossible to tread quietly.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been here all day.” Jonathan had come to stand beside him. “When I told you to take a day of rest, I meant for you to rest. What are you doing up here again?”
Zahir hadn’t bowed, or even turned to look at Jon; that was unusual.
“Why are you so consumed with that city? Do I need to get you out of this room with extra work?”
“No, sire. I mean, you can give me as much work as you require, sire.”
But…
“You were five years younger than I am now, when you went to the Black City...”
“Zahir, look at me.” Jon’s voice was sharp, but Zahir didn’t obey immediately. Jon reached out a hand and forcibly turned the boy’s face toward himself, and away from the city. “Zahir, listen to me. That city is evil. Do not even think of going there. “
It’s not the city. It’s you.
“Not because you’re curious, not because you’re in awe. Of it or - or of me. Neither of us deserve your awe; the city is a graveyard and I had help from the Gods. Alanna and I are just humans, we never could have defeated the Ysandir by ourselves, not at any age. I am not the Night One. I am Jonathan.
No matter what you say, it was still you.
“You’re being modest,” Zahir mumbled, and he only said it because he knew Jon would see through him regardless.
“This is not modesty, Zahir. Modesty be damned! It’s the truth and you need to know it.”
Zahir tried to turn back to the city but Jon still gripped his chin, and he wouldn’t allow it.
“I don’t want you coming back here. I’m going to tell the governor not to let you in anymore. Will you heed that?”
Zahir couldn’t say yes.
“I’ll know if you’ve come back here, and not just because I’ll set spies on you if I have to. Will you obey me?”
Zahir managed a nod.
“Not good enough.”
“Y – yes, I’ll obey.”
“Alright. Let’s go, then”
Before they left, they both turned back to look at the city. Zahir longed to know what Jon thought as looked blankly at the place he had defeated the Ysandir. But it was Jon who looked away first, and surveyed the room in which they stood. The ornate walls had ben degraded by wind and light and sand, and many of the images which had previously depicted the power of the Nameless Ones were no longer discernable. They were not vivid as Jon remembered them, and he wondered whether centuries of time and weather had rushed to catch up with them in the decades since he had been here.
“These tiles should be preserved,” he remarked, as he steered Zahir out by the shoulders, “They won’t last more than a few years like this. Do you think we should have glass panes installed to keep the sand out?”
“That isn’t the point of the Sunset Room, sire. Even now.”
QC by: greenie
Rating: G
Word Count: 650
Pairing: Jon/Zahir; Team Bend - A - Lot
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Zahir looks west over the desert.
The sun here was so brilliant over the sand, you could see the rays themselves. It was too much; he had to force his eyes open as he stared toward the horizon. Zahir stood into the Sunset Room and watched the Black City, as many had done before him. The Bazhir no longer needed to watch the city, and the Sunset Room was often empty these days, but Zahir couldn’t make himself leave.
He hadn’t even been born yet, when Jonathan had gone to the Black City. Zahir had never grown up to fear the Nameless Ones, but he often thought of them, these days, and their defeat. And the Night One.
He heard a crunch behind him. The sand which blew in through the open west wall of the room settled on the floor and made it impossible to tread quietly.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been here all day.” Jonathan had come to stand beside him. “When I told you to take a day of rest, I meant for you to rest. What are you doing up here again?”
Zahir hadn’t bowed, or even turned to look at Jon; that was unusual.
“Why are you so consumed with that city? Do I need to get you out of this room with extra work?”
“No, sire. I mean, you can give me as much work as you require, sire.”
But…
“You were five years younger than I am now, when you went to the Black City...”
“Zahir, look at me.” Jon’s voice was sharp, but Zahir didn’t obey immediately. Jon reached out a hand and forcibly turned the boy’s face toward himself, and away from the city. “Zahir, listen to me. That city is evil. Do not even think of going there. “
It’s not the city. It’s you.
“Not because you’re curious, not because you’re in awe. Of it or - or of me. Neither of us deserve your awe; the city is a graveyard and I had help from the Gods. Alanna and I are just humans, we never could have defeated the Ysandir by ourselves, not at any age. I am not the Night One. I am Jonathan.
No matter what you say, it was still you.
“You’re being modest,” Zahir mumbled, and he only said it because he knew Jon would see through him regardless.
“This is not modesty, Zahir. Modesty be damned! It’s the truth and you need to know it.”
Zahir tried to turn back to the city but Jon still gripped his chin, and he wouldn’t allow it.
“I don’t want you coming back here. I’m going to tell the governor not to let you in anymore. Will you heed that?”
Zahir couldn’t say yes.
“I’ll know if you’ve come back here, and not just because I’ll set spies on you if I have to. Will you obey me?”
Zahir managed a nod.
“Not good enough.”
“Y – yes, I’ll obey.”
“Alright. Let’s go, then”
Before they left, they both turned back to look at the city. Zahir longed to know what Jon thought as looked blankly at the place he had defeated the Ysandir. But it was Jon who looked away first, and surveyed the room in which they stood. The ornate walls had ben degraded by wind and light and sand, and many of the images which had previously depicted the power of the Nameless Ones were no longer discernable. They were not vivid as Jon remembered them, and he wondered whether centuries of time and weather had rushed to catch up with them in the decades since he had been here.
“These tiles should be preserved,” he remarked, as he steered Zahir out by the shoulders, “They won’t last more than a few years like this. Do you think we should have glass panes installed to keep the sand out?”
“That isn’t the point of the Sunset Room, sire. Even now.”
QC by: greenie