Post by wordy on Mar 10, 2011 14:14:46 GMT 10
Title: C is for Corpse
Rating: G
Word Count: 272
Pairing: Jon/Zahir – Team Bend-a-lot
Round/Fight: 1A
Summary: (n) a dead body
He’s spent so much time feeling confined and skittish, like a horse fighting the bit, that the thought of going on Progress is a decidedly welcome one. It will be boring and uneventful, he tries to remind himself, but at least they’ll be out of the palace and actually doing something.
And one day, perhaps it’s that he’s more eager for some kind of action, a skirmish—anything—he breaks his silence and just asks. “How old were you when you first killed a man?”
Jonathan glances over at him, and Zahir can tell that he’s caught him completely off-guard, though he hides it well. The sound of thousands of hooves manages to cover the brief silence that follows, and Zahir looks down at his horse’s mane while he waits for Jonathan to say something.
“I was eighteen,” he says eventually. “I was ready – ready to fight, and to kill. Or so I thought.” He shrugs and looks across at Zahir, his expression turning serious. “It doesn’t matter if you think you’re ready to kill another person, or if you think you’re not. What it comes down to is the moment when you’re standing in front of someone who’s prepared to kill you. If you hesitate, you die.”
Jonathan turns back to watching the road, looking not at all disturbed by the thought of having to kill another human being. Sometimes Zahir wonders what his knight master is really thinking, and if there is more behind his words than what he says. But for now, he returns his gaze to his horse’s mane, a slight frown creasing his forehead. I won’t die.
QC by: journeycat
Rating: G
Word Count: 272
Pairing: Jon/Zahir – Team Bend-a-lot
Round/Fight: 1A
Summary: (n) a dead body
He’s spent so much time feeling confined and skittish, like a horse fighting the bit, that the thought of going on Progress is a decidedly welcome one. It will be boring and uneventful, he tries to remind himself, but at least they’ll be out of the palace and actually doing something.
And one day, perhaps it’s that he’s more eager for some kind of action, a skirmish—anything—he breaks his silence and just asks. “How old were you when you first killed a man?”
Jonathan glances over at him, and Zahir can tell that he’s caught him completely off-guard, though he hides it well. The sound of thousands of hooves manages to cover the brief silence that follows, and Zahir looks down at his horse’s mane while he waits for Jonathan to say something.
“I was eighteen,” he says eventually. “I was ready – ready to fight, and to kill. Or so I thought.” He shrugs and looks across at Zahir, his expression turning serious. “It doesn’t matter if you think you’re ready to kill another person, or if you think you’re not. What it comes down to is the moment when you’re standing in front of someone who’s prepared to kill you. If you hesitate, you die.”
Jonathan turns back to watching the road, looking not at all disturbed by the thought of having to kill another human being. Sometimes Zahir wonders what his knight master is really thinking, and if there is more behind his words than what he says. But for now, he returns his gaze to his horse’s mane, a slight frown creasing his forehead. I won’t die.
QC by: journeycat