Post by Katty on Oct 14, 2011 22:52:21 GMT 10
Title: Family Affair
Rating: PG
Words: 489
Prompt: Crooked Hearts (#53)
Summary: Familial obligations can conflict; a young Roger of Conte is caught in the middle of a King that was and a King that will be.
Note: Thank you to Rosie for A) inspiring me and B) putting up such a rocking prompt!
Duke Roger of Conte toyed with the jeweled sash on his chest. It was heavy and awkward, and far too big for his five-year-old frame. He was only made to wear it when he dined with the King. He ran his fingers along its length, feeling the bumps of sapphires and rubies, and pinching the spaces between them. The fidgeting gave him comfort; there was something reassuring about the jewels, a warm hum that seemed to envelope his hands.
He looked up, and caught the eye of Prince Roald. The young man smiled at him, and Roger smiled back. Roger liked his uncle Roald; he was quiet and kind, and he told good stories. Not war stories, like the grizzly ones told by the King, but stories of wizards, and pretty ladies, and even magic pumpkins. Roald talked wistfully of lands where there was no war, and where people who were unhappy soon became happy. His stories all had neat endings.
“What are you doing, boy?” came a gruff voice to his left. Roger turned to face his grandfather.
“Nothing, Your Majesty,” he answered, reaching forward to pick up his forgotten fork.
Jasson fixed his beady blue eyes on him, grey eyebrows cast down in a disapproving glare. “Good,” he grunted. He nodded toward Roald. “The last thing the kingdom needs is another dreamer who wants to fix the world’s ills”. He let out a snort of derision.
Roald coloured a deep red. “Wanting the realm to see a summer free of war is not a silly dream, father,” he replied politely, struggling to maintain his composure. “War is a way of life in Tortall, when we could just as easily see peace.”
The King shook his head, bemused. “Pleas for peace are for the weak, and for those who are losing. When you win, you press onward and conquer.” He leant forward, towards Roald, and paused for a moment. “We are not losing, son.”
Roald did not reply; he just stared at his father with a look Roger did not understand. It was as if his uncle was both angry and sad at the same time. Roger clutched his fork, unsure what to do.
Jasson drank heavily from the goblet in front of him, draining it in one long gulp. The King wiped his mouth on his sleeve – soldier manners, his uncle Roald had once called it, when Roger had tried to imitate it. “Roger, you will not disappoint me, will you? You will not be weak?” the King asked, without looking away from Roald.
Roger clutched his sash, seeking comfort. “Of course not, Your Majesty,” Roger replied earnestly. He saw Roald’s face fall, and felt guilty. He liked his uncle, but he knew that he could not let the King down. “I will not be weak, I swear.”
“That makes one of you, then,” replied Jasson, before he turned on his heel, and marched from the room.
Rating: PG
Words: 489
Prompt: Crooked Hearts (#53)
Summary: Familial obligations can conflict; a young Roger of Conte is caught in the middle of a King that was and a King that will be.
Note: Thank you to Rosie for A) inspiring me and B) putting up such a rocking prompt!
Duke Roger of Conte toyed with the jeweled sash on his chest. It was heavy and awkward, and far too big for his five-year-old frame. He was only made to wear it when he dined with the King. He ran his fingers along its length, feeling the bumps of sapphires and rubies, and pinching the spaces between them. The fidgeting gave him comfort; there was something reassuring about the jewels, a warm hum that seemed to envelope his hands.
He looked up, and caught the eye of Prince Roald. The young man smiled at him, and Roger smiled back. Roger liked his uncle Roald; he was quiet and kind, and he told good stories. Not war stories, like the grizzly ones told by the King, but stories of wizards, and pretty ladies, and even magic pumpkins. Roald talked wistfully of lands where there was no war, and where people who were unhappy soon became happy. His stories all had neat endings.
“What are you doing, boy?” came a gruff voice to his left. Roger turned to face his grandfather.
“Nothing, Your Majesty,” he answered, reaching forward to pick up his forgotten fork.
Jasson fixed his beady blue eyes on him, grey eyebrows cast down in a disapproving glare. “Good,” he grunted. He nodded toward Roald. “The last thing the kingdom needs is another dreamer who wants to fix the world’s ills”. He let out a snort of derision.
Roald coloured a deep red. “Wanting the realm to see a summer free of war is not a silly dream, father,” he replied politely, struggling to maintain his composure. “War is a way of life in Tortall, when we could just as easily see peace.”
The King shook his head, bemused. “Pleas for peace are for the weak, and for those who are losing. When you win, you press onward and conquer.” He leant forward, towards Roald, and paused for a moment. “We are not losing, son.”
Roald did not reply; he just stared at his father with a look Roger did not understand. It was as if his uncle was both angry and sad at the same time. Roger clutched his fork, unsure what to do.
Jasson drank heavily from the goblet in front of him, draining it in one long gulp. The King wiped his mouth on his sleeve – soldier manners, his uncle Roald had once called it, when Roger had tried to imitate it. “Roger, you will not disappoint me, will you? You will not be weak?” the King asked, without looking away from Roald.
Roger clutched his sash, seeking comfort. “Of course not, Your Majesty,” Roger replied earnestly. He saw Roald’s face fall, and felt guilty. He liked his uncle, but he knew that he could not let the King down. “I will not be weak, I swear.”
“That makes one of you, then,” replied Jasson, before he turned on his heel, and marched from the room.
I like how torn you show Roger to be, as well as the conflict between Jasson and Roald.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!