Post by wordy on Mar 14, 2012 12:05:10 GMT 10
Title: Soldier On
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,175
Crossover: Tortall/Doctor Who
Summary (and any Warnings): “Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but we could really use some of those little birdies right now,” someone muttered, only to be shushed by his squad mates.
Notes: Argh, so. I was intending this to be slightly longer—and I’m still a little bit unhappy with it and convinced that most of it is just bad writing—but I’m pretty much sick to death of it at this point and couldn’t handle any more rewriting. Be free, little fic!
Dom raised a hand and heard the squad behind him come to a halt. Even without the crackle of twigs and dead leaves underfoot the forest remained unsettling; that mission at Northwatch was starting to look mighty appealing.
“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but we could really use some of those little birdies right now,” someone muttered, only to be shushed by his squad mates. Gazing around at the unassuming tree line, Dom couldn’t help but agree with him.
A soft crunching to his left alerted him to Fulcher’s approach. “One of the scouts is back,” he whispered, eyes darting about as he spoke. “You’d best come talk to him.”
Dom sighed and waved the man over to them. Better one person making noise than two. Fulcher nodded his agreement, then went back to eyeing the trees.
“Report,” said Dom, quietly, once the scout was within earshot. The man looked visibly shaken. Better and better, thought Dom sourly.
“I found somethin’, a few yards back,” the scout pointed in the direction he had come from, his arm trembling until he lowered it and clasped his hands together. “Some kinda statue. Odd, it is. I thought it was of one of them stormwings at first, ‘cause of the wings, y’see, but it’s too big. Looks more like a human.”
A statue. Dom ran a hand over his face, trying to clear his thinking. Lord Raoul had sent them after some kind of beast—an animal, maybe, or an immortal—that had been causing people to disappear from the small village that bordered the forest. The village had been evacuated almost two months ago, but if there was something in the forest it couldn’t just be allowed to roam free, especially if it got it in its head to move on to another village.
And all they had found was a statue.
Beside him, Fulcher shifted on his feet, no doubt reading Dom’s frustration. The scout looked from one of them to the other. “Has the other scout come in?” Dom asked finally.
“Not yet, sir.”
He had to make a decision. Had to do something. “Fine. Have Wolset and two others stay behind, should our other scout return,” Dome instructed Fulcher. “The rest of us will look at this statue.”
Fulcher left to pass on his commands. The scout remained.
“Was there more?” Dom asked. The man’s nervousness was disconcerting; he didn’t want the other men getting as worked up about the mission.
The scout hesitated.
“Dom, the others are ready to move off,” said Wolset, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Okay,” said Dom, and gave one final, scanning look at the forest surrounding them. Hopefully they would find this monster soon; he didn’t want to even think about what Lord Raoul would have to say if the beast had moved on already. Dom motioned to the scout. “Lead the way.”
The scout brought them to a clearing within the forest, where the trees encircled them, the leafy canopy overhead filtering through the odd glimpse of sunlight. Dom’s eyes were drawn to the statue immediately. The strangeness of it made him shiver.
He understood why the scout had first mistaken it for a stormwing. The wings were so large that they reached the length of its body, and the place where they attached to the statue’s back was seamless. The workmanship was amazing, though Dom didn’t pretend to be an expert about art.
The squad gathered around. “Why is it here? Why would someone drag a statue all the way into the forest?” one of the men asked.
“Probably just some backwards village tradition.”
“And why’s it covering its face, genius?”
“The hair looks a bit like your mother’s, hey? If I was that ugly I wouldn’t want to show my face either.”
“Quiet,” said Dom, and the men’s laughter dwindled. He turned to look at the statue again. Lord Raoul would be expecting a report and they had nothing. Dom glanced around to ask Fulcher for his opinion and saw that the scout was watching the statue with wide eyes. “What is it?”
The man swallowed nervously. He was little more than a lad, but Dom knew he was by no means green or inexperienced. “What is it?” he asked again.
“I – I’m not sure if this is the statue I found earlier.”
“But you led us right to this spot,” said Dom, exchanging a confused glance with Fulcher.
“I know,” said the scout. His eyes flickered around the clearing. “This is definitely the right place, but I’d swear it was—”
“What?” asked Dom.
He pointed across the clearing. “Over there. I’d swear the statue was over there when I found it, I remember ‘cause of that rock and I had to walk at least ten paces to reach it—”
The rest of the squad had been listening in. Dom could see the incomprehension on their faces, though he was afraid that he himself was beginning to understand all too well. He turned his attention back to the scout, trying to suppress the feeling of alarm growing in his chest. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure? You couldn’t have taken us to a different clearing by accident, or misjudged the distance?”
“This is the right place. It’s the same clearing.”
Dom exhaled roughly. The statue’s presence at his shoulder suddenly made him feel confined, despite the yards of open space around him. Now that the statue could possibly be not what it seemed, his nerves were on edge; he didn’t want to look at the thing. But it hadn’t shown any signs of life the whole time they’d been in the clearing.
After gathering the men together and explaining the situation, he began to put a plan together. First they had to verify the scout’s story that the statue had moved or been moved. Dom told everyone to spread out and search the clearing, though Mithros knew what they were looking for. He could only hope that the tracking and woodsmen training the squad had received would help them come up with something of worth.
He was watching the statue—it had seemed wise to have at least three men guarding the statue while the others searched, considering how much was unknown about the current situation—when the sound of approaching footsteps alerted him to the arrival of the remainder of the squad. He turned to find Wolset and his two men, plus the second scout, crossing the clearing. All four of them eyed the statue with interest as they came to a halt; the second scout likely hadn’t encountered anything similar then, Dom reasoned.
He wasn’t sure if that ought to make him feel better or worse.
Before any of them could ask about the statue, something caught Dom’s attention from the corner of his eye. His head whipped around so fast that he winced and raised a hand to his neck, only to let it fall again as shock ran through him.
There was a statue standing at the treeline.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,175
Crossover: Tortall/Doctor Who
Summary (and any Warnings): “Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but we could really use some of those little birdies right now,” someone muttered, only to be shushed by his squad mates.
Notes: Argh, so. I was intending this to be slightly longer—and I’m still a little bit unhappy with it and convinced that most of it is just bad writing—but I’m pretty much sick to death of it at this point and couldn’t handle any more rewriting. Be free, little fic!
Dom raised a hand and heard the squad behind him come to a halt. Even without the crackle of twigs and dead leaves underfoot the forest remained unsettling; that mission at Northwatch was starting to look mighty appealing.
“Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but we could really use some of those little birdies right now,” someone muttered, only to be shushed by his squad mates. Gazing around at the unassuming tree line, Dom couldn’t help but agree with him.
A soft crunching to his left alerted him to Fulcher’s approach. “One of the scouts is back,” he whispered, eyes darting about as he spoke. “You’d best come talk to him.”
Dom sighed and waved the man over to them. Better one person making noise than two. Fulcher nodded his agreement, then went back to eyeing the trees.
“Report,” said Dom, quietly, once the scout was within earshot. The man looked visibly shaken. Better and better, thought Dom sourly.
“I found somethin’, a few yards back,” the scout pointed in the direction he had come from, his arm trembling until he lowered it and clasped his hands together. “Some kinda statue. Odd, it is. I thought it was of one of them stormwings at first, ‘cause of the wings, y’see, but it’s too big. Looks more like a human.”
A statue. Dom ran a hand over his face, trying to clear his thinking. Lord Raoul had sent them after some kind of beast—an animal, maybe, or an immortal—that had been causing people to disappear from the small village that bordered the forest. The village had been evacuated almost two months ago, but if there was something in the forest it couldn’t just be allowed to roam free, especially if it got it in its head to move on to another village.
And all they had found was a statue.
Beside him, Fulcher shifted on his feet, no doubt reading Dom’s frustration. The scout looked from one of them to the other. “Has the other scout come in?” Dom asked finally.
“Not yet, sir.”
He had to make a decision. Had to do something. “Fine. Have Wolset and two others stay behind, should our other scout return,” Dome instructed Fulcher. “The rest of us will look at this statue.”
Fulcher left to pass on his commands. The scout remained.
“Was there more?” Dom asked. The man’s nervousness was disconcerting; he didn’t want the other men getting as worked up about the mission.
The scout hesitated.
“Dom, the others are ready to move off,” said Wolset, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Okay,” said Dom, and gave one final, scanning look at the forest surrounding them. Hopefully they would find this monster soon; he didn’t want to even think about what Lord Raoul would have to say if the beast had moved on already. Dom motioned to the scout. “Lead the way.”
The scout brought them to a clearing within the forest, where the trees encircled them, the leafy canopy overhead filtering through the odd glimpse of sunlight. Dom’s eyes were drawn to the statue immediately. The strangeness of it made him shiver.
He understood why the scout had first mistaken it for a stormwing. The wings were so large that they reached the length of its body, and the place where they attached to the statue’s back was seamless. The workmanship was amazing, though Dom didn’t pretend to be an expert about art.
The squad gathered around. “Why is it here? Why would someone drag a statue all the way into the forest?” one of the men asked.
“Probably just some backwards village tradition.”
“And why’s it covering its face, genius?”
“The hair looks a bit like your mother’s, hey? If I was that ugly I wouldn’t want to show my face either.”
“Quiet,” said Dom, and the men’s laughter dwindled. He turned to look at the statue again. Lord Raoul would be expecting a report and they had nothing. Dom glanced around to ask Fulcher for his opinion and saw that the scout was watching the statue with wide eyes. “What is it?”
The man swallowed nervously. He was little more than a lad, but Dom knew he was by no means green or inexperienced. “What is it?” he asked again.
“I – I’m not sure if this is the statue I found earlier.”
“But you led us right to this spot,” said Dom, exchanging a confused glance with Fulcher.
“I know,” said the scout. His eyes flickered around the clearing. “This is definitely the right place, but I’d swear it was—”
“What?” asked Dom.
He pointed across the clearing. “Over there. I’d swear the statue was over there when I found it, I remember ‘cause of that rock and I had to walk at least ten paces to reach it—”
The rest of the squad had been listening in. Dom could see the incomprehension on their faces, though he was afraid that he himself was beginning to understand all too well. He turned his attention back to the scout, trying to suppress the feeling of alarm growing in his chest. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure? You couldn’t have taken us to a different clearing by accident, or misjudged the distance?”
“This is the right place. It’s the same clearing.”
Dom exhaled roughly. The statue’s presence at his shoulder suddenly made him feel confined, despite the yards of open space around him. Now that the statue could possibly be not what it seemed, his nerves were on edge; he didn’t want to look at the thing. But it hadn’t shown any signs of life the whole time they’d been in the clearing.
After gathering the men together and explaining the situation, he began to put a plan together. First they had to verify the scout’s story that the statue had moved or been moved. Dom told everyone to spread out and search the clearing, though Mithros knew what they were looking for. He could only hope that the tracking and woodsmen training the squad had received would help them come up with something of worth.
He was watching the statue—it had seemed wise to have at least three men guarding the statue while the others searched, considering how much was unknown about the current situation—when the sound of approaching footsteps alerted him to the arrival of the remainder of the squad. He turned to find Wolset and his two men, plus the second scout, crossing the clearing. All four of them eyed the statue with interest as they came to a halt; the second scout likely hadn’t encountered anything similar then, Dom reasoned.
He wasn’t sure if that ought to make him feel better or worse.
Before any of them could ask about the statue, something caught Dom’s attention from the corner of his eye. His head whipped around so fast that he winced and raised a hand to his neck, only to let it fall again as shock ran through him.
There was a statue standing at the treeline.
So I have a very soft spot for them.) Well done!! 
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!