Post by Muse on May 29, 2012 14:08:52 GMT 10
****THIS FIC CONTAINS MAJOR MASTIFF PLOT POINTS****
Series: Strong [#6]
Title: Stalwart
Rating: PG
Event: Tasty Triple Jump
Word Count: 282
Summary: Between a rock and a hard place, his self and his duty, Gareth gets caugh and can't help wishing that she could be her.
Warnings: Mastiff Spoilers...
There exists a line between duty and self; there always has been and between breaths Gareth regrets the thoughts from long ago that this wasn’t a dream, that he could, that they—
Being a Conte doesn’t change things, not enough, doesn’t give him the power to be the exclusion to the rule. He can feel the clank of iron links shackled to his wrists and he knows without a doubt that he is bound fast.
He drags, but before he is ready—no, no, not this—he is there, and she is there, and he is hopelessly lost.
When he looks at her bluegreygorgeous eyes, he wonders if she can see: his guilt, the long hours spent with her. He doesn’t deserve her smiles, so much like her father’s, warm and open and just for him in a way that makes him ache.
He still stays as long as he can, he can’t help it, and kisses her sweetly, gently, slowly, finally, before he leaves. She is beautiful, here in his arms, and he does everything but tell her.
If he can remember her as she is before her heart breaks then Gareth will selfishly save that little tiny piece for himself.
Maybe Beka’s eyes are cooler than usual when he bids them good night, and maybe Farmer’s smile is forced, for once.
Maybe Gareth’s heart breaks when he crosses the line for the last time but he doesn’t look back.
He can’t.
Back in the palace, Gareth locks himself away, tossing the key into the deep, endless chasm where his heart used to be. Pasting on a smile, he walks away from the line to go and find duty and her.
Series: Strong [#6]
Title: Stalwart
Rating: PG
Event: Tasty Triple Jump
Word Count: 282
Summary: Between a rock and a hard place, his self and his duty, Gareth gets caugh and can't help wishing that she could be her.
Warnings: Mastiff Spoilers...
There exists a line between duty and self; there always has been and between breaths Gareth regrets the thoughts from long ago that this wasn’t a dream, that he could, that they—
Being a Conte doesn’t change things, not enough, doesn’t give him the power to be the exclusion to the rule. He can feel the clank of iron links shackled to his wrists and he knows without a doubt that he is bound fast.
He drags, but before he is ready—no, no, not this—he is there, and she is there, and he is hopelessly lost.
When he looks at her bluegreygorgeous eyes, he wonders if she can see: his guilt, the long hours spent with her. He doesn’t deserve her smiles, so much like her father’s, warm and open and just for him in a way that makes him ache.
He still stays as long as he can, he can’t help it, and kisses her sweetly, gently, slowly, finally, before he leaves. She is beautiful, here in his arms, and he does everything but tell her.
If he can remember her as she is before her heart breaks then Gareth will selfishly save that little tiny piece for himself.
Maybe Beka’s eyes are cooler than usual when he bids them good night, and maybe Farmer’s smile is forced, for once.
Maybe Gareth’s heart breaks when he crosses the line for the last time but he doesn’t look back.
He can’t.
Back in the palace, Gareth locks himself away, tossing the key into the deep, endless chasm where his heart used to be. Pasting on a smile, he walks away from the line to go and find duty and her.