Post by Seek on Aug 9, 2012 23:01:55 GMT 10
Title: Moon River
Rating: PG
Team: PD/SS
Prompt: Seeing the world
Word Count: 644 words
Summary: Two drifters, off to see the world. Sabine/Mattes. Mastiff AU. Potential Mastiff spoilers.
Notes: Yes, I happened to be listening to Moon River. I’m sorry. Also, I do seem to be on a PD roll today!
-
Sabine sensed, more than saw the figure sprawled on one of her chairs as she entered her quarters and closed the door quietly behind her. “How was it?”
Here in her quarters, she was finally able to unbuckle her sword and lean it against the wall as she considered the question. “It was a good funeral,” she said. “You’d have been surprised at how many of the Dogs came forward to speak for you.”
Mattes looked as though he’d wanted to spit, and then thought the better of it. “Well,” he said gruffly. “That’s been and done with.” The worn traveller’s clothes fit him better than Dog black, Sabine thought. He sat straighter, and looked less tired. Less beaten down.
“Clary stood for you,” Sabine said. “Not a tear.”
Mattes gave a crooked grin. “That’s the Clary I know,” he said.
“Did you tell her?”
“Only my lord Gershom,” Mattes replied. “He gave his blessing. And a purse.” He hefted it; wash-leather with a satisfying clink. So Gershom was in on it too. He’d always seen to his Dogs, after all. “You refused his offer. Why?”
Sabine shrugged. “Roger’s used to disappointment,” she said.
“And the lad?”
Sabine felt a pang of guilt as she thought about the disappointment in young eyes too-old for that face. “He accepted it,” she told him. She kicked off her boots with a sigh of satisfaction. She had an old pair, made out there in the hills. Good leather, but completely unacceptable for a funeral…or a formal ceremony. So she’d managed to dig up a pair from somewhere, but she’d hardly ever worn them and they pinched and chafed all the way throughout.
“Well, then,” Mattes said, and then he was up and across the room in a few strides, and their fingers interlocked. It’d been too many days, Sabine thought. Too many days of ceremonies and responsibilities. “Care to be off, m’lady?”
He’d told her, one night, why he’d gone to Corus. In return, she told him why she’d been sent out to the hills for refusing Roger. She knew how often plans fell apart at the first sign of battle, but theirs had survived it.
“It’ll be cold in Scanra,” she said, teasingly.
“It’ll be hot and miserable in Carthak,” he retorted.
“The Copper Islands.”
“Sarain.”
“There’s a ship bound for the Yamani Islands—we could be on it by sunrise.”
“We could see the lands beyond the Emerald Ocean. They don’t even have maps for those yet. I’ve heard there are lands that grow flowers the size of a man’s head.”
“The Roof of the World—I’ve always heard of it. Impressive mountains, and Doi tribesmen.”
“Barzun.”
“Tyra?”
The windows were open; she wondered if he’d come in through them or through the secret passageway she’d once shown him. Or even simply walked down the corridors of the palace dressed as a servant whom no one paid attention too. A night breeze stirred the light drapes and through them, she could see a silver river of light flooding the palace grounds.
She hadn’t unpacked since the day they’d returned from their hunt, with Rats in tow. Within these walls, she was Lady Knight Sabine of Macayhill and all that meant, and he was Senior Guardsman Matthias Tunstall, and to him, the gap between their stations was far too large no matter what she said.
But the breeze this night brought the faintest scent of sea-spray, the faintest cry of the seagulls. Beyond these walls, the entire world lay spread out before them and they had time. They had all the time they could ever want.
Their horses were in one of the smaller Palace stables, the hostler bribed to silence with a gold noble. Sabine laced up her boots, and belted her sword back on before scooping up their packs. It was time to go.
Rating: PG
Team: PD/SS
Prompt: Seeing the world
Word Count: 644 words
Summary: Two drifters, off to see the world. Sabine/Mattes. Mastiff AU. Potential Mastiff spoilers.
Notes: Yes, I happened to be listening to Moon River. I’m sorry. Also, I do seem to be on a PD roll today!
-
Sabine sensed, more than saw the figure sprawled on one of her chairs as she entered her quarters and closed the door quietly behind her. “How was it?”
Here in her quarters, she was finally able to unbuckle her sword and lean it against the wall as she considered the question. “It was a good funeral,” she said. “You’d have been surprised at how many of the Dogs came forward to speak for you.”
Mattes looked as though he’d wanted to spit, and then thought the better of it. “Well,” he said gruffly. “That’s been and done with.” The worn traveller’s clothes fit him better than Dog black, Sabine thought. He sat straighter, and looked less tired. Less beaten down.
“Clary stood for you,” Sabine said. “Not a tear.”
Mattes gave a crooked grin. “That’s the Clary I know,” he said.
“Did you tell her?”
“Only my lord Gershom,” Mattes replied. “He gave his blessing. And a purse.” He hefted it; wash-leather with a satisfying clink. So Gershom was in on it too. He’d always seen to his Dogs, after all. “You refused his offer. Why?”
Sabine shrugged. “Roger’s used to disappointment,” she said.
“And the lad?”
Sabine felt a pang of guilt as she thought about the disappointment in young eyes too-old for that face. “He accepted it,” she told him. She kicked off her boots with a sigh of satisfaction. She had an old pair, made out there in the hills. Good leather, but completely unacceptable for a funeral…or a formal ceremony. So she’d managed to dig up a pair from somewhere, but she’d hardly ever worn them and they pinched and chafed all the way throughout.
“Well, then,” Mattes said, and then he was up and across the room in a few strides, and their fingers interlocked. It’d been too many days, Sabine thought. Too many days of ceremonies and responsibilities. “Care to be off, m’lady?”
He’d told her, one night, why he’d gone to Corus. In return, she told him why she’d been sent out to the hills for refusing Roger. She knew how often plans fell apart at the first sign of battle, but theirs had survived it.
“It’ll be cold in Scanra,” she said, teasingly.
“It’ll be hot and miserable in Carthak,” he retorted.
“The Copper Islands.”
“Sarain.”
“There’s a ship bound for the Yamani Islands—we could be on it by sunrise.”
“We could see the lands beyond the Emerald Ocean. They don’t even have maps for those yet. I’ve heard there are lands that grow flowers the size of a man’s head.”
“The Roof of the World—I’ve always heard of it. Impressive mountains, and Doi tribesmen.”
“Barzun.”
“Tyra?”
The windows were open; she wondered if he’d come in through them or through the secret passageway she’d once shown him. Or even simply walked down the corridors of the palace dressed as a servant whom no one paid attention too. A night breeze stirred the light drapes and through them, she could see a silver river of light flooding the palace grounds.
She hadn’t unpacked since the day they’d returned from their hunt, with Rats in tow. Within these walls, she was Lady Knight Sabine of Macayhill and all that meant, and he was Senior Guardsman Matthias Tunstall, and to him, the gap between their stations was far too large no matter what she said.
But the breeze this night brought the faintest scent of sea-spray, the faintest cry of the seagulls. Beyond these walls, the entire world lay spread out before them and they had time. They had all the time they could ever want.
Their horses were in one of the smaller Palace stables, the hostler bribed to silence with a gold noble. Sabine laced up her boots, and belted her sword back on before scooping up their packs. It was time to go.