Post by Seek on Apr 14, 2013 2:33:16 GMT 10
Title: Verdant
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 727 words.
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 1A
Summary: AU. A green knight comes to Corus on Midwinter's Day.
Warnings: Mention of beheading.
-
Midwinter had come to Corus, and the city was alive with festivities. In the palace, King Jonathan had just finished leading the prayer to Mithros and the nobles were beginning to feast when the doors to the hall were flung open. A giant knight, clad entirely in green, strode into the hall, bearing a holly bough in one hand. In the other, he carried a wicked-looking axe, edges gleaming in the light. He was tall and heavily built, even more so than Raoul, and his eyebrows and beard were a deep shade of green. The chattering nobles fell silent as the strange knight approached the high table where King Jonathan and his guests sat.
"Happy Midwinter to you, Sir Knight," the king said calmly, rising. "What brings you to Corus?"
The knight laughed, his voice deep and mocking. "I came to Corus because I had heard of the fame of the Knights of Tortall and the King they served and I wished to see this for myself. This? I see nothing but a court of boys and fools, playing at knighthood."
The hall fell silent. The severity of the knight's insult sank in and many hands went to sword-hilts. Raoul's dark eyes burned with fury and he stood up, gripping his sword hilt. Alanna noticed, and elbowed him. "Sit down," she said, sharply, in a tone that brooked no argument.
"I do not fight with untested lads," the knight said scornfully, directing his gaze at Raoul. "Sit down boy, before you hurt yourself."
"Sir," Alanna said, and now she was on her feet, as Gary talked Raoul down, "You insult knight after knight of Tortall. Are you prepared to defend those words?"
"I have come," the knight said, "To propose a game, in the spirit of Midwinter. I will allow someone to strike me a single blow with this fine axe, which will belong to him henceforth. I will then await him a year and a day's hence in the Green Chapel, where he will receive the same blow from me. Who will take up this game?"
Silence fell. Knights released their sword hilts, realising what this deadly game meant. The knight laughed. "A court of cowards then--"
"I will do it," King Jonathan snapped. "You will find no lack of a challenger at Corus."
"Sire," Alanna said, speaking up. He wasn't going to do it. He couldn't do it--he was the King of Tortall! So she stepped forward. "I do not fear this knight. Give me the axe."
Jon hesitated, but only for a moment. "Sir Alanna, our Champion. This task is yours, then."
Alanna strode over to the knight. He dwarfed her, and she would have to compensate for that, if it came to blows. One stroke, she thought. If she could beat him with a single strike, then she didn't have to stick around for the return blow. She gripped the axe, swung it about, testing it. It was a fine axe, as the knight had said, and it was perfectly balanced.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
The knight nodded, and knelt, baring his neck to her. Alanna drew a deep breath and struck in a swift motion, parting his head from his neck. Green blood spurted forth; Alanna turned her face away so the spray wouldn't blind her. But the knight did not collapse to the floor, like a dead man. Instead, the headless body moved, and Alanna almost dropped her axe. It picked up the knight's head, and turned it to face her. "Remember your word, Sir Knight!" the lips moved, as the man spoke. "I will await you a year and a day hence, in the Green Chapel at midday!"
Bearing his severed head under an arm, the green knight left the hall, in dead silence. Disquieted, Alanna gripped her emberstone. There was nothing it showed her, except bright verdant around the knight. Of course there was. There had to be sorcery involved, although what it was eluded her.
Jon's eyes met hers, asking a silent question. She knew what he asked; Alanna nodded. A year and a day, she thought, even as Jonathan gathered their attention with practised smoothness, and had them laughing and returning to the feast. Still, his eyes rested on her, for a moment, clearly troubled.
Later, she mouthed.
He nodded. Later it was, then.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 727 words.
Pairing: Alanna/Jonathan
Round/Fight: 1A
Summary: AU. A green knight comes to Corus on Midwinter's Day.
Warnings: Mention of beheading.
-
Midwinter had come to Corus, and the city was alive with festivities. In the palace, King Jonathan had just finished leading the prayer to Mithros and the nobles were beginning to feast when the doors to the hall were flung open. A giant knight, clad entirely in green, strode into the hall, bearing a holly bough in one hand. In the other, he carried a wicked-looking axe, edges gleaming in the light. He was tall and heavily built, even more so than Raoul, and his eyebrows and beard were a deep shade of green. The chattering nobles fell silent as the strange knight approached the high table where King Jonathan and his guests sat.
"Happy Midwinter to you, Sir Knight," the king said calmly, rising. "What brings you to Corus?"
The knight laughed, his voice deep and mocking. "I came to Corus because I had heard of the fame of the Knights of Tortall and the King they served and I wished to see this for myself. This? I see nothing but a court of boys and fools, playing at knighthood."
The hall fell silent. The severity of the knight's insult sank in and many hands went to sword-hilts. Raoul's dark eyes burned with fury and he stood up, gripping his sword hilt. Alanna noticed, and elbowed him. "Sit down," she said, sharply, in a tone that brooked no argument.
"I do not fight with untested lads," the knight said scornfully, directing his gaze at Raoul. "Sit down boy, before you hurt yourself."
"Sir," Alanna said, and now she was on her feet, as Gary talked Raoul down, "You insult knight after knight of Tortall. Are you prepared to defend those words?"
"I have come," the knight said, "To propose a game, in the spirit of Midwinter. I will allow someone to strike me a single blow with this fine axe, which will belong to him henceforth. I will then await him a year and a day's hence in the Green Chapel, where he will receive the same blow from me. Who will take up this game?"
Silence fell. Knights released their sword hilts, realising what this deadly game meant. The knight laughed. "A court of cowards then--"
"I will do it," King Jonathan snapped. "You will find no lack of a challenger at Corus."
"Sire," Alanna said, speaking up. He wasn't going to do it. He couldn't do it--he was the King of Tortall! So she stepped forward. "I do not fear this knight. Give me the axe."
Jon hesitated, but only for a moment. "Sir Alanna, our Champion. This task is yours, then."
Alanna strode over to the knight. He dwarfed her, and she would have to compensate for that, if it came to blows. One stroke, she thought. If she could beat him with a single strike, then she didn't have to stick around for the return blow. She gripped the axe, swung it about, testing it. It was a fine axe, as the knight had said, and it was perfectly balanced.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
The knight nodded, and knelt, baring his neck to her. Alanna drew a deep breath and struck in a swift motion, parting his head from his neck. Green blood spurted forth; Alanna turned her face away so the spray wouldn't blind her. But the knight did not collapse to the floor, like a dead man. Instead, the headless body moved, and Alanna almost dropped her axe. It picked up the knight's head, and turned it to face her. "Remember your word, Sir Knight!" the lips moved, as the man spoke. "I will await you a year and a day hence, in the Green Chapel at midday!"
Bearing his severed head under an arm, the green knight left the hall, in dead silence. Disquieted, Alanna gripped her emberstone. There was nothing it showed her, except bright verdant around the knight. Of course there was. There had to be sorcery involved, although what it was eluded her.
Jon's eyes met hers, asking a silent question. She knew what he asked; Alanna nodded. A year and a day, she thought, even as Jonathan gathered their attention with practised smoothness, and had them laughing and returning to the feast. Still, his eyes rested on her, for a moment, clearly troubled.
Later, she mouthed.
He nodded. Later it was, then.