Post by Shhasow on Apr 28, 2013 0:06:06 GMT 10
Title: The Other 7 Deadly Sins (#6)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 591
Pairing: G/R
Round/Fight: 1C
Summary: In the book of Proverbs, there is listed 7 things that are detested by God, not the traditional list that we all know. This is one of them : "A lying tongue."
His world was a pen and paper and a book, a hole of concentration so complete that everything else dimmed to a haze.
The book. Ancient records of an artifact’s power. They would all be his, his for destruction.
That was all that mattered.
What remained of his conscious dimly noted a conversation behind him, and a pull on his magic awoken him to the fact that his Source was near. He pulled reflexively on his Gift, and more violet from the man mixed with his own orange, and Roger breathed a little easier. His attention broadened.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to wake him up?” That voice sounded familiar to Roger, but still he read and made notes.
“You weren’t there when the ritual was ready.” That was the long-suffering voice of his Source. Thom of Trebond. It was sweet irony that this man had awoken him from Sleep, considering... considering something. Roger didn’t remember, but he knew it was ironic, and that made him smirk.
“Let me talk with him.”
“Talk away.”
“Alone, Thom.”
Pause.
“Fine. I suppose I can trust you, just don’t take too long.”
A door opened and closed, and Roger was alone with the other man.
A face appeared in front of his, between the book and his eyes, and Roger blinked. The youthful tense face came into focus, and a name whispered in his mind.
“George,” he said impassively.
The face - George’s face - relaxed and he breathed. “Roger, I thought you didn’t remember-”
“I don’t,” he clipped off. “Thom says that I was asleep too long. My memories have been slow to recover.”
George nodded, face intent as he squatted near Roger’s chair. “That’s fine, Roger. I don’t mind; I can help you remember. We can rebuild your memories, if we need to do that. Just know, I’m here for you, and I’m never leaving you again.” He took the other man’s hand. “We are together again.”
For a moment, Roger felt warm, and the haze around George’s face lightened and began to clear. Roger began to remember, slowly, bits and pieces. He remembered his love for this man, even if he had never been able to voice his love to him. They had been content, secure in their progress and in each other, but then their plotting had caught up with them and the resulting confrontation ended in a whirlwind of confusion and pain.
Pain.
Something inside of Roger rebelled. His world centered around the man, around George, but it couldn’t. He couldn’t allow his insanity to infect another.
“No,” he grunted.
George went slack with shock. “What? Ok, fine, we don’t have to be, that’s alright. Just let me help you.”
Roger didn’t remember much from before his re-awakening from the Sorcerer’s Sleep. His memories were dim, fuzzy, unreliable, yet somehow he knew the words he needed.
“I said no and I meant it.” Yes, that was good. But harsher. “You were convenient. A laugh. A little urchin boy, thinking he could be useful for me.”
“Roger?”
Keep going.
“Now, boy, someone else is more convenient than you.
Almost there.
“I don’t need you, and I never did.”
Good.
Resolutely, Roger turned back to his work, his mind already flashing ahead and sideways and back inside chaotically, but George’s crestfallen face swirled around his mind’s eye. He grimly ignored the pain and let himself sink back into madness.
Insanity was safer.
He would protect George, prevent his madness from infecting his love
Roger owed him that much.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 591
Pairing: G/R
Round/Fight: 1C
Summary: In the book of Proverbs, there is listed 7 things that are detested by God, not the traditional list that we all know. This is one of them : "A lying tongue."
His world was a pen and paper and a book, a hole of concentration so complete that everything else dimmed to a haze.
The book. Ancient records of an artifact’s power. They would all be his, his for destruction.
That was all that mattered.
What remained of his conscious dimly noted a conversation behind him, and a pull on his magic awoken him to the fact that his Source was near. He pulled reflexively on his Gift, and more violet from the man mixed with his own orange, and Roger breathed a little easier. His attention broadened.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to wake him up?” That voice sounded familiar to Roger, but still he read and made notes.
“You weren’t there when the ritual was ready.” That was the long-suffering voice of his Source. Thom of Trebond. It was sweet irony that this man had awoken him from Sleep, considering... considering something. Roger didn’t remember, but he knew it was ironic, and that made him smirk.
“Let me talk with him.”
“Talk away.”
“Alone, Thom.”
Pause.
“Fine. I suppose I can trust you, just don’t take too long.”
A door opened and closed, and Roger was alone with the other man.
A face appeared in front of his, between the book and his eyes, and Roger blinked. The youthful tense face came into focus, and a name whispered in his mind.
“George,” he said impassively.
The face - George’s face - relaxed and he breathed. “Roger, I thought you didn’t remember-”
“I don’t,” he clipped off. “Thom says that I was asleep too long. My memories have been slow to recover.”
George nodded, face intent as he squatted near Roger’s chair. “That’s fine, Roger. I don’t mind; I can help you remember. We can rebuild your memories, if we need to do that. Just know, I’m here for you, and I’m never leaving you again.” He took the other man’s hand. “We are together again.”
For a moment, Roger felt warm, and the haze around George’s face lightened and began to clear. Roger began to remember, slowly, bits and pieces. He remembered his love for this man, even if he had never been able to voice his love to him. They had been content, secure in their progress and in each other, but then their plotting had caught up with them and the resulting confrontation ended in a whirlwind of confusion and pain.
Pain.
Something inside of Roger rebelled. His world centered around the man, around George, but it couldn’t. He couldn’t allow his insanity to infect another.
“No,” he grunted.
George went slack with shock. “What? Ok, fine, we don’t have to be, that’s alright. Just let me help you.”
Roger didn’t remember much from before his re-awakening from the Sorcerer’s Sleep. His memories were dim, fuzzy, unreliable, yet somehow he knew the words he needed.
“I said no and I meant it.” Yes, that was good. But harsher. “You were convenient. A laugh. A little urchin boy, thinking he could be useful for me.”
“Roger?”
Keep going.
“Now, boy, someone else is more convenient than you.
Almost there.
“I don’t need you, and I never did.”
Good.
Resolutely, Roger turned back to his work, his mind already flashing ahead and sideways and back inside chaotically, but George’s crestfallen face swirled around his mind’s eye. He grimly ignored the pain and let himself sink back into madness.
Insanity was safer.
He would protect George, prevent his madness from infecting his love
Roger owed him that much.