Post by wordy on May 26, 2013 18:21:33 GMT 10
SMACKDOWN 2013
ROUND 2 FIGHT B - WINNER'S FIC
BURIRAM TOURAKOM/RAOUL OF GOLDENLAKE VS GEORGE COOPER/ROGER OF CONTE
ROUND 2 FIGHT B - WINNER'S FIC
BURIRAM TOURAKOM/RAOUL OF GOLDENLAKE VS GEORGE COOPER/ROGER OF CONTE
“I still can’t believe he changed sides like that, thief or not,” said Buri. “And I thought he and Alanna were—you know.” The wind almost whipped the words from her mouth, but the two of them were riding close enough that Raoul could just hear her, and see the confused expression that she wore.
“I thought so too,” Raoul said, raising his voice to be heard. “But George is a smart man; he wouldn’t fall in with Roger without very good reason.”
Buri shivered, and not from the cold, if Raoul was any judge. “You think Roger will take the throne this time?”
“Mithros help us if he does.”
The rocky outcrop that they were headed for loomed up amidst the trees, an expanse of cloudy sky behind it. Raoul wished that he had brought a squad of the Own with. He was beginning to think that the two of them investigating on their own was a bad idea.
They dismounted at the treeline and went the rest of the way on foot, leading their horses. Before long, a small clearing opened up in front of them, the crag jutting up, apparently deserted.
For a moment, neither of them spoke, then: “Why would Roger come here every night? There’s nothing here.”
“Perhaps it’s one of those places that has old magic,” whispered Raoul, sceptical. “It could be strengthening his Gift?”
Buri snorted. “Just what we need.”
“I preferred him as a corpse, too.”
Cautiously, they crept forward, leaving their horses where they were. Raoul pressed his hand against the rock, but it felt solid, normal. If there was anything magical about this place, he certainly couldn’t feel it.
“Buri, do you think—”
A sudden dart of sunlight piercing through the clouds made him raise a hand to shade his eyes; when he could see again, a tall figure stood atop the rocks, cape flapping in the wind.
Roger.
“There’s no use hiding,” the duke called, even as Raoul pressed himself against the base of the crag, in the shadows. “I’ve been expecting you, Commanders!”
Raoul jumped as something touched his arm, but it was only Buri. She looked up at Roger, scowling. “I have a bad feeling about this,” she said to Raoul, voice pitched low. “Him and his damned theatrics. If it was anyone else, I’d say he was overconfident.”
“If it was anyone else,” drawled a soft voice from behind her, “you’d be dead already.”
George’s grin was predatory. It took a few seconds for Raoul’s heart to dislodge from his throat, but, after glancing quickly up at Roger—who appeared to be coaxing his cape into a more dramatic cascade in the wind—Raoul lunged for the thief, belt-knife suddenly at the other man’s throat. Buri darted around behind him, keeping her own dagger at George’s back.
“You won’t kill me,” said George.
“You’d have to give us good reason not to,” growled Buri. “Why, George? Is it a double-cross? Surely you’re not really on Roger’s side!”
The king of thieves sighed, looking over Raoul’s head. “It’s love.”
“What!?” Raoul and Buri yelped.
“You wouldn’t understand,” said George, dreamily. “Just like Jon never understood me. But Roger—we’re going to rule Tortall. Together.”
“Er,” said Raoul.
“Let’s just take him with us, before Roger notices we’re gone,” hissed Buri, sheathing her knife with one hand and tugging on George’s arm. “When we’re safely back at the palace, Numair can take a look at him.”
“Right,” said Raoul. He sheathed his own knife and grabbed George by the other arm.
George tried to shake them off, his eyes losing their glazed-over appearance. “Hey, don’t—hey!”
Raoul’s knee buckled where the other man kicked out at him. Pain shot through his leg. George twisted out of his grip. “Buri!”
“Got him!” She had set upon the Rogue from behind, her arm strong about his neck; Raoul tried to get up, but his leg wouldn’t even hold his weight. Before he could shout a warning, George was slipping twin daggers from his sleeves—
“This is not what we had planned,” came a stern voice from behind him. Raoul let his head hit the grass, looking up and back: Roger. Up close—even viewed from upside down—he was terrifying, face shroud-pale against the dark velvet of his robes.
Orange lightning sprang from his upraised hands, faster than Raoul’s eyes could make out; all he saw was Buri shudder and go limp, George shaking her off without care. Her head hit the ground. She didn’t get back up.
Raoul started to crawl away on his back, leg dragging. Roger and George followed him at a leisurely pace, mocking his weak attempt at escape. The duke grinned. “I said that I’d been expecting you. Really, luring the two of your out here was dreadfully simple. I’m sure it will be just as easy with the Naxen boy, though I suspect your Lioness will put up a much better fight.”
“She’ll kill you,” spat Raoul, still backing away.
Roger laughed, throwing his head back. Beside him, George grinned. The traitorous part of Raoul’s mind agreed with them: Alanna had already killed Roger once. Death would not stop him. No one could.
The pain was beginning to blacken his vision. When Roger raised his hand, engulfed in orange flame, Raoul closed his eyes against the brightness of it, his thoughts already unravelling in the darkness.
As he felt the heat of Roger’s Gift wash over him, his last thought was of Buri. He would find her in the Peaceful Realms.
The winner is George/Roger!
The final tally
Buri/Raoul: 78
George/Roger: 94
All the fic has been moved to the 'Past Fights' section, so you may all read and review at your leisure!