Post by Seek on Aug 15, 2017 1:11:44 GMT 10
Series: Mountains and Rivers
Title: Giantkillers
Rating: PG
Event: Stormy Show Jumping
Words: 889 words
Summary: Neal and Kel kill some giants.
Note: This takes place in a reversal AU where: A) Kel disguises herself as a boy to win her shield, and B) deals with the events of Alanna's day, e.g. the Tusaine War and Duke Roger's scheming. Alanna and co. have not yet been born.
-
Kel peered through the spyglass and frowned. She collapsed the brass spyglass without another word and was about to return it to its carry-pouch when Neal took a firm grasp of her hand.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“Get out of here,” Kel said, calmly. “Warn the others.”
Neal tugged at the spyglass and Kel let him. He extended it and looked, and Kel knew the moment he’d seen what she had, for he cursed quietly and without lowering the spyglass, said, flatly, “No.”
“This is not up for debate.”
“Yes, it absolutely is!” Neal snapped, his eyes blazing. “That’s three giants, in case you can’t count. We need at least an entire unit’s worth of knights with lances, not the King’s Own.”
“There’s no point in wishing for what we can’t have,” Kel replied, tersely. She folded her arms across her chest. “If I had my way, we’d be fighting them with at least fifty armed knights and ten war mages. But we only have Dom’s squad, and Henriksford is right down the road.”
Neal collapsed her spyglass with a loud snapping sound and returned it to her. “There’s no point in senseless heroics either!” he said, loudly. “I might close an eye at one giant, but it’s three of them there, Kel.” He stared at her, willing her to see reason. Willing her to bend on this, but Kel knew she couldn’t.
“Duty doesn’t change,” Kel said, quietly. The more time she spent arguing with Neal, the more time she wasted. Dom’s squad needed to be alerted; a messenger needed to be sent to the Own for reinforcements should the worst come to pass. “Please don’t argue with me, Neal—I don’t take my orders from you.”
“And now you’ve put on that face again,” he said, waving vaguely at her features, which had gone Yamani-blank. “Which means you don’t care, you’ve made up your bloody mind and the gods damn anyone who tries to talk sense into you.”
If it was anyone else—anyone else other than Neal—Kel would’ve told Peachblossom to trot and simply left him there with orders to warn the Own. But it was Neal; he’d made her laugh on dreary days, they’d saved each others lives more times than she could count, and he’d always had her back, and she respected and liked him too much to do that to him.
She motioned to her full load of weaponry: her bow, her warhammer, and her glaive. “I don’t have a lance, but I’m about as well-armed as you can get,” Kel said, reasonably. “And you know I’m not reckless.”
“One giant,” Neal muttered, and she knew he’d given up. “Mithros save me, you kill one giant, they call you Giantkiller, and now you want to go and fight three of the monsters.” He let out a long, tired breath. “If you get yourself killed, Dom, Merric, Seaver and the others are not going to forgive me. I’m not going to forgive me.”
“Duly noted.”
“I’m going to resurrect you from the dead just so I can yell at you all over again for not listening to your healer’s advice, and I will sic Tobe on you.”
“Isn’t that against the healer’s oath?” Kel wondered.
Neal shot her a narrow-eyed glare. “Do not get me started on what I will and won’t do,” he warned her. He sighed. “Well then, let’s go.”
Kel stared at him. “We are not going,” she said. “I am.”
“Oh, no, you’re not doing this,” Neal insisted. “I am extremely insulted that you would go and try to get yourself killed without dragging me along for the ride!”
“And who’s going to let Dom know?” Kel asked of him.
Neal shrugged and a tiny globe of deep emerald light sparkled about his fingers. “Sir Neal of Queenscove reporting in,” he murmured. “We found three giants. The Knight-Commander wishes to go play. Be good children and bring the rest of the Own, will you? We’ll need someone to whack Kel over the head with a stick and tie her up the next time she does something so blindingly stupid.”
“Acknowledged,” said Gregor, the mage in Dom’s squad and the tiny globe of emerald light winked out.
“There,” Neal said. “Let’s go get ourselves killed and pummelled to death in nasty ways, shall we?”
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Kel mused, as they rode on.
“There are many things you don’t know about me,” Neal said, loftily. “For instance, I can speak four languages—“
“—I knew that from when we were pages.”
“I play the lute passably well.”
“Yuki was not impressed.”
“I write excellent poetry.”
“I’ve seen some of your attempts.”
“And I value your friendship greatly and am risking life and limb in order to make your suicidal charge of glory somewhat more glorious and marginally less suicidal.”
What did one say to that?
“Thanks,” Kel replied, at last.
Neal snorted. “Thanks? Is that all you can manage?”
Kel shrugged. “I’m focusing on not getting both of us killed here,” she said. “You’re welcome to nitpick once the giants are dealt with.”
“I expect at least a meal at the Jugged Hare,” Neal informed her.
“Done,” Kel said, immediately, and had to stifle her amusement at Neal’s gape. “But you’re buying the dessert.”
Title: Giantkillers
Rating: PG
Event: Stormy Show Jumping
Words: 889 words
Summary: Neal and Kel kill some giants.
Note: This takes place in a reversal AU where: A) Kel disguises herself as a boy to win her shield, and B) deals with the events of Alanna's day, e.g. the Tusaine War and Duke Roger's scheming. Alanna and co. have not yet been born.
-
Kel peered through the spyglass and frowned. She collapsed the brass spyglass without another word and was about to return it to its carry-pouch when Neal took a firm grasp of her hand.
“What is it?” he demanded.
“Get out of here,” Kel said, calmly. “Warn the others.”
Neal tugged at the spyglass and Kel let him. He extended it and looked, and Kel knew the moment he’d seen what she had, for he cursed quietly and without lowering the spyglass, said, flatly, “No.”
“This is not up for debate.”
“Yes, it absolutely is!” Neal snapped, his eyes blazing. “That’s three giants, in case you can’t count. We need at least an entire unit’s worth of knights with lances, not the King’s Own.”
“There’s no point in wishing for what we can’t have,” Kel replied, tersely. She folded her arms across her chest. “If I had my way, we’d be fighting them with at least fifty armed knights and ten war mages. But we only have Dom’s squad, and Henriksford is right down the road.”
Neal collapsed her spyglass with a loud snapping sound and returned it to her. “There’s no point in senseless heroics either!” he said, loudly. “I might close an eye at one giant, but it’s three of them there, Kel.” He stared at her, willing her to see reason. Willing her to bend on this, but Kel knew she couldn’t.
“Duty doesn’t change,” Kel said, quietly. The more time she spent arguing with Neal, the more time she wasted. Dom’s squad needed to be alerted; a messenger needed to be sent to the Own for reinforcements should the worst come to pass. “Please don’t argue with me, Neal—I don’t take my orders from you.”
“And now you’ve put on that face again,” he said, waving vaguely at her features, which had gone Yamani-blank. “Which means you don’t care, you’ve made up your bloody mind and the gods damn anyone who tries to talk sense into you.”
If it was anyone else—anyone else other than Neal—Kel would’ve told Peachblossom to trot and simply left him there with orders to warn the Own. But it was Neal; he’d made her laugh on dreary days, they’d saved each others lives more times than she could count, and he’d always had her back, and she respected and liked him too much to do that to him.
She motioned to her full load of weaponry: her bow, her warhammer, and her glaive. “I don’t have a lance, but I’m about as well-armed as you can get,” Kel said, reasonably. “And you know I’m not reckless.”
“One giant,” Neal muttered, and she knew he’d given up. “Mithros save me, you kill one giant, they call you Giantkiller, and now you want to go and fight three of the monsters.” He let out a long, tired breath. “If you get yourself killed, Dom, Merric, Seaver and the others are not going to forgive me. I’m not going to forgive me.”
“Duly noted.”
“I’m going to resurrect you from the dead just so I can yell at you all over again for not listening to your healer’s advice, and I will sic Tobe on you.”
“Isn’t that against the healer’s oath?” Kel wondered.
Neal shot her a narrow-eyed glare. “Do not get me started on what I will and won’t do,” he warned her. He sighed. “Well then, let’s go.”
Kel stared at him. “We are not going,” she said. “I am.”
“Oh, no, you’re not doing this,” Neal insisted. “I am extremely insulted that you would go and try to get yourself killed without dragging me along for the ride!”
“And who’s going to let Dom know?” Kel asked of him.
Neal shrugged and a tiny globe of deep emerald light sparkled about his fingers. “Sir Neal of Queenscove reporting in,” he murmured. “We found three giants. The Knight-Commander wishes to go play. Be good children and bring the rest of the Own, will you? We’ll need someone to whack Kel over the head with a stick and tie her up the next time she does something so blindingly stupid.”
“Acknowledged,” said Gregor, the mage in Dom’s squad and the tiny globe of emerald light winked out.
“There,” Neal said. “Let’s go get ourselves killed and pummelled to death in nasty ways, shall we?”
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Kel mused, as they rode on.
“There are many things you don’t know about me,” Neal said, loftily. “For instance, I can speak four languages—“
“—I knew that from when we were pages.”
“I play the lute passably well.”
“Yuki was not impressed.”
“I write excellent poetry.”
“I’ve seen some of your attempts.”
“And I value your friendship greatly and am risking life and limb in order to make your suicidal charge of glory somewhat more glorious and marginally less suicidal.”
What did one say to that?
“Thanks,” Kel replied, at last.
Neal snorted. “Thanks? Is that all you can manage?”
Kel shrugged. “I’m focusing on not getting both of us killed here,” she said. “You’re welcome to nitpick once the giants are dealt with.”
“I expect at least a meal at the Jugged Hare,” Neal informed her.
“Done,” Kel said, immediately, and had to stifle her amusement at Neal’s gape. “But you’re buying the dessert.”