Post by devilinthedetails on May 1, 2023 5:44:09 GMT 10
Title: Walk in the Light
Summary: In which Baird resigns and Neal worries about following in his father's footsteps.
Rating: PG-13
Walk in the Light
Neal was sputtering like a kettle left to boil too long over an open, roaring fire as he returned from his audience with the ever-somber King Roald, who was now so often saddled with the moniker The Just. An audience where he had learned from the king rather than his own father that his father was formally resigning as the head of the royal healers at the end of the month.
An audience where the king had asked him to take his father’s place once his father resigned. As if the role of being the realm’s preeminent authority on healing was a shoe Neal could seamlessly slip into without finding it too big. Big as the Emerald Ocean. Big enough to flounder in. To drown in. To sink like a stone to the fathomless, dark depths where even kraken feared to descend. At least in lore and legend. None ever returned from the ocean bottoms to report definitively on that.
He sought out his father in quiet, book-lined study of the opulent and extensive Queenscove apartments at court. Immediately set about ensuring that the study was no longer a place of quiet contemplation but a burning center of agitation and accusation.
“The king told me you are resigning at the end of the month, Father,” Neal snapped by way of greeting.
“I am.” Father’s tone was calm. Which only stoked the flames of Neal’s temper. Increased his pique.
“Yet you did not see fit to inform me of this yourself?” Neal’s lips pulled back in a frustrated snarl.
“It would have been impolite of me to inform you before I told the king.” Father arched eyebrows that contained more salt than pepper over eyes green as the tongues of ocean that licked at the rocky inlets of the Queenscove shoreline. “And most improper of me to tell you before the king wished to make you aware.”
“And Roald always was a stiff stickler for propriety.” Neal snorted like an irate horse. An out-of-control mount that needed reigning in. “He wants me to follow you as chief healer.”
“That can’t be too surprising to you,” Father remarked dryly. Entirely too dryly under the circumstances, Neal thought. Not without bitterness. “Surely you noticed I’ve been grooming you as my replacement.”
“You only want me as your replacement because I am your son.” Neal pinched the bridge of his nose. “And Roald only wants me to take your place because I am a Queenscove.
“You are more prepared than I was when I accepted the role.” Father’s gaze was grave. “I was chosen because I was a Queenscove as well, and one of the few nobles in the country with any training in healing. It being viewed with scorn and suspicion rather than esteem during the days King Jasson ruled this land.”
“Nevertheless–” Neal sighed as he blew out this shame-faced, flushing confession– “it is hard to follow in your footsteps, Father. You cast a long shadow, and it is difficult to always stand in it.”
“Then don’t stand behind me in my shadow.” Father rested a gentle hand on Neal’s shoulder. Squeezed softly. “Walk ahead of me in the light I have striven to cast for you and for others. It was never my intent that you should follow in my footsteps, son.”
“But you’ve just admitted that you’ve been grooming me as your replacement.” Neal was waspish. Quick as ever to pounce on any perceived contradiction. Any logical error or lapse. He was a critical thinker if nothing else.
“You must carve your own path as the realm’s chief healer.” Father gave Neal’s shoulder a final, light squeeze. Then released it. “I’ve only been preparing you to do that so you would be more ready to assume the role than I was when I accepted the position so many years ago.”
Summary: In which Baird resigns and Neal worries about following in his father's footsteps.
Rating: PG-13
Walk in the Light
Neal was sputtering like a kettle left to boil too long over an open, roaring fire as he returned from his audience with the ever-somber King Roald, who was now so often saddled with the moniker The Just. An audience where he had learned from the king rather than his own father that his father was formally resigning as the head of the royal healers at the end of the month.
An audience where the king had asked him to take his father’s place once his father resigned. As if the role of being the realm’s preeminent authority on healing was a shoe Neal could seamlessly slip into without finding it too big. Big as the Emerald Ocean. Big enough to flounder in. To drown in. To sink like a stone to the fathomless, dark depths where even kraken feared to descend. At least in lore and legend. None ever returned from the ocean bottoms to report definitively on that.
He sought out his father in quiet, book-lined study of the opulent and extensive Queenscove apartments at court. Immediately set about ensuring that the study was no longer a place of quiet contemplation but a burning center of agitation and accusation.
“The king told me you are resigning at the end of the month, Father,” Neal snapped by way of greeting.
“I am.” Father’s tone was calm. Which only stoked the flames of Neal’s temper. Increased his pique.
“Yet you did not see fit to inform me of this yourself?” Neal’s lips pulled back in a frustrated snarl.
“It would have been impolite of me to inform you before I told the king.” Father arched eyebrows that contained more salt than pepper over eyes green as the tongues of ocean that licked at the rocky inlets of the Queenscove shoreline. “And most improper of me to tell you before the king wished to make you aware.”
“And Roald always was a stiff stickler for propriety.” Neal snorted like an irate horse. An out-of-control mount that needed reigning in. “He wants me to follow you as chief healer.”
“That can’t be too surprising to you,” Father remarked dryly. Entirely too dryly under the circumstances, Neal thought. Not without bitterness. “Surely you noticed I’ve been grooming you as my replacement.”
“You only want me as your replacement because I am your son.” Neal pinched the bridge of his nose. “And Roald only wants me to take your place because I am a Queenscove.
“You are more prepared than I was when I accepted the role.” Father’s gaze was grave. “I was chosen because I was a Queenscove as well, and one of the few nobles in the country with any training in healing. It being viewed with scorn and suspicion rather than esteem during the days King Jasson ruled this land.”
“Nevertheless–” Neal sighed as he blew out this shame-faced, flushing confession– “it is hard to follow in your footsteps, Father. You cast a long shadow, and it is difficult to always stand in it.”
“Then don’t stand behind me in my shadow.” Father rested a gentle hand on Neal’s shoulder. Squeezed softly. “Walk ahead of me in the light I have striven to cast for you and for others. It was never my intent that you should follow in my footsteps, son.”
“But you’ve just admitted that you’ve been grooming me as your replacement.” Neal was waspish. Quick as ever to pounce on any perceived contradiction. Any logical error or lapse. He was a critical thinker if nothing else.
“You must carve your own path as the realm’s chief healer.” Father gave Neal’s shoulder a final, light squeeze. Then released it. “I’ve only been preparing you to do that so you would be more ready to assume the role than I was when I accepted the position so many years ago.”
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!