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Fic: Peace
Title: Peace
Fandom/original: Rhedrah, a mild AU in that this probably didn't actually happen
Rating: PG
A/N: The setting belongs to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
totemicdruid, Kestral belongs to icefalcon04, and the prompt was "a dark road" from rougen. I think it should work even if you don't know the setting, if all goes well.
Delia thought it looked like rain. Perfect. She shivered slightly in the wind, and Kestral gave her a worried look. She shook her head: it was nothing for him to worry about. She knew he'd worry anyway, but he let it go. Probably because he smelled the rain too. Well, they'd just have to find a cave or some other shelter before it hit, that was all. She thought how nice it would be to have a druid, or even a ranger with them.
While she was wishing, she might as well wish the invasion away. They had what they had. So the siblings kept going, keeping their eyes open for a likely place to take cover. Unfortunately, this area wasn't very rocky; a cave didn't sound promising.
The road they had picked turned, and she hesitated, Kestral getting a step ahead of her as she slowed. Cyrion flew down to perch on her shoulder, uneasy. I don't like it, her familiar said, frankly. Looks bad.
Yeah, I know, she replied. It did. The trees grew together more thickly overhead, and at the sides, making it almost a tunnel. The road was very dark, even though it was still technically day; even had the sun been shining, Delia was doubtful how far it would penetrate here.
As if he'd read her thoughts, her brother said, "The rain won't much get through either. It might do until we find something better."
"Or it might be an ambush," she pointed out. "There are still robbers and mercenaries out here, after all."
"D." He came over and put a hand on her unoccupied shoulder. "I'll protect you. And we have to get out of the open either way."
"...yes, I suppose."
Cyrion flew up, out a little ways, and back. Feels... wrong.
It'll just be for a little, she said, half trying to convince herself. A moment later, Kestral saw enough in her expression to merit agreement, and turned to go down the new path. As she followed him, she felt a shiver up her spine that she couldn't properly explain. Just a bad feeling; she'd had enough of those, recently. She noticed that there were no birds singing, as they walked. None of the regular, breathing sounds of a forest. Everything was perfectly still, except a hint of wind that she could hear but not feel. Occasionally, her mockingbird would leave her shoulder to fly in a small loop a few feet about her head, and then return to his perch, restless. Kestral stayed a few feet ahead; he seemed wary, but not unnerved. Whatever was wrong with this place did not seem to effect him.
Because it was so still, it was easy to hear the child. Even before they could see it, they knew it was very young; no more than six at the outside. It was a cry of fatigue, of being lost. Of wanting to go home; neither sibling had any trouble recognizing that. They turned a bend, and there it was. He was dirty, but not hurt; a boy of maybe five, half elf from his features. Delia moved ahead of her brother to go to the boy. Crouching down, she said softly in Elven, "Are you hurt?"
He looked up and shook his head, teary eyes blurrily focusing on her.
"Just lost?"
He nodded, again, solemn. His breath caught and released in quasi-hiccups as he attempted to stop crying.
Delia looked back to Kestral. "We may as well see if we can find his parents," even though both of them knew how likely that would be, under the circumstances.
He nodded, but said, "We're not leaving the road."
She glanced out at the tight branches. "As if that were an option, Kes." She looked back down to the boy, and said softly, "Let's find your family, alright?" She carefully scooped him up and rested him on one hip, as she'd used to do with Jon. This boy was light, even for his size; she could barely feel him clasp his arms around her neck, and made sure her own hold on him was secure. "Forward march, then."
Kestral resumed his place in front; Delia hummed almost absently as they walked, which seemed to calm the child. He was dressed as a Chelimbese, which was all the worse for him. Delia wondered what they would do when they didn't find his parents. They certainly couldn't just leave him. But carrying a strange child along with them... if it had been Jon, that would be one thing, but Jon was dead, and this boy was a stranger, even if a stranger so young as to be helpless.
She could guess what Kestral's vote would be. The boy was a liability, no doubt about it, as well as another mouth to scavenge for. They would leave him in a slightly more accessible place, say a prayer for him, and go. Delia knew she should fight him on it, but she wasn't sure she really wanted to. Yes, it was awful, but if all three of them died, what purpose would that serve? What point would she be proving?
Kestral stopped abruptly. "D." His voice was quiet. "You'd better put the kid down before you come look at this."
The body was sprawled off to the side of the road. It looked like it had been kicked there. The elf had many gaping wounds along his torso, and one that finished him across his throat. His dull eyes looked skyward, though decay had begun to take hold; he'd likely been there for a week or more. Delia felt the nausea claw up the back of her throat, and forced it back down. "You don't think..."
Kestral nodded then pointed. A few hundred yards away, there was another prone form, the fletches of a couple arrows rising from it. Delia moved ahead, forcing herself steady. The woman was face down in the dirt, the two arrows assisted by a few wounds clearly made by a short, stabbing blade. She seemed to have been dead an equal amount of time.
"Delia..."
But she didn't turn right away. Another body had caught her eye, almost hidden by the tree line in the dim light. She murmured a soft spell, light blooming into existence like an opening flower. With the increased illumination she could see a small head, tiny leaf-shaped ears poking up through unruly brown hair. Her first though was gods, twins. The boy'd had a twin brother, poor thing. She knelt down to turn it over, carefully.
"Delia, the kid is gone."
The little corpse didn't have an apparent scratch on it. He looked like he might be sleeping. Killed with magic, she'd wager; nothing else would have been so clean. He'd been crying. She touched his face and, impossibly, he almost seemed to stir. But of course, that was an illusion.
In the distance, behind them, they heard crying again. Neither of them had to guess. They knew it was the same child. Exactly where they'd first found him. Exactly where he would remain.
A moment later, they could hear the rain begin, distantly.
Kestral hauled her to her feet, firmly but not roughly. Low, he said, "Let's get out of here."
She shivered, hard this time, and nodded. They said nothing more, walking together through the trees toward the distant rain.
Fandom/original: Rhedrah, a mild AU in that this probably didn't actually happen
Rating: PG
A/N: The setting belongs to
totemicdruid, Kestral belongs to icefalcon04, and the prompt was "a dark road" from rougen. I think it should work even if you don't know the setting, if all goes well.Delia thought it looked like rain. Perfect. She shivered slightly in the wind, and Kestral gave her a worried look. She shook her head: it was nothing for him to worry about. She knew he'd worry anyway, but he let it go. Probably because he smelled the rain too. Well, they'd just have to find a cave or some other shelter before it hit, that was all. She thought how nice it would be to have a druid, or even a ranger with them.
While she was wishing, she might as well wish the invasion away. They had what they had. So the siblings kept going, keeping their eyes open for a likely place to take cover. Unfortunately, this area wasn't very rocky; a cave didn't sound promising.
The road they had picked turned, and she hesitated, Kestral getting a step ahead of her as she slowed. Cyrion flew down to perch on her shoulder, uneasy. I don't like it, her familiar said, frankly. Looks bad.
Yeah, I know, she replied. It did. The trees grew together more thickly overhead, and at the sides, making it almost a tunnel. The road was very dark, even though it was still technically day; even had the sun been shining, Delia was doubtful how far it would penetrate here.
As if he'd read her thoughts, her brother said, "The rain won't much get through either. It might do until we find something better."
"Or it might be an ambush," she pointed out. "There are still robbers and mercenaries out here, after all."
"D." He came over and put a hand on her unoccupied shoulder. "I'll protect you. And we have to get out of the open either way."
"...yes, I suppose."
Cyrion flew up, out a little ways, and back. Feels... wrong.
It'll just be for a little, she said, half trying to convince herself. A moment later, Kestral saw enough in her expression to merit agreement, and turned to go down the new path. As she followed him, she felt a shiver up her spine that she couldn't properly explain. Just a bad feeling; she'd had enough of those, recently. She noticed that there were no birds singing, as they walked. None of the regular, breathing sounds of a forest. Everything was perfectly still, except a hint of wind that she could hear but not feel. Occasionally, her mockingbird would leave her shoulder to fly in a small loop a few feet about her head, and then return to his perch, restless. Kestral stayed a few feet ahead; he seemed wary, but not unnerved. Whatever was wrong with this place did not seem to effect him.
Because it was so still, it was easy to hear the child. Even before they could see it, they knew it was very young; no more than six at the outside. It was a cry of fatigue, of being lost. Of wanting to go home; neither sibling had any trouble recognizing that. They turned a bend, and there it was. He was dirty, but not hurt; a boy of maybe five, half elf from his features. Delia moved ahead of her brother to go to the boy. Crouching down, she said softly in Elven, "Are you hurt?"
He looked up and shook his head, teary eyes blurrily focusing on her.
"Just lost?"
He nodded, again, solemn. His breath caught and released in quasi-hiccups as he attempted to stop crying.
Delia looked back to Kestral. "We may as well see if we can find his parents," even though both of them knew how likely that would be, under the circumstances.
He nodded, but said, "We're not leaving the road."
She glanced out at the tight branches. "As if that were an option, Kes." She looked back down to the boy, and said softly, "Let's find your family, alright?" She carefully scooped him up and rested him on one hip, as she'd used to do with Jon. This boy was light, even for his size; she could barely feel him clasp his arms around her neck, and made sure her own hold on him was secure. "Forward march, then."
Kestral resumed his place in front; Delia hummed almost absently as they walked, which seemed to calm the child. He was dressed as a Chelimbese, which was all the worse for him. Delia wondered what they would do when they didn't find his parents. They certainly couldn't just leave him. But carrying a strange child along with them... if it had been Jon, that would be one thing, but Jon was dead, and this boy was a stranger, even if a stranger so young as to be helpless.
She could guess what Kestral's vote would be. The boy was a liability, no doubt about it, as well as another mouth to scavenge for. They would leave him in a slightly more accessible place, say a prayer for him, and go. Delia knew she should fight him on it, but she wasn't sure she really wanted to. Yes, it was awful, but if all three of them died, what purpose would that serve? What point would she be proving?
Kestral stopped abruptly. "D." His voice was quiet. "You'd better put the kid down before you come look at this."
The body was sprawled off to the side of the road. It looked like it had been kicked there. The elf had many gaping wounds along his torso, and one that finished him across his throat. His dull eyes looked skyward, though decay had begun to take hold; he'd likely been there for a week or more. Delia felt the nausea claw up the back of her throat, and forced it back down. "You don't think..."
Kestral nodded then pointed. A few hundred yards away, there was another prone form, the fletches of a couple arrows rising from it. Delia moved ahead, forcing herself steady. The woman was face down in the dirt, the two arrows assisted by a few wounds clearly made by a short, stabbing blade. She seemed to have been dead an equal amount of time.
"Delia..."
But she didn't turn right away. Another body had caught her eye, almost hidden by the tree line in the dim light. She murmured a soft spell, light blooming into existence like an opening flower. With the increased illumination she could see a small head, tiny leaf-shaped ears poking up through unruly brown hair. Her first though was gods, twins. The boy'd had a twin brother, poor thing. She knelt down to turn it over, carefully.
"Delia, the kid is gone."
The little corpse didn't have an apparent scratch on it. He looked like he might be sleeping. Killed with magic, she'd wager; nothing else would have been so clean. He'd been crying. She touched his face and, impossibly, he almost seemed to stir. But of course, that was an illusion.
In the distance, behind them, they heard crying again. Neither of them had to guess. They knew it was the same child. Exactly where they'd first found him. Exactly where he would remain.
A moment later, they could hear the rain begin, distantly.
Kestral hauled her to her feet, firmly but not roughly. Low, he said, "Let's get out of here."
She shivered, hard this time, and nodded. They said nothing more, walking together through the trees toward the distant rain.