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tamingthemuseTitle: Hours
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Lip Sync
Warnings: na
Rating: PG
Summary: An immortal makes his way back into the daily life of mortals and reflects upon his actions.
Raedan closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, trying his hardest not to grin up at the man now towering over the younger soldiers, shouting at them and being generally mean. He wasn’t a people person, obviously. He’d lost more than his sword grip in his last great battle, and his patience had worn thin with the young men that thought they were warriors.
Raedan lowered his arm least the old warrior turned on him. It was best if he stayed out of sight, wasn’t it? He swallowed and cast a quick glance up at the clear, oh so blue, sky, squinting against the harsh light of the sun. Today, this whole summer, was a bad day for battles, for anything that involved hard work under that heated glare of the sun. Raedan sorely wished he were holed up somewhere else, out of the light and perhaps with something cool to drink.
Like at that lagoon hidden away in the North Wood.
But that would have to wait.
He’d made a promise and he’d be damned if he didn’t keep it. Never mind that the promise was nigh a thousand years old. A promise was a promise.
He returned his attention to the man now marching up and down their ranks and fought to hold back a smile of mirth. He had them all scared of him, none of them realizing that he was doing his best to instill the terror of war into them so that when it came time for them to march on the front lines they would have at least some inkling of what was waiting for them.
Then the man did spot him. He stopped mid-sentence and blinked at him in a sort of dazed confusion. Raedan held his gaze for only a second before dropping his to the ground, suddenly finding the tear in his cloth shoes so much more interesting.
Had he really recognized him? It had been so long ago, so long in fact, that Raedan only knew the old man was one and the same merely because of his name and homeland. He closed his eyes in thought and realized that it had been nearly forty years since he had last appeared before these mortals.
Damn promises.
No matter what war comes, protect my family.
Stupid youth. Raedan bit his lip and glanced up in time to see the old man move on. Perhaps he thought Raedan was the son, grandson even, of his fellow combatant, all those years gone. One could only hope. Heavens help him if he was found out. He bowed his head once again to hide the fond smile that curved his lips as he remembered his own mentor, and his lectures, not unlike this man’s.
He lip synced the familiar phrases that had been drilled into his mind until he dreamed the lessons. They really were words to live by, or die by, if he fail to follow them.
People, mortals, that is, believed in witches and foul creatures of evil. They would hunt him, and hurt him for merely being what they were not.
Never stay in one place too long. Stay too long, and you will become suspect.
Don’t make friends, they will betray you once they learn the truth. Something he never put much heed into, but his mentor had known what he was talking about in the end, hadn’t he? Killed by the one he had trusted, his friend. Raedan’s lips tightened as he thought of his mentor’s death. Of his own need for vengeance, as of yet, unstated.
Raedan held up one finger, unable to resist, as he had heard these words, spoken with just this pose, hundreds of times, and thus this is how one says this sentence.
Always watch your back, for in the end, you have only yourself to rely on.
He paused and blinked. He hadn’t spoken out loud, but the words still rang clear over the silent mass of young soon to be warriors. He looked at the old man at their front and realized that he had spoken the same words. Raedan smiled. This man did remind him so much of his old mentor. He was going to have to watch out for him. No doubt the man would try to find his way into the battles, broken grip or not.
Raedan had never found a reason not to have friends, even among mortals. They too often proved too humorous for him to completely shut himself off from them.
Then he frowned, as long as the man was convinced that Raedan was his own son, perhaps grandson.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: Lip Sync
Warnings: na
Rating: PG
Summary: An immortal makes his way back into the daily life of mortals and reflects upon his actions.
Raedan closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face, trying his hardest not to grin up at the man now towering over the younger soldiers, shouting at them and being generally mean. He wasn’t a people person, obviously. He’d lost more than his sword grip in his last great battle, and his patience had worn thin with the young men that thought they were warriors.
Raedan lowered his arm least the old warrior turned on him. It was best if he stayed out of sight, wasn’t it? He swallowed and cast a quick glance up at the clear, oh so blue, sky, squinting against the harsh light of the sun. Today, this whole summer, was a bad day for battles, for anything that involved hard work under that heated glare of the sun. Raedan sorely wished he were holed up somewhere else, out of the light and perhaps with something cool to drink.
Like at that lagoon hidden away in the North Wood.
But that would have to wait.
He’d made a promise and he’d be damned if he didn’t keep it. Never mind that the promise was nigh a thousand years old. A promise was a promise.
He returned his attention to the man now marching up and down their ranks and fought to hold back a smile of mirth. He had them all scared of him, none of them realizing that he was doing his best to instill the terror of war into them so that when it came time for them to march on the front lines they would have at least some inkling of what was waiting for them.
Then the man did spot him. He stopped mid-sentence and blinked at him in a sort of dazed confusion. Raedan held his gaze for only a second before dropping his to the ground, suddenly finding the tear in his cloth shoes so much more interesting.
Had he really recognized him? It had been so long ago, so long in fact, that Raedan only knew the old man was one and the same merely because of his name and homeland. He closed his eyes in thought and realized that it had been nearly forty years since he had last appeared before these mortals.
Damn promises.
No matter what war comes, protect my family.
Stupid youth. Raedan bit his lip and glanced up in time to see the old man move on. Perhaps he thought Raedan was the son, grandson even, of his fellow combatant, all those years gone. One could only hope. Heavens help him if he was found out. He bowed his head once again to hide the fond smile that curved his lips as he remembered his own mentor, and his lectures, not unlike this man’s.
He lip synced the familiar phrases that had been drilled into his mind until he dreamed the lessons. They really were words to live by, or die by, if he fail to follow them.
People, mortals, that is, believed in witches and foul creatures of evil. They would hunt him, and hurt him for merely being what they were not.
Never stay in one place too long. Stay too long, and you will become suspect.
Don’t make friends, they will betray you once they learn the truth. Something he never put much heed into, but his mentor had known what he was talking about in the end, hadn’t he? Killed by the one he had trusted, his friend. Raedan’s lips tightened as he thought of his mentor’s death. Of his own need for vengeance, as of yet, unstated.
Raedan held up one finger, unable to resist, as he had heard these words, spoken with just this pose, hundreds of times, and thus this is how one says this sentence.
Always watch your back, for in the end, you have only yourself to rely on.
He paused and blinked. He hadn’t spoken out loud, but the words still rang clear over the silent mass of young soon to be warriors. He looked at the old man at their front and realized that he had spoken the same words. Raedan smiled. This man did remind him so much of his old mentor. He was going to have to watch out for him. No doubt the man would try to find his way into the battles, broken grip or not.
Raedan had never found a reason not to have friends, even among mortals. They too often proved too humorous for him to completely shut himself off from them.
Then he frowned, as long as the man was convinced that Raedan was his own son, perhaps grandson.
