![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
tekia.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: Family
Fandom: Original
Prompt: vigilance
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Just because one is dead, doesn’t mean that family isn’t still everything.
He watched his great-great grandniece as she slept not so peacefully. The night is hot and humid and the blanket had been shoved down around her waist as she tossed and turned in her sleep. She hadn’t bothered to wash up from the late battle, blood and sweat and filth covering what skin hadn’t been hidden away under cloth.
Her hair was a tangled mess on the pillow, and her face wasn’t at all attractive as her cheek was pressed into the pillow, lips parted and a thin line of drool trailing from her mouth to the pillow. She lay on her stomach, dead to the world around her now that her battle was won. On her left shoulder blade a newly stitched wound near glowed an angry red, still glistening from the rum that had been poured over it to wash out any infection.
To her people, she was a warrior queen, a deadly force to be reckoned with. To him, she was irreplaceable. And she had nearly lost her life on this day. A shudder coursed through his body as he remembered watching the enemy thrust that deadly spear through the air and into her shoulder. She had screamed, not with pain, but rage and held her sword steady as she cleaved her way through the throng of enemies. Truly, she was the heir to his brother’s title of pirate king. Never mind they were landlocked at the moment, fighting someone else’s battles.
His brother would be proud of her, no doubt, he thought as he watched the moon’s light bathe her dark red hair in its blue glow. He would have loved to know that his son’s son’s daughter’s daughter was as stupid and foolish as he was. Untamed. It wasn’t just their color that was the same, but their impossible to defeat attitude toward all life threw their way. Their warrior’s spirit. Their conqueror’s soul.
He hoped to all the gods that she didn’t get herself killed like his brother did. Like he did. He didn’t think he could take losing her slowly, or swiftly for that matter. Not at all.
Finally, Derecho entered the darkened room on silent feet. Still, the sleeping body twitched at his presence and he mentally thanked his cat body for its natural stealth. He brushed his whiskers against her bare arm that hung off the side of the bed and she relaxed even further into her heavy sleep. She needed it. It had been a long day and she had been at the heart of the attack on this stupid village.
With his presence known, she could finally let go fully, knowing that he would protect her, always. And he would. He stood with two paws on the bed, yellow eyes taking in the sight of the ugly wound still seeping blood and the sheen of sweat beading on her skin. He pressed his cold nose to her shoulder and her breath hitched, but, with a sniff, he decided that she wasn’t feverish. It was merely the heat of this stupid summer night that was making her uncomfortable.
He turned away from her then and climbed into the window ledge. Outside was still busy with people carrying supplies and caring for the wounded. Rebuilding and restocking for the next battle. It wasn’t silent at all out there, but within the room there seemed to be a spell that let the girl sleep in peace, and again he thanked which ever gods that would listen.
She was as stupid as the rest, letting herself go so unguarded in this time of war. Well, he was here, at least. And he would await her recovery, forever keeping vigilance while she was numb to the world. It was the least he could offer after she had saved his shade from the purgatory he’d been lost in.
He sat, his long tail slowly swishing from side to side, guarding her as he had guarded her great-great grandfather. His brother.
They were named after great forces of nature, his brother and the girl, but even the thunder was still sometimes. And that was his time to shine. He was always proud to be the one they relied on. He would guard the princess so she could recoup and return to the battle field.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: vigilance
Warnings: none
Rating: PG
Summary: Just because one is dead, doesn’t mean that family isn’t still everything.
He watched his great-great grandniece as she slept not so peacefully. The night is hot and humid and the blanket had been shoved down around her waist as she tossed and turned in her sleep. She hadn’t bothered to wash up from the late battle, blood and sweat and filth covering what skin hadn’t been hidden away under cloth.
Her hair was a tangled mess on the pillow, and her face wasn’t at all attractive as her cheek was pressed into the pillow, lips parted and a thin line of drool trailing from her mouth to the pillow. She lay on her stomach, dead to the world around her now that her battle was won. On her left shoulder blade a newly stitched wound near glowed an angry red, still glistening from the rum that had been poured over it to wash out any infection.
To her people, she was a warrior queen, a deadly force to be reckoned with. To him, she was irreplaceable. And she had nearly lost her life on this day. A shudder coursed through his body as he remembered watching the enemy thrust that deadly spear through the air and into her shoulder. She had screamed, not with pain, but rage and held her sword steady as she cleaved her way through the throng of enemies. Truly, she was the heir to his brother’s title of pirate king. Never mind they were landlocked at the moment, fighting someone else’s battles.
His brother would be proud of her, no doubt, he thought as he watched the moon’s light bathe her dark red hair in its blue glow. He would have loved to know that his son’s son’s daughter’s daughter was as stupid and foolish as he was. Untamed. It wasn’t just their color that was the same, but their impossible to defeat attitude toward all life threw their way. Their warrior’s spirit. Their conqueror’s soul.
He hoped to all the gods that she didn’t get herself killed like his brother did. Like he did. He didn’t think he could take losing her slowly, or swiftly for that matter. Not at all.
Finally, Derecho entered the darkened room on silent feet. Still, the sleeping body twitched at his presence and he mentally thanked his cat body for its natural stealth. He brushed his whiskers against her bare arm that hung off the side of the bed and she relaxed even further into her heavy sleep. She needed it. It had been a long day and she had been at the heart of the attack on this stupid village.
With his presence known, she could finally let go fully, knowing that he would protect her, always. And he would. He stood with two paws on the bed, yellow eyes taking in the sight of the ugly wound still seeping blood and the sheen of sweat beading on her skin. He pressed his cold nose to her shoulder and her breath hitched, but, with a sniff, he decided that she wasn’t feverish. It was merely the heat of this stupid summer night that was making her uncomfortable.
He turned away from her then and climbed into the window ledge. Outside was still busy with people carrying supplies and caring for the wounded. Rebuilding and restocking for the next battle. It wasn’t silent at all out there, but within the room there seemed to be a spell that let the girl sleep in peace, and again he thanked which ever gods that would listen.
She was as stupid as the rest, letting herself go so unguarded in this time of war. Well, he was here, at least. And he would await her recovery, forever keeping vigilance while she was numb to the world. It was the least he could offer after she had saved his shade from the purgatory he’d been lost in.
He sat, his long tail slowly swishing from side to side, guarding her as he had guarded her great-great grandfather. His brother.
They were named after great forces of nature, his brother and the girl, but even the thunder was still sometimes. And that was his time to shine. He was always proud to be the one they relied on. He would guard the princess so she could recoup and return to the battle field.
