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tamingthemuseTitle: Sordid
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 435 - Sordid
Warnings: N/A
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Inspired by the first chapters of The Book of Mordred by Peter Hanratty. The idea remains his.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: Sagremore looked at the small hut. It appeared so ordinary, almost comforting with the smoke coming out of the chimney. He had expected another sight entirely.
Sagremore looked at the small hut. It appeared so ordinary, almost comforting with the smoke coming out of the chimney. He had expected another sight entirely. The other knights had kept warning him about the witch inside, how evil she was and how it was necessary to kill her. He didn't understand their thirst for blood but he was a mere emissary and didn't have a say in their decision. He was here for the boy, only for the boy he reminded himself.
"The boy's not here." Luth said. Sagremore shivered as he realised the knight was almost disappointed at not having found the child. "But we've found the witch," he added triumphantly. Two knights followed him, dragging the unconscious body of a women behind them. Sagremore saw she had flamboyant red hair and a slim body covered in a torn dress. He wanted to run away. How could those knights do this? Them, that proclaimed to uphold justice and rightness... and here they were. Sagremore felt his lunch rise up to his throat. He swallowed hard.
"I'm not here for the witch." He could not bear to say her name. If she became real, he did not trust himself not to act and remain neutral. "I'm going to look for the boy." He turned to face the forest. If he had been the witch, he would have advised the boy to run into the woods. They would offer the best protection around with all of its nooks and crannies to hide in. "Don't burn the house," he added as an after thought. He would need the boy to come back to it afterwards.
"Why," Luth asked sneering.
Sagremore stopped in his track. He could hardly believe the disdain in the knight's words. "Because Arthur," he emphasised the name, "has ordered the child to remain alive. I need him to have something to come back to if I can't find him in the forest."
Luth looked down at the mention of his King's name. Sagremore stared at him for a few more seconds but the other knight did not raise his head before Sagremore walked away.
When he came back to the hut hours later, the moon had settled into the sky and the knights had gone. There was no more smoke coming out of the chimney and the hut felt cold now. He could smell a faint smell of burning from afar. He tried to ignore the smell and stepped into the house. Everything was ordinary inside. Sagremore didn't linger on the bile rising in his throat and went to the chimney. There were still some red embers among the ashes. He busied himself bringing the fire back to life and settled on the floor next to it. He did not want to settle comfortably. Someone had died that day for no reason other than the fear of mindless men and he had done nothing to stop it. He did not deserve comfort, not until he knew that at least the boy was safe.
Fandom: Arthurian legends
Prompt: Prompt 435 - Sordid
Warnings: N/A
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Inspired by the first chapters of The Book of Mordred by Peter Hanratty. The idea remains his.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: Sagremore looked at the small hut. It appeared so ordinary, almost comforting with the smoke coming out of the chimney. He had expected another sight entirely.
Sagremore looked at the small hut. It appeared so ordinary, almost comforting with the smoke coming out of the chimney. He had expected another sight entirely. The other knights had kept warning him about the witch inside, how evil she was and how it was necessary to kill her. He didn't understand their thirst for blood but he was a mere emissary and didn't have a say in their decision. He was here for the boy, only for the boy he reminded himself.
"The boy's not here." Luth said. Sagremore shivered as he realised the knight was almost disappointed at not having found the child. "But we've found the witch," he added triumphantly. Two knights followed him, dragging the unconscious body of a women behind them. Sagremore saw she had flamboyant red hair and a slim body covered in a torn dress. He wanted to run away. How could those knights do this? Them, that proclaimed to uphold justice and rightness... and here they were. Sagremore felt his lunch rise up to his throat. He swallowed hard.
"I'm not here for the witch." He could not bear to say her name. If she became real, he did not trust himself not to act and remain neutral. "I'm going to look for the boy." He turned to face the forest. If he had been the witch, he would have advised the boy to run into the woods. They would offer the best protection around with all of its nooks and crannies to hide in. "Don't burn the house," he added as an after thought. He would need the boy to come back to it afterwards.
"Why," Luth asked sneering.
Sagremore stopped in his track. He could hardly believe the disdain in the knight's words. "Because Arthur," he emphasised the name, "has ordered the child to remain alive. I need him to have something to come back to if I can't find him in the forest."
Luth looked down at the mention of his King's name. Sagremore stared at him for a few more seconds but the other knight did not raise his head before Sagremore walked away.
When he came back to the hut hours later, the moon had settled into the sky and the knights had gone. There was no more smoke coming out of the chimney and the hut felt cold now. He could smell a faint smell of burning from afar. He tried to ignore the smell and stepped into the house. Everything was ordinary inside. Sagremore didn't linger on the bile rising in his throat and went to the chimney. There were still some red embers among the ashes. He busied himself bringing the fire back to life and settled on the floor next to it. He did not want to settle comfortably. Someone had died that day for no reason other than the fear of mindless men and he had done nothing to stop it. He did not deserve comfort, not until he knew that at least the boy was safe.
