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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

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The first time Rowan saw Silme’s apartment wasn’t until they were two months in to their relationship. Her place had always been out of the way, so they spent most of their time at Rowan’s nice apartment. She had told him there wasn’t much to see at her place, anyways. It wasn’t in the best part of town. Rowan didn’t really grasp what she meant until the night they finally went back to her place.

They had eaten dinner at a new restaurant not too far from her place. It made sense to go back to her house for the night. And so Rowan drove them down the dark, dirty streets of her neighborhood in his sleek and completely out-of-place Audi R8. Rowan’s eyes took in the dingy, grungy sights of the neighborhood. She wasn’t kidding when she said there wasn’t much to see.

“I would make sure the alarm is on,” Silme instructed as they got out of the car. “A ride like this will definitely attract attention. And not the good kind.”

Rowan furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing.

Silme lead him down the sidewalk. As they walked, Rowan look at the street around him. Only half the streetlights were working; the rest flickered on and off. Broken fences trailed the sidewalk, the ground was cracked, and sounds of a cat - or even a man - rooting through garbage could be heard down one of the passing alleyways. The buildings were squished together with no front lawns, no privacy, and what alleyways they did have were dark and most likely housed a homeless person or two.

A man leaned against one of the streetlights that didn’t work. He smiled at Silme as she walked past him. “Hey there, little thing. Where are you off to at such an hour?”

“Don’t mind him, he’s harmless,” Silme muttered to Rowan, ignoring the man. This was clearly not her first encounter with him. As they passed the man, Rowan stared him down with a stone expression. The dirty smirk fell from his face.

“This one.” Silme lead him to a building that was just as dirty and cracked as the rest. threRowan noticed she had not pulled out her keys. Instead, she simply opened the door and walked inside.

“Don’t you have a lock?” he asked.

“Not really,” she answered. Silme disappeared inside the dark home and three furry creatures darted out. Rowan flinched, stepping out of their way. Damn cats. He had to date the one woman in the world who owned a thousand stray animals.

He finally slipped into her home. With a soft click, a light in the corner turned on, illuminating Silme along with half the room. She went about the room turning on lamps one by one. Rowan stood just inside the doorway, eyes beholding the sight before him.

The place was a dump.

Not in the messy, sloppy kind of way, but the get-murdered-and-not-be-found-until-a-week-later kind of way. The apartment was small; nothing more than a living room, a kitchen in the corner, and a door for the bedroom. Several small cracks lined the walls, the wallpaper was peeling in the corners, and there were no bars on the windows considering the neighborhood she lived in. The floor in the center of the room dipped down a level, creating a square pit. Silme had filled it with dozens of pillows varying in sizes. Her “Pillow Pit”, as she called it. It looked like the safest place in the entire neighborhood. A cat sat on top of a pile of pillows, casually licking its belly.

“I know it’s nothing like your place - I mean, your bedroom is bigger than my entire apartment - but it works.” Silme finished turning on the last lamp, revealing one large crack in the corner. She turned to Rowan. He stood in the same spot, looking around the apartment before him. Finally, his eyes landed on Silme.

“No.”

She blinked. “What?”

Without another word, he walked out the door.

“Rowan?...Rowan!” Silme called, darting after him. She hurried up to him as he walked back down the sidewalk. “Hey, what is the matter with you?”

“We are going back to my place,” he calmly declared, eyes focused forward.

“What?"

“I won’t stay there.”

Silme crossed her arms. Her shorter legs had a hard time keeping up with his fast, determined pace. “What is your problem? It’s just an apartment, Rowan. If you’re afraid of the neighbors, I think I should remind you that, given your current profession, you can take them. Maybe not their whole gang, but still.”

Rowan gave her a sideways look. His expression was void of all humor. Unlocking the car with his remote, he pulled the driver’s side open, then faced Silme. “Get in the car.”

She looked at him like he had gone crazy. Which, as far as she was concerned, he had. “No. It’s late, Rowan. Just suck it up for a night and stay with me. You can have the bedroom if it means that much to you.”

“Silme, get in the damn car.”

“I said no, you ass. Would you please stop being dramatic and come back inside? It’s freezing out here.”

He stared at her, face hard. “Either you get in this damn car right now, or I’m leaving without you. Your choice.”

She squared her shoulders.

Rowan let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine.” Slamming the car door behind him, the Audi purred to life, then took off, leaving Silme alone on the cold, dark sidewalk..

She didn’t see him again for four days.

He didn’t call. He didn’t text. After day three, Silme finally went down to Rowan’s office to see what the hell was up with him. Hutch was the only one down there. He informed her that Rowan was assigned an undercover case for a few days. That explained part of his absence, but that still didn’t explain why he didn’t contact the other few days. Feeling angry and betrayed, Silme stormed out of their office, only to be stopped by Hutch.

“I would give him a chance if I were you,” Hutch had advised. “I know you are angry, but trust me. I have a feeling you won’t regret it.”

The next day, which happened to be her day off, there was a knock on her door.

She looked up from her pillow pit. No one ever knocked on her door. Silme had a good guess as to who was standing on the other side of the door. If she was right, then he had guts coming to her home turf. Setting her drawing pad aside, Silme climbed out of the pit and opened the door.

Yeah. It was him.

“What the hell do you want?” Silme greeted not so warmly.

A hint of surprised crossed Rowan’s features. He must not have expected such a cold welcome. “I want you to come with me.”

Silme crossed her arms, staring him down. “And why should I do that?”

“Is being your boyfriend not good enough a reason?”

Her eyebrows knitted together. “I wouldn’t be quick to assume we’re still dating if I were you. Four days, Rowan. You haven’t contacted me in four days. Where the hell have you been?”

“On assignment in Los Angeles. You know I can’t call you when I’m undercover. I didn’t get home until yesterday afternoon, anyway.”

“And you just now remembered we were dating and thought you would, what, drop by and creepily ask me to go somewhere with you? Fat chance, D’Barbarac.”

Rowan let out a sigh. “Look, I was busy all day yesterday. Busy doing the thing that I now want you to come with me to see. Can you please stop giving me that face and come with me?”

“You just left me. You wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, got in your car, and drove away. I still don’t know why.”

“Okay, you’re angry. I get it. But I will explain everything if you just get in that damn car.”

Silme had half a mind to slam the door in his face. No call, no note, not even a lousy message left with Hutch. And then he just shows up and expects her to pretend that everything was fine? Silme never had a real relationship before, but she was pretty sure boyfriends shouldn’t treat their girlfriends that way. In the back of her mind, however, Hutch’s words floated about. I would give him a second chance if I were you. I have a feeling you won’t regret it.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she caved. “Okay. But it better be good.”

Rowan smiled. She retrieved her jacket and followed him to his truck.

They didn’t speak the entire way. Silme was still angry at him. No matter what he had waiting for her, it was not going to excuse his actions.

Rowan drove them to a nicer part of the city. She rarely came to this part of town except when Rowan took her out for dinner. The apartments in this area were a lot more than Silme could ever dream of affording, that much she knew. They parked on the street in front of a tall apartment structure. Offering no explanations yet, Rowan lead her inside.

He briefly spoke with the security guard inside the door. The foyer was bigger than Silme’s living room. It had a nice seating area fully equipped with a couch, several chairs and a coffee table. The foyer alone gave a hint of how nice the apartments would be. This was no crummy apartment down in the lesser part of the city. This was where the wealthy businessmen or young couples lived.

The security guard handed something to Rowan. He nodded to the man, then turned to Silme, gesturing down the hallway to the left. Watching him carefully, she followed. He stopped halfway down the hallway. A plaque with the letters “1H” engraved in gold hung beside the door. Producing a key from his hand, Rowan paused to look at Silme. She raised an eyebrow at the smile he gave her. Finally unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding it open for her.

She stepped into an empty room. The place was big - at least the size of Rowan’s apartment, maybe bigger - with several doors leading to God know’s where and an archway leading to what Silme assumed was the kitchen. Staring in awe, she stepped across the bare hardwood floor.

“Rowan, what is this?” she asked, stepping through what she guessed was the living room.

“Our new apartment,” he answered.

Silme turned back to Rowan. He managed not to grin despite the the look on her face. “One bedroom, two and a half bath. It took me forever to find a place that was on the ground so your damn cats could get in and out. And, by the way, I had to pay the landlady a massive fee to let you keep all eight of those demons, so, you’re welcome. And don’t worry - I am getting a contractor in here later in the week to see what can be done about putting a pit in the living room.”

She blinked at him, shaking her head slightly. “What are you...”

“You can’t live in that hellhole anymore,” he cut her off. “It’s horrible. You deserve better than a gang-infested, meth-dealing neighborhood with peeling walls and cracked floors. And I sure as hell am not going to have a girlfriend that lives in a neighborhood with an eighty percent chance of being murdered every night. You didn’t even have a lock. So, being the amazing boyfriend I am, I bought us a new apartment. I considered you moving into mine but it was way too small to fit all your cats. This bedroom is much bigger, anyways.”

She was at a loss of words. She turned back to regard the bare apartment before her. Live here. With Rowan.

“If you don’t like it, then I’ll just find another one you do like. And if the whole living with me thing is a problem, well... then you are just going to have to either let me pay for a new apartment for you or break up with me now because there is no way on this planet I am going to let you live in that hellhole as long as you are my girlfriend. It’s not right. I’ll take those stupid cats if it means I get you out of there.”

“I love it,” Silme suddenly said.

A smile spread across Rowan’s face. He stepped forward to join her in the middle of the room. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him. Then she nailed him in the arm, hard.

Rowan flinched. He scowled, rubbing his arm. “Ow. What was that for?”

“I’m still mad at you. You haven’t apologized for storming off and then ignoring me for half a week. Jackass.”

“You knew well before this relationship I was a jackass. That’s your own fault,” he pointed out. She smiled slightly, but wiped it away. He sighed. “But you are right. I’m sorry. I should have called you the moment I got home. I guess I’m still trying to figure this whole boyfriend thing out.” He stepped closer to her and gave her his best remorseful pout. “Forgive me?”

Silme eyed him, crossing her arms. “You are still a jerk,” she said. He gave her a soft smile.

“Agreed,” he quietly conceded, grabbing her and pulling her in for a kiss. She gently smiled against his lips, returning the kiss as they stood in the middle of their brand new apartment.

#vermidian #rolme #ayyy here is some fluff #you gave me the idea when you asked me about their apartment for pancakes #i totally ran around disneyland plotting this out in my head #its lame but whatever i love you #also i have to get up in four hours #im gonna die omg #bondverse fanfiction

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

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The first time he saw her was his first day in Highever.

Hutch was only fourteen when he became a squire under Teyrn Cousland’s command. The knights were giving their usual speeches to the new squires, listing the requirements and expectations of the future knights, and Hutch stood next to a particularly tall young man with ragged blond hair. Hutch was listening to the knights with interest when the blond-haired squire nudged him with his elbow. Hutch looked to him and the young man raised both eyebrows, nodding his head towards the opposite end of the courtyard. Hutch’s eyes followed the indicated direction to find a small group of young men about their age, possibly older. They did not appear to be squires, however; their robes bore a noble significance. If Hutch had to guess, it was the Teryn’s eldest son and his friends.

With the Teryn’s son stood a young woman. Her dress lined her developed curves and a thick long, jet-black braid lay over her shoulder. Her face was full, her skin a perfect shade of pale, and her eyes seemed to sparkle even from the distance. She was watching the group of squires. Her eyes swept over the new faces, a light grin playing on her face. Next to Hutch, the tall knight was raising his eyebrow, obviously trying to catch her eye. He managed to succeed, for her grin spread wider and she shook slightly, as if she was laughing at his face. Clearly, the new squires amused her.

And then her eyes flicked to Hutch. He could not help but catch her gaze. Her wide grin fell into a soft smile and she stared at him, arching an eyebrow. He blinked. He didn’t know what to do. He knew he needed to be watching the knight instructing them, but he could not tear his eyes away from the young woman. She grabbed the edge of her braid and gently played with the tips of her hair, twirling it around her fingers. Her gaze finally left him when the Teryn’s son turned and spoke to her. Hutch’s eyes lingered on her even after she had turned her attention from him, until finally he managed to snap back into reality. By the time he refocused on the knight before them, he had missed half of the speech.

Hutch spent the next eighteen years of his life as a Knight of Highever. He became best friends and brothers-in-arms with the blond-haired knight from the first day, Rowan, and together they served the Teryn family. They were lead by the Teryn’s eldest son, Fergus. As a consequence, they often saw the Teryn’s daughter, who had grown into a fighter of her own. Her name was Carmen.

Ever since the first day as a squire, Hutch could not keep himself from looking at her whenever he was in her presence. Something about her drew his attention. She was stunning, clever, a strong fighter, and nearly perfect in every way. They hardly ever spoke. Carmen was a Cousland; Hutch was but a knight. Their paths never crossed, except on rare occasions. Even still, Hutch found himself relishing in the small moments together. Passing by in the hallways. Carmen stopping him to ask if he had seen her brother. Catching her gaze in the courtyard.

In no time at all, Hutch fell in love with her.

Hutch never expressed his feelings. Not to her, not to any other knights, not even to Rowan - who, naturally, figured it out on his own. Rowan encouraged him to tell her how he felt. Hutch refused. His love was unrequited, he knew that. He knew they could never be. His status of a knight was just that. He could never hope to be anything but a knight. And so he forced himself to be content with the fact that the woman he loved could never know exactly how much he loved her.

Rowan and Hutch became well-revered among the Knights of Highever. They showed impeccable skill, determination, and tactical abilities, catching the eye of the Teryn Cousland himself. One year he recruited the boys to guard him and his caravan on his trip to Denerim. On the road back, the caravan was seized by a group of darkspawn. The men fought valiantly and skilled half the darkspawn before managing to get the Teryn to safety. Teyrn Cousland was grateful for their bravery and impressed with their skill, and thus named them his personal bodyguards. They were honored to accept their new positions.

The nation of Thedas fell under attack. Darkspawn were once again rising from the depths of the Deep Roads, signifying the beginning of the Fourth Blight. King Cailan had called Teryn Cousland and his men to fight against the blight at Ostagar. Rendon Howe of Amaranthine was awaiting the arrival of his men to join Teryn Cousland on their trip to Ostagar. Howe’s men fell under some kind of delay, however, and would not be there until the next day. Not wanting to keep King Cailan’s men waiting, the Teryn sent his men out with his eldest son, Fergus. Hutch and Rowan were left behind with the Teryn and would travel with him when Howe’s men finally arrived.

That night, screams pierced through the walls of the estate. Hutch fled out of bed, sword in hand, and opened his door to find bloodied men lying in the hall. Armored soldiers cut through the guards right before his eyes. One of the men pulled their sword from the body of a guard and turned to see Huch, half-dressed and a sword in hand. He charged. Hutch quickly side-stepped and batted away the incoming sword, slicing the man down his back. He fell with a scream. Another man came at Hutch. The soldier sliced in a horizontal angle and Hutch blocked the blow. He sliced a long cut along the man’s sword arm, causing him to drop his weapon. With a quick thrust, the man crumpled to the ground. The hall was clear for the moment.

Hutch knelt by the fallen guard. These men were clearly not darkspawn, so who were they? He grabbed the shield of the fallen soldier and flipped it over. The crest of Rendon Howe lay across the shield. Howe’s men? They were delayed. Unless..

Hutch had to find the Teryn.

He took off. Hutch fought his way to the castle, taking the routes less occupied by Howe’s men. He encountered several groups of guards fighting back, but one by one they fell to Howe’s men. He did not see Rowan anywhere. If he knew his friend, then Rowan was making his way up to the Teryn’s room as well. Eventually he made it to the hallway connecting the Cousland’s rooms. Bloodied bodies lay in the hallway - Howe’s men. Hutch’s eyes immediately shifted to the open door on his left. Carmen’s room.

He ran to her room. It was empty. Hutch did not know whether or not to breathe a sigh of relief. Carmen was a good fighter. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she was the one who left the bodies in the hallway. Hutch quickly hurried to the Teryn’s room to find it empty as well. Hopefully Carmen had taken her parents to safety. Hutch didn’t even want to think of the other possibility.

The main hall. There might be people there, if anyone. It was a well-protected spot; Howe’s men would get there last. If anyone was still alive, they would be there. Hutch silently took off, making his way towards the main hall, praying to the Maker that at least Carmen was still alive.

Howe’s men left no survivors. Bodies of men and women lay about the castle, slain whether they were armed or not. If Hutch saw Howe again, he would end his life where he stood.

Hutch jogged around a corridor and halted. At the other end of the long hall, Ser Gilmore and his men were engaged in a battle with Howe’s men. They were fighting their way to the main hall as well. Hutch took off down the hall to join the fight.

Pain shot through his leg. He let out an agonized yell and tumbled to the ground. He quickly rolled to his feet, grunting. Archers stood at the other end of the hall. He glanced down to see an arrow protruding from either side of his leg. Andraste’s Breath, it hurt. Hutch had to shrug off the pain though. He had to keep going. He had to find the Couslands.

He ran back to the end of the hall, dodging another set of arrows, and engaged the archers. They threw their bows aside and drew their swords. He made quick work of first archer and turned to the second. Their swords clanged, drowned out by the sounds of the battle going on at the other end of the hall. The man was a skilled swordsman, for Hutch could hardly land a blow. He knocked Hutch’s sword aside and thrust. Hutch barely had time to step out of the way. The sword missed his torso, but sliced a long cut up his left forearm. He bit back the searing pain and parried another incoming blow. Howe’s soldier kept throwing swing after swing, and Hutch had no room to make an offensive move. The man was wearing him out. He was losing a lot of blood, and for a moment, he thought this might be his last battle.

Thunk.

The soldier stopped moving. His sword slipped out of his hand, falling to the ground with a deft clunk and the man followed suit. He slumped to the ground, an arrow sticking through his head. Hutch cursed, surprised by the arrow.

He looked to where the arrow had come from. Running down the hallway was the most beautiful sight his battle-worn eyes have ever seen. Carmen. Hutch smiled. She was alive. She was a live and she saved him.

Suddenly, the world began to spin. His leg gave out under him and he pitched forward. A pair of arms caught him on his descent to the ground, lowering him gently. When he regained his focus, Carmen was crouching next to him, propping him up against the wall.

He wanted to touch her face. He wanted to tell her how glad he was that she was alive. But even when he was bleeding to death in the midst of battle, he kept his emotions in check. “Car--My Lady, are you all right?”

“I am better than you look, that’s for certain,” she said, lighthearted despite the sounds of men dying in the distance. She looked down and saw his left arm was all but covered in his blood. The arrow still ran through his right leg, blood dripping from the wound. “Hold still,” she commanded, then proceeded to rip strips of cloth off her tunic.

“No, My Lady, do not concern yourself with me. We have to get you to safety--“

“Hush,” she said sternly, staring at him in the eye. He closed his mouth. She began to wrap the pieces of cloth around his bleeding arm. “Have you seen my father?”

Hutch shook his head. A look of dismay ran across her face, but she quickly pushed it aside.

“I have been all over this castle in search of him. If he is anywhere, he will be with Ser Gilmore in the main hall.” Hutch nodded his head down the hallway. The battle had moved its way into the main hall.

Carmen nodded. She tied off the cloth, then moved down to his leg. She broke off the end of the arrow, then looked up to him. “Are you ready?”

Hutch took in a deep breath, then nodded. She pulled the arrow out.

“Maker--!” Hutch cursed under his breath. He held back his agonized yell, his fist clenching. Carmen immediately began to tie the cloth around his bleeding leg.

A woman rounded the corner. She looked like the older version of Carmen, but with much less blood in her silver hair. “Carmen, more men are approaching. We must go.”

The Teryna’s daughter looked up at Hutch. “Can you walk?”

He nodded. She grabbed his arm and helped him to his feet. He grunted, grimacing.

An arrow soared by the Teyrna’s face. Hutch’s hand shot out and grasped her arm, pulling her further into the hallway. “Go, find Ser Gilmore,” he told the women. He moved in front of them to peer around the corner. Nearly a dozen men approached.

“Come with us--”

“There is no time!” He whipped around to look at Carmen. Their gazes met. “I will hold them off. Go!”

Carmen paused. She opened her mouth to speak, but her mother grabbed her arm. “Maker be with you,” the Teryna said. She pulled her daughter along, and with one final look, Carmen ran off.

Hutch took in a deep breath. He pressed himself against the wall, hidden by the corner. The sound of footsteps grew closer. He tightened his grip the handle of his sword.

He sliced the first body to appear. By the time they realized he was there, he had taken down three men. They swarmed him a moment later. A fist smashed against his face, and he blacked out.

-----

Hutch should have been dead.

Then why did it feel like someone was carrying him?

His eyes dragged open. Dark gray fabric pressed against his face. The smell of blood filled his nostrils, and when he looked up, he saw the ground. He was slung over a man’s shoulder, walking through what he assumed was the woods. Howe’s men must have taken him captive. Why, he didn’t know - they had slaughtered everyone else they came across. Maybe they thought he knew where the Teryn was. If they hadn’t found the Teryn, then Carmen might have made it out...

Everything hurt. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he refused to be captured by the traitorous Howe. Closing his eyes, he inhaled a deep breath. Using whatever energy he had left, he shifted in the man’s arms and sent his knee into his face. The man grunted and stumbled. Hutch rolled off his shoulder and slammed against ground. He quickly scrambled to his feet, his right leg almost giving out on him, then threw a punch. The man dodged the incoming fist. Hutch, as weak as he was, could not stop his momentum and he pitched forward. The man dove forward and caught him. He was about to aim a punch to the man’s abdomen, but a familiar voice stopped him. “Brother, calm yourself!”

“....Rowan?” Hutch looked up to see the bloodied face of his best friend. A fresh stream of blood dripped from his nose.

“This is the thanks I get for saving you? Bloody hell, remind me to never do that again.”

“I thought - I thought you were…” Hutch’s voice trailed off and he sagged in Rowan’s arms. “Put… put me down.”

Rowan did as such, propping him up against a tree. Hutch looked down to see the bandages around his wounds were soaked in dark red blood. He was still losing blood. Rowan did a quick inspection of his wounds. “You owe your life to whoever did your bandages. You should have bled out before I heroically saved you from a hundred of Howe’s men.”

Hutch didn’t have the energy to roll his eyes. “What happened? Did you find the Teryn?”

Rowan’s face fell. He sat on the ground, draping his arm over his knee. “I couldn’t get past Howe’s men to the main hall. There were too many of them. The castle was surrounded. Howe’s men would have surely broken through by now.”

Hutch’s heart sank into his stomach. He swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling quite dry. “Did you see anyone else? Ser Gilmore? The Teryna, or…”

Rowan shook his head. “As far as I know, we are the only ones who made it out alive.”

Hutch ran his hand over his mouth. Suddenly he felt very weak, as if a part of his soul had been ripped from him. He didn’t want to believe it. They had to make it out alive. She couldn’t be…

“We have to go back,” Hutch suddenly said. He began to stand up, but Rowan shoved him to the ground.

“Do you have a death wish? Howe’s men took the castle. Going back would be suicide--”

“If anyone is alive, we must save them. We have to save the Couslands. We can’t just--”

“If anyone if was left, there are surely dead by now, brother. There would be no one to save.”

Hutch stared at him. Rowan was right. If anyone was there when Howe’s men took the castle, then they would have been killed. Howe’s men made it clear they would leave no survivors. He closed his eyes, head falling into his hands. His hands were shaking.

“I am sorry, brother,” Rowan said quietly. They sat in silence after that.

After some time had passed, Hutch finally stirred. He ran his hands through his blood-caked hair and looked at Rowan. His eyes were glossed over, a red tint lined around his eyes. He took in a deep breath, attempting to keep himself from crying. Rowan patiently waited for him to collect himself.

“We have to go to Ostagar,” Hutch suddenly announced.

Rowan wouldn’t even consider it. “No. We are going to Amaranthine.”

“That is where Fergus and his men went. King Cailan will be there to fight the Blight. We have to lend our skills--”

“You will be dead by the time I drag your butt to Ostagar. Amaranthine is the nearest city. We go there. I lost a lot of men today - like hell I’m going to lose you, too.”

Hutch opened his mouth, then closed it. Rowan was right. He would never survive a trip to Ostagar. It was months away just on horseback. Hutch gritted his teeth. “You are a stubborn sod.”

Rowan nodded, a victorious grin on his face. Helping his friend to a stand, he leant him support, and together, the men made their way to Amaranthine.

---

They barely made it to the city in time. There, they sought a week’s refuge, ensuring Hutch had enough time to regain his strength. While there, word came on the battle of Ostagar. King Cailan’s men didn’t stand a chance. They were slaughtered by the darkspawn, and the King perished. The kingdom had lost it’s king.

A new proclamation by Loghain Mac Tir swept the kingdom. He blamed the Gray Wardens for the death of King Cailan, claiming they were traitors to the king. If any Gray Wardens were alive, they were to be arrested on sight. Hutch thought this claim to be odd, for the Gray Wardens had always fought for the kingdom, not against it. Rowan expressed the same concern, but they kept their thoughts to themselves.

With Ostagar taken by the Darkspawn, the men decided to head to Denerim. There, they could lend their services to the knights of Denerim, and hopefully aid in the fight against the Blight.

In the preceding months in Denerim, rumors floated around town about a small band of warriors lead by a Gray Warden were gathering all the forces of Ferelden to fight against the Blight. If the rumors were true, then Ferelden had a fighting chance against the darkspawn. Another rumor spoke of one of the Gray Wardens being King Cailan’s illegitimate brother, making him the heir to the throne. Loghain refuted the claims, but a part of Hutch hoped they were true. He didn’t trust Loghain, and if this Gray Warden was attempting to fight the Blight, then he might be Ferelden’s best chance.

Not a day went by that he didn’t think of Carmen. It pained him to think that she didn’t survive the attack on Highever. He prayed to the Maker that, by some small chance, she made it out alive. But he knew the chances were slim, and over the months, the pain dissolved into a numb ache. Despite the broken heart, he pressed on. Ferelden was at war. He had to focus on the Blight, no matter how much he wished to see Carmen again.

The Landsmeet was called. The leaders of Ferelden were called to Denerim, where they were going to discuss claims against Loghain. Word spoke of Arl Eamon travelling with the Gray Wardens with intention of dethroning Loghain and his daughter to put the rumored heir on the throne. Many people had mixed emotions regarding this rumor; some men wished to see the queen consort dethroned, while most were dismayed by the very idea of a new king. Hutch fell somewhere near the middle. He was mostly concerned with giving his aid to help fight the Blight. As long as whoever ruled the throne would be capable of fighting against the Darkspawn, he would be content.

His opinion on the matter would change drastically in the next few days.

Arl Eamon arrived at his estate in Denerim. Being good friends with Rowan and Hutch’s superior, Sir Wymore, they were asked to lend their services to the Arl and ensure no attempts were made on his life. So the two men were given charge of security at the estate. They saw a myriad of unusual sights upon their first day there - a fairly menacing quinari, a scantily-clad witch of the wilds, a drunken dwarf, and even a young woman who, at first glance, looked to be a man. Apparently, this band of misfits had been travelling with the Wardens throughout the Kingdom in attempt to create an army to fight the Blight.

The second day, Rowan and Hutch stood in the large center room of the estate. They were speaking of rotation schedules when their ears picked up the faint sound of a conversation trailing down the hall. Arl Eamon’s voice could be heard, among a few others. Rowan stopped talking and turned his head, obviously attempting to listen. Hutch punched his shoulder and gave him a stern look. They were knights, not spies. They had no right to listen. Hutch tried to carry on, but even he could not help overhear the conversation.

“There is yet much to be done. You will have to lay the groundwork with the nobles if we wish to have the Landsmeet fall in our favor.”

“And by ‘fall in our favor’, you mean ‘make me King’? Does no one care that I never asked to be that?” an unfamiliar voice spoke. It must have belonged to the Gray Warden rumored of royal blood.

“It is your birthright, Alistair,” Arl Eamon countered, “You deserve the throne, not Anora.”

“Please talk some sense into him. You know me - I would be a terrible king. He just doesn’t seem to get it,” said Alistair.

“To be honest, I think you would make a fine king,” a third voice spoke. A woman. The voice struck Hutch as familiar, almost hauntingly so. He could not place the face with the voice, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it belonged to someone of significant importance to him.

Alistair’s voice groaned. “Yes, all right, that’s fine, let’s dethrone the woman who has been queen consort for years to make way for a bastard son who has not a clue of running a kingdom. That won’t go wrong at all.”

“We do not have time for this,” Arl Eamon said. “We must prepare for the Landsmeet. Not only must you meet with the banns and lords, but there has been some unrest in the Alienage that I wish for you to tend to.”

The voices began to grow louder. Three pairs of boots echoed through the hallway, heading in the direction of the room where Rowan and Hutch stood. Through the doorway appeared the Arl with two Gray Wardens. The dirty-blond haired man was obviously Alastair, an unpleasant scowl formed on his face. Behind them, the second Gray Warden stepped through.

Hutch stiffened.

The second Gray Warden was a woman of significantly shorter height than the two others, but she carried a presence that outweighed even the most noble of men. She had perfect ivory skin, offset by her sleek raven-colored hair, which was swept up into a braided bun. Once upon a time her full face had nary a flaw on it; now, it was battle-warn, the scars telling the tales of her past year in battle. Despite her weather-worn features, her beauty shined through.

Carmen. It was Carmen.

Hutch had all but given up hope of ever seeing her again. He had thought she perished in the raid upon her family home, but there she was, alive and carrying an air of the utmost importance. Hutch thought his heart stopped upon seeing her. He stared at her intently, unable to focus on anything but her. Rowan noticed his face and raised an eyebrow, nudging him slightly. The blond knight turned to follow Hutch’s gaze, and that was when he saw the woman they had grown up with. He muttered a surprised curse.

“Anora believes the current unrest in the Alienage is the cause of her father,” Arl Eamon continued, completely unaware of the two knights in the room. He continued on to give a brief explanation to the Wardens of the problems in the Alienage. Halfway through, Carmen’s eyes wandered from Arl Eamon throughout the room, sweeping past the two knights. She suddenly paused, eyes snapping back to Hutch.

He was staring at her. She looked confused for a moment, but then a wave of recognition washed over her face. Her eyes widened as she stared at Hutch. She remembered him. They held each other’s gaze intently, both remembering times long passed. Carmen then realized both Alistair and Arl Eamon were staring at her.

“Are you all right?” They asked. She blinked and snapped her eyes back to Alistair. She smiled easily.

“Yes, of course. We will see to the Alienage immediately,” she said. With a satisfied nod, Arl Eamon returned to his quarters.

“We should go gather the others,” Alistair said. He laid a hand on Carmen’s shoulder and sighed, gently running it down the length of her arm. Carmen smiled warmly to him, but her eyes flickered to the knight at the bottom of the stairs. Hutch had yet to look away. Alistair turned his attention to where Carmen stared, seeing the two knights. Hutch finally broke his gaze from Carmen and returned it to Rowan, his face impassive. Alistair watched them for a moment before he put a hand on Carmen’s back and lead down the stairs and out of the room. Carmen’s eyes followed Hutch until the moment they disappeared through the door.

“Are you well, brother?” Rowan asked with some concern.

“She’s alive,” Hutch whispered. He inhaled deeply through his nose, a smile curling at the corner of his lips. The smile died, however, when he thought about the way Alistair had touched her. He cleared his throat. “Come, we have duties to attend to.” With that, they returned to their work.

Over the next few days, Hutch was noticeably in better spirits. He performed his duties as normal and no one noticed his change in mood except Rowan, who would catch him smiling softly whenever he saw the sight of a dark-haired woman turning a corner or passing by a hallway. Hutch, however, made no attempt to speak to the Warden, but made the effort to extricate himself from the room whenever she entered. While the sight of her alive filled his heart with joy, the sight of her with the soon-to-be-king Gray Warden equally filled it with sorrow.

One evening, Rowan and Hutch entered the dining hall for the knights. There was little space to sit at the long tables, save for one area at the end of the first one. A lone young man sat at the edge, quietly minding his own dinner. Being the only open area with two seats, Rowan and Hutch moved to that end.

The young man glanced up at them as they approached. “May we?” Hutch politely asked. Before they could receive an answer, Rowan plopped down in the seat and dug into his food. Hutch sighed with exasperation. The young man shrugged and nodded. Inclining his head, Hutch took a seat next to his friend. The young man returned to his food.

As they ate, Hutch could not help studying the young warrior. He was neither knight nor guard; the light, flexible armor bearing no crest easily showed as much. Hutch knew every man under his watch in the estate, and this young man certainly was not one of them. He must have been part of the group that traveled with the wardens.

Something was unusual about the young man. He had clipped brown hair and a soft, almost feminine-like face despite the battle-worn lines that spoke of years of hardship. It was odd to say, Hutch thought that the warrior might have been… a woman. In fact, the more Hutch inspected the young man, the more he began to wonder if it truly was a woman.

Suddenly, the warrior met Hutch’s gaze. He was caught staring. They watched each other for a moment, the low din of men eating enveloping them.

“I’m used to it,” the young man - or, rather, woman, spoke. While she looked and dressed like a man, her voice fell more on the feminine side. There was no doubt in Hutch’s mind this was a girl.

Hutch looked at her with confusion. “I’m afraid I do not follow,” he said.

“The staring. I’m used to it. Everyone stares when they realize I’m a woman.”

Rowan finally looked up from his nearly empty plate of food..

“I apologize for my rudeness,” Hutch dipped his head.

The woman shrugged. “It’s okay. Like I said - used to it.”

Rowan glanced between his friend and the woman, both intrigued and confused.

Hutch watched her for another moment. “Are you one of the warriors that was traveling with the wardens?”

The young woman nodded. “Been with them since Lothering.”

“You are Silme, are you not?”

Hutch’s question caught her off guard. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “How did you...?”

“Sir Wymore told me about you,” he said, smiling softly. “A friend of his sent word you were with the wardens. He wanted me to confirm you were alive and well.”

For a brief moment, her lips creased in a smile. She looked back down to her food and prodded her meat. From the conversation Hutch had with Sir Wymore, he gathered the Advisor and this young woman had an extensive history together. By the way Sir Wymore’s eyes lit up when he spoke about her, he cared deeply for the young woman. He would be happy to know she was alive.

“You’re a woman?” Rowan suddenly spoke next to him.

“Welcome to the conversation,” Silme responded, voice laden with sarcasm. Hutch had to hide his amusement.

“Silme… I heard your name before. A few years back, when I was assigned a detail to Denerim. The guards spoke of a woman with that name.”

The young woman’s face dropped into an emotionless mask. She seemed to know precisely what he was talking about.

“You tried out to be a guard, didn’t you?”

“I was a guard,” she corrected him.

“Do not be upset that you couldn’t handle it; there are men twice as strong as you who do not continue on.” he assured her, earnestly attempting to be of help. Hutch noticed her jaw tightening. “Being a guard can be dangerous at times, and it truly requires a larger man. I must add that they are nowhere as well-trained as our knights, but a guard of Denerim is still an honorable position. You should count yourself fortunate to even be allowed to try out--”

Rowan was cut off by the fist smashing into his jaw. In a blink of an eye, Silme stood out of her chair and landed a clean uppercut under the knight’s chin and sent him backwards. He tipped over the bench and slammed his back on the ground, legs sticking up in the air. He let out an angered curse, scrambling to his feet. He lunged at the table, but Hutch was there to intercept him with a hand on his chest.

“Rowan, she passed out,” Hutch calmly informed him.

Rowan blinked. Both men turned their attention to the table. Silme’s body was sprawled across the top, body completely limp. The whole room had gone quiet now and had their eyes trained on the unmoving woman. Rowan grumbled, but he made no move to retaliate. Hutch released him and moved to the table to inspect the young woman.

Just then, two people hurried into the dining hall. They immediately found Silme and rushed over to her, not looking particularly concerned over her limp state.

“What happened?” a redheaded woman asked, voice heavily suggesting Orlesian origins.

“She punched me,” Rowan grumbled, touching his nose. Blood dripped out of his nostrils.

“That’s our Silme,” the smaller, slender elf chuckled. His own dialect sounded like it was from Antiva. He seemed amused by the situation, whereas the redheaded woman held mild concern.

“Well, grab her and bring her back to the room with us, Zevran. We will have to tell her when she returns to normal, then we can plan the rescue.”

“Rescue?” Hutch asked. “Has someone been taken?”

The woman nodded solemnly. “The Gray Wardens have been arrested and sentenced to execution.”

“Arrested? On what charge?” Rowan spoke the words before Hutch had the chance.

“We cannot waste any more time talking to guards. We must go,” Zevran prompted, Silme now slung over his shoulder. The Orlesian woman nodded, and with a curt apology, the three hurried out of the room.

Hutch stared after them. Carmen had been taken. He needed to get to her. He needed to find her--

A hand grasped his arm. He broke out of his trance to see Rowan holding him in place. He hadn’t even realized he tried to leave. “They will find her, Brother. There is nothing we can do but return to our work.”

Hutch inhaled deeply. He wanted to be in there with them, figuring out a way to help Carmen. But Rowan was right: he was just a knight set in charge of security at the estate. If they wanted his help, they would call for him. And they weren’t going to want his help. All he could do is sit back and pray to the Maker that Carmen’s group knew what they were doing.

Work broke through the estate that the Gray Wardens had escaped Fort Drakon. No one was more relieved than Hutch.

Several times he came close to seeking her out, to see for himself if she was all right. But each and every time he stayed himself. He was a fool for thinking he was allowed to barge in on the Gray Warden and speak with her. She most likely didn’t even know who he was, let alone wish to speak with him. So kept his relief to himself and dove into his duties in hopes of finding a distraction.

He found it very hard not to think about her.

Especially on the night before the landsmeet.

It was late into the night, the estate quiet save for the few guards remaining. Hutch sat in one of the weapons rooms, hunched over a bundle of cloth in his lap. His pants had ripped down along the seam, and Hutch was attempting to repair them. With the war against the Blight approaching, the army could not afford to be replacing knight’s pants whenever they tear, and so in an attempt to save money and valuable resources, Hutch would sew them himself. His sisters had taught him the basics of sewing when he was a boy, and he remembered enough to sew a seam together. The pants were proving to be much more difficult than he had anticipated, however, and he poked his finger more times than he wished. He would curse under his breath, squint his eyes, and continue on, not letting a simple needle get the best of him.

“Hutch?”

He paused. The voice was all too familiar; it was a voice he had been attempting to avoid for several weeks. Slowly, he turned over his shoulder to see the Gray Warden standing in the doorway. The knight in the back of his mind reminded him of the proper protocol when a woman - especially one of higher standing than oneself - entered the room, but Hutch remained in his seat, unable to move or speak.

She examined him for a moment, a faint smile flickering on her lips. She stepped into the room, moving around the bench he sat upon. “It is you. You survived the attack on Highever - I thought..”

Hutch finally found the words to speak. “Gray Warden,” he greeted, rising to a stand. He left his sewing on the bench. He gave her a small bow. She seemed unconcerned with the formality.

“I thought I was the only one who made it out alive,” she said, stopping a few feet in front of him.

“As did we.”

She tilted her head slightly. “We?... Rowan. So he made it out too. I’m pleased to hear I’m not the only one. Did anyone else…?”

“No,” he said softly. As far as they knew, they were the only survivors from the attack. She frowned softly, but nodded. That was nearly a year ago. There were other pressing matters to be concerned about.

They stood in silence for a moment. Hutch attempted to look elsewhere, but his eyes kept meeting her hazel gaze. She smiled softly at him, and he found himself briefly matching her smile.

“So.. Commander of Security. You have come a long way since the scrawny squire I remember all those years ago,” she said, grinning slightly.

He raised an eyebrow. “You have not remained the same, either, Gray Warden.”

She laughed slightly. “Touche, Ser Knight. Sometimes I wonder how I got myself into this position. My father certainly would not have agreed to anything like this. In fact, he didn’t, at first.” The amusement in her face died briefly at the mention of her father, eyes glancing down. Their passing obviously still weighed on her.

“I can think of no greater person to lead us against the Blight,” Hutch genuinely spoke. Their gazes met and she smiled softly, then noticed the crumbled clothing on the bench. “Are you attempting to repair your clothes?”

He glanced back at the pants. “Yes, but not with great success.”

“Allow me,” she offered. She held out her hand, “I can mend them for you. Between the training and hanging around the knights, I used to make my own clothes. My mother even used to tell me I must have been a seamstress in a past life, for all the women would ask me to--”

Carmen was cut off by the hand grasping her own. Hutch had reached out and slowly wrapped his fingers around her outstretched hand. She looked up to him, slightly surprised by the informal action. He just looked down at their hands, his fingers gently caressing her skin.

“You do not know how pleased I am to see you,” he spoke. His voice was quiet, genuine; the formal tone of respect had vanished.

Carmen did not pull away. She let her hand relax in his touch, carefully watching his tender face. “Hutch,” she breathed.

He looked up to her. Carmen recognized the way he stared at her - it was the same look he had given her back in Highever every time she caught him staring at her from a distance.

He leaned down, and kissed her.

Fifteen years of longing, desire, and unspoken affection went into that kiss. She sighed at the sensation of his lips against hers. Their hands grasped tighter, hearts racing, Carmen’s free hand slid up his neck.Her fingers curled in his hair. He stepped closer, hand reaching out to gently grab her and pull her close--

“Carmen?”

They instantly broke apart. Hutch took several steps back while Carmen inhaled deeply, catching her breath. The owner of the voice appeared in the doorway a minute later. Alistair looked between the two, eyes eventually sticking to Carmen.

“There you are,” he said, entering the room. Carmen gave him a sweet, breathless smile. The Gray Warden stopped next to his companion, then turned to regard Hutch. The knight stood tall and erect, although his eyes had found the ground.

“Ser Knight,” he greeted.

Hutch dipped his head. “Gray Warden,” he returned. Alistair watched him carefully.

“Alistair,” Carmen began, “this is Ser Duval. He was a knight of my father’s back in Highever. I am not the only one to survive the attack, I am pleased to say.”

He nodded. “That is good to hear. We will need everyone we can against the Blight.” He looked Hutch over once again before turning to Carmen. Hutch’s eyes looked up to see Alistair had placed a hand on Carmen’s arm.

“I think it is time we should retire. We need to be well rested for the Landsmeet tomorrow. Eamon might expect me to make a speech.”

Carmen nodded, her smile not as pleasant as it could have been. “Of course, dear.” She glanced to Hutch. His eyes had found the ground again. She turned to the knight, looking as if she wished to say something, but all she said was, “Good night, Ser Duval.”

He finally looked to her. “Good night, Gray Warden.”

Alistair placed a hand on her back and lead her out of the room, leaving Hutch to his solitude once again.

The Landsmeet was called the next day. Rowan and Hutch were there to ensure the safety of all the lords and banns of the land. They stood at their posts on the upper level of the throne room, each on either side, eyes surveying the crowd.

The Landsmeet was a heated event. The Gray Wardens arrived a few minutes late, bloodied but ready for debate. Hutch could not help his gaze as it followed Carmen.

The Gray Wardens brought forth evidence against Teyrn Loghain - slavery and attempted poisoning of Arl Eamon being a few of the examples. Loghain spoke with power and persuasiveness, but not even he could speak against his daughter, who showed up to support the Warden’s claims. Before anyone knew it, the Landsmeet had turned into a duel. Loghain against the Warden’s chosen champion. Whoever won, the Landsmeet would have to serve.

Carmen chose herself to fight.

Hutch’s eyes had not left her since the moment she walked in the room. Him, like everyone else in the room, watched her as she readied herself against Loghain. He was a formidable opponent and a great warrior; it would be no easy feat for her. But Hutch had seen her grow as a warrior over the years, and he knew if anyone could win, it would be her.

She moved with grace and vicious elegance. Loghain fought with power and expertise himself. The fight turned in his favor several times, but in the end, Carmen was victorious. Loghain succeeded to the hand of the Gray Warden.

Hutch released a sigh of relief.

“What will you do with him now, Gray Warden?” Arl Eamon asked.

Carmen, still breathing heavy from the fight, gave a hard look to the kneeling Loghain. “Take him away. I will decide what to do with him later.” Two guards appeared, sweeping Loghain into their arms and taking him away.

The room filled with mutterings and whispered words. The Landsmeet were waiting for what came next. Arl Eamon joined the Gray Wardens at the ground floor of the throne room.

“So it is decided. Alistair will take his father’s throne,” the Arl announced.

Alistairs eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, what? No! When did that get decided? Nobody’s decided that… have they?”

“He refuses the throne,” Queen Anora quickly cut in. “Everyone here has heard him. I think it is clear, that he abdicates in favor of me.”

“I hardly think you are the appropriate person to mediate this, Anora,” Arl Eamon refuted. He turned to Carmen. “Warden, will you help us?”

Carmen nodded. “Yes. I can settle this.”

Everyone looked to her with anticipation.

“As the arbiter of this dispute, what is your decision? Who will lead ferelden?”

Carmen stepped forward, moving to the center of the group. She turned to face Eamon and the others. As she turned, however, her eyes found Hutch. Her expression faltered, but she forced her gaze back to Eamon..

“Alistair will be king,” she said, then inhaled deeply. “And I will rule beside him.”

The crowd broke into a surprised clamor.

Everyone reacted differently. Some looked hopeful, others were skeptical, Alistair himself carried an expression of dread. But Hutch saw none of this. His eyes had closed when he heard the words that had broken his heart.

She was going to marry Alistair. She would become Queen.

And Hutch would never see her again.

Perhaps it was for the best. He was but a knight; Carmen was a Gray Warden and an impeccable woman who deserved to run the Kingdom. She would be good for the people of Ferelden. She would lead them through the Blight. Her, and her future husband. Hutch would have to accept that.

And he did, but it still did not help mend his broken heart.

With the new leaders chosen, Ferelden prepped for war. The King and his Consort moved to the castle in Denerim, where they begun their plan to fight the Blight. Hutch and Rowan returned to the Knights of Denerim to help prepare everyone for the upcoming war. One day, Rowan and Hutch were summoned into the Royal Advisor’s study up at the castle. They passed by Silme on their way in, each man greeting her. Rowan and Silme had been thrown together a lot the past few weeks, and thus have found themselves less irritated with one another. That was good, for Ferelden did not need two of its best fighters trying to kill each other before the Blight.

“Ah, there you are,” Sir Wymore greeted them. The men gave him the required bow. He nodded to them. “Thank you for coming, men. I know time is of the essence, so I will make this brief. You have been promoted.”

Hutch’s eyebrows rose, while Rowan blinked with surprise.

“A power higher than mine has taken notice of your abilities. You have shown excellent determination and loyalty to Ferelden, and with an extra good word from myself, you have each been given charge of your own unit. We believe your leadership will be invaluable to the kingdom of Ferelden.”

A prideful grin swept over Rowan’s face. Hutch had to hold in his own smile. They both bowed. “We would be honored to accept the position, Sir Wymore,” Hutch said.

Sir Wymore smiled, and nodded. “I trust you two will lead our men well.”

“You put your trust in the right men,” Rowan said. Hutch refrained from rolling his eyes.

Sir Wymore dismissed them. Rowan left the room, but Hutch hesitated by the door.

“Alexander,” he said. They were old friends, so when they were without company, they felt comfortable enough to use each other’s first name. “The higher power you spoke of - the one who gave us the positions… who was it?”

Alexander smiled softly. “I think you know, Hutch.”

Hutch inhaled deeply. He nodded, looking somber for a moment, then left.

The darkspawn were approaching. After leading the army to Redcliffe, where the scouts reported the darkspawn horde was headed, the Wardens discovered that their scouts had been deceived - the Archdemon had deceived them and brought the darkspawn horde in behind the Warden's army to strike at the city they had just left largely unprotected: the capital city of Denerim. Turning the army about and leading them on a forced march back to Denerim, the Warden found that the horde of darkspawn had already begun to sack the city. And so they readied themselves to take back their city.

The army gathered outside of Denerim for one last speech by the King and Princess Consort. Carmen spoke mostly, and despite the way Hutch still felt for her, he was encouraged by her words. She was a good leader. No matter what he wished happened, he could not deny that she belonged up there, next to the King. Ferelden needed her far more than he did, and so he had to set aside his desires, no matter how much it killed him to see her standing next to her future husband.

The men were gathered in their units just hours before the fight. Denerim lay far to the north of them, yet they could see the smoke rising from the city. It would be a battle to end all battles, everyone knew as much. Hutch stood with his men when he heard that familiar voice behind him.

“Ser Duval.”

The entire unit fell quiet. They turned to see the Princess Consort standing before them. Each man quickly sank to a knee, Hutch joining them. She waved her hand. “At ease, boys.” She winked at them.

They all looked surprised, but did as she said. Hutch rose to his full height. “How man I be of service to you, Princess Consort?”

“You can join me on a walk.”

Hutch looked surprised for a moment, but nodded. She gestured to the woods to their left. Leaving an order for his men to stay put, he joined her on a walk through the trees.

They walked in silence for a while. Hutch kept his eyes trained forward, doing all he could not to meet Carmen’s gaze. She played with her hands in front of her as they meandered aimlessly, weaving through the trees.

Hutch was the first one to break the silence. “I wished to thank you for the opportunity to lead my own unit, Princess Consort. I am honored to serve Ferelden in such a manner.” He finally glanced to her.

She smiled softly. “You are a good knight, Hutch. You and Rowan both deserved it.”

He nodded. They kept walking.

“Do you remember my brother’s party a few years ago?” Carmen suddenly asked. Hutch looked down to her. “The masquerade ball. The one where you had saved my life by interrupting my dance with that dreadfully boring man.”

Hutch could not help but chuckle slightly. “I remember that night.” It was the first time they had ever truly spoken to each other. It was the first night Hutch had realized he had fallen in love with her.

“It was the first time we danced together,” she said. Her eyes looked off into the distance in front of them, remembering the time so long ago. She stopped walking and finally looked up to him. “It is one of my most cherished memories,” she said quietly.

Hutch stopped walking, meeting her gaze. He let his guard drop and he looked at her with that same expression he always had - the one that very clearly spoke of how much he loved her.

“Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Howe had not attacked my home. I wonder if we would have… If I would have chosen someone different.” Carmen looked at him, tenderly. She lifted up a hand and gently brushed it along his cheek, moving the strands of hair from his face. He gently leaned into her touch.

“Perhaps we will have a better chance together in the next life.” She smiled weakly. Hutch sighed and closed his eyes. If this was the last chance he ever had to be with her, he wanted to remember the feeling of her touch against his skin. Suddenly, he felt her pulled him down to her level, and she placed a kiss on his cheek. He opened his eyes and smiled softly.

“We should return. It is about time we take back Denerim,” she said, releasing him. He nodded and stepped back.

“Maker be with you today, Hutch.”

“Maker be with you, Carmen.”

With one final, somber smile, she walked out of the woods.

Hutch waited a few minutes before he returned to his unit. Rowan and his men were nearby, waiting for the signal of the Kind. Hutch approached Rowan and held out a hand. Rowan clasped his arm.

“Let’s give those dawkspawn hell, Brother.”

Hutch smiled. “If I die today, I will be honored to die fighting next to you.”

“Like hell that’s going to happen. We are going to meet at the tavern once this is all over.”

Hutch chuckled. “I look forward to it, Brother.”

The smiled at each other for a moment before Rowan pulled him into a hug. Hutch patted his back and they pulled back after a moment, nodding to each other.

And then it was time to fight. The plan was simple: slay the darkspawn, and keep them away from the Gray Wardens.

It was a brutal fight. Hutch and his men stayed tight, together, moving before the Gray Wardens to slay a path for them. Hutch’s men dwindled as the fight wore on, but they kept going. Protect the Gray Wardens. Protect the King. Kill the Archdemon. Simple enough.

At one point, amidst the battle, a loud roar echoed through the field. A large darkspawn charged into the field. He was not as big as a troll, but he was larger than any other darkspawn. He carried a huge sword, slaughtering enemies in his path. Hutch had just cut off the head of a darkspawn when he noticed the large beast set his sights on a particular Gray Warden across the field.

The King.

Hutch didn’t hesitate. He sprinted across the field, running parallel to the huge darkspawn. The beast didn’t notice him, eyes set on Alistair. The King was too busy fighting off a group of darkspawn to notice the incoming attacker. Hutch’s feet pounded across the pavement, just barely keeping up with the darkspawn. It raised its huge as it approached the King and swung down.

Hutch stepped before the darkspawn, smacking away the sword. Alistair turned around when he heard the clinking of sword against sword. Hutch waved at him. “Go! We will hold the square!” He turned back to block another blow from the darkspawn, arms aching from the impact. Alistair wasted no time in rushing away, joining the rest of his group.

Hutch kept his engagement with the beast as long as possible. He kept on the defensive, swatting away the massive sword when he could. Suddenly, the beast threw its hand and struck him across the face, causing him to stumble. The Darkspawn thrusted his sword into Hutch’s gut, sinking his massive weapon deep into his abdomen. Hutch released a loud, agonized yell.

I won’t go down so easily.

Hutch grabbed onto the sword impaled into his abdomen. He forced himself further onto the sword, the tip of the darkspawn’s weapon breaking through his back. He ignored the pain, sinking further and further onto the sword, until he was within distance. The darkspawn, surprised by the human, paused. Now closer to the body of the darkspawn, Hutch raised his sword and sank it deep into the monster’s chest. It screamed with pain and Hutch threw all of his weight into the beast, sinking his sword deeper into the vile flesh. It dropped its sword, Hutch with it, and fell to the ground.

Hutch staggered. The weight of the sword brought him to his knees. He fell to the side, slamming against the hard ground. The sword through his body disallowed him to roll onto his back, and so he laid there on his side, resigned to watching the battle before him. The sounds of war dimmed and he breathed heavily, pain wrenching his gut. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable death to come.

"Hutch."

He shivered. A soft voice called his name. He still felt pain in his stomach, reminding him that he was still alive. He forced his eyes to open. Among the bloodied battlefield stood a beautiful woman before him. She kneeled down, her face coming into view. Carmen looked down to him, a frown creasing her lips. “Oh, Hutch,” she spoke tenderly. Not a drop of blood stained her face or her dress. “Why would you sacrifice yourself like that?”

“It was - it was my duty to protect the King,” he answered. She sighed and placed a hand on his face. Her touch was warm, soothing. The pain in his stomach fled, his focus on the beautiful woman before him.

“What was the real reason, Hutch?”

He inhaled a deep breath. “Because… because you deserve someone to… to love you for the rest of your life.”

She looked at him tenderly, stroking his face. He lifted his hand to touch hers, but instead of feeling her warm skin, he was met with the cold touch of his own face. In a blink of an eye, Carmen had disappeared. He sighed and closed his eyes. Death could not come soon enough.

A voice awoke him again. This time it was deep, thunderous, and full of fear. He heard the sound of feet pounding against the pavement, moving towards him. “Brother!” his friend called. He opened his eyes to see Rowan kneel beside him.

“Brother, it is all right. I will get you to a doctor and we will have you patched up in time to get you to that tavern.”

“Rowan, wait - “

Rowan moved to grab Hutch, but the moment he moved him, Hutch released an agonized yell. “Rowan - Rowan, stop! I can’t.. I can’t, it hurts too much..”

“Then I will go get someone. Wait here--”

“Rowan.” Hutch reached out a hand and grabbed his friend’s arm, stopping him before he could rise. “Don’t… I won’t make it. Look at me. I have no chance.”

“No,” Rowan said, resolute. “You will live. I will not drink alone tonight.”

Hutch would have laughed if it didn’t hurt so much. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it tonight.”

“Like hell you won’t. Alexander is around here somewhere - if anyone can save you, he--”

“Rowan, please,” Hutch begged, grasping his arm harder. “It is no use. Just.. stay with me. Please. I don’t want to be alone. Stay with me.”

Rowan frowned. He nodded, settling down next to his friend. He grabbed Hutch’s hand and held it firmly. Hutch sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He shook slightly. His face was growing paler by the moment.

“The Archdemon was slayed,” Rowan said. Hutch opened his eyes.

“We won?”

“We won, Brother.”

Hutch smiled slightly, then it died away. “The King… Did he…?”

“He survived,” Rowan said. “And so did she.”

Hutch sighed with relief. He nodded, his face brushing against the pool of his own blood.

“There has one thing I have always wanted to say to you,” Hutch said. HIs voice grew weaker as time passed. “You… you have been a terrible friend.”

Rowan laughed, a sad chuckle. “I love you too, Brother.” He placed his hand on Hutch’s shoulder, gripping tightly.

Hutch smiled weakly. He coughed, blood seeping through his mouth. The pain was numb now. All he felt was tiredness. And so he gave into that feeling, letting his eyes close for the last time.

#vermidian #omg sorry #not sorry #titled regret cause i regret writing this #this took me WEEKS

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

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One month. It had been one month since Rowan had asked to court her. At first, it was completely awkward. Neither of them knew how to act in a relationship. For her it was because she had never been in one; him because he had never seen a girl longer than a week. But somehow they made it work. Dates here and there. Breakfast at the bakery. Rowan came to visit the Carmen’s shop more often. A few stolen kisses when no one was looking. Nothing official yet - just spending time, learning more and more about one another.

Honestly, Silme was still surprised he chose her.. She did not seem his type - at all. Sometimes she wondered how long it would be until he grew tired of her and decided to go back to his life of flittering from woman to woman. He didn’t appear to be bored, yet… she wasn’t sure where they stood at the moment. They were courting, sure, but beyond that, Rowan hadn’t said anything, and Silme didn’t want to scare him off by having “a talk.” She figured if he wanted to make it official, he would. Until then she was going to enjoy their time together. However much that was.

One morning, Rowan was walking her home from their traditional Wednesday Breakfast at Adora’s bakery - breakfast consisting of a basket of lemon poppy seeds, as always - when they stopped in front of her door. Usually Rowan spent the afternoon hanging out at her house or went with her to shop for food, but today he picked up a guard duty for one of the visiting nobles, so their day together ended at her front door.

He apologized for not being able to stay. She was in the middle of telling him it was all right when she touched a spot on her hip. “Oh,” she looked down at the empty space, “my coin purse is missing. I must have left it back at Adora’s.”

“She should still have it. I can run back and--“

She waved a hand. “No, it’s fine. I can get it.”

“Are you sure? The nobles can wait a few extra minutes. Maker knows they have made me wait before.” He scrunched his face at the recollection of having to wait on many, many occasions.

She nodded. “I am sure. Go, do your duty, or whatever. You can’t keep your title as ‘greatest knight ever’ if you show up late for guard details.”

Rowan grinned at the title, but a look of reluctance appeared. “Well… fine. But if you get in trouble again, I’m not coming to save you.”

“You are so nice. Truly. A real noble guy,” Silme said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

“I try,” he smirked. He paused, glancing at their immediate area, before looking back to Silme. Suddenly, he bent down and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. Winking, he jogged off.

Silme watched him go, permitting herself to smile ever so slightly. With that, she headed back to Adora’s bakery.

The men jumped her before she even made it halfway.

First thing she felt when she came to was the splitting headache. Next she felt the cold, hard floor jabbing at her shoulder and hip. Slowly her eyes opened, revealing a blurry world before her. She blinked once, twice, three times, attempting to refocus her eyes. When they finally unblurred, she was greeted by the familiar sight of the inside of a jail cell. Of course. Why wouldn’t she be anywhere else?

Everything hurt when she moved. She winced in pain, forcing herself to sit up. The chatter of a group of men drowned out her pained grunts as she shifted to an upright position. Eight, maybe nine guards stood outside the cells, all appearing to be waiting for something. Or someone. Silme kept her movements small, her noises quiet, so she could hear the men and not draw any attention to herself. More attention just meant more beatings.

“Do you think he will actually show up?” asked the closest guard to her cell.

“He did last time,” a bald guard replied. He had a bitter look on his face.

“Why would he care about her?”

“Because they are friends, idiot. They have a whole group. Why wouldn’t he come get his friend?”

“I heard someone say they are courtin’,” another guard jumped in. “In secret, though. Don’t want their little affair gettin’ out, I heard.

The closest guard let out a loud bark of laughter. “I refuse to believe it. Why would Rowan date that?” He threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to Silme. She winced, but not because of a physical injury.

“So, why are we using her to get him in here if he doesn’t even care about her?”

A familiar voice broke through the crowd. “Because he is an arrogant ass, that’s why.”

Reynolds. Not surprising.

Reynolds was barely visible, but she could hear him loud and clear. “That man loves his ego more than anything else, and he will jump at the chance to show off his muscles. The minute he hears she’s in here, he will come in, puff out his chest, make a big show demanding her release, and maybe even take a swing at a few of us.” Most of the guards frowned at the thought of being punched by the knight. “That is when we jump him and haul his ass in jail for assaulting guards. We are finally getting our payback, boys.”

“How do you know he won’t kick our asses?” a noticeably concerned guard asked.

“Yeah, I ‘eard he took on four men at once an’ ‘ardly broke a sweat.”

A scoff came from Reynold’s direction. “That’s a myth. And even if it was true, he can’t take on all of us. I took him down once with only six men - and he had that useless friend with the broken leg with him. This will be easy.”

Worry creased Silme’s forehead. Rowan couldn’t fight eight guys. It just was not possible. Silme wanted Rowan to come for her - she hoped he did - but she hoped he was smart enough to try and resolve it peacefully. Which, knowing Rowan, was about as possible as him taken on twenty guys by himself. She hoped he would at least bring backup.

Hours passed by. Silme was passed out for half of it, coming to when she felt rocks hitting her face. The guards had grown bored and decided to start throwing things at her. She tried to turn away from them, yet their throwing didn’t cease. Men began to complain of hunger and boredness. Reynolds snapped at them, assuring them Rowan would come.

Silme began to doubt it herself. Maybe he wouldn’t come. Maybe he didn’t care for her as much as it seemed. The way he looked at her, though, as if… She could have been mistaken. She could have read it all wrong. This could have just been a fling for him. To test out a relationship. See if he really cared about tying himself down to one woman. Whatever it was, it didn’t look like he was coming for her. If she was lucky, Alexander would hear about it and he would come get her. She would just have to survive until then.

A loud crash caused everyone to jump. Silme turned around to see the all eight pairs of eyes focused on one spot to the left of her cell, where the door was. It sounded like someone kicked the door in. Thumping echoed the room. Suddenly a large blur flew past her cell, slamming into the group of men, knocking three guys over. One guard was caught by the blur and pushed away, out of Silme’s line of vision. There was another crash and a thump, the sound of a man hitting the floor.

Swallowing her pain, she pressed against the wall and forced herself to a stand. Her hand dragged against the wall as she stepped forward, peering out of the bars. There Rowan stood, an unconscious guard slumped on the floor behind him. He stared down the remaining guards, his face twisted into rage, eyes burning with fury.

He came for her. He actually came for her.

“What are you idiots waiting for?” spluttered Reynolds, clearly shocked at the sudden attack. “Go!”

Three men converged on Rowan. He sidestepped the first one, throwing him against the wall. The guard bounced off the stone like rubber. The second man threw a right hand haymaker at Rowan, but the knight threw up his arm and blocked it with ease, grabbing the man by the throat with his other hand. He growled, tossing him aside. The third man hesitated. Rowan took the opportunity to grab his shoulders and bring the guard’s head down to meet his knee. His skull ricocheted off the hard bone and he fell to the floor.

The first two men began to stir. Reynolds sent more men forward. Rowan grabbed a chair to his left, and with a furious yell, smashed it into the side of a guard. Pieces of wood flew about and Silme had to shield her eyes from rogue splinters. More men dove after Rowan. He dodged their attacks, their fists landing nowhere near him. But his fists made impact with each swing, earning grunts and pained noises from the guards.

Men began to fly across the room. Any chance he had, Rowan hurled them. Pure rage and anger coursed through his veins, rippling his muscles, contorting his face. It was as if a raging bull had stormed through the room. In his anger he seemed to grow several inches. She had never seen him this angry. It almost frightened her.

A man soared through the air, heading straight for Silme. She jumped away from the bars just as he smashed against them, falling to the ground. The impact had drawn Rowan’s attention towards the cell. “Silme!” The anger flushed from his face and for the first time since he arrived, he looked human again. Leaping over an unconscious body, he grabbed the bars with one hand and slid the other through the opening, gently touching her face.

She sighed against his touch, putting her hand on top of his. “I thought you said you weren’t going to save me.”

The knight smiled sadly. “Wait, are you in trouble? I just came in to beat up a few guards. I had no idea you were in here.” He caressed her face, fingers lightly brushing over her black eye. Then a look of determination flashed in his eyes. “I’m getting you out of here. Hang on--”

Several hands grabbed his shoulders. Rowan jerked backwards, his fingers slipping from Silme’s grasp. She shouted his name and lunged forward, attempting to grab him, but two guards dragged him off, slamming him against the back wall. Silme grabbed the bars. The guards pinned the struggling knight to the wall. Reynolds stood in front of him, grinning. His foot connected with Rowan’s gut, and Silme swore she heard ribs cracking. She called Rowan’s name again, but the sound of Reynolds repeatedly beating him drowned out her voice.

Reynolds hit him over and over again, alternating between punches to the face and a kicks to the gut. She couldn’t stand it. Rowan couldn’t get out - he had no upper hand. Suddenly a man next to her began to stand up, groaning as he held his head. She heard a faint jingling sound and saw keys attached to his hip. Snaking her arm through the bars, she grabbed the hem of his shirt and jerked him backwards. His head smacked the iron bars and he let out a cry of pain, slumping to the ground.

The noise caught Reynold’s attention. He looked over his shoulder for a split second, and when he turned back around, Rowan’s foot connected with his face. He stumbled back, hitting the ground. The two guards were startled and Rowan took the opportunity to grab the back of their heads and knock them together. They sank to the floor.

Every man in the room lay unconscious. Every man except Reynolds, who was squirming on the floor. Silme was attempting to retrieve the keys from the guard in front of her when she saw Rowan step over to Reynolds, grab the front of his shirt, and lift him off the ground as if he were a bag of flour. He dragged the screaming guard to the wall, slamming his back against the hard stone.

“How dare you,” Rowan growled, voice trembling with rage. He smashed his fist into Reynolds face. “How dare you take her!” Another fist to Reynold’s face. Blood began to pour from the guard’s nose. “I will kill you. I will kill you for touching my girlfriend!”

Rowan’s enraged voice echoed throughout the room. He punched Reynolds over and over again, the blood from his fist mixing with the blood from Reynold’s face. Reynolds attempted to block one of the punches, but Rowan slammed him against the wall again and resumed his beating.

A hand grabbed Rowan’s fist. He stopped mid-punch, eyes snapping to the person beside him. Silme held his bloody fist in her hand, gently lowering it. He stared at her, breathing hard. His mind seemed to snap out of its rage and he finally looked at her, as if he was noticing her for the first time. His hand released Reynolds and the unconscious guard slid to the floor.

“Rowan,” she spoke quietly, attempting to calm him down. His anger slowly drifted from his face, worry replacing his expression.

He grabbed her, eyes searching her face for injuries. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“Yes, a little bit, but I’m--”

“I’ll kill them.” His hands gripped her arms. The fire burned in his eyes again. “I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them all for touching you--”

“Rowan, calm down,” Silme touched his face. She made him look at her. “Rowan, please. I want to go home, okay? Just take me home. Please. I want to go…”

Her legs gave out and the world turned dark.

When she opened her eyes again, she felt warmth against her face. Her head was leaning against a man’s chest. Shifting her eyes up, she saw Rowan’s face, barely illuminated by the light from the moon above. He was carrying her through the streets of Cottonwine. His face was steel, traces of his previous anger remaining. She put her hand on his chest and he looked down to her. His face immediately softened.

“Hey,” he greeted softly, a look of worry creasing his brow.

“Hey,” she greeted in return. His body felt warm against hers. It was comforting. Safe.

A few seconds of silence passed. “So. Girlfriend, huh?”

Rowan’s eyes flickered to her. “Yeah.. that kind of just… came out. I don’t expect… I mean only if you are okay with it--I know it’s only been a month--”

“I like the sound of it,” Silme cut him off. He let out a sigh of relief, smiling to her. She patted his chest and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of being in his arms.

This time he was the one who broke the silence. “That will never happen again.” Silme opened her eyes, their gazes meeting. “I will never let them or anyone else hurt you ever again. You have my word.”

The smallest smile cracked her lips. “Does that mean you will stop being a huge jerk to me?”

He smirked. “Will you stop poking holes in my ego?”

“I can’t make that promise.”

Rowan chuckled softly. She felt the laugh vibrate deep in his chest. He shifted her in his arms, pulling her close. He winced, probably because of his cracked rib, but he brushed the pain aside. “Good. Otherwise we might get bored with each other.” He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. She wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head on the shoulders.

In that moment, any doubt she had about their relationship was gone, replaced by the warmth and care of her boyfriend.

#vermidian #30 Day Prompt #rolme #omg still so hard writing for silme #i hope i didn't make her seem really helpless #i just really wanted an enraged rowan #alekjralkrjera #these two will kILL ME

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

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Rowan and Hutch strolled through the active streets of Corbenic. They knew the streets fairly well, for it was a kingdom they had visited frequently due to the nature of their work. Corbenic was no Cottonwine, but it was one of the better places to go when assigned escort duty. They had just arrived earlier that morning, dropping off the couple they were guarding. Now they wandered the town, taking the afternoon to see the goods Corbenic had to offer.

Hutch noticed a proud look on Rowan’s face. His eyebrow arched. “You look pleased,” he observed.

“You would be too if you just bought the perfect gift for your wife.” Rowan puffed his chest.

“The perfect gift?”

“Yes,” Rowan nodded, “the perfect gift. It will be our anniversary the day we return, and since we are expecting, I wanted to get her something special.”

Hutch looked amused. “So you got her a sword?”

Rowan glanced down at the weapon attached to his hip. “Yes. Why is that hard to understand?”

“Could you not just have your brother make her one?”

Rowan opened his mouth, then paused, “Well… yes. But not this sword. This sword is different,” he pointed out, gesturing to it. “It is the perfect length and weight for her. When she can take up a sword again, no man will stand a chance. Except me.” To that, Hutch gave him a sideways look. Rowan furrowed his eyebrows. “And it was originally crafted for a Lady in Spain.”

Hutch didn’t seem the least bit impressed. “You know Silme is technically a Lady, yes? Any sword crafted for her would be just as valuable, if not more personal.”

The blond knight huffed with annoyance. “Stop ruining my gift. Do you think you could buy a better present for your wife?”

Hutch held up his hand. Dangling from his fingers glistened a beautiful golden necklace accented with red jewels. Rowan merely frowned, grunted, and returned his eyes to the road ahead.

Hutch could not help but chuckle. He gave Rowan’s arm a smack. “Calm down, Brother. You know I am jesting. I have no doubt that Silme will love her present.” Rowan just huffed.. “Come now, we have dallied long enough. Let us retrieve the chest Sir Wymore requested and head home. I have been away from my family longer than I care for.”

They were on the road shortly thereafter. A large chest sat on the back of Rowan's abnormally large stallion. It was a three day journey back to Cottonwine, and the first two days proved to be uneventful. On the third day, they came across a carriage turned over on the side of the road. A woman lay next to the carriage, face down. The boys exchanged a quick glance before dismounting.

They approached the carriage. Rowan did a quick check inside to see if anyone else was there while Hutch kneeled down next to the woman. He placed two fingers on her neck. "She is alive," he called out.

"The carriage is clear," Rowan called back. He returned to Hutch's side just as Hutch rolled the woman over on her back. Blood and dirt covered her face, and yet she carried no cuts, no wounds. Rowan placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The woman began to stir. She blinked awake, and then flinched when she saw the two knights staring at her. "It's all right, you are safe. We are Knights of the King,” Hutch soothed.

Mild panic filled her eyes. Suddenly, she sat up and frantically grabbed Hutch's shoulders. Rowan stepped forward but Hutch held up a hand, staying him. "You have to help me!" she shouted, "Please, help!"

"It is all right, ma'am. Calm down. We are here to help," Hutch tried to calm her, but she just shook him harder, rambling on.

Rowan's ear twitched with the sounds of rustling from the trees. He looked to where he heard the noise, peering into the shadows. He saw the very faint outline of a man crouched in the trees. When he saw what the man was doing, his eyes widened. "Hutch!" he barely had time to shout as he stepped in front of his friend. An arrow whirred through the air and sunk into Rowan's arm. He let out an agonized yell.

Hutch turned his attention to Rowan. The moment he did, he felt a sharp pain jab into his abdomen. The woman had stabbed him with a knife. He quickly shoved her back, stumbling to the ground. More arrows began to whiz by. Rowan grabbed the back of Hutch's shirt and dragged him around the carriage, away from the arrows. They both slumped against the cart.

"Damn it," Hutch grumbled, pulling the knife out of his stomach. The cool metal burned on its way out. Grunting, Rowan snapped the arrow in his arm in half. It wasn't bleeding nearly as much as Hutch's wound, but it still left a trickle of blood down his arm.

"They must want the chest," Hutch stated.

Rowan looked furious. "Over my dead body."

"I think that's their plan."

The arrows ceased. Silence ensued. Grabbing hold of Rowan, Hutch pulled them to a stand. They both pulled out their swords.

Two men rounded either sides of the cart. They deflected their blows, each knight taking a different man. They made quick work of them, but more began to show up. Rowan sliced his sword across the chest of the second man when he noticed one of them approaching their horses. The man was going for the chest.

Before Rowan could reach the man, his horse began to buck. It whined at the approaching thief. The man reached for the chest on the back of back end of the horse, then received a prompt kick in the face. He was unconscious immediately.

"Very good, Turstin!" Rowan patted the stallion's neck.

A sword swiped by his head. He jumped back, dodging its sharp edge. Rowan threw up his sword and blocked the next swing. He could hear Hutch's sword clinking against another sword back by the cart. The thief lunged forward, jabbing at Rowan. Rowan sidestepped, hooked his sword along the thief's hilt, and twisted. The sword flew out of the man's hands. He backed up and Rowan grinned triumphantly.

But then the thief looked to Rowan's horse. Poking out of one of the bags was the hilt of another sword. Silme's sword.

"Don’t--!"

The thief grabbed Silme's sword and started swinging. Rowan dodged, quickly stepping out of the way. He started dancing away from the sword, refusing to use own sword to block. But the man kept swinging, and swinging, and eventually he started nicking him. He couldn’t dodge the man forever. Rowan had no choice. Grimacing, he threw up his sword and blocked before it hit his face. He didn't want to ruin his wife's new sword, but he didn't want to lose his limbs, either. Or his life. He was going to have to go on the offensive.

The man swung the sword horizontally. Rowan stepped back, the sword barely missing his midsection. He quickly blocked an incoming blow towards his shoulder. The man thrusted the sword at Rowan’s exposed stomach, but the knight forcefully slapped the sword out of the way. The man stumbled. With his torso exposed, Rowan slid his sword across his chest, leaving a shallow gash. The man let out a scream and clutched his chest. Rowan thrust his sword at his stomach. The man sidestepped at the last moment, grabbed Rowan’s wrist, and smashed his fist in the knight’s face.

Rowan dropped his sword, stumbling. He felt a sharp pain slice his left side, right at his ribs. It wasn’t a deep cut but it would definitely bleed. Grunting, Rowan backed up. The man now had a sword - his wife’s sword - and Rowan had nothing but half an arrow embedded in his arm and his bare fists. That would be more more than enough.

The thief brought the sword down in a horizontal arc. Rowan stepped in, grabbed the man’s sword arm, and sent an uppercut right into his jaw. He kicked the man square in the chest, right on his open wound, sending him flying. The thief rammed against the back end of Rowan’s horse. Turstin began to panic; he brayed, kicked, and wined loudly. The commotion scared Hutch’s horse, and the two animals took off. They were halfway down the road before Rowan could even take a step after them. They disappeared a moment later.

Rowan cursed loudly. Great, there went the horses.

A loud scream of agony caused Rowan to spin around. Panic swelled in his chest when he didn’t see Hutch. He was about to run to find his friend when a bloody man appeared from behind the fallen carriage. Hutch leaned against the carriage, his face pale and half of his shirt soaked in blood. Rowan jogged over to him.

“What took you so long?” the blond knight said. “I finished with my guys ages ago.”

A weak grin graced Hutch’s lips. He tried to speak, but he was too busy focusing on breathing. He clutched the side of his stomach. Blood seeped through his fingers. His eyes focused on something behind Rowan; he scowled. “Where are the horses?”

“I might have, uhh… scared them off.”

“Oh, good. I wanted to walk home with a giant hole in my stomach. That’s great. Thank you.”

Rowan furrowed his eyebrows. He opened his mouth to retaliate, but stopped when Hutch sagged against the carriage, nearly falling over. Rowan quickly grabbed him, propping him up. “I’m fine, I’m.. agh,” Hutch grunted.

“All right, time to patch you up. No way am I going to carry you all the way home.”

Finding one of the dead thieves, Rowan ripped up their clothing, creating a makeshift bandage for Hutch. They made one for Rowan’s side, as well, and even wrapped up his arm - after he pulled out the arrow, holding back a painful yell. Once they were (sort of) patched up, they put their arms around each other, sharing their weight in order to keep upright. And so they headed home.

Rowan stopped them before they got too far. “Wait, I forgot - hang on--“

He released Hutch and headed back to the place he fought the wo thieves, looking for his wife’s sword. He found it, then headed back to a scowling Hutch. “All right, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Then they headed home.

———

A long yawn wafted out of Silme’s mouth. She rolled out of bed, pausing to stretch her stiff muscles. Bones cracked and joints popped. Placing her feet on the cool floor, she padded her way to the living room.

Several cats greeted her. “Good morning. You guys hungry?” She scratched the heads of a few of them before heading to the kitchen. She opened the cabinet, retrieving some fish, and closed the door with a loud noise. A voice behind her groaned in annoyance. She nearly jumped, whirling around.

Sprawled out in the middle of her living room floor was her husband. He lay face down, a cat curled up on his back. A small grin graced Silme’s lips. “Well, look at what the cat dragged in.”

“Ha-ha,” he grumbled into the ground.

She walked over to him and crouched down. Brushing back the hair covering his face, she saw the black-and-blue bruise lining his eye. “Rough trip, honey?”

The black eye looked up at her. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

She tucked his hair behind his ear, gently touching his skin with her fingers. Then she noticed the bandage wrapped around his arm. It was soaked in bright red blood. She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Your arm seems to suggest otherwise.”

Rowan lifted up his head to look at his arm. He groaned, head falling back to the ground. “Damn squires don’t know how to bandage a simple wound.”

“Luckily for you, Sir Knight, you married someone who does. Come on, up.” She helped the grumbling knight to a stand. Pheonix meowed and jumped off his back, angry that his bed was being moved. “Shirt off,” she commanded. She helped Rowan pull it over his head. Another bandage was wrapped around his torso; this one wasn’t bleeding profusely.

Rowan looked down to her with hooded eyes and a grin. “I’m home all of twelve seconds and you are taking my shirt off. Someone really missed me.” Silme rolled her eyes. She pushed him towards the pillow pit. He shuffled slowly, clearly exhausted. “Wait, I thought you said I wasn’t allowed in your pillow pit with a fresh wound anymore.”

“Don’t bleed on my pillows and we won’t have a problem. Sit.” She shoved him down into the pit. He let out a soft groan and propped his head against the wall.

Silme went into the kitchen, grabbed what she needed to redo his wound, then set to work. Rowan sat with his eyes closed, breathing slowly. She removed the dirty bandage and began to clean his arm. “Bandits?”

“They pulled the woman-in-trouble trick.” He cracked open an eye. “A guy hiding in the trees shot me in the arm and the woman stabbed Hutch in the stomach.”

Silme’s eyes widened slightly. “Is he okay?”

Rowan nodded. “I had to carry him the last few miles home, but he’s fine. Carmen showed up at the barracks as the squires were bandaging him up. I swear, that woman can sense when he’s hurt. Why can’t you do that?”

“Because Carmen loves her husband way more than I do.”

Rowan pouted. She grinned slightly.

They sat in silence for several moments as she wrapped his arm. “Hey,” he said quietly. She felt a hand rest on her stomach. “How are you doing? Is everything okay?”

She was barely four months along and yet he still worried. “I’m fine. Honest. I saw Alexander yesterday and he said we are both doing well.”

A sad frown creased his lips. “I’m sorry I left. I tried to get out of it, but there was no one else--“

“Hey, calm down,” Silme hushed him. She put her hand on top of his. “It’s okay, really. I spent a few days at Carmen’s. We both agree that life just isn’t the same with both of our husbands out of town.”

Rowan smiled slightly. He took her hand and brought it up to his lips, softly kissing her knuckles. He released her hand so she could finish wrapping his arm.

Suddenly his face lit up. “I almost forgot - I bought you something.”

She arched her eyebrows. “Did you really?”

“It’s over there. Hang on, I’ll...” He started to sit up, but Silme put a hand on his chest and pushed him back.

“You stay. I got it.” She got up and went back to where she found him. A wrapped up sword sat on the floor. She picked it up, pulling off the dirty cloth. “Oh.”

“Do you like it?” He looked at her, smiling proudly.

She tilted the sword, examining it. “It’s.. covered in blood.”

Rowan furrowed his eyebrows. “What? Bring it here.”

She walked back and handed him the sword. He held it with both hands, feeling its weight. It was heavy. Holding it close, he saw the dried blood and dents in the metal. A look of dismay washed over his face. “Aw, damn it. I picked up the wrong sword.” He pouted. His head fell back and hit the wall with a dull thud. “Ow.”

“You got me a sword?”

He sighed. “Yeah, I bought it back in Corbenic. It was the perfect size and weight and it was made specially for some lady in… whatever country. It was the perfect anniversary gift. Maker, I’m an idiot.” He pouted, obviously upset by his mistake.

She almost laughed. Carefully lowering herself into the pit, she sat so she could face him. “Hey.” She put a hand on his chest, right above the bandage. He looked at her. “I appreciate the thought, but really, the only present I wanted was for you to come home in one piece. And look, I got what I wanted… Sort of.” She nodded her head to his wrapped up arm. He smiled slightly.

“You know what I want for my anniversary present?” he said.

“And what is that?”

Rowan lifted up his hand and tapped his lips with his finger. She rolled her eyes but permitted herself to smile softly. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his lips. He slipped his hand around her neck, thumb brushing her cheek.

“Happy anniversary,” he said softly.

“Happy anniversary, you big idiot,” she whispered in return.

Rowan just chuckled, pulling her into his arms.

#vermidian #30 days #rolme #enjoy friieeennnnd #omg i love these two so much

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

Photo

“The blizzard is only getting worse, Father.”

Two men stood before the snow-covered window. From their view up at the castle, all they could see was a pure white sheet covering the entire kingdom. Wind whipped at the windows, howling, sending streams of snow down at a rapid speed. The storm had been progressively worsening throughout the day. No one dared go outside.

The older of the two men furrowed his eyebrows slightly, a contemplative look on his face.

The younger man - arguably the spitting image of the elder man - turned to look at his father. “You are still not considering going out in that, are you?” he asked, sounding as if he couldn’t even believe someone would entertain the thought.

Hutch gave Leo a sideways look.

“You can’t be serious,” Leo said. “You wouldn’t be able to see, let alone take a step out the door.”

“I must get back,” Hutch simply said, looking back at the storm.

Leo shook his head in disbelief. “It is far too dangerous; and it’s already getting late. Why don’t you come stay with me tonight? The children would love to see their grandfather.”

Hutch smiled slightly, amused at his son’s attempt to use his grandchildren as an incentive. It nearly worked. “I would love to visit them, Son. Truly. But I have to go home - you know I do.” He was silent for a few moments, watching as the snow blew past. “In my thirty years of marriage, there has not been a night I have not returned home to your mother.” Except for the nights he was traveling for work - and even then he counted the days until she was in his arms again.

Leo leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and looked to his father with admiration. “The only other place you could find a truer love than my parent’s is in a fairy tale,” he observed.

Hutch let out an amused huff. “Your Uncle Rowan has always said that to me.”

“I know,” Leo said, “that’s where I got it from.” He paused to look out the window once again. “If I cannot persuade you to stay, then allow me to arrange a carriage for you.”

“The horses won’t move in this kind of weather,” Hutch informed him.

“That should be a hint to you, then,” Leo pointed out. Hutch just raised an eyebrow to him. “Fine, if I can’t persuade you, then I’m coming with you.”

“No, Lionell, you are not,” Hutch refuted. “You spend far too much time as it is away from your family. Go home to them tonight. Be with your kids, your wife, and your unborn child.” He placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder, “Trust me, Son, when I say you want to take every moment you can with them. I speak from experience. When I was a young Advisor I spent far too much time working and not enough with my family - and it nearly killed me. Don’t make that mistake.”

Leo nodded. Then looked at his father for a long moment, his face betraying his concern, before he sighed. “Be careful out there. Make it home safely.”

“I’ve faced far worse than this, my son. But you have my word,” Hutch smiled softly. Still grabbing Leo’s shoulder, he pulled him into a hug. The men embraced for a long moment before Leo pulled away, patting his father on the arm.

The journey was just as Lionell warned. The snow was thick, nearly too hard to walk through; the freezing temperature nipped at every part of his body; and the whipping winds and snow all but blinded him. But that did not deter him. He trekked his way through the empty snow-covered streets of Cottonwine, slowly, exerting only as much energy as his old bones could handle. He traveled through the rings of the city, past the outer walls, and out into the plains.

As he grew nearer to his home, the blizzard beat him harder, wearing away what little energy he held onto. He pushed on, arms tightly wrapped around his torso, his body shaking from the cold. At one point he looked up to see how far away his cottage was, when he spotted a figure heading closer to him. Hutch’s eyes widened, fear coarsing through his body. His pace quickened and he tried to run through the storm, towards the figure, but the thick powder underneath grabbed a hold of him and sent his face into the ground.

Two hands grabbed his arm and peeled him from the icy grip of the snow. He struggled to a stand, holding onto the person next to him. When he finally regained his footing, he saw the snow-covered face of his wife. “Are you all right?” she shouted over the deafening howl of the wind.

Hutch, however, looked at her with a face of utter confound. “What are you doing out here?!” he shouted, panicked, grabbing a hold of her. She shouted something back to him, but the ferocious wind had suddenly picked up and drowned out all sound. Carmen began to pull them towards their cottage, but Hutch yanked his arm free from her grasp and began to strip his jacket off his shoulders. She shouted something at him again, a look of confusion mixed with anger, yet her words were drowned out by the blizzard.

Jacket removed, he threw it over her shoulders. Then he removed his cloak and wrapped it tightly around her, pinning her in his arms. She obviously protested the gesture - he was now standing in the middle of a raging blizzard in only one layer of clothing - but he ignored her, held on tight, and lead her up the hill and to their cottage.

They nearly fell through the front door. Carmen began to shake the snow off of her as Hutch fought to close the front door. When it was finally shut, he rounded on his wife. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” Carmen furrowed her eyebrows, “You’re the one who is walking through the whole kingdom in a blizzard!”

Hutch looked furious. “What the hell were you doing outside? You know you can’t be out there!”

She scowled at him, brushing off the last of the snow from her clothes. “When I saw my sixty-three-year-old husband stumbling through a blizzard I thought he might need my help. And I was right,” she said, pointedly.

“You shouldn’t have done that! Do you know what you might have done? Being out there like that in your–”

“I’m fine, Hutch,” Carmen inerrupted.

“No you’re not. No you’re not and you know it. You–”

“I’m fine.”

“Didn’t you even think for one second what that might have done to you–”

“Hutch, really–”

“–you know what the doctor–”

“Hutch.”

“–reckless, absolutely reckless and idiotic and–”

“Hutch!”

“–you could be killing yourself even sooner!”

They both fell silent. The anger on Hutch’s face began to dissipate, replaced with a frown. They stared at each other for several long moments, unmoving. Hutch finally took in a quick inhale and ran his hand across his mouth, stepping back, eyes falling down. He let out a shaky breath. Carmen watched him and sighed, frowning softly.

“Hutch. Sweetheart. Come here,” Carmen spoke soothingly, stepping closer. He didn’t move. “Come now, look at me.” Gently touching his chin, she moved his head to face her. He looked absolutely heartbroken. “Hutch, I am fine. How many times must I tell you that? The doctor said I was getting better, not worse. That’s a good thing, darling.” She tenderly caressed his cheek and he leaned into her touch. She moved her hands to his scalp, brushing back his wet hair. “You worry far too much for your own good, I swear.”

He tried to not look at her with a sad expression, but he couldn’t help it. She gave him a reassuring smile and rocked onto the tip of her toes, placing a kiss on his nose. It burned her lips with a cold sensation. She touched her mouth, “Oh, goodness, you’re so cold!” She pressed a hand to his forehead and felt it was cold as ice. Carmen then looked down to his clothes. “And you are absolutely soaked. All right, we are getting you out of these clothes.” She patted his wet chest. “Come on, let’s get you changed, and you can tell me how our son is doing.”

They did as she said and stripped him down of his wet clothes, Carmen dressing him in warmer, comfier ones. Hutch insisted she change as well, which she did. They were laying their wet clothes over the grate in front of the fireplace when Carmen looked to him. “Why did you walk all that way from the castle in a snowstorm?” she asked, even though she was certain she knew the answer.

He looked at her tenderly. “Because I always come home,” he answered. She smiled at him lovingly and stroked his arm, squeezing it. He took the opportunity to step towards her and envelop her in a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tightly, both shutting their eyes for the moment.

The fire crackled beside them. Quite some time passed before they released each other - but not fully, for they still stood close, holding on to one another - and Hutch looked down to her. “You need to get to bed,” he said.

Carmen scoffed lightly. “I’ve been in bed all day - I’m tired of it. Come sit with me instead?” she said, although it turned out to be less of a question and more of a statement, for she began to pull him towards their loveseat. He easily compiled and followed her to the seat by the window. She grabbed a blanket and slipped right next to him, placing her head on his chest. He adjusted the blanket to cover her more before he draped his arm over her.

They watched the snow rush by. The blizzard was not letting up. The only sounds they heard was the crackling of the fireplace, the howling of the distant winds outside, and for Carmen, the steady beating of Hutch’s heart.

“You know,” Hutch began, breaking the silence, “my wife was born in a harsh winter, just like this one.”

Carmen laughed and shifted closer, placing her hand on his chest. “Is that so?” she said. “She must be quite the woman to have been born in such circumstances.”

Although she couldn’t see him, he smiled softly. He kissed the her head, placing his hand on top of hers. “You have no idea.”

#vermidian #30 day prompt #carutch #30 day prompt more like lets see 30 dif ways for me to break my fav character #and myself

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

Photo

“Hard to port! Secure the mizzenmast! Make haste – I want to be out of this damn storm!”

The ship rocked under the force of the massive waves. A brutal storm raged on, sending heavy hits on every corner of the Skyview and her crew. Drenched sailors ran frantically about the ship, tying down ropes, untying others, and generally doing all they could just to stay aboard.

The captain of the ship slipped on the drenched surface of the deck. He grabbed on to the nearest mast, steadying himself. Something hard suddenly whipped him in the head, almost knocking him over again. He let out a wild curse and looked up to see a looped chain from the mast flailing about in the storm. He just barely managed to grab hold of hit before it whacked him in the face again.

Squinting from the water in his eyes, the Captain sought out the nearest crewman. “You!” he boomed, voice rising above the noise of the storm. “Secure this parrel!”

“Aye, Cap’n!” The man grabbed the rope from the Captain and set to work. He watched the man for a moment, unable to place a name to the face. He must have been one of the men his first mate brought aboard. Something bothered him about the crewmate, but his mind was too preoccupied by the storm to focus on it.

Touching the sore spot on his wet head, the Captain continued to move across the deck, weaving in and out of running men. “Where’s my first mate?” he called out. No one answered, for they were all consumed with their task at hand.

“Rowan!” The Captain looked to see the very man he was looking for climbing out of a latch from below deck. “The bildge—“

Suddenly the ship was slammed with a massive wave. It rocked on its side, sending men and barrels sliding. Rowan’s first mate, Hutch, lost his footing and slammed against the floor, sliding towards the vast and raging sea. “Hutch!” Rowan released his grip on the ship and ran towards the edge. Anchoring one arm on the railing, he reached out and caught his friend just as he slid off the ship. Instead of going into the water, Hutch slammed against the side of the hull.

The ship finally righted itself. Rowan pulled Hutch back onto the deck. Once Hutch had gained his footing, he clasped Rowan’s arm, a sign of appreciation for saving his life. “Captain,” he began, wasting no more time, “the bildge has begun to leak. If we don’t get out of this storm soon, the ship will surely sink.”

Another curse escaped Rowan’s lips. “Grab some men and head down to the bildge. We either keep this ship afloat, or we are going to be meeting Davy Jones today.”

The storm thrashed and howled for several hours. It’s raging anger wore down both the ship and the hope of the crew; certainly it appeared as if they were all doomed. And then, all of a sudden, it was as if the ship passed through an invisible wall, for the storm moved away in a matter of seconds. The ship was bruised, beaten, and in no better shape than its crew. But still they cheered.

The rest of the day was dedicated to regaining course and repairing the ship. Rowan and Hutch stood at the helm, Rowan surveying the damage. Hutch was listing off the areas of the ship that were the most damaged when a face caught Rowan’s eye.

“Who is that?” Rowan asked. Hutch looked to where Rowan gestured to see a slender, short-haired crewmember working on untying one of the masts.

“That is Silme, one of the people I brought on,” Hutch explained. “Alexander recommended her to me. New to a military ship, but—“

“Did you say ‘her’?”

Hutch paused.

Rowan turned to face Hutch full-on. A dangerous glare formed on his face. “Is that a woman on my ship?”

Hutch could only sigh. “Damn.”

Rowan’s eyebrows knitted together. Without a word he took off down the stairs, barreling through the deck of his ship. Several men had to jump out of his way out of fear of being run down. Hutch hurried after him.

“You!” Rowan bellowed, voice reverberating throughout the ship. The crewmen paused to look at the commotion – including Silme. She saw him coming at full speed and she jumped back, throwing her hands up in a defensive position. But Rowan just grabbed her arm and forcefully dragged her off.

“Hey! What the hell are you–“

“Rowan! Calm down, this isn’t–“ Hutch began, trailing after them, but the captain wouldn’t listen.

He threw Silme into the captain’s quarters. She lost her footing and stumbled, almost running into Rowan’s desk. “What the hell is wrong with you?! You couldn’t have gripped my arm any tighter, you ass?”

“You’re a woman?”

Silme’s face steeled. If she felt any panic, it did not show on her face for even a second. “What? Women aren’t allowed on your ship. I’m not—“

Rowan stepped forward, towering over Silme. She didn’t flinch. “Don’t lie to me, wench. Hutch told me as much.”

Silme blinked. She looked past Rowan to see Hutch entering the captain’s quarters; a guilty look hung on his face. She sighed with exasperation. “Okay, I can explain. Hutch came to me—“

“You are not allowed on my ship,” Rowan growled.

Silme fought the urge to roll her eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s why we are in this situation. Listen, Sir Wymore–”

“You are leaving this ship. Now.”

“Um, what?”

“Rowan, you can’t kick her off in the middle of the ocean,” Hutch interjected.

Rowan looked angered by this fact. “Then she is leaving the second we make port.”

“But we’re going to Spain!”

Ignoring Silme, Rowan rounded on Hutch. “How dare you bring her on my ship. She’s a woman. Women aren’t allowed on my damn ship, Hutch.”

Hutch furrowed his eyebrows. “I know, Rowan. But if you would just listen, I think—”

“Women are useless on ships! She’s not even part of the military. She could have gotten us killed, or worse, put a curse on us!” Hutch gave him a disbelieving look. Those kinds of stories were just wives tales, but Rowan seemed to believe them. “You could not have found any other man to do the job? No other man off the street? Were you truly that desperate for a person? Hell, I would have even taken a child before letting a woman—”

A hand grasped Rowan’s arm, forcing him to turn around. He barely caught the sight of Silme’s face before her fist slammed into his nose.

The captain’s head jerked backwards. He stumbled slightly, releasing a steady stream of curse words, bringing his hand up to his already bleeding nose. His grumblings was interrupted by the sound of a soft thud. Both men looked to see Silme passed out on the floor.

“She punches me and she’s the one who faints?” Rowan grumbled through his bloody hand.

Ignoring his disgruntled friend, Hutch crouched by Silme, checking her pulse. Steady. She was breathing, too. Silme had warned him of this.

“Is she dead?”

“No, just passed out. She should come to in a few minutes.”

“What the hell happened?”

“She would be able to explain it better than I, but she has some sort of.. condition.”

“I was referring to what the hell happened to your mind that made you think bringing a woman on my ship was a good idea.”

Hutch looked over his shoulder to Rowan, who was still cradling his nose. “Are you still on that?”

“Damn straight I am. You brought a woman on my ship! How daft do you have to be to do that?”

Hutch stood up and moved to Rowan, clearly not backing down his stance. “I asked Sir Wymore for references for crew members. He sent her. She has proven herself to be a far better sailor than half the men out there already. She’s faster, lighter, and her fighting skills–”

“I don’t care about that – I care that you brought her on my ship!”

A groan escaped Silme’s lips. She began to stir, blinking, refocusing her eyes. The first thing she saw when she woke was Rowan and Hutch standing over her, arguing. She sighed. Both men were too preoccupied arguing with each other that they didn’t notice her stand up. She held onto the desk, steadying herself. As she quietly decided whether or not she should just slip out right then or there, something out the window caught her eye.

She squinted her eyes, peering out the large window. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked like…

“Uh, guys?” Silme began, turning to look at the men. They continued to talk over each other. “Guys, there’s a ship…”

She looked back. The ship was measurably closer in just those few moments. It was gaining speed, and fast.

“Guys. The window. You might want to look at it.”

No response.

Grunting, she marched over to the men and put a hand on the shoulder of each man. The barely noticed her before she turned them to face the window. “Look.”

Both men stopped mid-sentence. They stared out the window. Hutch moved closer, stood silently, then turned around. “Red sails,” was all he said.

“Blackbeard’s ghost,” Rowan whispered.

They both darted out the door.

“Lower the top sails! Make speed! We have a ship incoming!” Rowan bellowed orders as he jogged up the stairs to the helm. Hutch repeated the orders again, adding in other commands to gain speed. Men began to dart around the ship, just as they had earlier that morning with the storm. But this wasn’t a storm of nature. This was a different storm entirely.

“DeGray!” Rowan shouted up to the bird’s nest at the top of the ship. A young man with blond hair poked his head out.

“It’s the Calailles flag, Sir!” Oliver shouted down.

Rowan muttered a curse under his breath. Shouting more orders, he shoved the man at the helm aside and took the wheel.

Silme appeared by the stairs, confused by all the panic. “What’s happening? Who is it?”

“Pirates,” said the first mate. “And not ones we can outrun.”

Rowan glanced at him, a knowing look on his face.

They tried to run. Rowan did his best maneuvering but it still wasn’t enough. The red-sailed ship came closer, and closer, until they were right on them. As the pirate ship pulled next to them, Rowan saw their captain standing at the helm. A woman with long, jet black hair, perfect curves, and a smirk on her face, her arm lazily draped over the wheel.

Rowan cursed again.

“Prepare to be boarded, men! Grab your weapons!” The pirate ship pulled next to the Skyview and grappling hooks shot across the gap, latching onto Rowan’s ship. It started to pull their ships closer to each other.

“Man the cannons! Fight for your ship, men!” Rowan bellowed across the deck. Men scurried around, grabbing their guns and swords.

And the battle began.

Swords clinking, guns firing, men grunting and swearing – the battle raged. Rowan jumped into the fray with his men and fought the pirates. Not only did men board the ship, but several women swung across, swords drawn, engaging in battle. They were good. Too good. Not even Rowan could hold them all off – and he was the best dueler in the Navy.

The crew held on for as long as they could, until they were surrounded on every side. Rowan was just pulling his fist from a man’s face when he saw his crew dropping their weapons around him. He looked to see guns and swords pointing at them everywhere. His flag, now cut from its position on the mast, floated down and landed in the water. Hutch, putting his sword down, gave Rowan a look.

The deck was quiet, save for the sounds of the waves beating against both ships. Footsteps against the wood echoed as everyone turned their attention to the approaching captain. With grace and ease she stepped off the Skyview’s railing, eyes scanning her newest victory.

“Bring forth the Captain.”

Two women shoved Rowan forward. He grumbled something at them before he turned around and met face to face with the pirate captain.

“Carmen,” he lowly greeted.

A grin spread across her red lips. “Lieutenant D’Barbarac. Lovely to see you again, darling.”

“It’s Colonel, now. Or Captain, if you’d like. I’m not that picky.”

Her grin spread further. She stepped closer to him. He towered over her, standing nearly a foot taller, but her personality and smooth voice made up for the height difference. “A promotion? Good for you. I am glad to see they still keep you employed you after your… mistakes during our encounter.”

Rowan’s face twitched with anger. “I didn’t know you then. I know you now.”

She smiled a sweet smile. “Oh no, sweetheart. You hardly know me at all. But we can change that.” She gave him a suggestive wink.

And then she noticed one of the captured men standing off to the side. Hutch was watching her intently, a sword poking at his back. “Ah, this must be your first mate.” She strolled over to Hutch, eyes slowly trailing up and down his tall frame. Then she noticed the swords prodding him. “Boys, please, ease up. They certainly aren’t going anywhere.” She waved her hand. The men obeyed, stepping back. Then she returned her gaze to the first mate. “I heard about you. Hutch Duval, if I’m not mistaken?”

Hutch stared into her eyes. She stared right back, unblinking, a grin playing on her face. “My apologies, I’m afraid we haven’t met,” he said flatly.

“Of course, where are my manners? Carmen Calailles. A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Duval.”

Hutch just stared at her, face impassive.

“It’s a pity we didn’t meet last time I saw your captain. If you were there, perhaps someone would have seen me slip off with all that cargo. Rowan certainly didn’t.”

Carmen’s crew chuckled. Rowan just scowled. Giving Hutch a pat on the chest, she lazily began to walk around the ship, heading back towards Rowan.

“I’m afraid I don’t have any cargo for you this time, Carmen,” Rowan said.

Carmen shrugged. “Oh, that’s fine. I don’t – ” She paused next to one of his crewmembers, eyebrow arching. “You have a woman on your crew?”

Everyone looked to Silme. Rowan sighed.

“But you hate women,” Carmen continued, eying Silme.

“I don’t hate women, believe me,” Rowan countered, “I just don’t want them on my ship.”

Silme shot him a glare. “I will punch you again.”

“Oh! I like her,” she grinned with amusement. Then, she turned around to face Rowan again. “Anyways, as I was saying – I don’t care about the lack of cargo, darling.” Carmen strolled closer to Rowan. “I’m taking the ship.”

Rowan scoffed. “You can’t run two ships with one crew. It’s impossible.”

“I know,” Carmen said nonchalantly, “That’s why I’m keeping your crew.”

Rowan’s eyebrows knitted together. “Not while I’m still on this ship and breathing.”

“That’s the point, sweetheart,” Carmen grinned mischievously.

“Damn woman taking my damn ship and forcing my damn crew to work for her–”

“Would you stop cursing for a few moments and row?”

Rowan and Hutch sat in the middle of the vast, empty sea, cramped in a tiny boat. Rowan longingly stared off into the direction Carmen sailed away with his ship and crew.

“She could have at least dropped us off on an island somewhere instead of stranding us in the middle of the damn ocean—”

“Stow it, Rowan. There’s an island ten klicks away. We should reach it by nightfall – only ifyou stop whining and start rowing.”

Grumbling, Rowan picked up his oars and shoved them into the water. The boat began to pick up speed. “As much as I hate that woman, I cannot deny that there is a very powerful lure about her. She’s probably the best pirate I have ever encountered.”

Hutch paused his rowing to glance over his shoulder. “So it would seem.”

#vermidian #30 day prompt #honeybee #idk that's what I'm tagging it when its everybody #enjoy~#omg I could write for pirate!carmen fOREVER #pirateverse

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

Photo

Carmen slept peacefully on her stomach. Her home was quiet and dark, the light from the moon dimmed by the passing clouds overhead. She breathed in shallow breaths, her hand stretched out to the space next to her. The other half of her bed - usually occupied by a certain knight- lay bare that evening.

Her husband was late at work, again - something that had been happening quite frequently as of late. Carmen never liked it when he worked late because she missed him terribly and she worried. She couldn’t help it, no matter how many times he would kiss her cheek and tell her there was no need. She still worried, but she also understood his current position in life demanded most of his time. She just wished it demanded a few hours less of his life so she would be awake when he came home.

Carmen had tried to stay awake that night to catch her husband, but succumbed to the irresistible lure of sleep. Some hours later, when the night was at its darkest, Carmen was jolted awake when she felt her bed suddenly jerk, accompanied by a loud banging sound.

A man’s voice cursed. Carmen sprang up from her comfortable position and pressed her back against her headboard, eyes quickly darting around the pitch-black room. “What - who - ?”

“Agh, Maker… It’s - it’s me, it is only me,” spoke the voice of her husband, the sound coming from the edge of her bed. “Go back to sleep, love. I didn’t mean to - “

Hutch was interrupted by the sound of an infant beginning to cry. The volume of the wailing escalated quickly, and within seconds, a second infant joined in.

He sighed with utter exasperation. Carmen heard his footsteps creak against the floor as he made his way to the other side of the room where the crib sat. Knowing he could not hold two squirming kids in his arms, she shuffled out of bed to join him.

“It’s all right, Lionell, it was only me,” Hutch tried to soothe the baby as he lifted him out of the crib. He cradled him in his arms, gently rocking him back and forth. Carmen placed a hand on her husband’s arm before she bent down to pick up her crying daughter.

The babies continued to wail. Hutch quietly hushed his child, alternating between rocking and bouncing. Carmen gently rocked the babe in her arms, softly brushing her hand along the child’s head. In a matter of minutes, Emma began to quiet down. “That’s my girl, “ Carmen whispered.

Leo, however, continued to cry. “Shh, my son, you are all right - I have you. Your father has you.” Carmen could almost hear the frown in his voice. No matter what he did, Leo continued to cry.

“Hutch,” Carmen quietly prompted. She gently lowered Emma into the crib before she turned to her husband, touching his arm. He carefully handed the baby off to her, who began to quiet down after but a few moments in her arms.

“I do not understand how you did that,” Hutch whispered with tired awe.

Carmen smiled down at her son, fingers brushing along his few tufts of hair. “He must like me more.”

Hutch let out an amused breath. He watched her as she placed the placated Leo next to his sleeping sister. His eyes lingered on his children for several moments before Carmen’s touch earned his attention. “Come now, let’s go to bed before you hit something else,” Carmen smiled slightly. Hutch nodded, following her to bed.

Several days later, Carmen sat in her shop. The last customer of the day had left only a half an hour ago, leaving no one but her and her children in the whole of the home. Hutch had sent word that he would, once again, not return home until very late in the evening. With the children asleep and no need to cook up a meal just for herself, she resigned to sewing a dress brought in for repairs.

A little while later, the front door opened. Carmen broke her eyes away from her work to see her weary-looking husband closing the door behind him. “Hutch!” she exclaimed with excitement, pulling the dress off of her lap. He offered her a smile - a tired one - as he made his way over to greet her with a kiss.

“Hello, my love,” he greeted.

She smiled brightly at him, placing her hands on his chest and smoothing out his tunic. “What are you doing home so early? The message carrier said you did not expect to be back until much later. Not that I am not pleased to see you..”

“Sir Wymore sent me home early,” Hutch began, “He insisted I take the evening off once he saw the ‘bags under my eyes,’ as he put it.”

Carmen took her hand and gently brushed his hair back, “You have been working a lot, dear husband. Alexander was right - you need a night off.”

She could see the momentary thought of protest on his face. Hutch hated missing his duties. He especially hated it when he missed work because of a physical inability. It was as if he was constantly attempting to make up for those three months he was out because of his leg.

In the end, his exhaustion must have won the internal debate, for he sighed. “Perhaps I do need a night off. A night off with my family..” He smiled down to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. She returned the smile and he began to lean down, tilting his head to kiss her.

The reverberating sounds of twin infants crying stopped him before they could touch lips. Carmen almost laughed. “They have a knack for that,” she observed. She began to stand up, but Hutch kept her in her seat.

“No, you stay here. Rest. I will see to them.” Giving her a quick peck on her lips and a stroke on her arm, he disappeared upstairs.

Charmed by his insistence, she smiled as she listened to the sound of his feet creaking on the floor upstairs. She decided to return to her sewing for a few minutes, only planning on going until Hutch returned downstairs.

Nearly ten minutes passed before Carmen began to wonder what happened to Hutch. The sound of the babies crying still penetrated the entirety of the house. They did not sound as if they were calming down in the slightest. Frowning softly, Carmen set her sewing aside and made her way up the stairs.

“Hutch? Is everything all right up here?”

Carmen entered their bedroom to find quite the sight. Hutch stood over the crib, holding Emma in one arm and rubbing the stomach of Leo with the other. Both children continued to wail and squirm, and Hutch looked absolutely distressed. “Look at you, poor thing! Here, let me help.”

“No, it’s - it’s okay - I have them - “

Carmen ignored his protests and dipped into the crib, picking up the screaming baby. She then used her free arm to scoop the other child out of Hutch’s arm and into her own. When she first had the twins, she had difficulty trying to soothe two screaming babies at once. After spending a month and a half with them, however, she had mastered holding them each in one arm. Hutch had even made a joke about training knights to hold two children at once, for it certainly looked like a workout.

Right now, Hutch seemed far from a joking mood. He watched her rock both children back and forth, speaking quietly to them, softly, soothing their tears. They gradually began to settle down until their squirming ceased and their eyes drooped shut. Carmen rocked them for a few more moments, ensuring they were indeed asleep, before gesturing to Hutch to help her put them back in their crib. He did as such, then, he stepped back. As soon as she was finished putting the second child down, she turned to see Hutch moving away, running a hand through his wavy hair. She quietly followed after him, grabbing his shoulder. Nodding to the door, she guided him down the stairs.

Hutch walked numbly down the stairs, through the shop, and to the kitchen, where Carmen seated him down on a chair. “We should, hopefully, have a few more hours of peace now.” She stroked his shoulder. “How about I make you some dinner, hm?” she suggested. Hutch absently nodded, not particularly looking at her. Patting his arm, she set to gathering the ingredients.

At one point, as she was putting out some bread, Carmen noticed something was wrong. Hutch was sitting at the table, one elbow propped up, his hand covering his mouth and his eyes focused elsewhere. Carmen knew that look. He only put his hand over his mouth when he was stressed. “Darling, is everything all right?” Carmen questioned, her tone laced with concern.

Hutch did not respond right away. He almost looked as if he didn’t hear her. After a moment he took in a deep breath and slid his hand up to his forehead, dragging his fingers through his hair. “I don’t think they know who I am, Carmen.”

“Who, the kids?” Carmen glanced at the upper corner of the room, in the direction of the bedroom. “Don’t be ridiculous; of course they know who you are,” she assured him. She was just about to resume her cooking when Hutch finally looked at her. It was then she saw the gloss in his eyes, the slight quiver in his brow. Hutch was nearly crying.

Bread abandoned, Carmen was by the table in seconds. “Hutch, sweetheart, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Please.” She pulled out the chair next to him and sat down, facing him. He sighed and looked at her, the water in his eyes all the more evident. She leaned forward and placed her hand on his cheek, her face betraying all of her concern.

It took him a moment to find the right words. “All they do is cry when I hold them. I.. I am gone so much, they don’t know who I am.”

Carmen looked at him softly, gently stroking his face. He leaned into her touch. “Hutch, they know you are their father. Just because they cry a few times when you hold them doesn’t mean you are a stranger to them. Believe me, there have been plenty of times when I could not get those two to stop crying for hours.”

“It hasn’t been a few times - it has been this way for weeks.” Hutch sighed. “I know I am barely home - I know. With Sir Wymore bringing me forth as Royal Advisor soon, the transition has required a lot of time and training and… I’m tired. I’m tired and I desperately miss my wife and now my own children don’t even recognize me.” He paused momentarily, and Carmen continued to stroke his face. “I don’t want to be that kind of father, Carmen,” he said quietly.

“What kind of father, darling?” Carmen frowned softly. She could not bear seeing him so distraught.

“The one that is never home. The one that is so consumed with his work that he misses everything.” The words looked like they caused physical pain just to say them. It was clear by the look on his face that the thought of not being there for his children frightened him. It frightened him more than he could say.

Carmen couldn’t take it anymore. In one swift movement she slid into her husband’s lap, wrapped her arms around him, and pulled his head into her chest. His arms found her torso and he closed his eyes, melting into her touch. “Hutch Duval,” Carmen began, voice hushed, hand gently brushing through his hair, “you are not going to miss anything. You are a determined man and a wonderful father - if you want to spend more time with your kids, you will make it happen. I know you will,” she said. She felt him squeeze her torso. “And I will make sure that happens even if I have to drag those children up to the castle and sit in all your council meetings with you.”

Hutch actually chuckled at that. It was a low, tired chuckle, but it was a chuckle nonetheless. He buried his face deeper into her chest, holding her close. He muttered quietly about how much he loved her. She smiled and stroked his hair, saying she loved him too.

After Hutch eventually calmed down - all thanks to his wife - Carmen finished dinner and they sat quietly together, holding hands. Hutch was helping her put away the dishes once they had finished when she abruptly paused, looking towards the door. Hutch paused himself, alerted by her sudden change in manner. “Did you hear that?” Carmen said. They both listened for another moment. Hutch looked confused. “I heard something. The children must be awake.”

He looked down to her with an incredulous face. “I heard not a single sound. How do you know?”

Carmen smiled slightly. “I’m a mother.” She poked his nose with her wet hand. “I have a sense about these things.”

A small smile played on his lips. He set the dishes down in the sink, “I will go check on them.” Giving her a kiss on the cheek, he made his way to the doorway.

“Hutch,” Carmen called, turning around. He stopped by the door to look at her. “They do love you. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

He gave her a sad smile and nodded.

Carmen returned to the dishes as he went upstairs. She finished them up herself, cleaned the counters, and even put away the extra food leftover from the meal. When she was done, Hutch had yet to return. Carmen walked out the kitchen and peered at the stairs, curious as to what happened with her husband. She listened for a moment, but did not hear the slightest noise coming from upstairs. Not sure what that meant, she decided to head up and see for herself.

Hutch sat in a chair next to the crib. He leaned against the top of the crib, head propped up on one arm, while the other arm draped down into the crib. Neither of the children were crying. In fact, they made very little noise as they sat in their crib. Emma kicked her hands and legs and Leo laid quietly, eyes blinking lazily.

Carmen smiled softly and moved to stand next to Hutch. When she reached him, she was amused to find that he had fallen asleep. She took a few seconds to mentally debate with herself whether to wake him or let him sleep in the uncomfortable position. Finally landing on the former, she slid her hand across his back and leaned against him, placing her chin on his shoulder. He stirred awake, eyelids slowly opening to look at her. She smiled at him and he returned it with a tired smile of his own. She then turned her attention to the bottom of the crib.

“Well, would you look at that,” Carmen whispered. Hutch followed her gaze down to where his hand dangled. Emma had taken hold of his finger and pulled it into her mouth. As she worked on the tip of his finger, her mouth curled into a pleased, toothless smile. “Someone is happy to see her father.”

Hutch inhaled a deep, shaky breath, letting it out like a sigh of relief. Carmen looked over at him to see his eyes were glossed over again, a small smile gracing his lips as he watched his daughter. Carmen smiled at him and kissed his cheek, wrapping her arms around his torso and hugging him.

And thus they nestled together, smiling as they looked down at their two beautiful children.

#vermidian #carutch #the duvals #30 day prompt #omg I'm up so late writing this #but I couldn't stop #alll for yoooouuuu

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

Photo

Hutch landed on the ground with a hard thud.

A groan of pain escaped his lips and he rolled over on his side, taking a moment to collect the breath that was just knocked out of him. His tall, broad-shouldered, sweating friend stood above him, looking down at the fallen knight with a smug grin.

“Allow me to guess - Silme taught that to you?” Hutch questioned, pushing himself up to a seated position.

“She may have shown me once, yes, but I would have figured it out on my own,” Rowan boasted. He held out a hand for his friend, pulling him to a stand. “Again?”

“Again,” Hutch nodded.

On the outer ridges of the sparring circle, several people gathered around to watch the two men spar. Most of them were knights coming off duty or squires just finishing up their training, eager to watch the two best duelers practice together. Two women stood among the small cluster of knights. The dark-haired, fair-skinned seamstress stood just outside the ring, hands gently resting on the fence. Her short-haired assistant stood next to her, leaning against the fence herself.

When the girls had arrived, the men - mostly the younger boys - shifted to stand closer. Nearly ten men stood next to Carmen, glancing at her periodically. She, however, had her eyes fixed on the tall, lean, dark-haired man who was currently attempting to block a barrage of incoming fists.

Those who were not ogling Carmen were just as interested in the fight. “I heard they have been sparring every morning for nearly twenty years,” said one of the squires.

“Someone told me Rowan has never lost a duel. Not even once,” another squire added.

“Not even to Hutch?”

“Not even to Hutch.”

One of the men whistled.

`“I heard Rowan once took down a bear - with his bare hands.”

The young men looked at the squire who offered that interesting piece of information with awe and intrigue. “By himself?”

“That was Hutch, you idiots,” an older knight corrected. “And he had a sword.” He sighed at the ignorance of his younger peers.

Next to them, a sly smile spread across the seamstress’ lips.

“Still, Rowan is a pretty big guy. Nothing can take him down.”

“Yeah,” they all agreed.

“He’s not that tough,” muttered the shop assistant. She spoke so quietly she had no doubt her words went unnoticed.

Except they didn’t.

Suddenly, Silme felt the odd sensation she was being watched. Glancing away from the fighting, she saw Carmen looking at her, smiling mischievously. Silme blinked. If she did not have a good hold on her emotions, she would have given off a look of confusion..

“Silme can beat Rowan,” Carmen suddenly - and very loudly - announced to the entire group of men. In one swift motion, they all turned to look at her.

Silme began to shake her head. “Carmen - “

“She said so herself, and I have seen it with my own eyes. Silme can best Rowan in under ten minutes, I guarantee.”

The men shifted their gaze to Silme, some even leaning forward to look at her. She sighed. “I am just here to watch. I don’t want to beat anybody - “

“Ay, Rowan!” a squire shouted into the arena. Rowan was in the middle of helping Hutch to a stand (again) when he looked at the squires. “Silme here says she could kick your arse!”

Even from far away, they could see the eyebrows knitting on Rowan’s head. “It would be amusing to see the woman try!” he shouted in return.

Everyone immediately turned to watch Silme. She stared out into the field, forehead wrinkling ever so slightly. Carmen watched her eagerly, a bright smile on her face.

Without a word, Silme ducked through the fence and into the arena.

The knights cheered her on, clearly excited for the new challenge.

In the middle of the arena, the smug grin on Rowan’s face melted away when he saw Silme marching towards him. Hutch looked between him and the approaching Silme and gave Rowan a pat on the back. With that, he departed, giving Silme a nod as he passed her on his way to Carmen.

Rowan tilted his head, cracking his neck. He didn’t need luck. He was Rowan D’Barbarac. He could take on Silme. So what if she has beaten him every other time they dueled? He could best her. He could beat her.

Silme stopped right in front of him.

He was doomed.

“Same rules?” Rowan asked as nonchalant as he could.

Fire burned in Silme’s eyes, lighting up her otherwise impassive face. “Same rules.”

They took up their stances. Rowan towered over the younger woman, beating her in both height and muscle mass. But she has proven to him time and time again that size and power could easily be bested by speed and flexibility.

Rowan went for the first swing. She dodged it easily. He swung again; she dodged. Rowan played the offence at first, attempting to get the upper hand. She swiped at him a few times, but he blocked those with little effort. They fought for several minutes that way, Rowan sending punches while she danced saide, batting away a few of his jabs. He kept swinging at her. If he could just stall long enough to surprise her…

He took one wrong step. Silme ducked under one of his fists, lunged forward, and grabbed his waist.

Damn.

He was on his back five seconds later.

The air flew out of his lungs upon impact. He gasped, coughing, attempting to regulate his breathing again. She showed him no mercy when flipping him over, that was certain. Rowan’s view of the sky was suddenly obstructed by the appearance of Silme. She stopped next to him, her face cast in shadows from the light above her. “See? Not so tough.”

Rowan wasn’t sure what that was about, but he knew a taunt when he heard one. He grunted at her, clearly angered. She held out her hand as an offer to help him up. He ignored it and pushed himself up to a stand, brushing off the grass from his shoulders.

The crowd of squires were clapping. They shouted and whistled, impressed by the display of skill Silme had just shown. Carmen joined them in their applause. Hutch tried to give Rowan a sympathetic face, but it just came out as highly amused.

They were cheering his failure. Rowan’s chest puffed up, a scowl forming on his face. Silme almost looked embarassed by all the hollering from the men. “Hey, that was a pretty good fight. For a minute there I thought you - “

Rowan didn’t want to hear it. He turned and began to stalk off in the opposite direction of Silme and all the squires. She briefly appeared surprised before she gained the wherewithal to follow after him. “Rowan? Hey, wait. Rowan!” She grabbed his elbow and pulled him to a stop. Rowan reluctantly stayed put, Silme forcing him to turn back and face her.

“What the hell is your problem?” Silme questioned accusingly. “I have beaten you plenty of times before. Why are you so angry now?”

Rowan glanced behind her at the group of squires. “I do not desire to stick around and make a fool of myself.”

Silme furrowed her eyebrows. She glanced back at the squires, noticing they were still watching them. “Is that what this is about? You don’t want to lose in front of a bunch of squires?”

“These men are not just a bunch of squires, Silme,” Rowan huffed. “These are the men I am training to become knights.”

“And, what? You are worried they won’t want to learn from you if you lose to a girl?”

Rowan looked away. He crossed his arms over his chest. A few moments of silence passed. “They will think I’m weak.”

“Since when did you care what other people thought of you?”

Rowan gave her a look.

She held a hand up. “Right, sorry. Dumb question,” she conceded. She looked at him for a moment, then sighed. “All right, so you don’t want to lose your reputation with the squires, right?”

“You are, finally, correct,” he grumbled.

Silme looked annoyed for a moment, but pushed the feeling aside. “Okay, so.. what if we did something to make them forget you lost?”

“And how are we going to do that?” Rowan sounded doubtful.

Silme thought for a moment. She looked over her shoulder once again, seeing that everyone was still watching them. She studied them for several seconds before an idea popped into her mind. It wasn’t the smartest idea, but it would at least get Rowan to stop pouting.

“Do you trust me?” Silme asked, turning back to him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Sure,” he shrugged.

Silme took in a deep breath. Grabbing the collar of his shirt, she dragged him down to her level, and kissed him.

Rowan was surprised. Kissing was never unwelcome, of course, but he was surprised nonetheless. His initial awareness of the men watching them slowly began to fade the longer their lips were pressed together, until finally he forgot about the world entirely. Wrapping his arms around her torso, he pulled her close, delving into the kiss.

Back at the group, the squires watched with open mouths. One of the squires shook his head slightly.

“Wait, are they…?”

“I think… yeah, they’re… kissing. “

“You mean you did not know?” Carmen said as she looked at the men with a smile, highly entertained by the entire situation.

“They are engaged,” Hutch offered.

“Ohh,” came the chorus of boys. They watched Silme and Rowan on the field for a few more seconds, before each of them realized they forgot they all had something important to do at that very moment. They all dispersed, leaving Carmen and Hutch to stand and watch as Rowan and Silme had their private moment together.

“Thank the Maker my duels with Rowan never end like that,” Hutch said. Carmen chuckled lightly, leaning her head against his arm.

#vermidian #rolme #30 day prompt #omg i'm so nervous writing for silme #she's hard #hope I did her partial justice

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

Photo

Carmen’s shop was a sight for sore eyes. Hutch shuffled up the incredibly long road to their home, his muscles loudly protesting the movement. Today had been a long day. A very long day. Hours upon hours of extensive training with the knights, hands-on training for the squires, and two patrol shifts squeezed somewhere in between - both of which he found himself running miles throughout the town, chasing down thieves and muggers and any other guilty persons. And to start it all off, Rowan had made sure to give him a proper beating in their sparring session that morning.

His muscles ached. His head throbbed. His mind was exhausted. He longed for the moment he could step inside his home, take off his shoes, and pass out on the floor.

The door to the shop creaked open as Hutch slowly entered, the man grunting at the effort. He paused inside and silently reveled at the feeling of being home. As he took that momentary pause, he looked about the room to see Silme packing up her belongings for the day. Normally she was gone by the time he returned home, so she must have been working late that evening. Hutch slowly nodded to her in greeting.

“You look great,” Silme greeted ever so kindly.

Hutch made a low, unamused sound. “Thanks.”

Then he noticed Carmen was in the room. She stood over in the corner, folding several bolts of fabric. Hutch wondered if she had seen or heard him, for she made no move to greet him. Usually he had her hello kisses to look forward to every evening, but tonight she seemed less inclined to even notice his existence. This worried him.

“Hello, my love,” Hutch called across the room, shutting the door behind him.

She let out an angry puff of air in return. Forcefully shoving the folded fabric into a crate - effectively rendering her folding useless - she stormed towards the kitchen.

Hutch had the sinking feeling he was going to be sleeping in the barracks tonight.

“Is she angry with me?” Hutch asked the shop assistant, the panic in his voice evident.

Silme shook her head. “No, no, not at all. She just had to deal with some pretty rude customers.”

He let out an audible sigh of relief. Thank the Maker. Moving through the room, he began to remove his cape and jacket. “Was it that bad?” he questioned.

“I’m surprised she let them leave in one piece,” Silme answered. “They had demanded a rush order on their clothes two days ago, and she just barely finished it when they came in today and told her they didn’t want it anymore. And they refused to pay for the inconvenience - none too politely, either.”

Hutch pulled a face. That certainly was one way to anger Carmen. “I’m certain they will pay in one way or another,” he said. It wasn’t a threat as much as an observation on his wife. It never bode well to get on her bad side, no matter who you were. She had very particular ways of getting back at people.

“Thank you, Silme. She will be all right, I will see to it.”

“No problem,” Silme said, heading towards the door. “I almost feel bad for those people. They have no idea what they stepped into.”

“No they do not.” Hutch watched the kitchen door for a moment. As Silme opened the door to leave, he quickly turned to her, “Oh, and Silme, could you do me a favor? Punch Rowan when you get home - it does not matter where, just make it hard.” Silme looked at him curiously. “He teased me today in front of the squires.”

“Ah. Done.” Silme nodded to him, and after he gave her a thankful nod in return, she slipped out.

Hutch returned his focus to the kitchen door. He could almost feel Carmen’s anger as she made noise from the other room, obviously preparing dinner. Hutch sighed. He was tired. He was so tired. But he cared for his wife far more than his own welfare, so his aching muscles were going to have to wait.

Moving towards the kitchen, he stopped in the doorway, gently leaning against the frame. He watched her carefully, noticing her stiff movement, practically seeing the fumes wafting from her body. She was chopping vegetables with more vigor than Rowan in a duel, dumping them into the pot like the lifeless little beings they were. Hutch frowned softly. He disliked seeing her angry. He especially disliked it when she was angry with him, but that wasn’t the case for tonight. Pushing himself away from the door, he slowly padded his way across the kitchen to where she stood. He stopped just next to her. She made no move to look at him, only chopped at her carrots. He placed a hand on her back and her body softened under his touch. For a brief moment she paused, and when she looked at him, he saw the distress etched in her features. He could only offer her a sympathetic face in return, his hand methodically caressing her back. She sighed, irritably, and returned to her forceful chopping. This was going to bother her well into the night, he was sure.

But Hutch wasn’t going to let that happen. He watched her slice every ounce of life out of the carrots for a moment before he stepped away. There was a few seconds of shuffling and noise-making behind her, but she kept her focus on her cooking. Just as she dumped the last of the carrots into the pot, a hand grabbed her wrist. She barely had enough time to look up at Hutch before he slid the knife out of her hand and set it on the counter. Giving him a confused look, she was pulled away from the counter and towards the kitchen tables, where a chair was pulled out. Without a word Hutch seated himself in the chair, still holding on to her wrist, and then pulled her into his lap. She didn’t protest. She just sighed and leaned against him, dropping her head into his shoulder.

Hutch leaned his head against hers and closed his eyes. No words were exchanged. They just sat in the kitchen, holding on to each other, breathing softly. The room was silent. They were silent. Even his aching muscles had quieted down. Everything was quiet, and it felt good.

They must have sat that way for nearly fifteen minutes, for the sound of the water boiling in the pot stirred the married couple from their embrace. They both looked to see steam quickly rising from their dinner. Carmen released her hold on Hutch and started to stand up. He made a low noise, however, and grabbed her arm, pulling her back to him. He stood up and switched positions with her, gently setting her down in the chair. Placing a kiss on her head, he moved to deal with their dinner. Carmen smiled softly as she watched him dish up their food, allowing her weight to press into the back of the chair.

He returned not but two minutes later, two bowls of soup in his hand. He set one in front of her seat at the head of the table, then one to her immediate left. For a moment it looked as if he was ready to sit down, but there was one other thing he wanted to do first. He moved about the room, quietly, blowing out the candles and dimming the light in the room. All but two were blown out - and those two he placed on the table. The room was nearly dark, with nothing but the two candles and the stream of moonlight illuminating the entire home. It was quiet. It was peaceful.

Once he sat himself down, they began to eat. They were a few bites in when Hutch suddenly placed his free hand on the table, palm facing upwards. Carmen’s eyes shifted to look at his open hand, then up to his face. He sat quietly and ate, looking intently at his food. She smiled softly and slipped her hand into his open palm. His fingers curled around her hand, his thumb gently brushing the top of it. He glanced up to her, a small smile tugging at his lips. She looked at him with fondness and affection, and he looked at her with the same.

And thus they returned to their meal - his exhaustion gone and her anger completely forgotten.

#vermidian #carutch #30 day prompt #for my best friend #just becuase #:)#gonna try to do all 30 prompts #may or may not take more than 30 days though

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

Text

30 Days of Writing

Silence

Tough

Smile

Storm

Snow

Blade

Wind

Foot

Cold

Pencil

Nose

Promise

Necklace

Mind

Books

Deal

Avoid

Soft

Forgive

Sharp

Teeth

Dying

Rock

Sick

Broken

Gone

Road

Sky

Change

Sleep

#prompt

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

Photo

The Royal Advisor sat in the castle library, with scrolls and maps sprawled out before him. He sat quietly by himself, marking the maps along a specific path. He sat unperturbed for quite some time, lost in his work, until he felt a pair hands slide down his shoulders and onto his chest.

“Hello, Darling,” whispered the sensual voice of his wife. Hutch felt her place a kiss on his cheek. He turned to see her face a few inches from his, her arms still wrapped around his chest. A small, loving smile graced his lips.

“Hello, Love,” he greeted fondly. “And to what do I owe this wonderful and unexpected visit?”

“Perhaps I miss you,” she simply said. She took a hand and gently stroked the back of his hair. “You’ve been so busy lately, spending most of your days up here with the King.”

Hutch closed his eyes at the feel of her touch. “I know. I miss you, too,” he spoke softly, affectionately.

“There is a reason I am here, though.” Carmen slid her arms off his chest and stood up, shifting to lean against the table so she could face him. “Emma had the wonderful idea to go out for a picnic for lunch today – with the boys. It is a lovely day out, just perfect for a picnic. Come with us.” She smiled, pleased at the thought of the Duval family spending time at a family picnic.

Hutch, however, did not appear as pleased. He looked at her and sighed, “I would love nothing more than to join you, but I’m afraid I can’t leave the castle today. I have too much work to do.”

Carmen’s pleased expression faded. “Can’t you take a day off? Surely the King can go for a few hours without being advised.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.” Hutch stood up from his chair and began to gather a few scrolls and books. “The King is worried about an attack on one of his caravans by a neighboring kingdom’s own royal knights. I need to stay here today and help him determine if this is the start of war or not.” Hutch told her as he began to move throughout the room, replacing the scrolls and books.

Carmen’s eyebrows furrowed. She pushed herself off the table and began to follow him. “You have been at this castle for weeks, Hutch. You are here more than you are home. I think you’ve done far more than enough for the King for a while. Come with us to the picnic.”

“I can’t,” he repeated, continuing to put away the dwindling pile of books in his arms. Then he began to search through the shelves, grabbing new books and organizing them.

“Yes, you can. It won’t kill you.”

“You’re right, it won’t. But I can’t.”

“When is the last time you spent a day with your family? You leave before dawn and return when we sleep. I feel like we don’t see you anymore – no, I know we don’t see you anymore. Come now; take a few hours off at least.”

Without stopping, Hutch glanced over his shoulder to look at her, “I would, Carmen, but I can’t. Pestering me will not change this.”

Carmen scowled, still trailing after him as he made his way throughout the room. “You need to spend time with your family.”

“I need to work,” he reiterated, matching her tone of frustration.

“You act as if you don’t even care to spend time with us anymore.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is it not? Did you even remember it’s our anniversary today?” Carmen questioned sharply.

Hutch abruptly stopped. He paused, still facing the shelf. “Twenty years. Of course I remember.” Sighing, he slowly turned around to face his angered wife. Putting down the books in his arms, Hutch sat himself on top of the table, putting him at eye level with Carmen. He always preferred being at eye level with her, especially when having a serious conversation. Even all these years later, they still had an intense eye contact that was always mesmerizing. Hutch reached out a hand to her and she grasped it. He placed his other hand on top and pulled her close.

“Carmen… I have enjoyed every moment with you over these past twenty years. Every single moment – even the ones we spent arguing. And the moments we spent apart felt as if I left behind half of my heart.” Hutch spoke tenderly, stroking her hand. “I fell in love with you the day I fought that bear and continued to fall for you every moment after. You took me in, cared for me, and loved me. You married me, bore my children, and have been the best wife – and mother – any man could dream of. I have wanted nothing more than to give you everything I possibly could. That is why I have been working so hard.”

He could see her expression gradually softening, even though she still looked displeased. He gently tugged her closer, bringing her to stand between his legs. He dropped her hands so he could place his on either side of her hips, and she set her hands on his shoulders.

“In order to keep my family safe, I have to keep my kingdom safe. It pains me geatly to be away – I ache every moment I am not in your presence – but what I do, I do for you.”

Carmen sighed, squeezing his shoulders. “But you are still gone. What’s the point of keeping your family safe if you don’t see them?”

Hutch lowered his gaze. He knew she was right.

“Hutch, you promised me. I know it was a long, long time ago, but you promised me you wouldn’t do this to me again. You said you would make time no matter what. Don’t you remember your promise?”

“No, I do… I do,” he whispered, rubbing his hands up and down her hips. “You’re right. I’m… I’m sorry, Carmen. I’m sorry.” He whispered. Sliding his arms around her body, he hugged her tight, his head falling to her chest. With a sad smile, she kissed the top of his head and ran her fingers down the nape of his neck. They stood that way for some time, Hutch wrapped around Carmen while she stroked her soft fingers through his hair. Silence enveloped the room as they were just… together.

Finally, reluctantly, Hutch lifted his head, not daring to pull away. He looked up at her soft, warm face, as if she was the only woman in the world in that moment. “How about this,” he began after a few more moments, “You go with the kids to that picnic today. There is nothing I can do about my work now, but I will be home before dinner – you have my word – and we can celebrate our anniversary then.” He paused, raised an eyebrow. “And once the kids retire for the night, we will properly celebrate. Just you and I,” he said, giving her a suggestive face. She laughed lightly, grinning. “For as long as these old bones hold up.”

“Hutch Duval, you are not old.” Carmen scolded, giving him a look. “You forget I am three years older. If anyone is old, it would be me.”

“Oh no, no, My love,” Hutch looked at her tenderly, his voice soft. “You look as young and beautiful as the night we first danced.”

She smiled sweetly, still flattered by his words after all this time. Grabbing his head in her hands, she pulled him close and pressed their lips together for a long kiss. When they pulled away they looked at each other with twenty years’ worth of love and affection.

“You better not be late for dinner, Mr. Duval,” she warned, but with a grin.

“Not even the King himself could stop me.”

Giving him one last peck on the lips, she smoothed out his hair and they finally parted. As he sat there and watched her leave, a grin played on his lips.

----

Carmen did as Hutch suggested and took the children out for their picnic. Emma mentioned a new spot she found while exploring outside the castle gates that she said would be perfect for their picnic, and so they headed out under her leadership.

Emma was speaking with Cedric about her training when she noticed her mother’s solemn expression. “Mama, what is wrong?” she questioned, concerned.

Carmen seemed to be pulled from her thoughts. She looked at her daughter and forced a smile. “Nothing, sweetheart.”

“It’s because Papa couldn’t come, isn’t it?” Emma persisted. Carmen gave her a look that suggested she was correct.

“He’s a busy man,” Leo cut in, offering his opinion. “Being the Royal Advisor requires a lot of duties. He just doesn’t have the time for simple picnics."

“That doesn’t mean he can’t make time, Leo.”

“Twins, it’s all right. We shall just have to enjoy ourselves for now, and we will see your father tonight.”

Cedric wrapped an arm around his mother’s shoulders, offering her a comforting squeeze. She patted his hand.

After walking for a while, Carmen began to recognize some of the features of the surrounding landscape. “I feel as if I’ve been here before… a long time ago.” She glanced around. “Yes, I know this place… Your father and I… Oh!”

They arrived at the bottom of the hill. At the top, a large, magnificent tree sprouted in every direction, its hundreds of branches dancing in the wind. At the bottom of the tree stood a tall, familiar man—Carmen’s husband.

Smiling with surprise, Carmen made her way to the top of the hill where Hutch waited. Her children followed suit, and Emma had a grin that spread from ear to ear.

“You.” Carmen simply said.

“Me.” Hutch smiled down to her.

“So everything you said…”

“All a lie,” he said, then paused. “Except for the part about how much I love you and how sorry I was that I have been gone so much. I truly am sorry about that.”

Carmen smiled at him, stroking his arm. She thought for a moment and then raised an eyebrow. “So the King truly does not need you?”

Hutch shrugged. “He might, but he can survive without any advising for the next three days.”

“Three days?” Carmen repeated, her face letting up. “You mean…”

“I am all yours.” Hutch spoke softly, lovingly. He looked to the teenagers. “As I am yours. I must apologize for not being around lately. That will change – I promise.”

The kids smiled, Emma practically beaming. The boys gave him respectful, appreciative bows.

Hutch looked back to his wife. “Happy anniversary, My Dearest Love.”

“Happy anniversary, My Darling Husband.”

They looked at one another for a long moment, smiling tenderly. Hutch then glanced to the side. “Children, turn around,” he commanded. “I wish to give your mother a proper anniversary gift.”

“Aww,” Emma gushed. Leo scrunched up his face, quickly turning around. Cedric joined him, and together they boys grabbed Emma and forced her to turn around.

Smiling happily, Hutch pulled his wife in for a deep, loving kiss. As their lips touched, even now, twenty years to the day he married her, he still felt his chest fill with an undying, fervent love for her.

After all this time, some things never change.

And they never will.

#vermidian #HAPPY HONEYBEEVERSARY #CARUTCH #otp #writing #yaaayy here's part two~#I told you it's fluff

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

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Several men stood along the elongated table, huddled close and hunched over. Different maps of varying sizes were strewn about; each map showing a different part of the kingdom. The King stood in the middle of the clump, his face pensive.

“Where did you say the group was spotted, Grandmaster?” The King inquired.

“A few miles out of Lakefall, Sire,” the tall, blond-haired man with the thick beard spoke. “They attacked the caravan up the road shortly thereafter.”

The King made a low, displeased noise in his throat, “How many?”

“Six. My knights only captured two of them after they attacked. They sit in the dungeons as we speak.”

The King scowled. “Why would John send his men after a caravan? He has been nothing but a loyal ally to this kingdom, as his father before him.”

“It could be an act of war, My Lord,” one of the men said.

“I would not be so quick to assume so, Sire,” The Grandmaster interjected, “This may be an act of but a few, doomed to fail. No man is safe from the overwhelming temptation of greed – not even a king’s knights.”

“Still, it is troubling,” The King sighed, his eyes glued to the maps. Then, he turned to look at a tall, thin, older man with graying hair. “Duval, what are your thoughts?”

The Royal Advisor studied the table for a moment in thought. “I do not think King John would be foolish enough to send men to attack a caravan of yours for nothing but treasure, My Lord – with the intention of war or not.” He looked to The King, “I believe D’Barbarac is correct: these were nothing more than greedy, foolish knights. It would be best to question them and see what they have to say.”

A moment passed as The King considered the advice. “Very well. Question the men and send a message to King John. He will want to know. And if he is behind this… well, we will have to talk.” The King said, distressed. “You are dismissed, men.”

With nods and bows, the men disbanded. Hutch only made it halfway to the other end of the table when the arm of his best friend wrapped around his shoulders. “So,” Rowan boomed, “any special plans for today?”

“What do you mean?” Hutch questioned flatly.

Rowan’s face fell in confusion. “Did you truly forget today is your anniversary?”

Hutch had to keep from rolling his eyes. “Yes, Rowan, I of all people would forget that.”

“Well, you don’t seem terribly excited about it.” They stopped near the large doors to face each other. “It’s been a long time, you know.”

A small, proud grin graced Hutch’s face. “I know.”

“I'll ask again: do you have any plans for today?” Rowan repeated.

“Actually, I—“

Movement behind one of the pillars caught his attention, stopping him mid-sentence. He leaned sideways to look over Rowan’s shoulder, his eyebrows furrowing. Rowan noticed this and turned around to see a shoulder poking out of the column.

“Leonius, come here.”

There was a pause. Finally, the shoulder moved and out from behind the column came a young man. No older than eighteen years old, the boy was nearly as tall as the two men, and strongly resembled one of them. His hair was a darker color and cut slightly shorter, but everything else down to his slender frame was the spitting image of the Royal Advisor. The young man sighed in defeat. He knew he was caught. He stopped before the Advisor and Grandmaster.

“Have we not talked about this?” Hutch questioned after a moment of silence, his face calm but with an overtone of sternness.

“No, Father, we have.” Leo spoke in a defeated voice, but his eye contact did not falter.

“Then you must remember I said not to sneak in on our meetings, do you not?”

“I do, Father.”

“Then you obviously know the consequences if you had been seen. What if The King saw you? What if you had disrupted the meeting?"

Leo crossed his arms defiantly. “I—“

“Hutch, go easy on the boy.” Rowan interrupted. He looked at Leo, “Sorry, go easy on the man.” He grinned and patted the young man on the back before turning to Hutch. “Do not be so angry with him – he was just curious to see what his future would be like. After all, he is your heir. Can you blame him for wanting to learn all he can about being the Royal Advisor?” Rowan gave him a sympathetic, wide-eyed face. Leo caught on and gave Hutch the same look.

Hutch looked at the two pleading faces with an unchanged expression. Then, he sighed. “You are lucky your uncle is here, Leonius.”

Both Rowan and Leo smiled in victory. “Thank you, Father.”

“This is why I am his favorite uncle.” Rowan placed a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“You aren’t even related,” Hutch pointed out.

“In bond, Brother,” Rowan put his other hand on Hutch’s shoulder and shook both Duval boys, “in bond.”

Hutch rolled his eyes, but even he could not hide the small smile.

“Come now, young sir Leo,” Rowan Slid his hand to grab the nape of Leo’s neck, “You and I shall return to the barracks. We both have a lot of work to do.”

With that, Rowan lead the boy off, leaving the Royal advisor behind to shake his head.

Hutch found his way to the Royal Gardens. Flowers and luscious plants surrounded the gardens, growing so big and vivacious that the pathway was hardly visible. Hutch had to spend several minutes pushing leaves and branches out of the way before he found any human life. In one of the smaller corners of the gardens, two people were crouched over a bare path of dirt. An older woman with wrinkled skin and long, gray hair was instructing a boy nearly forty years her junior. This boy was around the age of sixteen with long, jet-black wavy hair. His hands were dug deep into the earth, his sleeves rolled up to expose his muscular arms. Dirt littered his face and arms while the older woman only had a coat of dirt on her hands.

“Guilt my son into doing your work again, Katelyn?”

The two gardeners turned to see Hutch standing over them. Kate stood up, brushed her hands together, and smirked. “As you know, dear brother, Cedric enjoys gardening with me,” she pointed out. Cedric pulled himself from his work and joined them, only standing at chin-height with his father. He smiled in greeting. Kate stroked a hand over his soft black hair, “He’s just like my Alexander.”

“He should be at the barracks with the others, as a young squire should be.”

“But I like gardening, Father.” Cedric refuted, “Aunt Kate and Uncle Alexander have taught me a great deal about plants.

Hutch obviously looked displeased, but sighed. He would deal with that later. “I came to ask if you know where your sister is.”

“I think she went down to the barracks early this morning.”

“For what do you need Emma?” Katelyn inquired with a curious look.

“Actually,” began Hutch, “that is of no concern to you.”

“So secretive,” Kate huffed.

Hutch smirked slightly. “I will leave you two to your flowers.”

The two nodded, each offering a quick bow in goodbye. Hutch turned and walked off, but was stopped by a call from Kate. “Hey! Is today not your anniversary? Aren’t you going to see your wife today?"

Hutch looked at Kate from over his shoulder, a mischievous grin appearing on his lips. “We shall see,” was all he said before disappearing through the foliage.

“Your father thinks he’s so clever,” Kate said with amusement.

----

Many knights, squires, and workers filled the Barracks that afternoon. Men fought with javelins, swords, maces, shields, and every other weapon known to a knight. But there were two other people there fighting with nothing but their fists – two women, in fact. From afar, one of the women could easily be mistaken for a man due to her short-cropped hair and slender physique. Nowadays, however, there are very few people in Cottonwine who would mistake her as such due to her reputable status. Not only had she gained respect and recognition among the knights with her fierce and talented skill as a fighter, but she also married their Grandmaster.

Fighting opposite to her was a woman much younger, but not much less known. This young woman had long, thick, dark brown hair that, when braided as it currently was, fell down to the middle of her back. She stood at just about same height as the older woman, carrying the same frame, proving her to be a physically even match for her dueler. Unfortunately, she was nowhere near as skilled.

The two women danced around each other. The younger one was in the offense, sending punches that would ultimately get blocked. Eventually she made one wrong step, and the older woman took the chance. In one quick, effortless movement, the young woman was flipped through the air and sent to the ground. The air was knocked out of her upon impact, disorienting her for a few moments. When her breath finally came back and eyes stopped spinning, she saw a hand held out before her.

“If I had a piece of silver every time my wife knocked me on my ass, I would be richer than The King himself,” came a deep voice from behind the women. By the time the younger one was pulled to her feet, she was greeted by the sight of both her uncle and father.

“And I will continue to knock you on your ass until the day you die,” his wife promised.

Rowan could not help but grin. “I look forward to those years to come.”

“Hello, Papa.” The young girl greeted Hutch as he approached.

“Fine form you have, Emma. You are improving.”

Emma smiled slightly, but looked to the ground. “But Aunt Silme still defeated me – rather easily.”

Hutch chuckled lightly. “My Darling, I have spent most of my life losing in a duel to your Uncle Rowan. That does not mean I am not a fine warrior,” he said, taking a hand and stroking her hair.

“Well…” Rowan started, earning a sideways glare from Hutch. Silme punched Rowan in the arm on behalf of Hutch, causing Rowan to wince.

“You are doing well, kid,” Silme offered, “Give it time and no man will be able to touch you.” To that, Emma gave an appreciative smile.

After a beat, Silme turned to her husband. “Hey, I thought you were cooped up at the Castle today?” she inquired.

“I decided I had to come down and visit my beautiful—” he placed his hands on either side of her arms, “—talented, skillful, amazing wife.” He smiled charmingly before leaning down to kiss her lips.

“Mmm,” Silme pulled away and poked a finger on Rowan’s chest. “You’re hiding from the Court Physician, aren’t you?”

Rowan’s face fell. “Maybe... It's just... Anders is so boring!” He pouted, “and he’s everywhere. No matter where I go, there he is. And he’s always stopping me to talk about some scheme he has to ‘free his people.’ I can’t take it anymore! I’d rather lose a battle to Hutch than speak to him again.”

Hutch grunted.

A hint of a smile cracked across Silme’s face. She brought a hand up and patted his cheek, “You're such a handsome wimp,” she said. Rowan sighed.

“Papa,” Emma grabbed the Royal Advisor’s attention, “Why are you here?”

“Oh, right.” Hutch put a hand on her shoulder, “Take a walk with me. I have something I need you to do…”

#vermidian #honeybee #rolme #HAPPY HONEYBEEVERSARY #ILU #writing #part two coming soon to a blog near you #honeybeeversary

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setmefreewritings-blog · 10 years

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He didn’t even grant him the chance to say goodbye.

They threw him out so hard he could barely keep his footing. By the time he regained his stance, the large wooden gates behind him slammed shut. It took him several moments of staring at the closed off gates to register exactly what just happened. Finally, a single word escaped his lips.

“No.”

They couldn’t do this to him. Not without a chance to see her, to at least say goodbye. He stepped forward, slamming his hands against the hard wood. “No! Not like this! Let me back in, I have a wife! Kay, you bastard! Let me see my wife!”

Sir Kay was the Royal Advisor to the late King Arthur, and now to their Reagent, Codor Pendragon. He was seen to be a wise and fair man – but not to Rowan and Hutch. Two knights loyal to Camelot, they had begun to grow suspicious of Kay and his motives. And so they began to investigate him in secret, watching his actions, all in hope of exposing the corrupt intentions of the Royal Advisor. But somehow, Kay caught on. He went to Codor and made a false claim against them, telling their Reagent they were plotting against the throne. He pinned them as traitors and wished them dead. They would have been hung, as all traitors are, but Codor took pity on them. They had served him for years, and he did not have the heart to execute them so quickly. So instead he had them banished from the entire kingdom. Without giving them the chance to return to loved ones, Kay had them thrown out right then and there.

This was how Hutch ended up pounding his fists against the gate, screaming to be let back in.

“Carmen!” he shouted, pressed up against the door. “Let me see her! You can’t do this! Kay!”

“Hutch,” came the calm, deep voice of his friend and fellow exiled knight. Rowan had been watching the spectacle with a soft frown.

“Let me talk to her, bring her here, anything! Just don’t keep me from my wife!”

“Hutch,” Rowan said again. He placed a hand on Hutch’s shoulder. The banging slowly stopped, as did the shouting. No one was answering, nor were they going to answer. Hutch slowly released his head so it fell against the door, his fists uncurling against the wood.

“I will never see her again.” Hutch’s voice, quiet and broken, barely managed to come out. He stood in that position for a long while, unable to bring himself to move. Tears dripped down his nose and fell into the dirt below. “She would have come with me; I know she would have…. But I couldn’t.. I couldn’t even say goodbye. And now I will never see her again.”

Rowan was silent. What could he say to that? Hutch was right. Kay’s men weren’t going to tell Carmen where they went. Hell, Hutch would have been lucky if they even told her anything.

Hutch was going to have to move on, though. Banging his fist against the door was not going to get him back to his wife. They both knew that.

“We must go, brother. Light is fading and we must find place to set up camp.” Rowan gently pried Hutch away, the brokenhearted knight numbly stepping back. Wiping away the trail of tears down his nose, Hutch inhaled deeply, nodding. He what they had to do next. They were going to leave the kingdom and seek out a new place to survive.

Then he was going to find his way back to Carmen – or he was going to die trying.

It took weeks, but eventually the two men found refuge in a neighboring kingdom. The kingdom of Corbenic was significantly smaller than Camelot, and far less prosperous, but they were welcomed all the same. They found kindness in the homes of strangers for several nights, until they came to meet one of the knights of Corbenic. Through this man they were granted an audience with their fair king, Percival. He listened to their story. Hearing they were knights of Camelot, he offered them a place as one of his very own knights, for he had been a close friend to Arthur many years ago. They gratefully accepted, and thus they began their new lives as Knights of Corbenic.

Rowan tried his best to forget his past life. He had been scorned by the betrayal of his kingdom, and he did not wish to return home.

Hutch refused to do the same. He missed Carmen far more than he thought he could bear. Forgetting her, forgetting the wonderful life they had together, would absolutely destroy him. As the months went by, he kept replaying moments of their time together in his head, wanting to remember every single detail about her. He tried to remember how soft her fingers felt as she ran them through his hair, how her jet black hair framed her beautiful face, how incredibly overjoyed he was on the day of their wedding... Desperate as he was to remember every minute detail about her, time threatened to take those cherished memories away. They faded as the months grew on, and Hutch feared for the day he would be unable to remember her face.

In those months at Corbenic, Hutch rarely slept. He tried for the first month or so, but soon gave up out of frustration. Not feeling Carmen’s warm body in his arms each night only reminded him how much he truly missed her – he felt incomplete without her beside him. So instead, he would spend most his nights awake, performing tasks needed to be done. Some nights he would stay up and try to search through those memories he so desperately wished to keep. It was in those nights that guilt stabbed at his heart the most.

Hutch abandoned her. Kay may have thrown him out, but he could have found some way to communicate with her. He could have tried to get a message to one of the knights, seek out her parents, fight his way back in, done anything just to get word to her. But he didn’t, and sometimes he wondered if she thought he had abandoned her. She could not be blamed for being angry at him. In fact, some nights, Hutch kept himself awake wondering if Carmen had eventually moved on. She could have found a new man by now. Fallen in love, start a new life. As much as he wanted to say he wished for her happiness, the thought of her in the arms of someone else nearly brought him physical pain. Carmen was his. If he ever found his way back to Camelot, whether it be days or years later, he would probably run a sword right through the other man.

God, how he missed her.

As time wore on, Hutch’s hope of seeing his wife again slowly dwindled away. The hope was severely crushed when Percival was brought the news that Codor had died… and Kay had taken over as King of Camelot. Life for both Camelot and Corbenic drastically changed when Kay took over the thrown. Camelot was no longer prosperous, and with its descent they cut off all ties to their allies. Corbenic relied on aid from Camelot to aid their growing land, and with the betrayal of Kay, they soon began to feel the threat of starvation.

One day, everything changed. It was the day he rescued a young woman in the woods from Kay’s men. He brought her back to Corbenic to stay with Rowan and him until she found a new home. In her days there, they discovered that this woman was the Princess of Camelot – Adria Pendragon. Upon discovering her identity, Hutch’s the dying flame of Hutch’s hope of returning to his home was rekindled. She could return home and reclaim her throne from the corrupt Kay. Adria refused at first. She had no confidence that she could become queen, and instead decided to hide from her responsibilities. She found love with Rowan, and she did not want to leave.

She remained stubborn in her decision until the day Kay’s men raided the town of Corbenic. He slaughtered dozens of innocent people just to kill Adria. They won the fight, but not without the loss of many lives. Adria finally found her courage and asked Percival to help her reclaim her throne. Hutch was immediately at her side. He would fight for his old Kingdom. He would fight for his wife.

He just hoped he survived long enough to see her again.

The battle was ever greater than the attack on Corbenic. Camelot’s defenses were great, but with Hutch’s knowledge of the working of Camelot’s knights, he was able to help Adria and Percival’s men get into Camelot. They fought their way up to the castle, where Adria made her final fight against Kay. Rowan, who had refused to fight at first, appeared at Hutch’s side as he fought on the castle grounds. Together they fought, keeping the army distracted long enough so Adria to get to Kay. The fighting eventually ceased when Adria returned from the castle, the crown in her hand. They had won.

Hours later, Hutch found himself jogging down the streets of Camelot. He was bloodied, bruised, cut, and exhausted, but none of that mattered. He had to go find Carmen; at least to make sure she had not been hurt in the heat of battle. Hutch did not doubt her cleverness kept her alive and well, yet he worried all the same. The familiar façade of the shop came into view, and Hutch felt his stomach lurch with anticipation. It was exactly the same as he left it all those months ago – save the broken windows, which he would repair for her. Hutch reached for the doorknob and grabbed the handle, then froze. A sudden wave of mixed emotions washed over him. There was excitement to see her again, but mostly fear took over. He feared she might have been hurt, or even gone. He feared she would not want to see him after abandoning her for so long. He feared she would be inside, cleaning up her shop with someone else. Although he had ran this moment through his head hundreds, no, thousands of times, he still had no idea how it was going to play out.

There was only one way to find out.

Hutch opened the door.

He forgot to breathe for a moment. The door deftly shut behind him as he stood there, looking at the backside of his wife. She was busy putting away cloth in the cupboards, telling him that they were closed. Hutch wanted to say something clever in response, but he couldn’t even get his mouth to open. All he could do was stand there numbly as he waited for her to turn around. When he finally saw Carmen’s face, he thought it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

“Hutch!”

Hearing her voice call his name brought a bright smile to his lips and tears to his eyes. He could only take one step forward before they collided, his arms wrapping tightly around her warm body. The feel of her arms around his neck was almost unreal, as if this was all part of a dream. But it wasn’t. She was there, and she was in his arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispered, even as she told him she missed him. He had so much to say to her that he couldn’t get out anything but a hoarse ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again. He could only apologize for having allowed himself to be away from her for so long. How he survived without her was beyond his knowledge. He should have withered away without her months ago.

She pulled away all too soon, and for a moment Hutch began to worry something was wrong. But it was her who was worried, for she questioned his health as held his face in her hands. Hutch with his red, watery eyes and a smile looked down at her as if he was looking at the last woman on Earth. He opened his mouth in an attempt to assure her he was not hurt, yet her mouth stopped the words from leaving his tongue. A rush of warmth surged through his body at the feel of her lips against his. He held her close, pressing against her body as he lost himself in the kiss. When it (regrettably) ended, they shifted into a closer position, Hutch wrapping his arms around her shoulders and upper back. When she told him the knights had spoken of him as if he were dead, Hutch could only whisper another apology. He was sorry he had to put her through that. He was sorry he left her for long. He was sorry he hadn’t fought through the entire army by himself just to get back to her sooner.

He could have stayed in their embrace all night. It had to end eventually, however, as Carmen pulled away first. Hutch wanted to drag her right back into the hug but refrained, instead finding contentment in holding her hand. He took his free hand and cupped her face, using his thumb to wipe away the remnants of her tears. Surely his face was just as wet as hers. A joyous smile spread across his face as he looked down at her, so occupied with studying her face that he almost missed her asking if he had missed her. He had. Of course he had. He didn’t stop missing her from the moment he was thrown out the gates.

The rest of the night was theirs. Carmen offered him some soup, and he gladly accepted when he remembered that he was starving after having fought several hours non-stop. He laughed when she offered to spoon-feed him, insisting that it was quite all right. As hungry as he was, he found himself unable to focus on his food with Carmen in the room. He took all of five bites before he dropped his spoon and turned his attention solely on his wife, basking in the joy of her presence. He couldn’t help kissing her over and over again, kissing her hand, her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, giving her passionate kisses, soft kisses, and everything in between. He couldn’t help himself. He loved her far, far too much.

Hutch refused to let her get too far away the entire evening. Even as she helped clean the evidence of war off his body, he made sure to have a hand on her, as if he was afraid she would disappear if he let go. She fussed over his health, almost too worried to the point that she missed him insisting that she get in with him. He had to assure her many times that, yes, he was all right. The extent of his injuries was mostly internal, with his body aching everywhere. There was one noteworthy new scar on his back which stretched in a diagonal from his left shoulder all the way down to the other corner of his back, but as that happened back in the battle of Corbenic, it was no longer an issue. Besides, even if he was injured, he did not want to waste precious moments with Carmen worrying over himself.

Eventually, they found themselves in their bed. At last, he was able to hold her in his arms. They spoke of their time apart, recapping each other of the things they missed. In the moments when she was speaking, Hutch placed kisses all over her body, murmuring about how much he loved her. Hutch lied with Carmen resting on his chest, draping an arm across her back. With her arm thrown over his bare body, he gently placed his other hand on top of hers, his fingers gently rubbing her smooth skin. Kissing the top of her head, he settled into their position. For the first night since he was exiled, Hutch slept the whole night through.

And it was all because his wife was in his arms once again.

#vermidian #carutch #au #oafq

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