Kiernan Manley (wingsofwyverns) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-05-06 09:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !narrative, kiernan manley |
Who: Kiernan Manley & Lucy
What: How to Placate Your Dragon A reunion
Where: Just outside the city walls
When: This morning
Rating: PG13 (swearing, mentions of death, near death)
Status: Complete
Kiernan would have been out here a lot sooner, but Mag and Lavitz were right; there was no point in pushing himself too hard too soon. The Dragon Rider captain even ordered him not to report to duty for at least two weeks. “You need that shoulder or you’re useless to us,” she had hissed before shoving Kiernan out of the guildhall. Kiernan had scowled and sulked home, hearing the wisdom in her words but hating that he felt only slightly better than an invalid. He still felt that way, but the amulet felt too cold and heavy on his chest, and he wondered and worried about Lucy. She was fine. If she wasn’t, Lavitz and Mag would have said something, did something. Beyond that, Kiernan just knew. But her attacks had been completely useless against that ugly-ass monster, and she couldn’t be happy about that. And a grumpy dragon was always a more dangerous dragon than a calmer dragon. So, finally, today, he decided to check in on her. If the captain didn’t like it, she could stick it up her ass. It wasn’t like Kiernan was counting on Lucy to be in a good enough mood to take him out for a joyride or anything. (Though if she was, hell if Kiernan would pass up that chance; it’d be good to get away for a couple of hours, forget the image of broken buildings and angry and melancholy citizens, and just fly.) But, ah, the fresh air, untainted by the lingering smells of a city in mourning. Kiernan took a moment to breathe it in, already feeling more at peace than he’d been in a really long time. He had spent yesterday visiting the Aleynes and the Karths and taking to the Necrohol to pay his respects, just before poking his head into the guildhall to talk to the captain. With his exhale, he let the anger and the grief dissipate, his thoughts stealing away to Zacheus and Cressida once more. They died heroes, the perfect way for anyone in the Fighters Guild to go, the way they would have wanted to go. (But the more Kiernan thought about it, and the more he recalled his own brush with death, the realization began to sink in more and more: what if they had wanted more from life, as he found himself wanting? Because now he can see himself dying an old man warm in his bed, having lived a good life, and it’s an ideal he never thought he wanted. Was it something they might wanted, too, deep down?) Then, he gripped the amulet on his chest, preparing himself for the inevitable, and within a few minutes, a dark form appeared in the distance, and Kiernan could feel Lucy’s anger already. She landed with a heavy THUD. A second later, she had her head reared back, and Kiernan was barely in shape enough to dodge the flames that erupted from her mouth with an angry roar. “Ow, shit!” he yelped. Though he’d expected it, it was going to be hell trying to explain away the new burn marks. At least Mag and Lavitz might understand. Still. “Damn, girl, sorry I’m not dead, shit…” Then Kiernan found himself knocked off his feet. Lucy’s forehead touched his, and a strange sound trilled from her throat. “Are you… purring?” With that, the moment was over, and Lucy backed away and took to flight. Kiernan watched as she disappeared over the horizon, stunned. Once she was gone, he couldn’t help but to chuckle. “Yeah, I love you, too.” |