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perfectworrytitle: What Thou Wilt
verse: Alfheim
community:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
writerverse
prompt: Challenge #06: Weekly Quick Fic #2 ("unwanted freedom")
word count: 252
rating: G
summary: The dethroned king of Alfheim releases her most faithful knight from service.
"Then I release thee from thy service." The king stood with her head bowed, but she looked up now to the knight before her on bended knee. "Lady Marama, go where thee wilt in freedom."
"Then I would stay," said the knight. "I would stay by your side as your friend, if you will not have me as your servant."
"I would not have you as my knight." Tears flowed down the king's cheeks, but her voice didn't waver. "If you would stay with me only as my friend, then I would have you, and be grateful. Were I still the King of Alfheim, I would keep you as my most honored knight, but I have neither crown nor kingdom."
"You are my king, whether you sit upon the Golden Throne or not," said the knight, and she took the exiled king's hand in her own and laced their fingers together. "I swore an oath to you that I would follow you from where the sun rises in the morning to where it sets at night, from one pole of the earth to the other." The knight reached out and touched the king's face, resting her thumb against the king's trembling lips. "A promise I will keep, or die in the trying of it."
"The pride of your people will be the death of you, my friend," said the king, but she smiled as she spoke.
"Then come, friend, and lead me to whatever end. I ask only that it be glorious."
title: Equinox
verse: Alfheim
community:writerverse
prompt: Challenge #04: An adjective, a noun, and a prepositional phrase walk into a bar… ("Orange Flags on Display")
word count: 261
rating: G
summary: Before she was king, Lady Esyllt stood vigil against the coming dark.
Thirteen Years Prior…
Lady Esyllt sat on the parapet, swinging her feet in golden slippers. Far below the tower, orange flags whipped in the strong winds blowing off the Western Sea. She watched them waving proudly in defiance of the coming dark. Even from her vantage point far away, she could see the golden threads twinkling in the sunset.
Soon she would be called down to hold vigil against the dying light. Under the protection of the Summer Court, Lady Esyllt would stand with them this night.
For now, she sat alone in the tower with only the westerly winds for company and watched the fiery flags whipping and flickering in the light of the fires lit in the courtyard. From here, it felt as if she could reach out and touch the flames. She reached out as if to do so, only to be startled by a sudden voice.
"Milady Esyllt." Tristram, youngest of the king's councilors by many seasons and close to her in age, stood in the doorway of the tower room. Her strongest ally in the council, he had become almost her friend since she arrived at the palace as the only discovered heir to the Summer Throne and the House of the Golden Flower.
"Tristram." She nodded in acknowledgement and stepped down from the ledge.
"You're called for," he said.
He bowed as swept from the room, heavy golden cloak billowing behind her, borne on the wind. He followed, her meek and faithful servant, to whatever end would come, that night and all nights thereafter.
verse: Alfheim
community:
writerverse prompt: Challenge #06: Weekly Quick Fic #2 ("unwanted freedom")
word count: 252
rating: G
summary: The dethroned king of Alfheim releases her most faithful knight from service.
"Then I release thee from thy service." The king stood with her head bowed, but she looked up now to the knight before her on bended knee. "Lady Marama, go where thee wilt in freedom."
"Then I would stay," said the knight. "I would stay by your side as your friend, if you will not have me as your servant."
"I would not have you as my knight." Tears flowed down the king's cheeks, but her voice didn't waver. "If you would stay with me only as my friend, then I would have you, and be grateful. Were I still the King of Alfheim, I would keep you as my most honored knight, but I have neither crown nor kingdom."
"You are my king, whether you sit upon the Golden Throne or not," said the knight, and she took the exiled king's hand in her own and laced their fingers together. "I swore an oath to you that I would follow you from where the sun rises in the morning to where it sets at night, from one pole of the earth to the other." The knight reached out and touched the king's face, resting her thumb against the king's trembling lips. "A promise I will keep, or die in the trying of it."
"The pride of your people will be the death of you, my friend," said the king, but she smiled as she spoke.
"Then come, friend, and lead me to whatever end. I ask only that it be glorious."
title: Equinox
verse: Alfheim
community:
writerverse prompt: Challenge #04: An adjective, a noun, and a prepositional phrase walk into a bar… ("Orange Flags on Display")
word count: 261
rating: G
summary: Before she was king, Lady Esyllt stood vigil against the coming dark.
Thirteen Years Prior…
Lady Esyllt sat on the parapet, swinging her feet in golden slippers. Far below the tower, orange flags whipped in the strong winds blowing off the Western Sea. She watched them waving proudly in defiance of the coming dark. Even from her vantage point far away, she could see the golden threads twinkling in the sunset.
Soon she would be called down to hold vigil against the dying light. Under the protection of the Summer Court, Lady Esyllt would stand with them this night.
For now, she sat alone in the tower with only the westerly winds for company and watched the fiery flags whipping and flickering in the light of the fires lit in the courtyard. From here, it felt as if she could reach out and touch the flames. She reached out as if to do so, only to be startled by a sudden voice.
"Milady Esyllt." Tristram, youngest of the king's councilors by many seasons and close to her in age, stood in the doorway of the tower room. Her strongest ally in the council, he had become almost her friend since she arrived at the palace as the only discovered heir to the Summer Throne and the House of the Golden Flower.
"Tristram." She nodded in acknowledgement and stepped down from the ledge.
"You're called for," he said.
He bowed as swept from the room, heavy golden cloak billowing behind her, borne on the wind. He followed, her meek and faithful servant, to whatever end would come, that night and all nights thereafter.
