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Posted on September 17, 2014 at 11:30:31 PM by rohmarr
There it was, as Rohmarr had known it would be eventually: that small tug at his center, that was suddenly afraid. Until that fateful night he and his crew had been captured, when the beautiful ship they'd commandeered almost six years prior had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, Rohmarr had been a free man. Sure, he'd also been a loyal man, a man who had stuck by his captain and crew through good times and bad, but he'd always known he was the master of his own fate and could go where he wanted, do as he pleased, and there weren't many who would be able to stop him. And then, in that dark, damp place, he'd had no freedom at all. Chained to the wall, weak with hunger and pain and, eventually, the fever brought on by infection. He could look at this indentured time as being another prison, this time one of his own choosing, and yes, there was a part of him that trembled with the need to escape such a life. But, as he chose to do in that moment, he could also see it as an opportunity. A chance to prove himself worthy in the eyes of what seemed to be a shrewd and fair man, and to the gods. He could redeem himself and his crew, work towards a purpose greater than his own greed. Though he was forced to discreetly wipe the sweat from the palms of his hands at the idea, Rohmarr stood tall and confident as he nodded to Arthur.
"Understood, Your Grace," he answered, and his deep voice held no apprehension. His mouth was a little dry, his heartbeat a little fast, but he knew he was doing what was right. There was no going back now. And then, for a fraction of a second, surprise showed on Rohmarr's dark features. The guard? Arthur was giving him a position with the guard? Truth be told, Rohmarr had prepared himself for a life of menial labor: mucking stalls, cleaning up after people, that sort of thing. But Arthur had set him the task of looking after others in an entirely different way, to protect them. His mind reeled as the king continued, explaining he was entitled to a room, clothing, pay, and food provided at the Crown's expense. It was more than he'd expected by far. "I..." The big man cleared his throat, searching for the proper words. There was usually a certain... thoughtfulness to him, a bit of eloquence in the way he spoke, but such grace defied him at the moment. Instead, he ducked his head and spoke honestly. "I thank you, Your Grace," he said. "This is far more than I expected." This time, as he took the quill to sign his own name where designated, there was no tremble or dampness to reveal his fear. This time, there was hope. He wrote his name simply in rather blocky letters, having no talent for what he deemed 'fancy writing'. Rohmarr looked down at his name, at the contract that now bound him to this king, and... felt his lips curve up a bit. This was it, the first step. Already he felt lighter, as if the souls of his crew were smiling too. "I'll do my be-" Rohmarr began, wanting to reassure the king even in some small way that his kindness would not go to waste, when a sharp call from above interrupted. Rohmarr swallowed against the lump in his throat, already knowing what had upset the bird. Trouble's hindlegs were just visible beneath the curtains, which Rohmarr was certain the raccoon considered the best hiding place in the whole world. "Ah, that's my... Uh..." Rohmarr, feeling his face heat and feeling rather thankful that any blush would be hidden by his dark skin, lowered his voice to a menacing hiss. "Trouble!"" The raccoon peered out at him from behind the curtain, his eyes as wide and innocent as he could make them. Seeing all attention focused on him, he slowly began to sink back behind the curtain. Trouble had the rather childish impression that if he couldn't see you, you couldn't see him, and was certain he only had to stand still and quiet for a few minutes before he'd become invisible behind the curtains again. Rohmarr, shooting the king an apologetic and rather embarrassed look, snapped his fingers. This finally convinced Trouble to scamper over to him again, this time crawling his way up to the man's shoulders. The raccoon leaned close to his ear. "How did they find me?" he whispered, his voice a shade too loud for the words to actually be private, as he eyed the bird with curiosity. He hadn't much minded the poke, but was rather startled that the bird had actually been able to find him. Rohmarr pinched the bridge of his nose in a rare expression of exasperation. "My apologies, Your Grace, Trouble is... New to castles. And manners," he added, as the raccoon's nimble fingers started to worry the stray thread in his shirt. |
Replies:
- guide him with your grace - By Arthur September 19, 2014 at 09:42:50 PM
- the sea at dawn is a cathedral - By rohmarr September 20, 2014 at 01:00:20 AM
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