Drabble: Swordplay
Title: Swordplay
Author: avendya
Fandom: Swordspoint (Ellen Kushner)
Prompt / Notes: Written for just_ann_now for the prompt "Richard, his mother, memory". Originally posted under friends-lock at my journal; cross-posted to _riverside. Approx. 170 words.
He fights as if in a dream, noticing everything and nothing around him. It's autumn, and the light is fading fast. (He parries quickly.)
Old memories drift to the surface of another autumn day - he couldn't have been more than four or five. It had been chilly, and his thin coat wasn't warm enough. But she was there with him, and that was enough. (He feints to the left.) She was laughing, holding his hand and pulling him along. She smiles at him, and he can't help but smile back at her.
She picks up a stick and pokes him with it. He grabs another stick, brandishing it like a sword. He fights back, a flurry of exaggerated motion. (Just like now, pushing his opponent back. He needs to finish this quickly.) She lets him win, of course, but nothing else matters when she hugs him close. He feels safe in her arms, protected from anything that might harm him.
(He strikes, one quick blow to the heart, and leaves his opponent for dead.)
Author: avendya
Fandom: Swordspoint (Ellen Kushner)
Prompt / Notes: Written for just_ann_now for the prompt "Richard, his mother, memory". Originally posted under friends-lock at my journal; cross-posted to _riverside. Approx. 170 words.
He fights as if in a dream, noticing everything and nothing around him. It's autumn, and the light is fading fast. (He parries quickly.)
Old memories drift to the surface of another autumn day - he couldn't have been more than four or five. It had been chilly, and his thin coat wasn't warm enough. But she was there with him, and that was enough. (He feints to the left.) She was laughing, holding his hand and pulling him along. She smiles at him, and he can't help but smile back at her.
She picks up a stick and pokes him with it. He grabs another stick, brandishing it like a sword. He fights back, a flurry of exaggerated motion. (Just like now, pushing his opponent back. He needs to finish this quickly.) She lets him win, of course, but nothing else matters when she hugs him close. He feels safe in her arms, protected from anything that might harm him.
(He strikes, one quick blow to the heart, and leaves his opponent for dead.)