DR WHO FIC: The Red King
Title: The Red King
Author: charlottetrips
Rating & Word-Count: PG-13, 336
Character(s): Rory Williams
Genre: Action, Drama
Author’s Note: Written for who_contest current challenge “Red”. After a dry spell, this is what comes to me. I don’t know why.
Summary: For two millennia, he only had one purpose in life. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to achieve it.
He ducked as the heavy battle axe swung towards his neck, coming up under the brute’s arms to drive his sword into the man’s belly, his wrist bending with the force of the blow.
He barely paused as the man’s body dropped limp to the ground. He turned to meet the onslaught of another barbarian running at him full tilt from the left. The foreigner’s mouth was open screaming his rage, dark eyes filled with hate and fury. Crouching, he met the larger man’s attack with his shoulder, heaving him over. Without thought he swiveled on his left foot while arcing his sword around to rip it across the fallen warrior’s throat. He turned a blind eye to the dying man’s last wet gasp.
And so the battle raged on. His mind filled not with thoughts of the fact that these were people he was killing, only knowing that they were just another threat that had to be eliminated. His body was just as deadly as his sword, shooting the enemy just as much as he would cut then down. No one took notice, too caught up in this fight for survival.
He made a swathe of destruction through the attacking force, barely registering the other men fighting at his side. They were only ends to a mean, the one objective he’d had for the past millennium.
Protect her.
Finally, the invading force was subdued. The vacuum that had surrounded his every movement fell away and his ears were filled with the sounds of men near the edge of death, his own harsh breathing. He felt the sweat dripping down his back and arms, his skin tight with tension, his muscles aching with exertion. He moved to sheath his weapon and stopped, suddenly horrified at the sight that met his eyes.
As he looked at the sword in his hand, the crimson life blood of countless men dripping down its shiny surface he understood why his name was what it was - Rory, the Red King.
Author: charlottetrips
Rating & Word-Count: PG-13, 336
Character(s): Rory Williams
Genre: Action, Drama
Author’s Note: Written for who_contest current challenge “Red”. After a dry spell, this is what comes to me. I don’t know why.
Summary: For two millennia, he only had one purpose in life. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to achieve it.
He ducked as the heavy battle axe swung towards his neck, coming up under the brute’s arms to drive his sword into the man’s belly, his wrist bending with the force of the blow.
He barely paused as the man’s body dropped limp to the ground. He turned to meet the onslaught of another barbarian running at him full tilt from the left. The foreigner’s mouth was open screaming his rage, dark eyes filled with hate and fury. Crouching, he met the larger man’s attack with his shoulder, heaving him over. Without thought he swiveled on his left foot while arcing his sword around to rip it across the fallen warrior’s throat. He turned a blind eye to the dying man’s last wet gasp.
And so the battle raged on. His mind filled not with thoughts of the fact that these were people he was killing, only knowing that they were just another threat that had to be eliminated. His body was just as deadly as his sword, shooting the enemy just as much as he would cut then down. No one took notice, too caught up in this fight for survival.
He made a swathe of destruction through the attacking force, barely registering the other men fighting at his side. They were only ends to a mean, the one objective he’d had for the past millennium.
Protect her.
Finally, the invading force was subdued. The vacuum that had surrounded his every movement fell away and his ears were filled with the sounds of men near the edge of death, his own harsh breathing. He felt the sweat dripping down his back and arms, his skin tight with tension, his muscles aching with exertion. He moved to sheath his weapon and stopped, suddenly horrified at the sight that met his eyes.
As he looked at the sword in his hand, the crimson life blood of countless men dripping down its shiny surface he understood why his name was what it was - Rory, the Red King.