Like Clockwork
Title: Like Clockwork
Rating: PG-13
Warning: OC death, SPOILERS for most recent episodes.
Summary: An outside insider looking on in a certain powerful recent event.
There’s a point you reach when your heart beats a hollow cadence out and you realize that you’ll never be loved. There’s a place in that emptiness when a man’s life is worth less than a good cow and your king’s word more than gold.
There’s a point when you’re ready and you go.
………………………
He’s become very good at tuning out pity, turning off hate. He nursed Vesper Abbadon through the worst years of his madness and David Shepherd isn’t the first good man he’s killed, or even the first good man he’s killed on little more than the king’s word.
Boys like Shepherd come along every few years, good and golden and dangerous. Like orphaned tiger cubs, everyone’s better off once they’re in the ground.
………………………
It is the hand that winds the clock that sets it to chime. No one blames the gears when it chimes.
………………………
When he was younger and more easily impressed, he thought men like Shepherd, who donned their coats, or whatever ragged remnants were left, who walked, measured step after measured step, were brave.
He knows better now. This is resignation, the salmon outfought by the spring, the wolf driven to the cliff, the stag brought low by hounds.
There’s no bravery here.
…………………………….
Prayers are thoughts given wing and set free. Some were better left in the cage.
……………………………
He’s not disappointed when Shepherd stays quiet, whispers a prayer. There’s never anything to be gained in last words. He’s heard all the rage, hate, and despair before. Even the forgiveness is worthless.
Who needs forgiveness for a job well done?
………………………….
The beginning of the end is the beginning.
…………………………
When the pain registers, after the gunfire dies down, he’s embarrassed more than anything else. He’s past pity, past sorry, even for boys like David Shepherd. This is ridiculous.
Then the damp in his shirt registers.
After that, there’s nothing.
………………………….
It’s a beautiful thought, but in this world, with its machinations, mysteries and butterflies how many of us are truly loved?
Rating: PG-13
Warning: OC death, SPOILERS for most recent episodes.
Summary: An outside insider looking on in a certain powerful recent event.
There’s a point you reach when your heart beats a hollow cadence out and you realize that you’ll never be loved. There’s a place in that emptiness when a man’s life is worth less than a good cow and your king’s word more than gold.
There’s a point when you’re ready and you go.
………………………
He’s become very good at tuning out pity, turning off hate. He nursed Vesper Abbadon through the worst years of his madness and David Shepherd isn’t the first good man he’s killed, or even the first good man he’s killed on little more than the king’s word.
Boys like Shepherd come along every few years, good and golden and dangerous. Like orphaned tiger cubs, everyone’s better off once they’re in the ground.
………………………
It is the hand that winds the clock that sets it to chime. No one blames the gears when it chimes.
………………………
When he was younger and more easily impressed, he thought men like Shepherd, who donned their coats, or whatever ragged remnants were left, who walked, measured step after measured step, were brave.
He knows better now. This is resignation, the salmon outfought by the spring, the wolf driven to the cliff, the stag brought low by hounds.
There’s no bravery here.
…………………………….
Prayers are thoughts given wing and set free. Some were better left in the cage.
……………………………
He’s not disappointed when Shepherd stays quiet, whispers a prayer. There’s never anything to be gained in last words. He’s heard all the rage, hate, and despair before. Even the forgiveness is worthless.
Who needs forgiveness for a job well done?
………………………….
The beginning of the end is the beginning.
…………………………
When the pain registers, after the gunfire dies down, he’s embarrassed more than anything else. He’s past pity, past sorry, even for boys like David Shepherd. This is ridiculous.
Then the damp in his shirt registers.
After that, there’s nothing.
………………………….
It’s a beautiful thought, but in this world, with its machinations, mysteries and butterflies how many of us are truly loved?