Ficlet: Rebel
title: Rebel (ficlet)
summary: Geoffrey tries to rally the townspeople
rating: PG-13/R
warning: mentions of violence
a/n: This is for the prompt of Gathering. Okay, so, this is a rewrite of a piece of the fic I've been working on a lot recently. It's a Monaboyd fic, and I realized as I was reading it through just now that I'd left at least one "Geoffrey" as "Dominic." oops. LOL This particular part doesn't have a whole lot of violence, though it is alluded to, but the rest of the fic has a shitload of it, and I'm not even kidding. And, Billy's a doctor in this.
“Why are your sons fighting?” Geoffrey shouted passionately. “Why are we all listening to the man who calls himself our King? He’s not even from our country!”
“Why aren’t you fighting?” a woman replied heatedly. “While our sons and husbands are dying, why are you still here?”
Geoffrey’s eyes flashed. Sean stepped in quickly to calm both his friend and the woman.
“He’s served his time for this war. And he’s taken more than his share of our pain.”
Geoffrey stripped off his loose shirt, wincing as he stretched to pull it over his head. “This is what I get for spreading the truth.” He spun around before Sean could stop him and they heard several loud gasps at the sight of his angry, fresh scars.
“What choice do we have?” an older man asked sadly.
“If we can fight for this King, we can fight against him. Together, we can take apart this archaic system and build something that we can support. Form a government that defends us, that doesn’t send us out to die in battle.”
“It’ll never work.”
“We can’t fight him. He has an army-”
“An army that’s fighting in the South. An army that’s half our people. The only thing tying us to that dictator is a fucking piece of paper. Our Queen is dead. She was our ruler, not him. He has no right to destroy our country like this-”
“He has every right.”
“He’s the King, Geoffrey. He can do what he likes.”
“Which is why I’m urging you to fight!” Geoffrey cried desperately. “He cares nothing for us. Why should we be loyal to a King like that?”
“Geoff-” Sean said softly. “Enough for now.”
“No, they need to hear this.”
“Hear what? We know he’s killing our boys with this pointless war. But they’re out there, fighting, and we can’t change that.”
“But we can, if we only try…” Geoffrey looked at Sean, and then at the others, with pleading eyes.
“We can’t defend ourselves against his soldiers.”
“We have no weapons.”
“There’d be no point. The constable would have us all executed, and then where would we be?”
“Dead, that’s where. Without accomplishing anything.”
“Geoffrey, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“But-”
Sean’s heart ached for the young man who was so passionate about his beliefs.
“No. We can’t fight.”
“And certainly not for you. If anything, we should be in the South, fighting beside our people.”
“For a country that no longer exists?” Geoffrey asked, despairing. “Our nation died with our Queen. If we can’t summon the will to defend our own freedom, why in God’s name are we fighting for something we don’t believe in?”
“Geoffrey, settle-” Sean tried.
“No, Sean, no. They need to listen-”
“No, Geoffrey, you listen to me,” Sean hissed. “You’ve made your speech, and they spit on it. They won’t listen to you now. Let it go. There will be other times for this.”
With a heavy sigh, Geoffrey nodded and sank into Sean’s welcoming arms. The room was slowly clearing around them.
“It was a good speech,” William said quietly, the last person left besides Sean and Geoffrey. “I wish I could help you.”
Geoffrey slowly turned around, still within Sean’s grasp. “You think it’s pointless as well? Standing up to this tyrant?”
“No,” William replied immediately, shaking his head. “I think it’s what needs to be done. But you’re a man before his time. Or after it, I’m not sure.”
Sean squeezed Geoffrey’s arm and let him go. “Eventually, they’ll hear what you’re saying.”
William nodded in agreement. “I suppose I should just be thankful you held your gathering here instead of in town.”
Geoffrey flashed William a wry, toothy smile. “Contrary to what you may think, I don’t wish to be a whipping post for the constable all my life.”
“Glad to hear it.” William took a few steps closer to the other two men. “May I see your back?”
Geoffrey turned around again, baring his scars to William. He reached out for Sean’s arm when William gently touched what used to be a deep cut across his shoulderblade.
“It’s healing alright,” William pronounced. “Though I wouldn’t recommend getting on the constable’s bad side anytime soon. Or ever again, for that matter.” William’s hand slid up to Geoffrey’s shoulder, and then William ruffled his hair playfully. “Take him home, Sean.”