fic: traitorous men
Title: Traitorous Men
Author: sinemoras09
Characters: Lancer
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 690
Summary: Diarmuid faces a friend. Pre-series.
---
It was raining when Osgar found him: a lone figure standing in a yellow field, dark hair sticking to his neck and face. He was holding both his spears, but he did not take a stance. Instead, he merely looked at Osgar, his mouth drawn and his eyes filled with quiet sorrow.
"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. First Knight of the Fianna, now traitor to Fionn," Osgar said.
"Osgar mac Cumhaill, son of Oisin. Second Knight of the Fianna, now come to kill me," Diarmuid said. He lifted his spears heavily. "I have no joy in facing you, my friend."
"I can say the same," Osgar said, and he lifted his spear.
The two men regarded each other silently, rain falling over the both of them.
"Diarmuid," Osgar said. "As your friend, I beg of you. Lay down your arms and come with me now. The High King knows you were under a geas. He may yet spare your life."
"And what of Grainne?" Diarmuid said. He lowered his spear.
"She will be tried for treason and witchcraft," Osgar said.
"Treason and witchcraft?" Diarmuid said. "There will be no trial. There will only be death by drowning or fire!"
"Indeed," Osgar said, quietly. "She put you under a geas, my friend, and she disobeyed the King her father. The royal family suffers for her shame."
Diarmuid's face was pale.
"Osgar," Diarmuid said. "I would give my life willingly, here and now, to appease both Lord Fionn and the King. But on my honor, I cannot do that. I will not knowingly abandon Grainne."
"Are you mad?" Osgar said. "She is under the curse. She does not love you."
"All the more I cannot let her die," Diarmuid said. "The curse of my face compelled her, Osgar. She was not in her right mind!"
"The Lord gives us free will in the face of temptation, does He not?" Osgar said.
"Even so, my friend. I am still responsible."
Rain slid down the sides of Diarmuid's face, that lock of curling hair sticking to his skin. The nights on the run have not been kind to Diarmuid, and Osgar could see the dark hollows under Diarmuid's eyes and the smudges of dirt and grime on his fingers. Osgar could see his exhaustion, could feel it in his bones, but just as he could see that Diarmuid was very well nearing his limit, he also knew that Diarmuid would claw and spear at him with every ounce of his strength in spite of it.
Osgar sighed. "You swore an oath to Grainne," Osgar said, and he lowered his spear. "A pity neither self-preservation nor common sense will hope to break it."
Diarmuid blinked, unsure. "You are letting me go?" Diarmuid said.
"Aye, I am. Against my better judgment, no less," Osgar said. He glared, then pushed up his arm guard.
"Wound me," Osgar said.
"I do not unders--"
"A noble traitor and a right fool, too! Wound me so that I may tell Fionn honestly that you struck me with your spear."
"Oh!" Diarmuid said, and he held out his spear.
The cut was shallow, but long. Osgar grimaced, bearing it.
"I thank you, my friend," Diarmuid said, quietly. "You do not know how much this means to me."
"Make no mistake," Osgar said, and he wrapped the cut on his arm, roughly. "The next time we meet, it will be in front of the king's armies. I shall do battle with you until one of us falls." Diarmuid nodded, quietly.
"Until the next time, then," Diarmuid said.
"Until the next," Osgar said. He hitched his cloak and sword and headed toward the wall.
Author: sinemoras09
Characters: Lancer
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 690
Summary: Diarmuid faces a friend. Pre-series.
---
It was raining when Osgar found him: a lone figure standing in a yellow field, dark hair sticking to his neck and face. He was holding both his spears, but he did not take a stance. Instead, he merely looked at Osgar, his mouth drawn and his eyes filled with quiet sorrow.
"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. First Knight of the Fianna, now traitor to Fionn," Osgar said.
"Osgar mac Cumhaill, son of Oisin. Second Knight of the Fianna, now come to kill me," Diarmuid said. He lifted his spears heavily. "I have no joy in facing you, my friend."
"I can say the same," Osgar said, and he lifted his spear.
The two men regarded each other silently, rain falling over the both of them.
"Diarmuid," Osgar said. "As your friend, I beg of you. Lay down your arms and come with me now. The High King knows you were under a geas. He may yet spare your life."
"And what of Grainne?" Diarmuid said. He lowered his spear.
"She will be tried for treason and witchcraft," Osgar said.
"Treason and witchcraft?" Diarmuid said. "There will be no trial. There will only be death by drowning or fire!"
"Indeed," Osgar said, quietly. "She put you under a geas, my friend, and she disobeyed the King her father. The royal family suffers for her shame."
Diarmuid's face was pale.
"Osgar," Diarmuid said. "I would give my life willingly, here and now, to appease both Lord Fionn and the King. But on my honor, I cannot do that. I will not knowingly abandon Grainne."
"Are you mad?" Osgar said. "She is under the curse. She does not love you."
"All the more I cannot let her die," Diarmuid said. "The curse of my face compelled her, Osgar. She was not in her right mind!"
"The Lord gives us free will in the face of temptation, does He not?" Osgar said.
"Even so, my friend. I am still responsible."
Rain slid down the sides of Diarmuid's face, that lock of curling hair sticking to his skin. The nights on the run have not been kind to Diarmuid, and Osgar could see the dark hollows under Diarmuid's eyes and the smudges of dirt and grime on his fingers. Osgar could see his exhaustion, could feel it in his bones, but just as he could see that Diarmuid was very well nearing his limit, he also knew that Diarmuid would claw and spear at him with every ounce of his strength in spite of it.
Osgar sighed. "You swore an oath to Grainne," Osgar said, and he lowered his spear. "A pity neither self-preservation nor common sense will hope to break it."
Diarmuid blinked, unsure. "You are letting me go?" Diarmuid said.
"Aye, I am. Against my better judgment, no less," Osgar said. He glared, then pushed up his arm guard.
"Wound me," Osgar said.
"I do not unders--"
"A noble traitor and a right fool, too! Wound me so that I may tell Fionn honestly that you struck me with your spear."
"Oh!" Diarmuid said, and he held out his spear.
The cut was shallow, but long. Osgar grimaced, bearing it.
"I thank you, my friend," Diarmuid said, quietly. "You do not know how much this means to me."
"Make no mistake," Osgar said, and he wrapped the cut on his arm, roughly. "The next time we meet, it will be in front of the king's armies. I shall do battle with you until one of us falls." Diarmuid nodded, quietly.
"Until the next time, then," Diarmuid said.
"Until the next," Osgar said. He hitched his cloak and sword and headed toward the wall.