Speak Thee of Heroes
Title: Speak Thee of Heroes
Author: robinfanatic
Characters: Djaq, Carter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: angst
Words: 524
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; I just want to play in their universe
Notes: written for rh_intercomm; takes place during 2x13; beta'd by darkentwisted & wastingyourgum; and look! My 6th comm represented at Intercomm!
Great occasions do not make heroes or cowards; they simply unveil them to the eyes of men. --Brooke Foss Westcott
Summary: Djaq offers comfort to Carter in his final moments on this earth...
Speak Thee of Heroes
by robinfanatic
Djaq heard the barely perceptible moan coming from the shadows ahead. She moved silently through the narrow alleyway, fearful that an enemy soldier might be hidden in one of the darkened alcoves. A white tunic emblazoned with more than just the red of the Templar cross caught her eye - blood soaked the garment, spilling onto the sand.
"Carter!" she exclaimed. She laid her sword aside and moved to her knees beside the soldier.
Carter heard her call his name and opened his pain-filled eyes. "The king?" he asked through rasping breaths.
"He is fine," Djaq replied.
Carter nodded, his hand drifting toward the gash across his belly. "Thought...I knew where...he was," he panted, sweat beading on his brow. "Guess I was...wrong."
Djaq ran her hand across his forehead. It was deadly quiet though the others were combing the village. She didn't want to risk shouting for help. It would do no good to call for them anyway. They'd find her soon enough, though perhaps not soon enough to say goodbye to Carter. The wound was bad - so much blood pooled around his body - but she pulled his tunic aside to inspect it. For all her battle experience, she had to force herself not to turn away when she saw the slash that stretched across and deeply into his stomach. She pressed the tunic back down to slow the flow of blood but knew his life was in Allah's hands.
"The Sheriff?"
"Got away."
Carter closed his eyes against the pain. "Help me up," he grimaced through clenched teeth.
"Lay there!" Djaq ordered. "Do you get this from your king?" she added, her tone softer
Carter knew exactly what she meant. Richard the Lionheart was known for his determination - his stubbornness - in the face of adversity.
Djaq smiled when Carter struggled to show that same boyish grin she'd seen back in Sherwood. "Spoilsport," he muttered, his face softening for one fleeting moment before the pain cut the sparkle from his fiery blue eyes.
"Stop being the warrior for a minute," Djaq chastised him gently. "Just rest 'til the others get here."
"Must not...disappoint...the king." Carter's breaths grew short.
"King Richard would never be disappointed in you, Carter. You are a hero," she said. "You saved the king. You saved us all. And now you may rest." Djaq took his hand into hers and felt him relax at her touch.
Carter stared past Djaq, his eyes glazed. "Thomas?"
"A hero, like you," Djaq smiled. Like Marian, she thought as a tear suddenly spilled down her cheek. "He is resting, too. Waiting for you."
"I will... rest." Carter took one last breath and slipped away.
Djaq brought his hand to her quivering lips and brushed it with a gentle kiss. "Salaam, my friend," she said softly.
The alleyway grew darker as the sun dipped lower in the west. Djaq could not bring herself to leave Carter alone even in death. She did not turn, did not move, when voices and the sounds of someone running toward her broke the deafening silence.
Author: robinfanatic
Characters: Djaq, Carter
Rating: PG-13
Genre: angst
Words: 524
Disclaimer: BBC & TA own; I just want to play in their universe
Notes: written for rh_intercomm; takes place during 2x13; beta'd by darkentwisted & wastingyourgum; and look! My 6th comm represented at Intercomm!
Great occasions do not make heroes or cowards; they simply unveil them to the eyes of men. --Brooke Foss Westcott
Summary: Djaq offers comfort to Carter in his final moments on this earth...
Speak Thee of Heroes
by robinfanatic
Djaq heard the barely perceptible moan coming from the shadows ahead. She moved silently through the narrow alleyway, fearful that an enemy soldier might be hidden in one of the darkened alcoves. A white tunic emblazoned with more than just the red of the Templar cross caught her eye - blood soaked the garment, spilling onto the sand.
"Carter!" she exclaimed. She laid her sword aside and moved to her knees beside the soldier.
Carter heard her call his name and opened his pain-filled eyes. "The king?" he asked through rasping breaths.
"He is fine," Djaq replied.
Carter nodded, his hand drifting toward the gash across his belly. "Thought...I knew where...he was," he panted, sweat beading on his brow. "Guess I was...wrong."
Djaq ran her hand across his forehead. It was deadly quiet though the others were combing the village. She didn't want to risk shouting for help. It would do no good to call for them anyway. They'd find her soon enough, though perhaps not soon enough to say goodbye to Carter. The wound was bad - so much blood pooled around his body - but she pulled his tunic aside to inspect it. For all her battle experience, she had to force herself not to turn away when she saw the slash that stretched across and deeply into his stomach. She pressed the tunic back down to slow the flow of blood but knew his life was in Allah's hands.
"The Sheriff?"
"Got away."
Carter closed his eyes against the pain. "Help me up," he grimaced through clenched teeth.
"Lay there!" Djaq ordered. "Do you get this from your king?" she added, her tone softer
Carter knew exactly what she meant. Richard the Lionheart was known for his determination - his stubbornness - in the face of adversity.
Djaq smiled when Carter struggled to show that same boyish grin she'd seen back in Sherwood. "Spoilsport," he muttered, his face softening for one fleeting moment before the pain cut the sparkle from his fiery blue eyes.
"Stop being the warrior for a minute," Djaq chastised him gently. "Just rest 'til the others get here."
"Must not...disappoint...the king." Carter's breaths grew short.
"King Richard would never be disappointed in you, Carter. You are a hero," she said. "You saved the king. You saved us all. And now you may rest." Djaq took his hand into hers and felt him relax at her touch.
Carter stared past Djaq, his eyes glazed. "Thomas?"
"A hero, like you," Djaq smiled. Like Marian, she thought as a tear suddenly spilled down her cheek. "He is resting, too. Waiting for you."
"I will... rest." Carter took one last breath and slipped away.
Djaq brought his hand to her quivering lips and brushed it with a gentle kiss. "Salaam, my friend," she said softly.
The alleyway grew darker as the sun dipped lower in the west. Djaq could not bring herself to leave Carter alone even in death. She did not turn, did not move, when voices and the sounds of someone running toward her broke the deafening silence.