[Sept 16] [Jim Henson's The Storyteller] I Won't Tell if You Won't
Title: I Won't Tell if You Won't
Day/Theme: 16. don't trust a statistic you didn't fake yourself
Series:Jim Henson's The Storyteller
Character/Pairing: The Storyteller
Rating: PG
The old Hero was blind, but he still managed to glare at the Storyteller. He had survived countless old skirmishes, and his last war had been the only one that anyone else in the room remembered. That was the one that had taken his remaining eye, and that had been over fifty years ago. He had taken up a seat of honor by the fire, across the hearth from the Storyteller.
The trouble had begun over the story of the Soldier and Death. The Hero objected to the Storyteller’s description of death as a childlike creature with ancient eyes that stole quietly into rooms. The Storyteller’s tale was interrupted and the Hero’s had taken over, a bloody, hopeless story with no heroes. No one got through by cleverness or luck, or outside help. The Hero’s Death was a net, spread over every field. Occasionally, by chance, someone might slip through a hole, but even that was only a temporarily reprieve.
The Storyteller listened with everyone else, smiling and nodding as if he knew this story. Maybe he did. He was the only person in the room close to the Hero’s age, and his only rival for telling war stories. The Hero claimed his stories weren’t fairy tales, the Storyteller didn’t. Usually they were careful not to call each other liars, knowing that that was a dance for two, and that there wouldn‘t be any going back after those lines were drawn.
They had both been there. They had both fought, but in different places. And from their different souls came the different tales. They were the only ones who knew how true their own story was, and were naturally a little careful about how much of the other’s story was. This was the first time that unofficial truce had been broken, but the Storyteller was unruffled. He knew how to find the truth in stories, he was just better at disguising it than some.
Day/Theme: 16. don't trust a statistic you didn't fake yourself
Series:Jim Henson's The Storyteller
Character/Pairing: The Storyteller
Rating: PG
The old Hero was blind, but he still managed to glare at the Storyteller. He had survived countless old skirmishes, and his last war had been the only one that anyone else in the room remembered. That was the one that had taken his remaining eye, and that had been over fifty years ago. He had taken up a seat of honor by the fire, across the hearth from the Storyteller.
The trouble had begun over the story of the Soldier and Death. The Hero objected to the Storyteller’s description of death as a childlike creature with ancient eyes that stole quietly into rooms. The Storyteller’s tale was interrupted and the Hero’s had taken over, a bloody, hopeless story with no heroes. No one got through by cleverness or luck, or outside help. The Hero’s Death was a net, spread over every field. Occasionally, by chance, someone might slip through a hole, but even that was only a temporarily reprieve.
The Storyteller listened with everyone else, smiling and nodding as if he knew this story. Maybe he did. He was the only person in the room close to the Hero’s age, and his only rival for telling war stories. The Hero claimed his stories weren’t fairy tales, the Storyteller didn’t. Usually they were careful not to call each other liars, knowing that that was a dance for two, and that there wouldn‘t be any going back after those lines were drawn.
They had both been there. They had both fought, but in different places. And from their different souls came the different tales. They were the only ones who knew how true their own story was, and were naturally a little careful about how much of the other’s story was. This was the first time that unofficial truce had been broken, but the Storyteller was unruffled. He knew how to find the truth in stories, he was just better at disguising it than some.