FIC: Loyalty [Legend of the Seeker]
Title: Loyalty
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Disclaimer: Purely a piece of fanwork for fun, not profit.
Rating: PG
Summary: "He was but a mere First Lieutenant when his true Lord Rahl was born."
Notes: Written for Round #9 of Last Author Standing. Prompt was to write something that highlighted a relationship between two male characters. Placed 1st.
He was but a mere First Lieutenant when his true Lord Rahl was born. Joy filled his heart, as it did for all the citizens of D'Hara. There was finally an heir to the throne, a future filled with Rahl leadership and wisdom. Those early years were easily some of the best. Celebratory feasts were thrown for every first of young Master Darken's life. From the top commanders down to the lowliest of sentries, all knew and rejoiced when little Lord Rahl took his first step and spoke his first word. The Palace was filled with cheer, and every soldier -- including himself -- dreaded the day when duty rotation called them away.
But those bright days darkened as little Master Darken grew into young Master Darken. By then, he was a Captain of the sentries, low on the scale of hierarchy but privy to all gossip. He learned of the prophecy, that young Lord Rahl would turn to darkness and rule in tyranny. He learned of Lord Panis Rahl's growing disapproval of his only son. Soon, he was witnessing for himself the way Lord Rahl would spurn his child, speak of him as a monstrosity, declare to his own son's face how he wished he'd never been born.
The irony of Lord Panis Rahl rejecting his son for potential tyranny was thick enough that it should choke every man in D'Hara. After all, D'Hara was united only through Panis Rahl's ruthless cunning and overpowering force. To condemn his child for deeds not yet committed was deplorable. When he saw the hurt in his young Lord's face, the yearning for his father's affection and love, he longed for the ability to ease that pain away, to lay a much needed paternal hand on his shoulder.
He was but a mere Captain though. It was not his place. It would never be.
When Panis Rahl died, he was a Commander and he swore his allegiance to the new Lord Rahl, but his loyalty had long since been Darken Rahl's to command. Those who declare Darken Rahl a tyrant could not comprehend the burden of rule and the torment Lord Rahl had endured. He understood in a way that few others could: his Lord sought peace for the three territories so that he could perhaps find peace within himself. Though Panis Rahl was dead, his shadow remained. His silence thundered through the People's Palace walls.
By Lord Rahl's grace, he advanced from Commander to General, becoming the most trusted right hand of his Eminence, privy now to the well-guarded secrets of his Lord. But he was still a subordinate. His place would always be to serve. Though his Lord had grown into magnificence, he remembered the days of a lonely young man haunted by the loss of his mother, the cruelty of his father, and the promise of a brother who would slay him.
His loyalty was no salve to those old wounds, but he would stay true to his last breath.
*
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Disclaimer: Purely a piece of fanwork for fun, not profit.
Rating: PG
Summary: "He was but a mere First Lieutenant when his true Lord Rahl was born."
Notes: Written for Round #9 of Last Author Standing. Prompt was to write something that highlighted a relationship between two male characters. Placed 1st.
He was but a mere First Lieutenant when his true Lord Rahl was born. Joy filled his heart, as it did for all the citizens of D'Hara. There was finally an heir to the throne, a future filled with Rahl leadership and wisdom. Those early years were easily some of the best. Celebratory feasts were thrown for every first of young Master Darken's life. From the top commanders down to the lowliest of sentries, all knew and rejoiced when little Lord Rahl took his first step and spoke his first word. The Palace was filled with cheer, and every soldier -- including himself -- dreaded the day when duty rotation called them away.
But those bright days darkened as little Master Darken grew into young Master Darken. By then, he was a Captain of the sentries, low on the scale of hierarchy but privy to all gossip. He learned of the prophecy, that young Lord Rahl would turn to darkness and rule in tyranny. He learned of Lord Panis Rahl's growing disapproval of his only son. Soon, he was witnessing for himself the way Lord Rahl would spurn his child, speak of him as a monstrosity, declare to his own son's face how he wished he'd never been born.
The irony of Lord Panis Rahl rejecting his son for potential tyranny was thick enough that it should choke every man in D'Hara. After all, D'Hara was united only through Panis Rahl's ruthless cunning and overpowering force. To condemn his child for deeds not yet committed was deplorable. When he saw the hurt in his young Lord's face, the yearning for his father's affection and love, he longed for the ability to ease that pain away, to lay a much needed paternal hand on his shoulder.
He was but a mere Captain though. It was not his place. It would never be.
When Panis Rahl died, he was a Commander and he swore his allegiance to the new Lord Rahl, but his loyalty had long since been Darken Rahl's to command. Those who declare Darken Rahl a tyrant could not comprehend the burden of rule and the torment Lord Rahl had endured. He understood in a way that few others could: his Lord sought peace for the three territories so that he could perhaps find peace within himself. Though Panis Rahl was dead, his shadow remained. His silence thundered through the People's Palace walls.
By Lord Rahl's grace, he advanced from Commander to General, becoming the most trusted right hand of his Eminence, privy now to the well-guarded secrets of his Lord. But he was still a subordinate. His place would always be to serve. Though his Lord had grown into magnificence, he remembered the days of a lonely young man haunted by the loss of his mother, the cruelty of his father, and the promise of a brother who would slay him.
His loyalty was no salve to those old wounds, but he would stay true to his last breath.
*