Fill: Fever Dreams 1/4
anonymous
March 17 2011, 01:10:03 UTC
The last thing that Marcus felt before the surgeon's knives finally plunged him beyond consciousness was the weight of Esca's hands leaning down hard on his shoulders; the last thing that he saw was Esca's blue eyes, hooded as ever, and pressed so close to his own with the effort of keeping him still that all the rest of Esca's face was a meaningless blur. Marcus clenched his teeth together so hard that they were in danger of breaking off at the gums so that he would not shout, but then he fell into darkness and could not longer say what he did
( ... )
Fill: Fever Dreams 2/4
anonymous
March 17 2011, 01:11:36 UTC
Before leaving for the final campaign, his father had brought him home a puppy. "To help you become a man," he had said, tapping Marcus solemnly on the tip of his nose while his mother had worked on the weaving that they were wealthy enough to pass on to slaves, if that would not appear ostentatious and wasteful, and raised her eyebrows silently. Because to be a man was to wield power over others, and to wield power required discipline, steadiness of character. With Marcus's father gone on campaign, Marcus would be the only male in the house, "and we can't leave your education solely to the hands of your mother, can we?" His mother had set down her weaving and cleared her throat in a very pointed way. Though the rest of his father's face remained composed, there had been a twinkle in his eyes as he had looked back at her, a moment of silent communication before she went back to her work with a softened mouth. Marcus had stared down at the puppy, which was one of the rangy, half-wild breeds favored by those British tribes who had
( ... )
Fill: Fever Dreams 3/4
anonymous
March 17 2011, 01:12:54 UTC
The concoction poured down his throat that night tasted even thicker and more bitter, but the hand guiding his head didn't try to call him its son or pretend to be anything more than what it was. Maybe that was why Marcus gripped after it so hard, until a second hand was required before he loosened his hold
( ... )
Fill: Fever Dreams 4/4
anonymous
March 17 2011, 01:13:58 UTC
The eagle was new when his father gave it to him just before riding away; by the time that three years had passed and the neighbor was no longer just so and felt no need to hide how much he disapproved of Marcus's every word and deed, it was dark. Marcus had put an oily sheen on it by turning it over and over again between his fingers, staring towards the north. It was on its third cord about his neck. By the time that he made his first channel crossing, it was on its twelfth, and even that was badly beginning to fray. He wore it beneath his breastplate as he went to fight the Britons led by their mad Druid, and he wondered if his father had felt this way in his last moments. If he had regretted the deaths of the men who had followed him the way that Marcus regretted the deaths of the men of the patrol, if he had thought of their families afterwards. If he had had the time to worry over such things; the alternatives were a coward's flight or capture, and a slow death either way. In the arc of his arm throwing the spear, though
( ... )
Re: Fill: Fever Dreams 4/4
anonymous
March 18 2011, 02:25:12 UTC
I thought I would like Esca better (cranky characters do it for me so, so hard), but Marcus' total, unyielding goodness got under my skin harder than I expected it to. Thank you so much for reading!
Re: Fill: Fever Dreams 4/4
anonymous
March 18 2011, 02:26:41 UTC
Thank you very much! I was certain that Esca was going to be my guy, but Marcus's total honor and refusal to believe in a world where that didn't matter seriously got to me.
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I really like this, anon!
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