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Nękos' voice began to ice over. "From the very beginning, you resisted my lessons. You refused to do as you were told. You always refused to carry a weapon on you, or submit to a guard detail. For the times when ill did befall you, then I apologize, your majesty, for having other matters in my world beside you and you alone. There have been very, very few occasions on which I have actually spoken ill of you, a fact I consider surprising when one thinks of the amount of gratitude I have been shown for the number of times I have saved you, directly or indirectly."
And right there in the very middle of the song, the Swordsman let her go, stepped back, and bowed.
"Good evening, your majesty." The nearest door was the rear one he had brought Meekal in through, and he made use of it. It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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"Oh, no you don't!"
Moon hiked up her skirts & chased him down. "Stop right there, sir." Nękos, his back to her, did so. And turned slowly, giving her a glare. "You aren't leaving just yet. I'm not done." She softened, & tilted her head. "Nękos, I am sorry. I was joking with you. I meant nothing negative in my chiding you. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I thought we were having fun together." Her voice, & eyes, dropped. "It certainly looked like you were having fun. You laughed & everything. I hardly knew you could laugh." She looked at him, & attempted to smile. "Now please, come back & finish this dance. Then you can be free." "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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He nodded slowly, took the hand she held out, and moved back onto the floor, resuming the dance. Only then did he speak. "I can practically tell you what your next sentence will be, Moon. And yet, through the same time, you do not even know enough to guess what I will not think funny." It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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"Nękos?" Moon said, her voice low.
"Yes?"
She smiled. "Shut up & dance." "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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His hand tightened involuntarily on hers. "I definitely hope that is your idea of humor. You still seem to fail to understand the concept of showing gratitude. And you definitely fail to understand the concept of what an apology is." It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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Moon took a deep breath. "I truly am sorry, Nękos. I did not mean to hurt you, anger you...or whatever I did." She looked into his eyes, then looked quickly away. Swallowing every ounce of pride she had left, she said, "I care about you too. You've been like a brother to me." "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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He wasn't quite sure what happened, but the Swordsman felt his hand move across her back, holding her a bit closer.
"It's alright...that's all I needed to hear..." It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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"Good," she said, swallowing her tears. "Because that's all I wanted to say." She rested her head on his shoulder & smiled. After a moment, she quietly added, "I think you'll make a fine uncle someday soon. That is, if you don't mind...& maybe someday, you can complete my training. Both of our trainings..."
Last edited by Moonitic; 03-04-2004 at 05:48 PM.
"Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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Rosaline had graciously, though shocked accepted Talmour's offer to dance. They had made small talk for half of the dance, both not entirely sure what to talk about.
"Those two seem to fight a lot." Talmour spoke up, nodding towards Moon and Nękos.
"Aye, they do. Almost as much as Nękos and myself." She smirked.
Talmour laughed. "I've never heard you say that before."
"Well it's true, it seems a decent conversation is beyond us." Rosaline replied. She was quite annoyed that he can dance with Moon, but not her. Sure, as the bride and best-man it was expected, but he could have done it a little more tastefully.
"No no, I mean I've never heard you say 'aye' before." He smiled.
"I said aye?" Rosaline asked. Talmour nodded.
"Where are you from" He asked.
"Well I was born here in Arconia. However my family came here from living over the sea, with the Irish. My parents would always say things like that, and it rubbed off on me. I guess it never left." She reminiced.
"Things like that seem to always stay with you." Talmour replied.
Rosaline nodded, and decided to go for a change of subject.
"What about you Mister Gideon? Have you traveled from place to place all your life? Or is there somewhere you cal home?" "Wars may be fought with weapons, but they are won by men. It is the spirit of men who follow and of the man who leads that gains the victory." - George S. Patton
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 Originally Posted by Moonitic "Good," she said, swallowing her tears. "Because that's all I wanted to say." She rested her head on his shoulder & smiled. After a moment, she quietly added, "I think you'll make a fine uncle someday soon. That is, if you don't mind...& maybe someday, you can complete my training. Both of our trainings..." "I will be glad to. Unfortunately, I think that day when you will need the training will be coming far too soon..." It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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"Then I suppose I will have to be ready to receive it, won't I?" Her head briefly left his shoulder, & she met his gaze. "This time, I will be ready." Moon ducked her head again, the tears threatening again. "How will I bring a child into this world now? And on the run? I'd die if something happened to one of us...or Meekal..." She looked over at her new husband, who laughed & twirled Tębryn. He looked so happy. "He is a good man," she said. "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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"He is a good man," the Swordsman quietly confirmed. "And he will take care of you well. Every day he expands, he grows. Becomes more. And it's because of you." It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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"Me?" Moon chuckled softly. "No. This is all his own doing. If anything, I hindered him. Me & my thoughtlessness." She continued to watch Meekal & Tębryn. This time, she twirled him, laughing all the way. He stumbled, obviously dizzy, then laughed as he straightened himself out. "No...he has always been wonderful. It just took me this long to notice it." "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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"You must admit", he insisted, "he was Meekal the Daft before, and the name fit. And now he is not. Must you wonder about the timing?" It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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"No...to be truthful, I have to wonder if he really was daft, or if it was a defense against the forces at work in his life." She tilted her head to the side when she looked at Nękos. "I did not tell you what he did to rescue me from his father the first time, did I?" She shrugged. "All this time, he said it was me who rescued him..." "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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"Don't worry." The grin spoke volumes. "I know what happened. In any case, you are the reason he is the man he is now, not still the boy he was." Switching gears, Nękos paused for a moment, then continued. "You will not be actually on the run with your child. We can probably manage a small settlement far enough into the Wilderlands. There will be fewer amenities, but you will be able to raise a child somewhat away from the violence. Again, Meekal will take care of the two of you. You have seen that already." It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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"If you say so, but I am still reluctant to take any credit for his change," Moon said. Then, she added, "And as far as what will happen in the future is concerned, I will have to believe you on that. So long as I am prepared for what is to come, the better I feel about it. And I have no doubt that Meekal will take care of me...us, or die trying." She stood straight, jaw set & looked Nękos in the eye. "And I am to suppose that I will be called to fight as well?" "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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"Yes, you will have to fight, as we all will. Tębryn will fight with us, and castle servants will fight with us. The three children I brought back with me from Muu the second time, will have to fight with us. Your own child, if old enough before the Russic leave, will fight with us. We will become a nomadic people, and a people of war." A half-smile. "Ironically, the Russ started the very same way."
The song ended, and they stopped dancing, stepping apart a pace or so. "Why does tomorrow have to come, after a night like this?" Moon asked. "I just got married to the first man I really love...and who loves me. I finally stopped being at odds with you. Everybody is here, together, happy. Why does tomorrow have to come?"
"Do not ask why," Nękos replied. "Just accept it, for there is nothing you can do to stop tomorrow from arriving." Meekal and Tębryn were approaching now, having thoroughly enjoyed their dance. "And now, your highness, I think you owe your new husband a dance. Let him take care of you now, but always remember the way to my cottage." He lifted her hand and kissed it, let it gently back down. It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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"What," Moon said laughingly, "so you can drag me inside by the collar?" She winked at him, & in a more soft, serious voice, said, "Thank you. For everything. And I mean that." She gave him a curtsey, then turned toward her husband. As he accepted her into his arms, she said, "You do not know how much I've missed you." "Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind."
-- Rudyard Kipling
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Nękos and Tębryn turned to each other.
Tębryn raised an eyebrow.
The Swordsman reached a foot out, and tapped a booted toe on the floor between himself and the girl.
She responded in kind.
The Swordsman reached the same foot out, repeating the action, then quickly hopped to the other foot and stomped the heel.
She responded in kind.
The Swordsman repeated the sequence twice over.
She responded in kind.
The Swordsman repeated the sequence twice more, and she responded at the same time, along with the third repetition. And when the Swordsman stopped, she added a qiuck sequence of taps, stomps, and a final squeak as she dragged her shoe across the floor.
The Swordsman responded in kind, except that his boot failed to squeak.
The girl smiled scornfully at him, wincing as if it were painful to watch.
The Swordsman looked up - the band remained silent, and people were beginning to turn to watch. He looked back to the girl. She grinned widely.
The pair began the sequence again.
Each time, one would add another set onto the end of the sequence, challenging the other to keep up, keeping it new. The rhythm grew longer, more complex; people surrounding began to clap in time, keeping the beat.
The Swordsman stopped, looked around at them, motioned for them to stop clapping. And then he began stomping in the same time, gesturing around to them. They took up the beat again. The violinist in the band picked up his instrument and drew the bow across it, elicitiing a deep, solid note. And then repeated, in time.
The girl began the sequence again, but adding new parts in at will, switching parts around, accelerating a bit.
The Swordsman looked to her with a raised eyebrow, until she finished. He began, arms moving in time for balance, mixing around the girl's new sequence. She watched until he finished.
Both started again at once, each with their own mix, playing off the other's time, switching gaps.
And suddenly stopped.
The girl curtseyed.
The Swordsman bowed. It is the soldier, not the reporter, who has given us the freedom of the press. It is the soldier, not the poet, who has given us the freedom of speech. It is the soldier, not the campus organizer, who gives us the freedom to demonstrate. It is the soldier who salutes the flag, who serves beneath the flag, and whose coffin is draped by the flag, who allows the protestor to burn the flag. - Father Dennis Edward O'Brien, USMC
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