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rose_in_winterCharacters: Garland/Princess Sarah
Rating: G
Contains: Spoilers
Wordcount: 646
Notes: Written for the 2013 FF Kiss Battle.
Betas: None
Summary: Sarah wakes from a nightmare; Garland comforts her.
Sarah awakens with a start, her heart pounding as though the nightmare yet chases her. She pushes her hair out of her face with shaking hands, and tries to discipline herself into proper deep breaths. When that doesn't work, she gets out of bed, still wobbly, and staggers over to the bowl and pitcher on the dresser to splash water on her face. She doesn't remember all of the nightmare, but it is enough to make her blood run cold: Garland a traitor, the Crystals fallen, the world in desperate danger.
Her maid is nowhere to be seen, and that causes a small catch of fear in Sara's heart; perhaps the nightmare is real and she has not yet realized it. She scrubs her face more thoroughly, and dresses quickly. When she hurries out of her room, the guards bow. One is Garland. She tries to contain her flinch at what she remembers from the nightmare.
"Princess, are you well?" he asks, and she has always loved his voice, deep and patient. Part of the reason the nightmare horrified her so was that she trusts Garland, with her life and more, and she cannot think of his betrayal without wanting to weep.
"I--did not sleep well." She makes the excuse too quickly, even though it is true, and he bows to her.
"Perhaps a walk in the garden?" he suggests.
She dreamt of her garden, dead and crumbling. Perhaps seeing it alive and well will chase the nightmare away. She nods assent, and Garland offers his arm. The only sound as they make their way through the castle--Sarah realizes belatedly it is barely past dawn, small wonder her maid was not there--is that of his armor clinking as they walk, and the knights behind him who make up the rest of her honour guard.
"I would walk with Sir Garland," she tells the other knights, and they take up their stance at the gates of her garden, where they are always within earshot, but true to her wishes, they turn their gazes outward.
The first light of day is soft and blurry in the morning mist; her garden smells of earth and green things and the first flowers of spring. Sarah bends to smell a hyacinth, and its sweetness rises like a cloud around her. She straightens and steps back, right into the loose paving stone she'd meant to have fixed today, and only Garland's hand on her arm keeps her from falling.
He wears no helm, and she looks up into his earnest face and his concerned gaze. He is by far the most handsome of her father's knights, and he has always been kind to her.
"Princess--"
It is against the rules, and she knows it, but she does not care. Sarah stands on tiptoe and kisses him, fleeting and nervous, and then skips back awkwardly, knowing she is blushing.
For a moment there is silence, and she dares not look right at him. Armor creaks, and she sees him kneeling in front of her. He looks up at her expectantly, and she holds out her right hand. He grasps it in his, gauntlets cold against her skin, and speaks an oath as old as Corneria, if not older. "My shield guards thee. My sword defends thee. My life is thine; I would spill my blood for thee. I swear to thee my undying loyalty, now and forever."
The last time this oath was sworn was to her thrice-great grandmother, who later wed that knight and ruled with him. Sarah feels light-headed. She closes her hand around his. "As thou to me, I to thee; thou art my champion," she says through a throat suddenly tight and dry, completing the oath.
He kisses her hand, and Sarah feels the last of the nightmare evaporate like the morning mist.
Rating: G
Contains: Spoilers
Wordcount: 646
Notes: Written for the 2013 FF Kiss Battle.
Betas: None
Summary: Sarah wakes from a nightmare; Garland comforts her.
Sarah awakens with a start, her heart pounding as though the nightmare yet chases her. She pushes her hair out of her face with shaking hands, and tries to discipline herself into proper deep breaths. When that doesn't work, she gets out of bed, still wobbly, and staggers over to the bowl and pitcher on the dresser to splash water on her face. She doesn't remember all of the nightmare, but it is enough to make her blood run cold: Garland a traitor, the Crystals fallen, the world in desperate danger.
Her maid is nowhere to be seen, and that causes a small catch of fear in Sara's heart; perhaps the nightmare is real and she has not yet realized it. She scrubs her face more thoroughly, and dresses quickly. When she hurries out of her room, the guards bow. One is Garland. She tries to contain her flinch at what she remembers from the nightmare.
"Princess, are you well?" he asks, and she has always loved his voice, deep and patient. Part of the reason the nightmare horrified her so was that she trusts Garland, with her life and more, and she cannot think of his betrayal without wanting to weep.
"I--did not sleep well." She makes the excuse too quickly, even though it is true, and he bows to her.
"Perhaps a walk in the garden?" he suggests.
She dreamt of her garden, dead and crumbling. Perhaps seeing it alive and well will chase the nightmare away. She nods assent, and Garland offers his arm. The only sound as they make their way through the castle--Sarah realizes belatedly it is barely past dawn, small wonder her maid was not there--is that of his armor clinking as they walk, and the knights behind him who make up the rest of her honour guard.
"I would walk with Sir Garland," she tells the other knights, and they take up their stance at the gates of her garden, where they are always within earshot, but true to her wishes, they turn their gazes outward.
The first light of day is soft and blurry in the morning mist; her garden smells of earth and green things and the first flowers of spring. Sarah bends to smell a hyacinth, and its sweetness rises like a cloud around her. She straightens and steps back, right into the loose paving stone she'd meant to have fixed today, and only Garland's hand on her arm keeps her from falling.
He wears no helm, and she looks up into his earnest face and his concerned gaze. He is by far the most handsome of her father's knights, and he has always been kind to her.
"Princess--"
It is against the rules, and she knows it, but she does not care. Sarah stands on tiptoe and kisses him, fleeting and nervous, and then skips back awkwardly, knowing she is blushing.
For a moment there is silence, and she dares not look right at him. Armor creaks, and she sees him kneeling in front of her. He looks up at her expectantly, and she holds out her right hand. He grasps it in his, gauntlets cold against her skin, and speaks an oath as old as Corneria, if not older. "My shield guards thee. My sword defends thee. My life is thine; I would spill my blood for thee. I swear to thee my undying loyalty, now and forever."
The last time this oath was sworn was to her thrice-great grandmother, who later wed that knight and ruled with him. Sarah feels light-headed. She closes her hand around his. "As thou to me, I to thee; thou art my champion," she says through a throat suddenly tight and dry, completing the oath.
He kisses her hand, and Sarah feels the last of the nightmare evaporate like the morning mist.