Episode: The Dragon's Call
Category: Gen
Rating/Warnings: K+
"How about three? Right, three of those nice juicy apples."
The young woman quietly placed the fruit in a sack and held it out to the man, avoiding his eyes in the hope that he wouldn't turn out to be one of those customers who liked to linger and chat after making their purchase. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy socializing – she would've welcomed the company on any other day, a pleasant respite to break up the monotonous hours spent selling produce while dreaming of a more exciting life.
But today was different. Today was an execution day.
"Quite a show earlier, wasn't it?" the man remarked in a cheerful voice.
Common butchery is more like it, she thought bitterly, even as she nodded with a wan smile.
Oblivious to her lack of enthusiasm, he cast a long look at the bloodstained platform in the distance. "Least this one went to his death with dignity, no crying or blubbering like some of the others. Didn't even soil his britches!"
Go away, her mind pleaded in silent distress. Please, just go away.
Instead, the man stayed right where he was, reliving every gory detail of the beheading of Tom Collins as if it had been some sumptuous feast he'd been privileged enough to enjoy. And even though she tried to play along as she always did, fighting her grief and revulsion so she might appear as unaffected as any other citizen of Camelot, she couldn't help but flinch as she remembered another man who'd met the same miserable fate only two weeks before.
He hadn't cried out either. No, he'd been brave and strong, refusing to cower in the face of tyranny even as they'd shoved his head on the block and brought the axe down amidst the heartless jeering of the gathered crowd. He'd been the one she hadn't been able to avert her eyes from, the terrible severing of bone and breath and blood that had brought a brutal end to a lifetime spent turning away or hiding indoors, anything to avoid the horrifying realities that were happening around her.
But now she knew the truth. It was too late... refusing to watch wouldn't shelter her anymore.
Jostled by her sudden movement, a single apple fell from its overflowing basket and hit the ground with a sickening thud, rolling through the dirt just like...
The woman fell to her knees, no longer caring whether the world bore witness to her grief or what the consequences of her actions might be. If it was treason to feel, to love, to grieve for each and every life that was cruelly snatched away in this deplorable war on magic, then so be it.
"You all right?"
The man visibly cringed as she raised her head to look up at him with a world of anguish in her eyes – felt on behalf of those she didn't know and didn't need to know in order to experience their suffering as deeply as her own.
"Get away from my cart," she snarled. "And take your apples with you."
