This one-shot was written a while ago for a challenge, If you'd like to try your hand at the challenge the specifications are below.
Character/s: any, I chose Gunther and Pig:
Words: stubble, gravel rash, tongs, befuddled, pink
Prompt: "Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness." – by Maya Angelou
Size: optional
The Action is set following the episode, "For crying out loud" and there is a bit of foreshadowing to my story "Dawn of the Black Dragon". Though that is AU and this is close to cannon. Hope you enjoy it.
"Left Behind"
It was a clear cool night Pig lay before the forge watching the embers dull pink glow fade to ash. Normally she would have been asleep long before now…the whole castle was asleep, it was as if she could feel the stones slumbering beneath a blanket of gravel. She sighed.
It was a lonely night, the forge felt empty without Jethro's snores. Her dear Jet worked hard in the castle Smithy but sometimes his duty took him from the castle to the mines to buy more iron to feed the forge; and so it was she was alone.
Days before she had hoped it would be otherwise. The merchant had brought a fine tusker boar to the castle. He had handsome stubbly face and bright eyes. For two days she hoped he would be permitted to stay with her in the castle. She entreated him to behave but he was so befuddled at being trapped in such a small crate he refused to see reason and struck out at any who came near him. Finally the knights were forced to take him back to the woods.
She sighed again and rolled over. She may have dozed for a bit but a slight rustle brought her to full consciousness again. Her keen ears perked up at the sound of stealthy movements in the courtyard; She was on her feet in an instant and snorted a warning to the intruder.
Though Jet was considerate enough to keep her tusks filed down if angered she could prove just as formidable as that boar had been; her temper had gotten her in trouble with the prince last time. Perhaps she ought to squeal a warning and wake Pepper or Rake instead. She took a deep breath but a quiet voice bid her quite.
"Please pig…its j-just me." Gunther added slipping into the forge. The young squire was grimy head to foot excepting for twin tracks running down his cheeks that looked suspiciously like they had been made by tears.
She sniffed him gently; Blood and mud-Poor boy. She fetched him a clean cloth and he took it thankfully, dipping it in the water troth Smithy used to quench the iron, and cleaned himself a bit. It was clear both his forearms had bad gravel rash and his hands were cut badly. "I got caught in a pit trap." He admitted quietly.
She used her large head to nudge the young squire toward the work bench. He had used healing salve before and knew the ornate box was beside the rack that held Smithy's iron tongs. Still the boy was reluctant to take the hint. "You are sure he won't mind?" Gunther asked careful not to take so much that the loss would be noticeable. He settled down on a pile of hay and stubble to apply the aromatic cream soothing his hurts away.
Pig pressed her sensitive nose against boy encouragingly and he caressed her pink ears. Idly he began to hum. They had strange relationship, Gunther wasn't particularly good with other humans…or horses…or dragon. But Pig prided herself on being a particularly good listener and the merchant's son was desperate to share what was in his heart.
She regarded him intently with deep caring eyes, free of judgment…free of censure. She knew it was only a matter of time before he unburdened his heart and for this taciturn apprentice knight-- when he was sure none of the others in the castle could over hear-- he loosed his tongue in song.
You know the wily old tusker brave and bold
His eyes of fire turn a knight's heart cold
A danger he was with in these walls
Not a peaceful beast for civilized halls
The Great boar king in the wilds reigns
Fens and fastness are his royal domain
Knights venture in with greatest care
only the skilled can approach his lair
The earth I opened it swallowed me whole
Slid I helpless lost beneath the mould
My arms sore and back bent from the toil
I labored in vein to claw my way from the soil
I yelled and fought to escape my lot
Gunther took a deep breath and in a voice scarce louder than a breath he said "the other knights left, while me they forgot."
Pig wished she had arms to hug the boy…even so she brushed his cheek with her snout. That tusker would have killed him…she knew that full well. And the other knights would have killed the boar. It was the way with her wild kin—and with his—there was no help for it. But to be left alone in the woods by those he admired most in the world…that was surely the fiercest wound.
Gunther curled his arms around her neck and snuffled into her shoulder. Her presence was enough to ease his loneliness. Before long he was humming again, taking refuge between the notes and soon sleep claimed him.
As it turned out, Pig did not have to spend the night alone after all.
