* I don't own Jane and the Dragon or its characters
To the wonderful reviews I found this morning, I dedicate this fic as thanks to Amelle Kyre. Thank you
On the single, dusty road which led toward town, stood the well dressed figure, his brow furrowed in frustration. Soon the night would come, and he would have no choice. He had to choose, life itself curving around the consequence of his choices.
The sky stained and distorted shadows, creating silent companions to trace his saddened stance. It would only take a short walk, to move away in the opposite direction, to that place where left over mutton and fine wine would be waiting as well as a drunken father. Yet, to that place he would be the unchosen, the unchanged, and the unwelcomed in his legacy.
Behind him stood the castle, with all its indifference; it was the security he never dreamed would accept him. If he stayed, or went back inside those stone walls, he would be only Gunther, not the boy, or son, but the person with biting eyes which everyone thought of as just Gunther. If he hid, perhaps a few nights in the store room would he be missed? Would it be bearable? Would they miss him?
The wind spoke to the trees, their song trying his patience. The violets of the evening sky meant he was losing time, and parting would not be such trouble if he belonged somewhere.
Perhaps he could belong, like he did when the morning was being born, and red haired confidence illuminated the day. They suited each other well enough, even if the only peace could be found in between words of insult, followed by the burn of determination. He could belong there, where they were caught up in frustration and madness at the clashing of swords and personalities while he held secret intentions. Perhaps he could belong with her if she would allow him.
The night was approaching, and to that place he must return, and he would bear it, for the day would come when he would prove his destiny, and prove to everyone he could be greater then that road once remembered.