Heyo everybody! I'm back, with another JatD oneshot this time; it took me awhile to get inspiration… :D
Okay, this oneshot is post-show, in the minute or so before the commencement of Jane's first battle. I'm not quite sure how she got to command the soldiers, but I suppose it'll just be left up to the reader to decide. ^_^ Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Jane and the Dragon, someone else does…
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It is a strange feeling for her, new and unnerving.
To be on the verge of what might be the most exciting thing in her life since she befriended Dragon. To be standing, solemn and unsure, atop a hill now dusty and brown with the broken stems of the dead grass; the sky, gray and cold and foreign, stretching endlessly into the unknown, closed against her for the first time in her life. Everything icy and foreign and lost to her as she waits for the sign that could be the beginning of the end.
She closes her eyes against the wind, rocking slightly on her heels as the men crowd up behind her, all beer and swords and gruff obedience. They have formed into their ranks now, and stand silent and still in anticipation of that one, final command. Oh, how they hate to be kept waiting.
Those eyes reopen, green pools scanning the valley she does not want to overrun. It was her play area once, back when she was but a little girl and knew nothing of what was to come, just that that valley held pretty yellow flowers to make crowns out of. But it has long since lost its hue; the winter has snatched the bright greens and yellows away and left grays and browns to hold their places until spring. The remaining dry stalks swirl in the resentful wind, roughly entangling themselves in the loose mane of red hair she refuses to pin away from her face as it whips about her ears.
Her head drops for a millisecond, eyes searching the frosty earth beneath her boots for some sign that everything will turn out all right. That this battle will never arrive, and she can rush down into that valley, soon destined to become a blood-spattered reminder, and sit in the grass and laugh at the world like she once was able to do without thinking. It is a silly hope to her, foolish and unachievable, and a bitter smile flits across her pale face, hidden by the curtain of fire she calls hair.
Suddenly she straightens, and with a deep sigh lifts the beloved helmet above her head. It glitters in the brief ray of watery sunlight, the scales ringing its faceplate shining for a fraction of a second as she holds it high. The men straighten, aware that something might happen now, and a small scuffle begins as they reach for their weapons. She can hear them behind her, alert in their ranks and suddenly on edge as she finally lowers the helmet onto her scarlet tresses and allows the icy metal to seep into her skin; they know that the wait is over, and so does she.
A long, gloved hand rises from her immobile form, the slender fingers pressed against one another tightly and confidently; there is no wobble in the movement as she opens her mouth to draw breath.
The battle must commence –she knows that. Her duty is to defend her home –she knows that, too. The blood should not be shed –she knows that better than anyone standing nervously in the ranks behind her.
Knights cannot be weak.
In a single jerky motion, as though her hand is fighting her body, she lowers her outstretched arm beckoningly. The men roar, and as one their swords sweep forth from their sheaths, the deadly blades glinting in the practically nonexistent light. The wait is over.
She wets her winter-cracked lips, draws that fateful breath, and shouts above the din in a voice strong and piercingly deceptive:
"Charge!"
-x-x-x-x-Well, I hope you liked it, and thanks for reading! So please, PLEASE review; I'd be so very thankful. :) I have some more cookies, so maybe that will help tempt you..? Anyways, thankies again!