~*~
Warrior's Hope
By Sierra Skymist
~*~
Disclaimer: None of the characters nor the situation belong to me, Jacques owns them.
Notes: From Mattimeo. Mattimeo's thoughts one dark night.
I must be strong.
I must be patient.
I must be hopeful.
I am none of these things. But I must be all of these things, and more- for the sake of Tess. For the sake of Jube, Cythia, Tim, Sam, all the others. Not because I'm the oldest: Sam is. Because I am the son of Matthias, the son of a warrior.
The son of a warrior. A warrior: somebeast to look up to, somebeast to depend on, somebeast to protect, defend, fight if need be. Everyone looks to me, just because I'm a warrior's son. *The* warrior's son, the son of the mouse chosen by Martin himself to carry his legendary blade. Auma's father is a warrior, Sam's mother is a warrior. But it must be me. I cannot give the role to anyone else, nor will anyone else take it willingly. I must be the leader, the strong one.
Was anything too much for my father to handle? My brave father, confident, strong, respected. I had never realised how important he really was, he still is. So far away, unlikely to be able to rescue us, but close to my heart. I doubt it.
What about Martin? Had he ever given up hope, wished for a swift death rather than face a worser path? For surely some things could be far worser than going to darkgates to dwell with your ancestors. Had anyone ever come to rescue him, at the last moment?
Maybe so.
That will not happen, I am almost certain now. We will either die slaves or be killed trying to escape. There is no alternative. Tess is still hopeful, or pretends to be. Jube- if he ever lost his hope, we all might as well kill ourselves. As long as there is some hope- we will survive. I don't know about the others. I don't know anything.
But I am expected to.
I am the leader. As long as I'm the leader, I cannot drop the mask I am holding up. I must keep up the hopeful look, I cannot give in to despair, no matter we may never be rescued. No matter how many tears I shed at night, I must smile by day, encourage everyone, to keep their hope going.
I am young. I do not feel young, I feel so old I could lie down and die, if these damned chains would ever come off. I wonder if one day I will not be able to feel anything at all.
Maybe tomorrow will bring a sign. Maybe the sun will spark a new seed of hope within me. Anything, anything that shows we are being followed, any chance of escape, no matter how small, anything. Then I would hope.
Warrior's Hope
By Sierra Skymist
~*~
Disclaimer: None of the characters nor the situation belong to me, Jacques owns them.
Notes: From Mattimeo. Mattimeo's thoughts one dark night.
I must be strong.
I must be patient.
I must be hopeful.
I am none of these things. But I must be all of these things, and more- for the sake of Tess. For the sake of Jube, Cythia, Tim, Sam, all the others. Not because I'm the oldest: Sam is. Because I am the son of Matthias, the son of a warrior.
The son of a warrior. A warrior: somebeast to look up to, somebeast to depend on, somebeast to protect, defend, fight if need be. Everyone looks to me, just because I'm a warrior's son. *The* warrior's son, the son of the mouse chosen by Martin himself to carry his legendary blade. Auma's father is a warrior, Sam's mother is a warrior. But it must be me. I cannot give the role to anyone else, nor will anyone else take it willingly. I must be the leader, the strong one.
Was anything too much for my father to handle? My brave father, confident, strong, respected. I had never realised how important he really was, he still is. So far away, unlikely to be able to rescue us, but close to my heart. I doubt it.
What about Martin? Had he ever given up hope, wished for a swift death rather than face a worser path? For surely some things could be far worser than going to darkgates to dwell with your ancestors. Had anyone ever come to rescue him, at the last moment?
Maybe so.
That will not happen, I am almost certain now. We will either die slaves or be killed trying to escape. There is no alternative. Tess is still hopeful, or pretends to be. Jube- if he ever lost his hope, we all might as well kill ourselves. As long as there is some hope- we will survive. I don't know about the others. I don't know anything.
But I am expected to.
I am the leader. As long as I'm the leader, I cannot drop the mask I am holding up. I must keep up the hopeful look, I cannot give in to despair, no matter we may never be rescued. No matter how many tears I shed at night, I must smile by day, encourage everyone, to keep their hope going.
I am young. I do not feel young, I feel so old I could lie down and die, if these damned chains would ever come off. I wonder if one day I will not be able to feel anything at all.
Maybe tomorrow will bring a sign. Maybe the sun will spark a new seed of hope within me. Anything, anything that shows we are being followed, any chance of escape, no matter how small, anything. Then I would hope.