Disclaimer:
What I don't own: Tolkien's stuff, Linkin Park songs, Stand By Me,
What I do own: Sarah, Ryan, most of the plot, my dignity (I hope)
A/N: Ladies and gents, welcome to my story. My name is Chrisami, and I'll be your host for this little shindig. My assistant- oh, okay, he's my muse and all my inspiration, is Ian. I hope you enjoy!
Well, here it is. I wanted to keep it pretty short, so here it is. Review! And since this story actually has a prequel of sorts, this is only part 1 of the prologue. I wanna explain the basic premise, for those who don't want to read "A Wizard's Plot". BUT YOU SHOULD ANYWAY!
And then you should review!
Okay, okay, I'm getting on with it.
Prologue: Part 1
It was dark and surprisingly cold within the hard rock walls. It was a large room with a low ceiling, painfully dark, but enough light came in through the slits of windows for every corner to be discerned. The floor was bare, not even hay covering it to deaden the footfalls which announced an execution as often as not. Now, the guard walked more quickly, because he had a higher purpose than simply shoving food at the silent prisoner.
He crossed the room, locking the door behind him to assure no escape. The prisoner was bound to the wall by shackles on hands and feet, forcing a constant standing position with the arms above the head. Sometimes, when the guard entered, he would find the prisoner slumped over, resting all weight on the metal around the tightened wrists. But the prisoner would quickly stand when the guard came close.
Now, he could see that the prisoner was standing tall and proud, almost waiting for something. Head upright, even though strands of grimy hair hung unshaken over the face. The guard slowed in surprise. The prisoner was singing.
"I put my trust
in you,
I pushed as far as I can go,
for all this,
there's only one thing you should know…
I've tried so hard
and come so far,
but in the end,
it doesn't even matter,
I had to fall,
to lose it all,
but in the end,
it doesn't even matter…"
The tune was slow, melodic, painful. The prisoner met the guard's eyes, and smiled bitterly.
"Too slow for ya? Perhaps you'd prefer something lighter, to brighten the mood in this thoughtful place…
When the night has come,
And the land is dark,
And the moon is the only
Light you see
No, I won't be afraid
No, I won't be afraid,
Just as long, as you stand
Stand by me…
Oh, sorry, that one is slow, too. I suppose I'm not in the mood for cheerful songs right now. Would you like to sing? I'm sure we could work out a chipper duet-"
The guard slapped the prisoner hard across the face. "Impertinent. You'd best learn some respect, criminal, before you go before our great King. I'd venture you've spent enough time down here, eh, and now you're ready to speak?"
The prisoner laughed. "You do not know me well enough, kind guard! Of course I will not speak- how long have you known me? How long have you been serving me wonderful gourmet meals and allowing me passage to relieve myself? I wish to know the name of my esteemed escort!"
The guard kicked the wall right next to the prisoner, but the prisoner didn't even wince. "You may call me Heaven, criminal, because without me, you would truly live in hell." He eyed the prisoner, who stared straight ahead. "And what, criminal, is your name?"
The prisoner turned and looked at the guard intensely for a moment, as though remembering a thousand lifetimes.
"If you are Heaven then I am an angel. But you may call me Sarah, I suppose. My name is no matter. The King owns it, though he holds no power over person. May it be a trifle to you, good guard, carelessly cast aside and forgotten."
"Sarah…" the guard mumbled. "So you refuse to speak to the King for yet another day?"
"C'mon, buddy, every day you ask me this and every day I say the same thing! Get a clue!"
This was too much for the guard. He aimed for the first thing that came to mind, that wouldn't kill her. He slammed her right arm viciously to the rock wall, breaking the forearm, but she only let out a quick breath.
He glared at her, and she only stood completely still. He had done this before, once breaking her foot, and another time opening a gash in her leg. Both had healed by this time, though. Month after month, she gave him nothing but flippant retorts, witty jokes, and occasional poetic laments. She never cried out, and she never revealed her purpose in his land. How he hated the prisoner.
"I will be back tomorrow," he spat.
"I look forward to it, dear Heaven!"
~~~ Review, eh?
What I don't own: Tolkien's stuff, Linkin Park songs, Stand By Me,
What I do own: Sarah, Ryan, most of the plot, my dignity (I hope)
A/N: Ladies and gents, welcome to my story. My name is Chrisami, and I'll be your host for this little shindig. My assistant- oh, okay, he's my muse and all my inspiration, is Ian. I hope you enjoy!
Well, here it is. I wanted to keep it pretty short, so here it is. Review! And since this story actually has a prequel of sorts, this is only part 1 of the prologue. I wanna explain the basic premise, for those who don't want to read "A Wizard's Plot". BUT YOU SHOULD ANYWAY!
And then you should review!
Okay, okay, I'm getting on with it.
Prologue: Part 1
It was dark and surprisingly cold within the hard rock walls. It was a large room with a low ceiling, painfully dark, but enough light came in through the slits of windows for every corner to be discerned. The floor was bare, not even hay covering it to deaden the footfalls which announced an execution as often as not. Now, the guard walked more quickly, because he had a higher purpose than simply shoving food at the silent prisoner.
He crossed the room, locking the door behind him to assure no escape. The prisoner was bound to the wall by shackles on hands and feet, forcing a constant standing position with the arms above the head. Sometimes, when the guard entered, he would find the prisoner slumped over, resting all weight on the metal around the tightened wrists. But the prisoner would quickly stand when the guard came close.
Now, he could see that the prisoner was standing tall and proud, almost waiting for something. Head upright, even though strands of grimy hair hung unshaken over the face. The guard slowed in surprise. The prisoner was singing.
"I put my trust
in you,
I pushed as far as I can go,
for all this,
there's only one thing you should know…
I've tried so hard
and come so far,
but in the end,
it doesn't even matter,
I had to fall,
to lose it all,
but in the end,
it doesn't even matter…"
The tune was slow, melodic, painful. The prisoner met the guard's eyes, and smiled bitterly.
"Too slow for ya? Perhaps you'd prefer something lighter, to brighten the mood in this thoughtful place…
When the night has come,
And the land is dark,
And the moon is the only
Light you see
No, I won't be afraid
No, I won't be afraid,
Just as long, as you stand
Stand by me…
Oh, sorry, that one is slow, too. I suppose I'm not in the mood for cheerful songs right now. Would you like to sing? I'm sure we could work out a chipper duet-"
The guard slapped the prisoner hard across the face. "Impertinent. You'd best learn some respect, criminal, before you go before our great King. I'd venture you've spent enough time down here, eh, and now you're ready to speak?"
The prisoner laughed. "You do not know me well enough, kind guard! Of course I will not speak- how long have you known me? How long have you been serving me wonderful gourmet meals and allowing me passage to relieve myself? I wish to know the name of my esteemed escort!"
The guard kicked the wall right next to the prisoner, but the prisoner didn't even wince. "You may call me Heaven, criminal, because without me, you would truly live in hell." He eyed the prisoner, who stared straight ahead. "And what, criminal, is your name?"
The prisoner turned and looked at the guard intensely for a moment, as though remembering a thousand lifetimes.
"If you are Heaven then I am an angel. But you may call me Sarah, I suppose. My name is no matter. The King owns it, though he holds no power over person. May it be a trifle to you, good guard, carelessly cast aside and forgotten."
"Sarah…" the guard mumbled. "So you refuse to speak to the King for yet another day?"
"C'mon, buddy, every day you ask me this and every day I say the same thing! Get a clue!"
This was too much for the guard. He aimed for the first thing that came to mind, that wouldn't kill her. He slammed her right arm viciously to the rock wall, breaking the forearm, but she only let out a quick breath.
He glared at her, and she only stood completely still. He had done this before, once breaking her foot, and another time opening a gash in her leg. Both had healed by this time, though. Month after month, she gave him nothing but flippant retorts, witty jokes, and occasional poetic laments. She never cried out, and she never revealed her purpose in his land. How he hated the prisoner.
"I will be back tomorrow," he spat.
"I look forward to it, dear Heaven!"
~~~ Review, eh?
