****
A/N: A small break playing video games and rewriting my Zelda fanfics ::plug plug:: has helped me get in the mindset for writing fantasy. Let's hope that I don't disappoint. Oh, just so you know, Drakityd is derived from Old English and means something like "Drake-Land." Accipiteus, another country mentioned in this part, is derived from the Latin word for "hawk." No, I don't put much stock in subtlety myself.
Big thank yous to Q--yes, I do read your fanfics, it's just that I don't review a lot. Sorry. Don't be mad! ;_; Oh, and you were meant to think "Orlan...do Bloom. LEGOLAS!" Heehee. Glad you got it.
****
"A World Apart"
Disgrace, part II: Rebellious Actions
During Gordon's first week as a groundskeeper, he had been rendered nearly immobile with muscle pains and heavy bruising; besides the back-breaking physical labor, the Dark Elves never went out of the way to avoid him, often shoving him into walls, knocking him into trees, or tripping him with their polearmed tools. It was only Malifer's quick reactions in holding him back that kept the death-toll of palace groundskeepers from suddenly increasing. Malifer was cringing and weak, often the target of insults and beatings himself, and it was more out of a strange impulse of pity that Gordon even listened to the pale, skinny little elf.
The situation improved somewhat after a month had passed. While the work had gotten no easier, Gordon had risen admirably to the task. Years of inactivity and gluttony, which had been prematurely aging him into a paunchy, self-absorbed fop, fell away with the near-endless demands of his new occupation. Only one of his previous vices remained, and even this helped him become accepted by his fellow workers.
Sedo and Orlan had reluctantly invited him to a tavern with a seedy reputation--the only place where people of their status were allowed--and Gordon ended up drinking both of them under the table. This feat was followed by the obligatory trashing of the bar. Then, the three of them marched back to the compound, led by Orlan--wielding the leg of a barstool like a sword, and holding a broken shutter as a shield--with Sedo singing a ribald ballad that even made Gordon blush a bit. Malifer practically had kittens, he was that horrified at their behavior.
Gordon had ceased to think of his companions as orcs. How could he, when he was drawn into their circle, told their secrets, included in their sorrows and revels? Orlan, it turned out, has once been quite feared in his capacity as a demon-slayer; an exorcism gone wrong had sent the soul of a noble's daughter into hell, and sent Orlan himself to the lowest tier of society. Sedo had been born and raised in the caste. Malifer would say nothing of how he had come to be a groundskeeper, and Gordon didn't press him.
Sometimes, his meager supper settled in his belly, his body practically screaming with pain from the day's work, Gordon would sit outside, alone in the darkness. And he would look up into the black expanse of the sky and imagine the stars. He missed the stars of Middle Earth most of all.
****
"Oi, No-Good!" Sedo yelled, lashing out with his foot at the Light Elf huddled beneath the covers. "Get up, boy!"
Malifer groaned and cringed away from Sedo's blow. "I hurt," he sniveled, not moving from under his blanket, "I hurt all over."
"You whiner!" Sedo sneered. "You been here three months more'n Gordon, an' you still act like it's your first week!"
"Leave him, Sedo." Gordon said gruffly. Sedo glared at him, and Malifer pulled the covers down just enough to reveal gold eyes glimmering with hope that he had a defender. Instead, Gordon spat on the ground and declared, "I say if he doesn't work with the rest of us, as long as the rest of us, he doesn't eat."
Orlan chuckled as fastened the buckles on his boots. "That a military rule, Gordon?"
"Aye, 'tis." Gordon nodded sharply. "A rule of my own; one that I follow myself. I held my men to it, and I'll hold you to it as well, Malifer."
Sullenly, Malifer shoved aside his blanket, wincing as he did so. With a half-hearted glare, he muttered, "If everyone followed that stupid rule, whole families would perish."
Gordon grinned. "Perhaps. But 'twould be all the fat, useless noblemen who think they're above an honest day's work, like you." His expression softened. "Now get up and dress before Sedo has to kick you again."
****
"Why do you put up with No-Good, Gordon?" Sedo asked, hefting another shovelful of manure into the cart. He and Gordon were mucking out King Gwalchgwyn's stables that morning, and had fertilizing Queen Daegese'age's gardens to look forward to that afternoon, followed by trimming the ornamental flowering trees and gathering kitchen refuse.
Gordon considered the question as he dumped more manure into the cart they would take down to the gardens, after placing proper deodorising charms on it, and replied after a moment, "I feel a bit sorry for him."
"You shouldn'." Sedo grunted.
"Why not?"
Sedo looked up into Gordon's questioning blue gaze and smiled grimly. "The boy slew his own kin, a brother, I heard; the only reason he's here instead of dead is because his father gave a hefty pile of riches to the king. No-Good feels guilty," here Sedo paused to pack down the contents of the cart before continuing, "about being involved in the whole thing...it upsets his principles or some high-class nonsense like that. An' he's been our white elephant ever since he showed up."
"If he'd done such a thing in Mirkwood," Gordon grumbled, "he'd be cast out to live with the Men, at best. At worst, he'd be hung from a tree and left for the spiders."
"If he'd done such a thing in Accipiteus, he'd be chained to the cliffs by sea to die."
"Accipiteus?" Gordon repeated. Sedo nodded.
"The country that I lived in before the Exodus. Our sworn enemy was the country of Drakityd...now they simply play those stupid Gladiatorial Games..."
****
Gordon and Sedo were dragging the now-empty manure cart back to the stables when they heard an unfamiliar voice out in the yard. Coming out of the trees, Gordon could see a finely dressed young elf lord attired for riding, speaking to a young lady; both were completely ignoring the elves readying their horses, a grey mare and a roan gelding.
"S'all righ', we can take this thing in. Those high-an'-mighty young ones pretend not to see any of us." Sedo told Gordon. "Then we'll get those gardening tools and go about trimming the queen's flower-trees." Gordon nodded.
Suddenly, the young man spoke up, "Well, look at what we have here...Malifer Ashleaf."
Sedo tensed. He hissed venomously, "Damn that No-Good!" for it was clear that someone from Malifer's past was visiting the castle, and that there was a possibility for an unpleasant confrontation. He and Gordon quickly made it to the stable doors, where they hovered in the shadows, watching the little drama.
"Geri Clearwater," Malifer said softly, with an acknowledging nod. He continued to brush the roan gelding's coat smooth as another elf waited to buckle the saddle and stirrups on. After a moment, Malifer patted the horse's shoulder and signaled for his helper to take over.
"How do you like the new job your daddy got you, Malifer?" Geri Clearwater asked, grinning nastily. His female companion giggled appreciatively.
Malifer shrugged. "Well enough."
"You look filthy," the girl said in a haughty voice, "is there a rule about these swine not bathing, or are you simply a dirty little pig yourself?"
"No, Miss." Malifer replied, "You assume incorrectly both times."
"Are you arguing with the lady?" Geri demanded. Malifer shook his head.
"Nay, Geri. I am correcting her mistake."
Almost before he finished speaking, the other stablehands had vanished from the scene, sensing a conflict they did not wish to be involved in, for the love of their own skins. Geri stared at Malifer, anger clear in his face. He snarled, "You dare...you dare to take on airs not fitting of your station."
Malifer remained calm. "I apologise."
Geri ignored these words, and hit Malifer in the side of the face. Immediately, Gordon ran out and struck the Geri in the stomach with the handle of his shovel. Geri went reeling, the young woman screamed, and Gordon knocked the younger elf to the ground.
"And you dare to strike a man not under your authority." Gordon growled at the fallen elf. "Be grateful that you aren't dead."
"Gordon, you've made a grave mistake!" Malifer cried, a hand pressed to his cheek where a bruise of mottled red and purplish-yellow was rapidly blooming.
"Aye, you'll hang for sure," Sedo told Gordon bluntly. His colorless eyes shifted to the woman and he said in a sneering, unctuous voice, "What are you waiting for, missie? You'll be wanting to report this, eh? Now you've got the chance to do in one of us 'swine' like you seem so keen to do."
The woman said nothing, but turned and ran back up to the palace, casting a few fearful glances back behind her as she went. Malifer was wringing his hands nervously, and finally he burst out with,
"He didn't hurt me, honestly! You didn't have to, Gordon, not that I'm not grateful--I am--it's just..."
"Now I'm a dead elf walking," Gordon supplied. "Well, better make it count," he said cheerfully, and smashed the flat of his shovel into Geri's face, effectively knocking the young nobleman out while also giving him a broken nose and two black eyes.
A/N: A small break playing video games and rewriting my Zelda fanfics ::plug plug:: has helped me get in the mindset for writing fantasy. Let's hope that I don't disappoint. Oh, just so you know, Drakityd is derived from Old English and means something like "Drake-Land." Accipiteus, another country mentioned in this part, is derived from the Latin word for "hawk." No, I don't put much stock in subtlety myself.
Big thank yous to Q--yes, I do read your fanfics, it's just that I don't review a lot. Sorry. Don't be mad! ;_; Oh, and you were meant to think "Orlan...do Bloom. LEGOLAS!" Heehee. Glad you got it.
****
"A World Apart"
Disgrace, part II: Rebellious Actions
During Gordon's first week as a groundskeeper, he had been rendered nearly immobile with muscle pains and heavy bruising; besides the back-breaking physical labor, the Dark Elves never went out of the way to avoid him, often shoving him into walls, knocking him into trees, or tripping him with their polearmed tools. It was only Malifer's quick reactions in holding him back that kept the death-toll of palace groundskeepers from suddenly increasing. Malifer was cringing and weak, often the target of insults and beatings himself, and it was more out of a strange impulse of pity that Gordon even listened to the pale, skinny little elf.
The situation improved somewhat after a month had passed. While the work had gotten no easier, Gordon had risen admirably to the task. Years of inactivity and gluttony, which had been prematurely aging him into a paunchy, self-absorbed fop, fell away with the near-endless demands of his new occupation. Only one of his previous vices remained, and even this helped him become accepted by his fellow workers.
Sedo and Orlan had reluctantly invited him to a tavern with a seedy reputation--the only place where people of their status were allowed--and Gordon ended up drinking both of them under the table. This feat was followed by the obligatory trashing of the bar. Then, the three of them marched back to the compound, led by Orlan--wielding the leg of a barstool like a sword, and holding a broken shutter as a shield--with Sedo singing a ribald ballad that even made Gordon blush a bit. Malifer practically had kittens, he was that horrified at their behavior.
Gordon had ceased to think of his companions as orcs. How could he, when he was drawn into their circle, told their secrets, included in their sorrows and revels? Orlan, it turned out, has once been quite feared in his capacity as a demon-slayer; an exorcism gone wrong had sent the soul of a noble's daughter into hell, and sent Orlan himself to the lowest tier of society. Sedo had been born and raised in the caste. Malifer would say nothing of how he had come to be a groundskeeper, and Gordon didn't press him.
Sometimes, his meager supper settled in his belly, his body practically screaming with pain from the day's work, Gordon would sit outside, alone in the darkness. And he would look up into the black expanse of the sky and imagine the stars. He missed the stars of Middle Earth most of all.
****
"Oi, No-Good!" Sedo yelled, lashing out with his foot at the Light Elf huddled beneath the covers. "Get up, boy!"
Malifer groaned and cringed away from Sedo's blow. "I hurt," he sniveled, not moving from under his blanket, "I hurt all over."
"You whiner!" Sedo sneered. "You been here three months more'n Gordon, an' you still act like it's your first week!"
"Leave him, Sedo." Gordon said gruffly. Sedo glared at him, and Malifer pulled the covers down just enough to reveal gold eyes glimmering with hope that he had a defender. Instead, Gordon spat on the ground and declared, "I say if he doesn't work with the rest of us, as long as the rest of us, he doesn't eat."
Orlan chuckled as fastened the buckles on his boots. "That a military rule, Gordon?"
"Aye, 'tis." Gordon nodded sharply. "A rule of my own; one that I follow myself. I held my men to it, and I'll hold you to it as well, Malifer."
Sullenly, Malifer shoved aside his blanket, wincing as he did so. With a half-hearted glare, he muttered, "If everyone followed that stupid rule, whole families would perish."
Gordon grinned. "Perhaps. But 'twould be all the fat, useless noblemen who think they're above an honest day's work, like you." His expression softened. "Now get up and dress before Sedo has to kick you again."
****
"Why do you put up with No-Good, Gordon?" Sedo asked, hefting another shovelful of manure into the cart. He and Gordon were mucking out King Gwalchgwyn's stables that morning, and had fertilizing Queen Daegese'age's gardens to look forward to that afternoon, followed by trimming the ornamental flowering trees and gathering kitchen refuse.
Gordon considered the question as he dumped more manure into the cart they would take down to the gardens, after placing proper deodorising charms on it, and replied after a moment, "I feel a bit sorry for him."
"You shouldn'." Sedo grunted.
"Why not?"
Sedo looked up into Gordon's questioning blue gaze and smiled grimly. "The boy slew his own kin, a brother, I heard; the only reason he's here instead of dead is because his father gave a hefty pile of riches to the king. No-Good feels guilty," here Sedo paused to pack down the contents of the cart before continuing, "about being involved in the whole thing...it upsets his principles or some high-class nonsense like that. An' he's been our white elephant ever since he showed up."
"If he'd done such a thing in Mirkwood," Gordon grumbled, "he'd be cast out to live with the Men, at best. At worst, he'd be hung from a tree and left for the spiders."
"If he'd done such a thing in Accipiteus, he'd be chained to the cliffs by sea to die."
"Accipiteus?" Gordon repeated. Sedo nodded.
"The country that I lived in before the Exodus. Our sworn enemy was the country of Drakityd...now they simply play those stupid Gladiatorial Games..."
****
Gordon and Sedo were dragging the now-empty manure cart back to the stables when they heard an unfamiliar voice out in the yard. Coming out of the trees, Gordon could see a finely dressed young elf lord attired for riding, speaking to a young lady; both were completely ignoring the elves readying their horses, a grey mare and a roan gelding.
"S'all righ', we can take this thing in. Those high-an'-mighty young ones pretend not to see any of us." Sedo told Gordon. "Then we'll get those gardening tools and go about trimming the queen's flower-trees." Gordon nodded.
Suddenly, the young man spoke up, "Well, look at what we have here...Malifer Ashleaf."
Sedo tensed. He hissed venomously, "Damn that No-Good!" for it was clear that someone from Malifer's past was visiting the castle, and that there was a possibility for an unpleasant confrontation. He and Gordon quickly made it to the stable doors, where they hovered in the shadows, watching the little drama.
"Geri Clearwater," Malifer said softly, with an acknowledging nod. He continued to brush the roan gelding's coat smooth as another elf waited to buckle the saddle and stirrups on. After a moment, Malifer patted the horse's shoulder and signaled for his helper to take over.
"How do you like the new job your daddy got you, Malifer?" Geri Clearwater asked, grinning nastily. His female companion giggled appreciatively.
Malifer shrugged. "Well enough."
"You look filthy," the girl said in a haughty voice, "is there a rule about these swine not bathing, or are you simply a dirty little pig yourself?"
"No, Miss." Malifer replied, "You assume incorrectly both times."
"Are you arguing with the lady?" Geri demanded. Malifer shook his head.
"Nay, Geri. I am correcting her mistake."
Almost before he finished speaking, the other stablehands had vanished from the scene, sensing a conflict they did not wish to be involved in, for the love of their own skins. Geri stared at Malifer, anger clear in his face. He snarled, "You dare...you dare to take on airs not fitting of your station."
Malifer remained calm. "I apologise."
Geri ignored these words, and hit Malifer in the side of the face. Immediately, Gordon ran out and struck the Geri in the stomach with the handle of his shovel. Geri went reeling, the young woman screamed, and Gordon knocked the younger elf to the ground.
"And you dare to strike a man not under your authority." Gordon growled at the fallen elf. "Be grateful that you aren't dead."
"Gordon, you've made a grave mistake!" Malifer cried, a hand pressed to his cheek where a bruise of mottled red and purplish-yellow was rapidly blooming.
"Aye, you'll hang for sure," Sedo told Gordon bluntly. His colorless eyes shifted to the woman and he said in a sneering, unctuous voice, "What are you waiting for, missie? You'll be wanting to report this, eh? Now you've got the chance to do in one of us 'swine' like you seem so keen to do."
The woman said nothing, but turned and ran back up to the palace, casting a few fearful glances back behind her as she went. Malifer was wringing his hands nervously, and finally he burst out with,
"He didn't hurt me, honestly! You didn't have to, Gordon, not that I'm not grateful--I am--it's just..."
"Now I'm a dead elf walking," Gordon supplied. "Well, better make it count," he said cheerfully, and smashed the flat of his shovel into Geri's face, effectively knocking the young nobleman out while also giving him a broken nose and two black eyes.