The Red Yarn- It meant something different to each of them. Yet it served as a constant reminder of the journey they had shared.
Neal used it to tie his bag of healing supplies closed. Every time he went to mend a child's cut or save a soldier's life, it was there to remind him of the sweat and the blood, the ones he couldn't save. To make him try just that little bit harder even when there was nothing left, so there would be one less face to haunt his dreams. Or one less child without a mother, or one less wife without a husband.
It was his conscience. To Kel, it probably had all sorts of noble meaning about the importance of impossible rescue missions and protecting kittens, like she would ever need a reminder. She would probably tell him he was being selfish, thinking of her when there were so many who hadn't made it back. But for Neal, it would always be the pain in her eyes when she told him not to heal the enemy. The proud smile when she noticed another bit of leather reign or wagon axel. The restrained ferocity of her gaze as she watched death burn. At age ten, she had taught him the meaning of chivalry; at age eighteen, the meaning of sacrifice. And somewhere in between, hidden amongst the obnoxiously cheery conversations during morning mess and the kicked shins of class, it had been strength, passion, faith, forgiveness. Wyldon had taught him to fight, to protect those weaker than himself; it was the training master who had made him a knight. But Kel showed them all why the weak were worth protecting and made him worthy of the title. Before he opened his bag he was reminded of lessons learned, lest he ever forget what it meant to be truly noble.
It was his heart. He liked to play the role of the conventional, traditional knight, to act as if his Gift was a chore, as if he didn't care. But it was so easy for the act to become real. So the yarn kept him from forgetting the man he wanted to be, the one who could look his best friend and all the world in the face without shame or fear. The man who had once risked death to save his people, who risked death every time he stubbornly refused to stop healing and began to draw on his own life force.
To Neal, it was the best part of himself. The part that was not cynical or jaded, but that fought like hell for each and every life, be it noble or common, young or old. It was everything that he was afraid to let show and everything that he was most terrified to lose.
So there's Neal- Dom will be next, with Owen last. This was harder for me to write than the others; Neal is a great character but he also seems to be one of the most difficult for me to write seriously and not just use as a foil for Kel or comic relief. Keep an eye out for the last two sections, they should be up in a day or so. Thanks!