moonlite_tryst: (I heart Jord)
[personal profile] moonlite_tryst
Works as a stand alone but is a spoiler for Captive Prince Book 2 by [livejournal.com profile] freece, if you read it.

Title: Who Goes There?
Author: [livejournal.com profile] lusiology
Pairing: Jord/?
Rating: G
Word Count: 471
Warnings: Future ficlet, spoiler for Captive Prince Book 2 by [livejournal.com profile] freece.
Disclaimer: No ownership, no money.
Beta: None ATM.

Author's note For my lovely friend and fellow Captive Prince obsessee [livejournal.com profile] bornof_sorrow who is having a crappy day.



Glancing over his shoulder, Jord noticed that one of the shadows seemed to disengage itself from the many competing to deepen the gloom beneath the portico of the inn he’d just left. Jord narrowed his eyes and stared hard into the swirling mist rapidly encroaching the small dock from the sluggish river that flowed alongside it.

The shape almost looked human in form but was too indistinct in the murk for him to be certain. Nevertheless, instincts honed from many a battle during King Laurent's campaigns screamed caution and adrenaline flooded his body, preparing him for the fight that may ensue.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the man-shaped mass in the distance, Jord slowly drew his sword so as to render inaudible any sound of honed metal scraping against side of the scabbard, and stepped backwards until he felt the bulk of the warehouse rising up behind him. Rolling his shoulders and adjusting his stance to be ready for attack from any side, Jord felt comforted by the weight of the blade in his hand.

It was an exquisite sword, carefully shaped and then tempered into finely crafted steel by a master bladesmith for his preferred style of fighting, before being inscribed in gold with an interwoven design of rabatian calligraphy and akielon geometric motifs. It was a truly magnificent gift from King Damen.

Jord inwardly cursed. He hated mist; hated the creeping dampness that enveloped him to the point of suffocation; the muffled sounds that made it difficult to tell friend from foe in a fight; the white spots that danced before his eyes from peering relentlessly into the fog.

After blinking rapidly in a vain effort to clear his vision, Jord noticed that the ill-defined figure was closer than before. Feel disinclined to wait whilst his potential assassin crept ever closer, Jord shifted his stance once more, flexed his fingers on the hilt of his sword and called out, "Step forward and show yourself. Or are you a coward, capable only of skulking in shadows?"

The figure closed the distance between them quickly and stood before Jord, the cowl of the heavy fur-trimmed cloak masking any discerning facial features, and slowly raised its right arm. Jord immediately moved into a defensive posture and then saw the covered night lantern being held up before him from the slithers of light escaping from the gaps at the sides of the guard. Dim light filtered through the thickening fog as the lantern cover was partially opened, giving Jord's eyes chance to adjust. In a quieter voice he repeated his request. "Show yourself."

The person before him raised their head into the light and Jord gazed upon features he thought never to see again. He stood momentarily speechless, throat working to release some form of sound. Finally he managed to choke out, "You!"
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