yousei-san (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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metamorphosis2011-05-15 12:48 am
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2011-05-15 12:48 am
Entry tags:
240;
Title: betrayal is a knife in the sternum of a captain and his first mate
Characters: Reitz I, Rovisco
Rating: PG
The only warning here is that Reitz is fucking insane. Oh, and this is deathfic. I guess that counts too.
"I can't thank you enough, Captain, for all that you've given me."
The knife is a sharp pain beneath his ribs; he breathes, haggard, and tries to speak. Nothing but gurgles comes out, and Reitz continues, twisting the knife slowly.
"A ship, a crew, a land... Godhood, too, wouldn't you say? For years they'll sing of how the Hero Reitz I defeated the Amontel and those who helped the evil bastards, and how he made the land safe enough to live on."
The betrayal hurts nearly as much as the knife does. It grips his heart, pounding wildly with panic and pushing blood hard enough to trickle over the handle of the blade. Reitz looks down and fingers the hilt, then presses his chin to the nape of Rovisco's neck and murmurs against skin.
"You're bleeding, Captain. That's never a good sign."
He wishes he could speak.
Reitz never allows him that pleasure; he feels the knife slip out from underneath his sternum and he doubles over in pain, regretting it as soon as he does. Reitz smiles and admires the reddened knife in the dim light from the nearby porthole, the way the light shines off every drop as it hits the floor between his feet - right in front of Rovisco.
"I'm glad we had this talk, Captain. It meant so much to me, you know? We were pretty good friends, after all. I'd hate to miss your last words."
He takes a seat by Rovisco, and Rovisco tries to strangle out a word. It doesn't work - as he thought, god damn the man - and Reitz smiles, pulling his head onto his lap. He rubs circles with his thumbs, even and firm, onto Rovisco's forehead, and watches the door.
"They'll probably come to find you soon, Captain. Your men don't trust me. They never did. You were the only one who gave us a chance."
He leans down, right to Rovisco's ear, and croons,
"Too bad it didn't do you any good."
He waits until Rovisco's breathed his last breath - he'll give him that much - before he stands and fixes the old captain's jacket around his shoulders. The door creaks open, and he glances back with a grin, knife clasped firmly in his hand.
Visitors for the wake.
Characters: Reitz I, Rovisco
Rating: PG
The only warning here is that Reitz is fucking insane. Oh, and this is deathfic. I guess that counts too.
"I can't thank you enough, Captain, for all that you've given me."
The knife is a sharp pain beneath his ribs; he breathes, haggard, and tries to speak. Nothing but gurgles comes out, and Reitz continues, twisting the knife slowly.
"A ship, a crew, a land... Godhood, too, wouldn't you say? For years they'll sing of how the Hero Reitz I defeated the Amontel and those who helped the evil bastards, and how he made the land safe enough to live on."
The betrayal hurts nearly as much as the knife does. It grips his heart, pounding wildly with panic and pushing blood hard enough to trickle over the handle of the blade. Reitz looks down and fingers the hilt, then presses his chin to the nape of Rovisco's neck and murmurs against skin.
"You're bleeding, Captain. That's never a good sign."
He wishes he could speak.
Reitz never allows him that pleasure; he feels the knife slip out from underneath his sternum and he doubles over in pain, regretting it as soon as he does. Reitz smiles and admires the reddened knife in the dim light from the nearby porthole, the way the light shines off every drop as it hits the floor between his feet - right in front of Rovisco.
"I'm glad we had this talk, Captain. It meant so much to me, you know? We were pretty good friends, after all. I'd hate to miss your last words."
He takes a seat by Rovisco, and Rovisco tries to strangle out a word. It doesn't work - as he thought, god damn the man - and Reitz smiles, pulling his head onto his lap. He rubs circles with his thumbs, even and firm, onto Rovisco's forehead, and watches the door.
"They'll probably come to find you soon, Captain. Your men don't trust me. They never did. You were the only one who gave us a chance."
He leans down, right to Rovisco's ear, and croons,
"Too bad it didn't do you any good."
He waits until Rovisco's breathed his last breath - he'll give him that much - before he stands and fixes the old captain's jacket around his shoulders. The door creaks open, and he glances back with a grin, knife clasped firmly in his hand.
Visitors for the wake.