henry-prince-of-wales:

iamthefirechild:

henry-prince-of-wales:

“Please, take me there.” He said and sheathed his sword after she asked. Hal was too damn tired to take into consideration this could be a trap or a ploy to get him to let his guard down. The Prince was hungry, he needed to bathe, and most of all… he needed rest. What harm could following this person do to him? He was armored and quick on his feet. Well, maybe not quick on his feet. Not at the moment, no. He nodded and motioned for her to lead.

Glancing back constantly to be sure of the Prince’s presence, Summer quickly made her way among the tree trunks. Just a few minutes later, she was tugging open the door to a small hut tucked under a gigantic pine. “I’m afraid there is little here, highness, but it will shelter us from the night and the weather, if not the chill, and there is grain and dried meat. Will it suit? I can do no better, I am afraid, and it is not at all suitable, but … ” She sighed.

Hal didn’t expect anyone to live this far out into the forest. They’d have to be completely self sufficient or capable of making long trips to the surrounding villages. He nodded and peeked into the small hut. It looked to be large enough to hold two to three people at most. “I thank you for your kindness, for this is more than enough.” He said quietly and dipped his head in respect. Shelter was shelter and it mattered not how large or small it was. As long as it protected them from the elements and possibly hostile animals/people… Hal could care less if he had to sleep sitting up!

He seemed a bit confused, and after a moment’s thought Summer realised why. “This is only used during the making of charcoal. Someone has to be on hand to tend the fires. That’s why it’s empty now, and so far from the village,” she explained. A sharp gust of wind clashed the branches of the sheltering tree overhead, and she glanced around.

“We made it none too soon, it seems. I think a storm is coming.” Summer brushed her hands along a ledge near the door and came up with a candle, which she lit with a quick snap of fingers she hoped the Prince didn’t see. Turning around, she finally noticed the mark on his face.

“Highness, you are wounded! Why didn’t you say? That should be tended.”

henry-prince-of-wales:

iamthefirechild:

henry-prince-of-wales:

iamthefirechild:

henry-prince-of-wales:

So she did know a way out of this damned forest! There was some hope he could cling too. “I am Prince Henry of Wales. What is your name milady?” He asked, sheathing his sword and trying to appear more welcoming. Maybe she had food or knew where a village was… something… anything! But before he could start asking those questions, he had to show her some respect and learn her name. 

Summer startled. The Prince! What was he doing out here in a small skirmish? Something in the back of her brain kicked her, and she dropped to her knees. “Please forgive me, highness, I did not know you in the shadows. My name is Summer, but I am no lady.”

Formalities at a time like this? Hal nearly groaned in displeasure as she dropped to her knees and ushered out words of respect. “Never mind that… Summer. You know a place to take shelter in until morning? If not can you point me in the direction of the main road?” He asked, looking around them to make sure nothing was trying to sneak up on them.

“Yes, highness, I know a place. The charcoal burner’s hut is very close, closer than the road, though the main road is farther yet.” Scrambling up, Summer stepped sideways enough to look up through a gap in the canopy, orienting herself. Yes, just a short walk.

“Will you sheath your sword, highness? I’d not like you to take a fall in these shadows. And will you follow?” 

“Please, take me there.” He said and sheathed his sword after she asked. Hal was too damn tired to take into consideration this could be a trap or a ploy to get him to let his guard down. The Prince was hungry, he needed to bathe, and most of all… he needed rest. What harm could following this person do to him? He was armored and quick on his feet. Well, maybe not quick on his feet. Not at the moment, no. He nodded and motioned for her to lead.

Glancing back constantly to be sure of the Prince’s presence, Summer quickly made her way among the tree trunks. Just a few minutes later, she was tugging open the door to a small hut tucked under a gigantic pine. “I’m afraid there is little here, highness, but it will shelter us from the night and the weather, if not the chill, and there is grain and dried meat. Will it suit? I can do no better, I am afraid, and it is not at all suitable, but … ” She sighed.

henry-prince-of-wales:

iamthefirechild:

henry-prince-of-wales:

So she did know a way out of this damned forest! There was some hope he could cling too. “I am Prince Henry of Wales. What is your name milady?” He asked, sheathing his sword and trying to appear more welcoming. Maybe she had food or knew where a village was… something… anything! But before he could start asking those questions, he had to show her some respect and learn her name. 

Summer startled. The Prince! What was he doing out here in a small skirmish? Something in the back of her brain kicked her, and she dropped to her knees. “Please forgive me, highness, I did not know you in the shadows. My name is Summer, but I am no lady.”

Formalities at a time like this? Hal nearly groaned in displeasure as she dropped to her knees and ushered out words of respect. “Never mind that… Summer. You know a place to take shelter in until morning? If not can you point me in the direction of the main road?” He asked, looking around them to make sure nothing was trying to sneak up on them.

“Yes, highness, I know a place. The charcoal burner’s hut is very close, closer than the road, though the main road is farther yet.” Scrambling up, Summer stepped sideways enough to look up through a gap in the canopy, orienting herself. Yes, just a short walk.

“Will you sheath your sword, highness? I’d not like you to take a fall in these shadows. And will you follow?” 

henry-prince-of-wales:

iamthefirechild:

henry-prince-of-wales:

iamthefirechild:

henry-prince-of-wales:

The King’s forces had been at war, so-to-speak, with rebel forces for a good three months now. Those who hadn’t been sent home or cycled out were battle weary and exhausted. It came as no surprise to them when someone would fall out of line while their group marched onward. Sadly their corpses had to be left behind as their advancement could not be halted for fear of ambush once stopped. Somewhere deep in the forest fought the remains of a small skirmish that had jumped a squad of six men. 

There was no telling how this conflict would end, but the Prince of Wales knew it wouldn’t end well. He was locked in bitter combat with two men that would surely gut him if given an opening. One of those men was badly wounded and wouldn’t be standing much longer. A swing and a miss as someone was cut down trying to strike a vital region on the other while the third collapsed without strength to keep himself up.  The Prince was victorious, but hopelessly lost and alone in the darkness as the moon rose from beyond the horizon. 

He looked around and strained his eyes trying to see if he could make out the main road. But sadly all he saw were trees and shadows with no hope of returning to the main detachment of soldiers. The Prince was starving but only had one loaf of bread left on his person. He’d have to make it last until he could find friendly forces or make it out of the forest and into a village. “Damn…”

Summer hated the way she was drawn to battles. The pain, the fear, the anger, the whole desperate struggle for life or death — it grated on her senses as no other thing did, but also called to her. Who else could ease pain the way she could? Who else could tell the living from the dead, those who could be saved from those who were long lost?

This tiny conflict had lasted long beyond sunset, and she’d called up a tiny flame to see by when she heard someone else moving through the forest. Letting the flame go out, she gave her eyes a moment to adjust, then stepped silently around the trees until she could see the other.

Armed and armoured, it was a soldier apparently lost from the battle. He’d seen combat, but Summer didn’t sense any great pain, only weariness and confusion. His garb, though bloodstained, was rich enough. “Are you lost, sirrah?”

Hal spun around bringing his sword to bear. He didn’t hear the woman sneak up on him and his warrior instincts kicked in the second he felt his life might be in danger. He couldn’t make out her face but she didn’t look armed. It took his brain a moment to realize that the voice from this new person was female and he lowered his weapon. “I should be asking you the same.” He said and took a few steps toward her. How did she get here and what did she want?

“I cannot find the main road nor any more of my men. Those that fought by my side have perished and none brought a map.” He explained and stopped just outside arm’s length from this woman. The Prince wasn’t injured, aside from a nasty gash on his cheek, but he was starving. If she had food or knew the way back to the road he might make it out of here alive. But there was no telling just how far into the forest they were and if escaping was even a possibility before one of them fell ill. 

“I know this land as my own hands, sirrah. I can guide you to a place of safety to await the dawn.” She offered a dip of the head. If he had led men in battle, at the least he was a knight, and thus deserved some respect. The moonlight through the trees offered little glimpse of his features, but his voice was young.

So she did know a way out of this damned forest! There was some hope he could cling too. “I am Prince Henry of Wales. What is your name milady?” He asked, sheathing his sword and trying to appear more welcoming. Maybe she had food or knew where a village was… something… anything! But before he could start asking those questions, he had to show her some respect and learn her name. 

Summer startled. The Prince! What was he doing out here in a small skirmish? Something in the back of her brain kicked her, and she dropped to her knees. “Please forgive me, highness, I did not know you in the shadows. My name is Summer, but I am no lady.”

henry-prince-of-wales:

iamthefirechild:

henry-prince-of-wales:

The King’s forces had been at war, so-to-speak, with rebel forces for a good three months now. Those who hadn’t been sent home or cycled out were battle weary and exhausted. It came as no surprise to them when someone would fall out of line while their group marched onward. Sadly their corpses had to be left behind as their advancement could not be halted for fear of ambush once stopped. Somewhere deep in the forest fought the remains of a small skirmish that had jumped a squad of six men. 

There was no telling how this conflict would end, but the Prince of Wales knew it wouldn’t end well. He was locked in bitter combat with two men that would surely gut him if given an opening. One of those men was badly wounded and wouldn’t be standing much longer. A swing and a miss as someone was cut down trying to strike a vital region on the other while the third collapsed without strength to keep himself up.  The Prince was victorious, but hopelessly lost and alone in the darkness as the moon rose from beyond the horizon. 

He looked around and strained his eyes trying to see if he could make out the main road. But sadly all he saw were trees and shadows with no hope of returning to the main detachment of soldiers. The Prince was starving but only had one loaf of bread left on his person. He’d have to make it last until he could find friendly forces or make it out of the forest and into a village. “Damn…”

Summer hated the way she was drawn to battles. The pain, the fear, the anger, the whole desperate struggle for life or death — it grated on her senses as no other thing did, but also called to her. Who else could ease pain the way she could? Who else could tell the living from the dead, those who could be saved from those who were long lost?

This tiny conflict had lasted long beyond sunset, and she’d called up a tiny flame to see by when she heard someone else moving through the forest. Letting the flame go out, she gave her eyes a moment to adjust, then stepped silently around the trees until she could see the other.

Armed and armoured, it was a soldier apparently lost from the battle. He’d seen combat, but Summer didn’t sense any great pain, only weariness and confusion. His garb, though bloodstained, was rich enough. “Are you lost, sirrah?”

Hal spun around bringing his sword to bear. He didn’t hear the woman sneak up on him and his warrior instincts kicked in the second he felt his life might be in danger. He couldn’t make out her face but she didn’t look armed. It took his brain a moment to realize that the voice from this new person was female and he lowered his weapon. “I should be asking you the same.” He said and took a few steps toward her. How did she get here and what did she want?

“I cannot find the main road nor any more of my men. Those that fought by my side have perished and none brought a map.” He explained and stopped just outside arm’s length from this woman. The Prince wasn’t injured, aside from a nasty gash on his cheek, but he was starving. If she had food or knew the way back to the road he might make it out of here alive. But there was no telling just how far into the forest they were and if escaping was even a possibility before one of them fell ill. 

“I know this land as my own hands, sirrah. I can guide you to a place of safety to await the dawn.” She offered a dip of the head. If he had led men in battle, at the least he was a knight, and thus deserved some respect. The moonlight through the trees offered little glimpse of his features, but his voice was young.

henry-prince-of-wales:

The King’s forces had been at war, so-to-speak, with rebel forces for a good three months now. Those who hadn’t been sent home or cycled out were battle weary and exhausted. It came as no surprise to them when someone would fall out of line while their group marched onward. Sadly their corpses had to be left behind as their advancement could not be halted for fear of ambush once stopped. Somewhere deep in the forest fought the remains of a small skirmish that had jumped a squad of six men. 

There was no telling how this conflict would end, but the Prince of Wales knew it wouldn’t end well. He was locked in bitter combat with two men that would surely gut him if given an opening. One of those men was badly wounded and wouldn’t be standing much longer. A swing and a miss as someone was cut down trying to strike a vital region on the other while the third collapsed without strength to keep himself up.  The Prince was victorious, but hopelessly lost and alone in the darkness as the moon rose from beyond the horizon. 

He looked around and strained his eyes trying to see if he could make out the main road. But sadly all he saw were trees and shadows with no hope of returning to the main detachment of soldiers. The Prince was starving but only had one loaf of bread left on his person. He’d have to make it last until he could find friendly forces or make it out of the forest and into a village. “Damn…”

Summer hated the way she was drawn to battles. The pain, the fear, the anger, the whole desperate struggle for life or death — it grated on her senses as no other thing did, but also called to her. Who else could ease pain the way she could? Who else could tell the living from the dead, those who could be saved from those who were long lost?

This tiny conflict had lasted long beyond sunset, and she’d called up a tiny flame to see by when she heard someone else moving through the forest. Letting the flame go out, she gave her eyes a moment to adjust, then stepped silently around the trees until she could see the other.

Armed and armoured, it was a soldier apparently lost from the battle. He’d seen combat, but Summer didn’t sense any great pain, only weariness and confusion. His garb, though bloodstained, was rich enough. “Are you lost, sirrah?”