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fandom_empire_workplace2023-01-19 09:44 pm
liriaen) wrote in fandom_empire_workplace2023-01-19 09:44 pm
Entry tags:
Monopoly Week 1: They're here!
Creator: liriaen
Title: For the love of the hunt
Fandom: Barbarians (II)
Characters/Pairings: Ari (Arminius of the Cherusci), Marbod (Maroboduus)
Prompt: They're here!
Word Count: 400
Rating: G
“They’re here!“
One of Talio’s men, stumbling, almost flying over his feet. “They’re here,” he repeats, fighting for breath. He’s a scout, a good runner, and the approach of the Marcomanni has sped him on eagle’s wings.
Not a Roman eagle, no, but the eagle that sits perched atop Yggdrasil.
Ari bites his lip, squints at the decayed horse heads that gawp from the Nidstangr, just outside his village. Their blood-smeared curses had better hold up now, against whatever it is Marbod brings.
“How many?”, he asks.
Look at this hovel. One of Odvulf’s sows wanders through his field of vision, happily rooting around in ankle-deep mud. The rain has been relentless, everything reeks of woodsmoke, rancid sheepskins and sodden straw.
“About a score. Marbod’s guard of honour, his wife’s. With a handful of warriors.”
“Tell the others,” Ari says, drawing closer his cloak.
We’re hiding here, he rehearses. Small settlements, hidden in the woods where Rome won’t find us. Where the cooking fires smoke pitifully and a flayed bit of horse tells you you’re home?
He had sent Varus’s head to Marbod, never to receive a reply. And now, within a few breaths, Marbod will be here. A prince among his people. One of the changelings of the occupation, just like Ari - another of those howling, snot-nosed, lice-ridden brats the Empire keeps collecting to send them back as soldiers with shiny breastplates, with Roman virtues and Roman vices. When Marbod had returned to Germany, it had been to rule as a petty princeling, beholden to the Senate. But he'd given them the middle finger instead, deftly stepping aside, vanishing with his people into no man’s land.
A muscle in Ari’s cheek jumps. It's been years since he last saw him.
“For the love of the hunt?” Talio said Marbod had sounded reserved. Costing out the invitation, no doubt, trying to sniff a trap.
Ari can’t blame him; the tribes and their reiks have been selling each other’s hides for as long as he can think. But was it always thus, even before the Romans arrived? For none of the elders of the Cherusci can remember a time it had been different.
Wait, there: his hunter’s ear picks up the sound of hooves. An unhurried procession, muffled by the leafy forest floor.
Marbod’s hair has grown long. Like Ari, he doesn’t look Roman anymore.
Ari’s heart begins to thunder.
.
liriaenTitle: For the love of the hunt
Fandom: Barbarians (II)
Characters/Pairings: Ari (Arminius of the Cherusci), Marbod (Maroboduus)
Prompt: They're here!
Word Count: 400
Rating: G
“They’re here!“
One of Talio’s men, stumbling, almost flying over his feet. “They’re here,” he repeats, fighting for breath. He’s a scout, a good runner, and the approach of the Marcomanni has sped him on eagle’s wings.
Not a Roman eagle, no, but the eagle that sits perched atop Yggdrasil.
Ari bites his lip, squints at the decayed horse heads that gawp from the Nidstangr, just outside his village. Their blood-smeared curses had better hold up now, against whatever it is Marbod brings.
“How many?”, he asks.
Look at this hovel. One of Odvulf’s sows wanders through his field of vision, happily rooting around in ankle-deep mud. The rain has been relentless, everything reeks of woodsmoke, rancid sheepskins and sodden straw.
“About a score. Marbod’s guard of honour, his wife’s. With a handful of warriors.”
“Tell the others,” Ari says, drawing closer his cloak.
We’re hiding here, he rehearses. Small settlements, hidden in the woods where Rome won’t find us. Where the cooking fires smoke pitifully and a flayed bit of horse tells you you’re home?
He had sent Varus’s head to Marbod, never to receive a reply. And now, within a few breaths, Marbod will be here. A prince among his people. One of the changelings of the occupation, just like Ari - another of those howling, snot-nosed, lice-ridden brats the Empire keeps collecting to send them back as soldiers with shiny breastplates, with Roman virtues and Roman vices. When Marbod had returned to Germany, it had been to rule as a petty princeling, beholden to the Senate. But he'd given them the middle finger instead, deftly stepping aside, vanishing with his people into no man’s land.
A muscle in Ari’s cheek jumps. It's been years since he last saw him.
“For the love of the hunt?” Talio said Marbod had sounded reserved. Costing out the invitation, no doubt, trying to sniff a trap.
Ari can’t blame him; the tribes and their reiks have been selling each other’s hides for as long as he can think. But was it always thus, even before the Romans arrived? For none of the elders of the Cherusci can remember a time it had been different.
Wait, there: his hunter’s ear picks up the sound of hooves. An unhurried procession, muffled by the leafy forest floor.
Marbod’s hair has grown long. Like Ari, he doesn’t look Roman anymore.
Ari’s heart begins to thunder.
.