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yrae2004-09-27 12:32 am
annarti.livejournal.com) wrote in yrae2004-09-27 12:32 am
Entry tags:
15min fic #46
Title~ Unhorsed
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All~ mine.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 46. Nol i nthe jousting tournament earlier this year. I was hoping a word'd come up for me to do this one, even tho he's going to kill me for it =3
~ ~ ~
The Raykinian prince sat proudly astride his stallion, rolling his right shoulder awkwardly under the heavy steel armour. Over the weeks of the Llayan jousting tournament, he had grown used to the added weight of steel, but his right arm had only grown more and more uncomfortable. He was used to pulling a bowstring back with it, not forcing a lance forward with the full power of his horse behind it.
He shrugged the armour into a more comfortable position and glared through his visor at the Kazinian at the other end of the fence. His chestnut warhorse seemed even more frisky than Mongrel, much to the prince’s pleasure.
Nolryn breathed deeply as a new lance was placed in his sore right arm. He was glad the Kazinian couldn’t see him grimace under the weight.
Briefly, his eyes flicked around the stands surrounding the arena. Numerous Raykinians who had either been knocked out of the joust or were here for a different event cheered him on with indecipherable phrases. The Kazinians in the stands did likewise for the prince’s opponent. The Llayans sat demurely with their ladies, commenting on what a fascinating match the two young gentlemen were putting on for them. Or so Nol assumed.
The yellow robed Llayan whose job it was to begin the joust walked to the middle of the fence. Behind him, eighteen flags jutted out of the wall; nine points had been awarded to Nolryn, nine to his opponent. Nol rolled his shoulder again, reminded not only of how long the joust had lasted, but that this was the last point. If he just managed to stay on Mongrel’s back for this point, he would emerge from the tournament victorious.
The Llayan held up a flag the same colour as his robe, glanced at each of the competitors to make sure they were ready, then yelled at the top of his voice for the last time this tournament, “ALI!”
Nolryn dug his heels into Mongrel’s flanks, shouting to urge the horse to move faster as he lowered his lance and lifted himself in the stirrups. The Kazinian on his chestnut warhorse thundered down the other side of the fence, hoof beats barely heard over the roaring of the Kazinian and Raykinian contingent.
The sound of willow cracking on steel rang in Nolryn’s ears as the lances made contact, then he was overcome with the strangest sensation of his horse slipping out from under him. He was only allowed to contemplate the feeling of being airborne for a few seconds before he crashed to the ground in an awkward heap of steel.
He groaned something unintelligible, lifting one gauntleted hand to his forehead. Gradually, in the abyss of his aching head, he became aware of a shadow blacking out the sun.
Finally the shadow spoke in the hissing tongue of the northern kingdom. “It would appear that Kazin has gained another elephant,” Nol’s opponent told him.
The prince glared through his visor, not saying anything. Instead, he weakly thrust the back of his hand at the victor and went back to groaning in agony.
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ All~ mine.
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 46. Nol i nthe jousting tournament earlier this year. I was hoping a word'd come up for me to do this one, even tho he's going to kill me for it =3
The Raykinian prince sat proudly astride his stallion, rolling his right shoulder awkwardly under the heavy steel armour. Over the weeks of the Llayan jousting tournament, he had grown used to the added weight of steel, but his right arm had only grown more and more uncomfortable. He was used to pulling a bowstring back with it, not forcing a lance forward with the full power of his horse behind it.
He shrugged the armour into a more comfortable position and glared through his visor at the Kazinian at the other end of the fence. His chestnut warhorse seemed even more frisky than Mongrel, much to the prince’s pleasure.
Nolryn breathed deeply as a new lance was placed in his sore right arm. He was glad the Kazinian couldn’t see him grimace under the weight.
Briefly, his eyes flicked around the stands surrounding the arena. Numerous Raykinians who had either been knocked out of the joust or were here for a different event cheered him on with indecipherable phrases. The Kazinians in the stands did likewise for the prince’s opponent. The Llayans sat demurely with their ladies, commenting on what a fascinating match the two young gentlemen were putting on for them. Or so Nol assumed.
The yellow robed Llayan whose job it was to begin the joust walked to the middle of the fence. Behind him, eighteen flags jutted out of the wall; nine points had been awarded to Nolryn, nine to his opponent. Nol rolled his shoulder again, reminded not only of how long the joust had lasted, but that this was the last point. If he just managed to stay on Mongrel’s back for this point, he would emerge from the tournament victorious.
The Llayan held up a flag the same colour as his robe, glanced at each of the competitors to make sure they were ready, then yelled at the top of his voice for the last time this tournament, “ALI!”
Nolryn dug his heels into Mongrel’s flanks, shouting to urge the horse to move faster as he lowered his lance and lifted himself in the stirrups. The Kazinian on his chestnut warhorse thundered down the other side of the fence, hoof beats barely heard over the roaring of the Kazinian and Raykinian contingent.
The sound of willow cracking on steel rang in Nolryn’s ears as the lances made contact, then he was overcome with the strangest sensation of his horse slipping out from under him. He was only allowed to contemplate the feeling of being airborne for a few seconds before he crashed to the ground in an awkward heap of steel.
He groaned something unintelligible, lifting one gauntleted hand to his forehead. Gradually, in the abyss of his aching head, he became aware of a shadow blacking out the sun.
Finally the shadow spoke in the hissing tongue of the northern kingdom. “It would appear that Kazin has gained another elephant,” Nol’s opponent told him.
The prince glared through his visor, not saying anything. Instead, he weakly thrust the back of his hand at the victor and went back to groaning in agony.