0Title: A First Scar
Author: klmeri
Fandom: Black Jewels
Characters: Daemonar
Summary: Drabble. An important but heartbreaking moment in Daemonar’s life.
A/N: Oh, damn it. I broke my cardinal rule NEVER to write another Black Jewels story. *headdesk* Brain, what is the matter with you? Don’t you know when to keep your fantasies to yourself? Okay, there is obviously lots of back-story to this drabble but I couldn’t stop seeing this particular scene, so here you go.
“DAEMONAR!”
Daemonar turns, sees his father, and everything that is violent and terrifying about a Warlord Prince’s nature threatens to overwhelm him. He fights a quick, nasty battle against the howling beast within and finally leashes it with clumsy effort.
His father—he wouldn’t, couldn’t attack his father.
Daemonar lets the short-bladed knife in his hand slip loose from his fingers and drop into the grass. He looks away even as Lucivar shouts his name—a command to stay there, an order from an adult male of his family he would have obeyed without question only hours ago, except now there is the blood of his first kill upon his hands. He takes one step in the opposite direction, where the open air of the mountain range skirting Ebon Rih is like a siren’s call. Then he takes another step. And another. His head is stuffy and aching but he keeps walking, no longer aware of the drumbeat of rage subsiding in his ears.
Everything has a price. Even murder has a price, though there is no Blood law against it.
As young as he is, as justified as he feels, Daemonar instinctively knows he will be paying the price for his actions for a very long time. Maybe always. He overheard once the adults talking about soul scars. This… death will be his first soul scar.
The alternative would have been to let the man live, to let the man—teacher, of all things—continue hurting others. His friends. Possibly, some day, his sister.
No, never. Daemonar would rather bear a thousand soul scars than allow someone to touch his sister with sick intent.
His father will catch him before he makes it into the air so he doesn’t try to take flight. Still, he needs to walk, to keep moving until the last hint of this frightening living rage of his is hidden again and he can be the civilized boy he is supposed to be. He isn’t running away; his father will understand that, at least, because Warlord Princes—especially Eyrien Warlord Princes—never run away.
But his father will catch him, is in fact catching up to him now with long strides and suppressed temper, and when he does, Daemonar will have to look Lucivar Yaslana in the eyes as a killer rather than as a son. What will change between them when that happens?
Then he hears, sharp and clear but more gentle than he might have hoped for, his name again and stutters to a stop as his father darts in from an unexpected angle to intercept his aimless path and to take a hold of his shoulders in a strong grip.
When was the last time his father’s face looked so grim, so sad? Daemonar feels too shaky to interpret the mixed emotions of his father’s psychic scent but the man’s gold eyes are clear of judgment and that is enough to break past the barrier of his fear.
Lucivar says nothing, only silently and slowly pulls his son close to him, and Daemonar goes without resistance. It strikes the boy with a sudden clarity that when he hurts like this, despite whatever he has done, his father would never allow him to face his scars alone.
-Fini
Related Posts:
- A Side-Note to The Confession – from May 21, 2010
- Comparing Brothers: Why I Prefer Lucivar to Daemon – from February 25, 2014
- Interesting!! – from April 2, 2012
- blackjewelsfics – from March 20, 2012
- Black Jewels: Mikal – from March 11, 2012
