[31_days] Wishful thinking
Jan. 13th, 2019 12:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tickletheoryI can't seem to let these two old characters go. I've always enjoyed writing Edward and the cross-dressing Viscount, Alex, so I've revived them instead. I'm rewriting some of their history. One day I swear I'll be a able to make an outline of their story.
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31_days 11 Jan prompt: my fingers will find yours, tangle & sweeten the air
Alex and their challenger walked ten paces and Edward observed with trepidation. He was bundled warmly under his coat when they've left the house, but on the open field the chilly kiss of dawn seeped through the layers. He'd exhausted his means at multiple attempts to dissuade both his friend and the foreigner to settle their differences in gentlemanly but less fatal ways but neither budged. He tried to reassure himself that nobody he knew had died from a duel, and his friend the viscount couldn't possibly be the first.
"Worry not, Lord Montagu. This isn't my first time as a surgeon on hand for a duel," the doctor behind him said. Edward kept his silence, his fists clenched inside his pockets, preserving some warmth and some sanity.
Finally he heard the sound of the signal and shots were fired. A false sense of calm enveloped him for a few seconds before he saw his friend stagger and fall.
"First blood!" he heard someone shout, but he was already running. The duel was over, all honor preserved at the cost of blood. How much, he didn't know. His heart had dropped the moment his friend's body touched the ground and the air around him seemed to have disappeared as he ran to reach him.
"Howell!" Edward didn’t need to kneel down to the ground to see how bad the wound was. The redness was still spreading across Alex's shirt. Anger and fear overwhelmed him in a way that he'd never had to deal with before. "Howell, you damned, bloody fool!"
Alex groaned and Edward swore the groan was followed by an agonized chuckle.
"You think the prospect of death is amusing?" he shouted angrily.
Alex looked at him with effort to say, "Even -- even fright becomes you.” His friend’s smile was crooked. “Did I tell you this morning how good you looked in that coat?"
He could always trust Alex to jest when courting death. "When you recover after this, I shall personally give you a beating."
The surgeon was right behind him and hurriedly tore open part of the shirt, revealing the wound. "Please, viscount, try not to move. I worry that there will be infection later on, but I will endeavor to do my best."
"Don’t you think, my lord," Alex addressed Edward and ignored the surgeon, "this is an honourable way to die? I cannot salvage my reputation but a duel on the other hand —"
"Stop your nonsense at once, Howell. You will not die today, or tomorrow." Edward noticed his friend’s hand tighten and his leg jerk in pain.
Edward reached out and took Alex’s hand and squeezed firmly. His grip was strong and reassuring. Alex felt a little guilt for dragging Edward all the way here and a little regret for her deceptions. She felt tired in ways her friend would not be able to comprehend. She’d struggled so long, they’d been friends for so short in comparison but for her it’s been more than enough.
"You have to let me, Montagu." Alex rarely addressed him affectionately. Eyes closing, Alex gave into the pain and lost consciousness. Edward felt his friend’s hand go limp. He could not bear to lose a friend so dear. He pulled his hand back slowly and let go.
Tell me, Howell. How could I?
31_days 11 Jan prompt: my fingers will find yours, tangle & sweeten the airAlex and their challenger walked ten paces and Edward observed with trepidation. He was bundled warmly under his coat when they've left the house, but on the open field the chilly kiss of dawn seeped through the layers. He'd exhausted his means at multiple attempts to dissuade both his friend and the foreigner to settle their differences in gentlemanly but less fatal ways but neither budged. He tried to reassure himself that nobody he knew had died from a duel, and his friend the viscount couldn't possibly be the first.
"Worry not, Lord Montagu. This isn't my first time as a surgeon on hand for a duel," the doctor behind him said. Edward kept his silence, his fists clenched inside his pockets, preserving some warmth and some sanity.
Finally he heard the sound of the signal and shots were fired. A false sense of calm enveloped him for a few seconds before he saw his friend stagger and fall.
"First blood!" he heard someone shout, but he was already running. The duel was over, all honor preserved at the cost of blood. How much, he didn't know. His heart had dropped the moment his friend's body touched the ground and the air around him seemed to have disappeared as he ran to reach him.
"Howell!" Edward didn’t need to kneel down to the ground to see how bad the wound was. The redness was still spreading across Alex's shirt. Anger and fear overwhelmed him in a way that he'd never had to deal with before. "Howell, you damned, bloody fool!"
Alex groaned and Edward swore the groan was followed by an agonized chuckle.
"You think the prospect of death is amusing?" he shouted angrily.
Alex looked at him with effort to say, "Even -- even fright becomes you.” His friend’s smile was crooked. “Did I tell you this morning how good you looked in that coat?"
He could always trust Alex to jest when courting death. "When you recover after this, I shall personally give you a beating."
The surgeon was right behind him and hurriedly tore open part of the shirt, revealing the wound. "Please, viscount, try not to move. I worry that there will be infection later on, but I will endeavor to do my best."
"Don’t you think, my lord," Alex addressed Edward and ignored the surgeon, "this is an honourable way to die? I cannot salvage my reputation but a duel on the other hand —"
"Stop your nonsense at once, Howell. You will not die today, or tomorrow." Edward noticed his friend’s hand tighten and his leg jerk in pain.
Edward reached out and took Alex’s hand and squeezed firmly. His grip was strong and reassuring. Alex felt a little guilt for dragging Edward all the way here and a little regret for her deceptions. She felt tired in ways her friend would not be able to comprehend. She’d struggled so long, they’d been friends for so short in comparison but for her it’s been more than enough.
"You have to let me, Montagu." Alex rarely addressed him affectionately. Eyes closing, Alex gave into the pain and lost consciousness. Edward felt his friend’s hand go limp. He could not bear to lose a friend so dear. He pulled his hand back slowly and let go.
Tell me, Howell. How could I?