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Let Me Out of Here!, Tag: Hank Morgan
Posted: Sep 15 2017, 06:25 PM
Merida pushed the hay that covered the floor of her stone cell around, looking for the small stone she had been using to make hash marks on the wall, a system to count the days of her imprisonment. Today marked day nineteen as she hid the stone again. The edge was getting sharper by the day, so pretty soon Merida was certain she could use it as a knife if she needed too. She knew that making the marks on the wall would eventually end the stone’s usefulness, but she kept at it anyway – it was the only way to keep track of how long she had been there. And with Arthur holding her Whisps, who knew if she’d make it back in time to save her brothers. The sound of armored boots scuffing the stone floor sounded somewhere else in the dungeon, and Merida hurriedly scattered the straw back around to hide her rock. It was the only weapon she had currently, and she wasn’t going to lose it. She stood back up and threw herself at the door, getting ready to fling insults and curses at whichever guard had been tasked in bringing her the daily meal she got down here. Usually just some water, a hunk of crusty bread and some sort of weak, watery soup that made her want to gag.
”BACK FOR MORE?!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, doing what she could to rattle the bars that radiated magic. She could tell, because every time she touched them, they made the hair on her arms stand on end, and that was enough to convince her that they had been enchanted in some way. She reached as far out of the bars as possible, trying to grab hold of her bow that they had foolishly left hanging beside the cell, but just out of reach. She was tempted to start pulling the lacing of her bodice out to make some sort of improvised lasso to get at the weapon, but it still would do nothing in getting her out of the cell. ”Lemme outta here an’ ah’ll best ya in a fair fight! Gimme mah Whisps back an’ ah’ll let ya live!”
As tired as the yelling made her, it always made her feel a little better, not as trapped, not as out of control of what was happening as she was. Merida rattled the bars on the door again as she heard the foot falls coming closer, and finally, she had enough of the cold evenings in the dungeon. ”At least lemme have mah cloak!
Avvie and Sig Credits to the Amazing Bach
Posted: Jan 5 2018, 11:46 AM
Life had not been easy since his wife had died and left him with a daughter to raise all on his own, in a realm that wasn't even technically his home. He'd pretty much entirely lost track of how long he'd been here, at least thirty perhaps, but then with some curse ravaging the lands making time stand still he gave up trying to figure it out.. No matter how much time passed he still felt the loss of his wife sharply, things had finally begun to feel like home. He had a wife he loved, a daughter he adored, but then magic tore his wife from their lives. He felt like he wasn't ever going to get over her, but he had to find a way to forge on for Violet's sake, and Arthur and the other knights needed him as well. He did his best to be happy, to make sure Violet was always happy, even if it felt like his grief ebb and flowed with the tides of life.
For years Hank had followed Arthur, pledged his loyalty to the man before he'd even become king. Lately though Hank was beginning to have a harder time following the king with such blind loyalty. Hank had his own mind after all, he could see things and make his own deductions, and some of the decisions Arthur had been making lately were seeming less and less in the best interest if everyone in the kingdom, some even seemed to go against decency and chivalry themselves. Now on top of raging a war against their neighbours to the north, they had taken a woman captive. Not just any woman either, but the queen, and somehow keeping a queen down in the dungeons just not only felt wrong but also felt like it must break some sort of Geneva Convention. Not that this realm had a Geneva Convention, or a Geneva for that matter. He just felt like someone of royalty shouldn't be kept in a dungeon, didn't the Brits back in his realm keep royalty in some tower or something. His world history wasn't really something he remembered much of when he was in his realm, now he remembered even less.
Hank technically didn't have a shift guarding the prisoners, generally that was something one of the lesser or newer knights did, but his conscious was getting the better of him and he didn't imagine the northerner was being treated all that well. Before he headed down he put some whiskey in a skin, some fresh baked bread and some roasted meat he had managed to wrap and stuff it all in a bag that would be easier to conceal under his cloak. He made a believable excuse to the guard about checking on the prisoner for Arthur, not like they'd check any way so he wasn't worried. The guard mentioned something about the prisoner not being very quiet, Hank just smiled, nodded and headed down into the dungeons. The guard had been right, the queen certainly had a healthy set of lungs. As he walked into view he put on his best and warmest voice he could as he was trying to be kind to her, and didn't want her to think it was a trick.
"My lady, or rather your highness perhaps is the proper term? Not sure if it's the same for you in your kingdom, I'd ask how you're fairing but I'm sorry to say Arthur doesn't seem to think the state of the dungeons is something to concern him. I've brought you some better food, heartier than the stuff I'm sure they've been feeding you........" She looked young, older than his daughter for sure, but if he had to guess not by that much, five or ten years perhaps, she was still young. He paused, what could he possibly say that would convince her he cared about her well-being, just not quite enough to go against his king and set her free of course. "I'm sorry I can't do more, Camelot had been my home for quite awhile now, and Arthur was very good to me when I first ended up here, helped me when I had no one. He's not normally like this, I wish I knew why he's been doing the things he has, but.................." He held out the bundle of food and the whiskey skin for her to take through the bars.
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