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Some Fiction I Wrote
seawalker13
Member, Neverwinter Beta Users, Neverwinter Guardian Users Posts: 229 Bounty Hunter
It's a snippet of a long-ago sci-fi story me and some friends indulged in. I'd have to go way back to get it all, but while I was digging through my laptops tonight I happened upon this. It's the usual orphan lost and found kind of thing, but still sweet to me. Some day I'll put up a website or a blog with the entire thing. For your perusal:
He held Shana in his arms lightly, not wanting to bruise her against his stained battle armor, but she would have none of that. She clung to him, rubbing her cheek against his, feeling his beard tickling her cheek, not minding the smell of lubricating oils in the servo-motors of his armor, not minding the smell of a body who has spent many many hours in a combat suit. Intuitively she knew her father was not the type of ruler who would send his troops where he himself would not dare to go, and this was an indication of how close he
He held Shana in his arms lightly, not wanting to bruise her against his stained battle armor, but she would have none of that. She clung to him, rubbing her cheek against his, feeling his beard tickling her cheek, not minding the smell of lubricating oils in the servo-motors of his armor, not minding the smell of a body who has spent many many hours in a combat suit. Intuitively she knew her father was not the type of ruler who would send his troops where he himself would not dare to go, and this was an indication of how close he
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Tears streamed down her face, her usual strong sense of reserve melting away at the touch of her father’s hands, the feel of his strong arms wrapped around her. He rocked her in his arms silently for several long moments, occasionally brushing her cheek with his lips.
At last he pulled away slightly, and smiled at her, kissing her forehead lightly and helping her settle back against the pillows in the ornate bed. She regarded him thoughtfully, drinking in his appearance with her eyes, taking in the care-worn lines around his eyes, the grim set of his jaw, his beard shot through with silver, wanting to lock every sense into this one exchange. She’d never known her father before this moment.
“Your Highness, I’m sorry to intrude but your presence is required in the Tactical Commcenter, negotiations for the return of our captured and our wounded, and burial arrangements for the dead”, her father’s executive officer replied.
Her memory flooded her thoughts with what transpired before she fainted. “You still have matters to settle with our enemies?” she asked quietly.
“We have much to discuss, father”, she smiled. “But it can wait, your people need you. There is one thing I must know before you go, though.” She raised her knees and rested her chin on her hand, gazing at him. “What is your name?”
She shook her head and laughed, and waved her father out of the room before settling back against the pillows again to sleep.
Tiko
I want my pony!