Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabble 71

Written pre 2012, updated 2025

The feeling of something unexpected happening was a distinct and sharp pop of sensation. It was sharper when something painful doesn't happen. Ethan expected to be screaming in pain as a sword hacked at his neck. Lord Oliver had been standing over him, sword drawn, ready to behead him and drag his head around the battlefield in victory.

He wasn't screaming, no pain exploded from his vulnerable neck and the fingers forcing his neck to stretch for the blow had vanished. He fell to the ground, wheezing as his ribs rattled. Yelling and the slash of metal continued to surround him, but not directed at him. He forced himself back to his knees rather than stay hunched on the floor, vulnerable. His sight blurred as his injuries began to make it harder to function. The taste of blood burned in the back of his throat.

Lord Oliver's body landed next to him, headless. Blood pooled from his neck, and Ethan turned to face the soldier looming over him. Intense eyes, glowing amber in the sunlight, met his.

Wild dark hair blew in the wind, with grease spread over his cheek. The knight's armour was dark steel with expensive gold inlays decorating the chest plate and carved his nation's crest onto his shoulder guard. Not that it was needed with that dark steel, one nation alone used this colour of armour.

"Bellamy, where is your helmet?" Ethan croaked, half slumping.

They were enemies, technically. Their countries had not declared war against each other, but Ablein didn't consider Rupryae a sovereign nation. Rupryae rented out their impressive army to lesser nations who needed men to fight their fight. Ethan didn't know the requirements, only that it never mattered which country he'd been sent to fight; Sir Liam Bellamy appeared on their side. Over more battles and years than Ethan liked to admit, Bellamy decided Ethan was his rival.

Ethan had mixed feelings on that.

"Nearby, I wanted the scum to see who beheaded him," Bellamy grinned at him, his eyes turning more manic as his bloodlust seeped through. An animalistic growl burst from him as the grin turned furious. "How dare he try to touch you."

The sunlight burned over him, empowering his eyes and shining off the blood that had sprayed over his armour. The dark steel concealed a great deal, but an intense enough light would reveal it through. Predators didn't like it when another predator got near their prey. Ethan hated that it was the truth of their relationship.

"Should have got here quicker and claimed your stake," Ethan teased, pleased as the fury dropped from Bellamy and a more playful spark appeared in his eyes.

"I came as soon as I heard that you needed help." Bellamy sheathed his sword and leaned down to scoop his helmet off the ground before he lost it. Again. "Did you think I wouldn't come for you?"

"How come you were in the area? We're not near your usual hunting grounds?" Ethan tried to pull himself to his feet. They were never on true even ground, but it was better standing. He was not touching that last statement.

"I have some time to go home, this is just on the way," Bellamy shrugged.

"No, it's not," Ethan gave Bellamy a look.

"The border is 2 days in that direction. It's not that far," Bellamy lifted an eyebrow.

"I forgot how south the border goes after Caruso." Armour could get remarkably hot unexpectedly. It was closer than he remembered, but it wasn't close enough that this wouldn't have caused Bellamy and his men to make a drastic change to their journey.

Ethan's knees dropped again, and he winced as blood from Oliver wiped against his cheek. He rubbed the blood off his face and sat. A gloved hand appeared in his vision, offering help. Bellamy's smirk beamed down at him, pleased at the situation.