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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

An interlude at midnight


jonathan_wolfe

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Jonathan glances out from his spot secluded in the shadows, looking up and down the hallway, his ears splayed wide, his eyes searching for any sign, any hint of a certain Aegon as he gently leads another dark figure by the hand, the pair of them melding to the shadows like their natural habitat.

 

“Nobody told me you there was a special someone in your world Yui.”

 

She just smiles at him as he leads her across the bright hallway, seeking the darkness of the next room

 

“I mean it’s really awkward, I have to take you out, show you a good time… and ensure your closest and dearest companion doesn’t get word of this? ‘Tis a fine challenge” Jonathan rambles on.

 

Yui’s face changes its expression from neutral to amused; it’s all he can do to make out her eyes in the twilight. Jonathan crosses the room and gently pulls up on the latch of the window facing out into an inner garden of the Pen Keep, taking Yui’s hand once again and gliding them both down a semi-solid stairway, oozing darkness from their feet as they descend to the grasses of the moonlit sanctuary.

 

“And so on these grounds, do I fulfill my duties to the auction and entertain Milady Yui to the best of my abilities.” He turns to her and bows, letting the shadows draw from his figure, leaving the fox in his drab monk-like garb, his braided bangs glinting in the moonlight. Yui takes a seat on a bench next to a very old rose hedge as Jonathan moves to the middle of the clearing, standing in front of a statue,

 

“I had to consider the format of this nighttime interlude, for I lack the panache and wit of the more charismatic denizens of the mighty Pen. So I decided to fall back upon what I know best.”

 

He clears his throat and begins to speak,

 

Before, in the light

 

Gleaming glowing towers of old

Gilded skyline, sun cast orange upon

The cobblestones, the columns and

minarets.

 

The highest tower.

 

The finest and grandest abode, the great

hall of the emperor

hearth, home, fortress, sanctuary

 

an emperor is never absolute, never safe,

a tower a mile high cannot protect him or his

riches

 

outside, the sun sets

 

gleaming gold and brass minarets pale,

moonlit, stark and unforgiving

rich light within.

upon the walls a presence seeks

the emperor.

 

defying the draw of the ground far below

shadow glides upon the ornate and Byzantine structure

watching with calculating and brooding thoughts, upon

the light within

 

a window draws the darkness in,

a shadow betraying the warmth of the oil lamps

and the hearth of the fireplace

 

unaware

 

silence broken by the burning fireplace

path of the shadow. The flickering fire,

a feasting king.

 

teeth upon cooked flesh and bone, the squelching

of consumption, contented chortling.

 

flash of a finely polished blade,

the loudest silence

 

steel upon raw flesh and bone, the snick snick

of assassination, scared choking

 

the rise and fall

 

of his chalice

upon the floor

red wine coursing through the grout

 

red blood coursing down his neck

everything goes dark

and light

 

the bards shall write of this

the shadow retreats

claiming a victory none shall know

 

hands upon the stark stone

lights of life and slumber below

 

into the darkness the darkness flows

the cogs and wheels of the empire turn

 

a wheel has been usurped, to be replaced anew

what shall the new wheel do?

 

the shadow is heartless

those who had heart died long ago

can the shadow and light be in the same soul?

 

perhaps the king was good

 

long live the king.

 

After, in the dark.

 

---

 

Jonathan looks down from his gaze upon the stars and looks upon Yui, “And I am done. Hopefully Aegon has not caught wind of this midnight in repose. For now, I bid you good night, and good tidings.”

 

He takes her hand and gently kisses it with the flourish of a French monarch and silently slides into the garden, embracing the moonlight shadows to leave Yui in the embrace of the silent gardens.

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By the time the sun rose to conquer the blue-grey night, the Halls of the Mighty Pen were already starting to fill with sleepy-eyed figures and lively morning-goers. They drifted from their rooms into a mist-silvered morning, exchanging their quiet greetings and friendly hugs in a ritual that was quickly becoming tradition.

 

Yui watched it all from a bench in the alcove, her eyes dim and underscored by purple shadows that told the story of another sleepless night. Her lips were ghosted with the hint of a smile, and her slim hands toyed absently with the sealed lip of a small letter.

 

"Yip!" came the enthusiastic interruption from her dead-eyed revery, and her smile gained substance, her gaze shifting to the flame-colored furrball who bounded up on the bench beside her.

 

"Good morning, Daryl," she said softly, reaching out to give the fox a pat between the ears. "From the grin on your face, I'd guess that your night's hunting went well?"

 

He nodded, flicking his tail back and forth happily and leaning into her hand with a soft 'murrr'. "Yarf! Yipyip, yarf."

 

"Ah, I see," the Huntress answered with a laugh, succumbing automatically to Daryl's demands for more involved pets. She skritched between his ears, shifting as he padded over and plopped his furry rear down by her hip. "So, did you bail him out, or leave the Ranger to take care of all five of them by himself?"

 

Her smirk suggested that she already knew the answer, and it was mirrored by the were-fox's own mischevious grin. "Yiyip yap yuff," he answered, confirming her expectations.

 

Yui shook her head, tweaking one pointed, black-tipped ear in mock annoyance. "You're a scoundrel and a cheat, Daryl Carnsillion, and when Gyrfalcon gets back, you'd better not come running to me for protection. After a trick like that, you and your fuzzy little tail deserve whatever he plans to give you." The harsh words were softened by the grin she couldn't keep from her face.

 

Daryl just winked playfully and leaned into her side, demanding more pets. His golden eyes flitted about for a moment before coming to rest on the neat square of folded parchment in her lap, and he pawed at the letter, asking about it in his forthright way.

 

"Oh, that?" the young woman responded, rescuing the page from his careful claws and flipping it over to finger the simple, wax seal. "It's just a short thank-you to Jonathan. He paid off his bachelor's auction date, last night."

 

"Yarf? Yapyerf yuff?"

 

Yui shook her head, her lips once again twisting in a smirk. "No, of course not. He was every bit the gentleman and wrote me a lovely poem."

 

Cocking his head to one side, the fox pressed further, "Yuffyuff? Yipip yap yip?"

 

"Daryl!" The rather blunt question made the Huntress laugh, and once again her small friend got his ear tweaked. "No, Aegon didn't cut his tail off and stuff it ... anywhere! He didn't know about the date, and..." She placed a finger over his mouth and cold, black nose. "... you most definitely are not going to be informing him of it. Right?"

 

The threat of mischief was written in stone in the scowl she shot him. Still, like the troublemaker he was, Daryl spent a few seconds pretending to ponder that course of action. Yui folded her arms across her chest and speared him with her best 'Just you try it, mister' look, and finally he had to laugh, bowing his nose to his forepaws in a little, wordless promise.

 

"Goooood little fox," she teased condescendingly, patting his head. "You wouldn't want to deliver this for me, would you? I think a thank-you goes very well with an early-morning pounce, and goodness knows, you're better at catching Jonathan than I could ever be."

 

The werefox's eyes lit up playfully, and he nodded, yipping his enthusiasm. They both knew that if he hurried, there was even a chance that he could score that most vaunted bed-tackle that always scared the bejeezuz out of his similarly-canine friend. Every chance to one-up Jon in the stalking-and-gnawing arena was fun waiting to happen, and the thief-turned-fox had never been good at resisting an excuse to have some fun.

 

Daryl grabbed the offered letter in his teeth, holding it gently as he yurfed a muffled 'goodbye' and hopped down from the bench, racing off down the hallway. Weaving through the waking Pennites was child's play, and in moments, he was trotting to a stop in front of Jonathan Wolfe's door. A knock would have ruined the surprise, so the fox just stepped silently forward and pressed an ear against the smooth wood. On the other side, he could hear the regular cadence of his rival's sleeping breath.

 

Smiling a very evil smile, Daryl nosed the door open and crept silently into the room...

 

Ten minutes later, after a cacaphony of yipping, crashing, thumping and warfing, he left significantly more quickly, laughing as he bounded away down the hall with Jonathan's yapped curses burning the marble behind him. It was going to be a good day.

______

 

Jonathan Wolfe wurred grumpily under his breath, twitching his tail back and forth in agitation as he watched his friend-and-tormenter disappear around the corner in a flash of red tail. Oh, there would be revenge at some point, but for the moment, all he wanted was to crawl back into bed and finish his very nice dream about chasing winged rabbits.

 

Shuffling towards the mound of pillows on his human-sized bed, he almost missed the letter Daryl had tossed on the side table. He blinked, tilting his head as he sniffed at the creamy parchment.

 

"Yui?" he yipped to himself, wondering what the Elder might be writing him about. Surely, she wasn't expecting more from the bachelor's auction...?

 

Nearly as dextrous in fox-form as he was in human form, the little creature slit the seal with one claw and pressed the note open, his dark eyes slipping back and forth as he read down through the lines of scrawled handwriting.

 

Dear Jonathan,

 

I want to thank you for your company last evening and tell you how very much I enjoyed the poem you recited for me. The words you chose were perfect, just as shadowy, dark and mysterious as the assassin and the uncharacterized king, and leaving the entire situation undefined in terms of right and wrong was a winning move. I enjoyed pondering the possibilities after you'd gone, and I thank you for the novel idea of leaving the work without conclusion so that your audience can create their own with complete freedom.

 

I am honored by your attention, and I thank you for participating in the bachelor's auction. I hope I'll have a chance to win you, again, next year.

 

Sincerely,

~Yui

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