(no subject)
Title: A Pity
Author: naturalbluicons
Characters/Pairing: Ambrose, Azkadellia
Rating: PG (to be safe)
Summary: "Her eyes were as remote as they were dry, her mouth quirked into a semblance of a frown. It was as if the expression was studied and practiced, copied from a picture out of a book. "What a pity," her face said. A pity."
Warning: none
Disclaimer: I don't own Tin Man, I'm just playing in the Outer Zone
Word Count: 508
Notes: My first Tin Man fic, and really my first fic since I was like thirteen! Lots of thanks to my lovely beta, eleanor_ariail who helped me to make my thoughts more eloquent! This may be the first of more little fics as I have a good number of little details of personal canon floating around in my noggin. Hope you like it! =)
The stone was cold and unfeeling to the grief that surrounded it. It simply stated the truth, without a trace of gentleness; the young princess was dead. Ambrose knew though that even if stone were capable of being gentle, it would not ease the hearts of the gathered people. It wouldn't erase the grief. It couldn't. The ground was open before him. On the other side, his queen stood, tears falling from her lavender eyes. Still, she stood strong, her dignity never faltering. At her side, one arm wrapped around her, stood Ahamo. The tears streamed from his eyes, his shoulders trembled. DG had been so like her father, they could all see it even at her young age. The very land of the Outer Zone seemed to grieve with them. The trees in the fields of the Papay were withering, and the sky was dark. Even Ambrose closed his eyes to the gaping hole before him, the hole that had swallowed up little DG and now waited to be filled with earth once more.
Gathering himself, Ambrose opened his eyes again. He knew that death was a part of the cycle of life, unavoidable, but to happen to a girl so young and so completely filled with life? His eyes moved to Azkadellia who stood at the Queen's other side. Azkadellia did not weep. Not a single tear. Her eyes were as remote as they were dry, her mouth quirked into a semblance of a frown. It was as if the expression was studied and practiced, copied from a picture out of a book. "What a pity," her face said. A pity. The expression sent a chill through Ambrose. DG had been Azkadellia's companion, her sister, her best friend. He couldn't count the times he had been engrossed in some arduous task, only to be interrupted by the giggling girls. He'd shoo them off before they could set their plots of mischief into action, but they'd just stifle their laughter and run off, hand in hand, no doubt to cause trouble elsewhere. Who was this girl that stood beside the queen? It couldn't be the Azkadellia that he'd watched grow up. Had DG's death destroyed her? Was she just a numb, hollow shell of the girl she'd been?
He looked away, a tight feeling in his chest as though his heart was clenching with some sense of dread. The mourners were slowly leaving, some pausing by the royal family, murmuring their soft condolences. A noble or two squeezed Azkadellia's shoulder trying to pass on some comfort, but her cold gaze never once left the headstone.
As the last people disappeared through the graveyard's gates, Ambrose moved around the grave and placed a hand on the Queen's shoulder.
"Majesty..." His voice was soft; he didn't know what to say. What advice could he give her? How could he show her any comfort?
"I know," she whispered, placing a hand over his and closing her eyes.
No one noticed the small smile of triumph that played on Azkadellia's lips.
Author: naturalbluicons
Characters/Pairing: Ambrose, Azkadellia
Rating: PG (to be safe)
Summary: "Her eyes were as remote as they were dry, her mouth quirked into a semblance of a frown. It was as if the expression was studied and practiced, copied from a picture out of a book. "What a pity," her face said. A pity."
Warning: none
Disclaimer: I don't own Tin Man, I'm just playing in the Outer Zone
Word Count: 508
Notes: My first Tin Man fic, and really my first fic since I was like thirteen! Lots of thanks to my lovely beta, eleanor_ariail who helped me to make my thoughts more eloquent! This may be the first of more little fics as I have a good number of little details of personal canon floating around in my noggin. Hope you like it! =)
The stone was cold and unfeeling to the grief that surrounded it. It simply stated the truth, without a trace of gentleness; the young princess was dead. Ambrose knew though that even if stone were capable of being gentle, it would not ease the hearts of the gathered people. It wouldn't erase the grief. It couldn't. The ground was open before him. On the other side, his queen stood, tears falling from her lavender eyes. Still, she stood strong, her dignity never faltering. At her side, one arm wrapped around her, stood Ahamo. The tears streamed from his eyes, his shoulders trembled. DG had been so like her father, they could all see it even at her young age. The very land of the Outer Zone seemed to grieve with them. The trees in the fields of the Papay were withering, and the sky was dark. Even Ambrose closed his eyes to the gaping hole before him, the hole that had swallowed up little DG and now waited to be filled with earth once more.
Gathering himself, Ambrose opened his eyes again. He knew that death was a part of the cycle of life, unavoidable, but to happen to a girl so young and so completely filled with life? His eyes moved to Azkadellia who stood at the Queen's other side. Azkadellia did not weep. Not a single tear. Her eyes were as remote as they were dry, her mouth quirked into a semblance of a frown. It was as if the expression was studied and practiced, copied from a picture out of a book. "What a pity," her face said. A pity. The expression sent a chill through Ambrose. DG had been Azkadellia's companion, her sister, her best friend. He couldn't count the times he had been engrossed in some arduous task, only to be interrupted by the giggling girls. He'd shoo them off before they could set their plots of mischief into action, but they'd just stifle their laughter and run off, hand in hand, no doubt to cause trouble elsewhere. Who was this girl that stood beside the queen? It couldn't be the Azkadellia that he'd watched grow up. Had DG's death destroyed her? Was she just a numb, hollow shell of the girl she'd been?
He looked away, a tight feeling in his chest as though his heart was clenching with some sense of dread. The mourners were slowly leaving, some pausing by the royal family, murmuring their soft condolences. A noble or two squeezed Azkadellia's shoulder trying to pass on some comfort, but her cold gaze never once left the headstone.
As the last people disappeared through the graveyard's gates, Ambrose moved around the grave and placed a hand on the Queen's shoulder.
"Majesty..." His voice was soft; he didn't know what to say. What advice could he give her? How could he show her any comfort?
"I know," she whispered, placing a hand over his and closing her eyes.
No one noticed the small smile of triumph that played on Azkadellia's lips.