NaNoWriMo Story Snippets

37. Excerpt from KINSHIP OF RINGS

Author's note: Since I didn't get many one-shot requests, I'm sort of bouncing between other requests and seeing whatever grabs me. KINSHIP OF RINGS will (eventually, hopefully) be a BREAKER OF RINGS prequel about The Shield (like how OATH OF RINGS focussed on the Four Horsewomen), but the first few scenes are more about Hunter. That may change during editing.

The problem with finding religion, Hunter often felt, was that you were in danger of losing yourself. Shawn hadn't quite reached that point, but there were times when he had come close. But he had almost lost himself before as well, and Hunter had managed to pull him back from the brink. If he had to do it again, this time from a god rather than internal demons, he would do so. At least his current obsession made him easy to find. There were plenty of places around McMahon Castle to drink, but only one place of worship, so that was where Hunter headed after sharing the morning meal with King Vincent and Stephanie.

As Hunter thought, Shawn was already in the prayer hall, kneeling on the floor, though he half-rose when he heard the doors open. Still a warrior at heart, Hunter thought with a spark of hope as he saw his friend's hand instinctively reach for a sword hilt that no longer graced his belt. "Shawn," he said warmly, sitting across from his friend. "How are you?"

"Healthy," Shawn replied. "Blessed. You look.... pensive, my friend." With a lurch, Shawn rose to his feet. Years of battles—both internal and external—had taken their toll, but he remained one of the strongest, most steadfast men Hunter knew. "What troubles you?"

"Do you have time for a walk?" Hunter asked. He wasn't trying to avoid Shawn's question, but the prayer hall had never been his favourite place to linger, not even after Stephanie had snuck him inside to have sex on the altar after a priest had annoyed her earlier that particular day.

"Of course." Shawn dusted off his pants and gestured for Hunter to lead the way. "So when are you and Princess Stephanie to be wed?" he asked, trying to keep his voice as level as possible. He didn't approve of Stephanie and the feeling, Hunter knew, was mutual. Stephanie tolerated Shawn because he was Hunter's oldest friend and closest ally, but she had made it clear that he was going to hold no sway in her court. "You must be busy with the preparations, I presume, or else you would have come to visit me earlier."

Hunter took the subtle jab in stride, smiling as they left the prayer hall and walked down the street. "The wedding is still months away. Plenty of time for you to clean up this scruff," he teased, pulling on Shawn's raggedy beard, "and make yourself presentable."

Shawn shook his head with a mixture of wariness and wonder. "My friend, my brother, marrying into the royal family. And you say there's no greater power at work."

No power but power, Hunter thought, but he kept it to himself. He was there to get Shawn's advice—and hopefully his support—so antagonizing him wouldn't help his cause. "The world is a strange beast, my friend. And speaking of strange creatures, I need to find some."

"No." Shawn shook his head emphatically. "No more dragons." He pointed to the scar that distorted the skin by his left eye. "You know how long it took for my hair to grow back. I'm not going through that all over again."

"You call this hair?" Hunter ruffled his friend's locks, or at least what remained of them. Though Shawn remained young at heart, his body had not followed suit, and his battles with his personal demons had made their mark on his body. "No wonder you spend so much time praying. It lets you hide all your bald spots."

Shawn reached up and covered Hunter's face with his hand. "No prayer in the world can hide that nose, my friend." When he pulled his hand away, he was smiling. "What troubles you? Second thoughts about the marriage?"

Hunter tried not to hear the note of hope in Shawn's voice. He wished Stephanie and Shawn, the two people dearest to him in the world, could get along, but strained civility seemed to be the best they could do. "No. I'm trying to think of ways to prove myself to King Vincent."

"Prove...?" Shawn slowed to a stop. They were on the outskirts of the market now, far enough away from the scant crowds that they didn't have to worry about being overheard. If anyone was inclined to shuffle closer and try to eavesdrop, one look at Hunter's sword generally dissuaded them. "Hunter, what could you possibly have left to prove? He's letting you marry his daughter. He's basically said that you and Stephanie will be ruling the kingdom after him. He sends you on his... quests," Shawn managed, grimacing at the word, "trusting you in the worst battles to win him the best land. You've more than proven yourself to that tyrant."

"It's all been on his terms," Hunter countered, "using his men, his resources. I want my own."

Shawn barely stifled a groan. "And you'll have them, Hunter! In time. You haven't even married the princess yet. Once it's official, you'll be named Commander, I'm sure—"

Hunter knew Shawn had a keen mind for logic, but he could also be long-winded. "What do you know about elementals, Shawn?" He figured those of a religious persuasion would likely go one of two ways: they would either consider elementals some sort of messengers from god, or they would think they were monsters, abominations, things to be hunted down and destroyed. No matter how they perceived elementals, they would probably have a vested interest in finding them.