[ficlet] Escaflowne - "He Did Not Drop"
Apr. 16th, 2015 05:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
konstantyaTitle: He Did Not Drop
Fandom: Escaflowne
Genre: AU, drama, general?
Characters: Folken, Eries.
Rating: PG-13, for implied blood and injury.
Word count: 327
Summary: Based on a tumblr prompt: "[FolkenxEries] She was the last person he had expected and yet, once the initial shock had worn off, he felt immensely relieved that she was the first to find him alive." (The idea was that someone sent you a pairing and one sentence, and then you wrote the next fiveonly I went way over that, oops.)
"Oh, gods," she said, her normally placid features overcome with alarm. He could feel her hands on his face and his body being lifted…somewhere. On something. A stretcher, probably, he thought.
"Princess Eries," he rasped, realizing he was still naked from the waist up, "I must apologize for my state of undress."
Despite the situation, she made some noise, some sort of disbelieving laugh, and dryly said, "I think unusual priorities must run in your family."
He managed to crack a smile, himself—until he was jostled in some way, that was, and the smile turned into a wince. He could still feel the sword tip embedded in his chest. Apparently it had missed his heart, but it seemed to be lodged in between his ribs something fierce. He worried it had punctured a lung. Breathing was difficult. Keeping his eyes open was just ever so slightly less difficult, and he tried to stay focused on her face hovering above his. Though it would appear that he had cheated fate in its most literal sense, that wasn't to say he wasn't still on his deathbed, and he could think of far worse things to see before dying than her concerned features. In a way, it was soothing—the dark blue of her eyes, the smooth planes of her cheeks, the softness of her hands—and he was too tired to care about the fact that he probably didn't deserve the comfort, small though it was.
"I fear I've made a terrible mess of things, Princess," he said, the urge to apologize coming hard and fast due to the uncertainty of his condition, but she shushed him, even going so far as to put her fingers on his lips.
"There will be plenty enough time for that," she said, the familiar cool, firm Second Princess of Asturia making an appearance, "but for now, you are to save your strength until we can get you to a doctor."
-----
A/N: So yeah. Nothing big, but there you have it. ^^
June 5th, 2021 edit: Originally this was untitled, but since I've officially cross-posted it to AO3 now, I gave it a formal title, taken from Emily Dickinson's poem, "Fate slew Him, but He did not drop." Fitting for Folken in this, no? ;)
All other fics can be found here.
Fandom: Escaflowne
Genre: AU, drama, general?
Characters: Folken, Eries.
Rating: PG-13, for implied blood and injury.
Word count: 327
Summary: Based on a tumblr prompt: "[FolkenxEries] She was the last person he had expected and yet, once the initial shock had worn off, he felt immensely relieved that she was the first to find him alive." (The idea was that someone sent you a pairing and one sentence, and then you wrote the next five
"Oh, gods," she said, her normally placid features overcome with alarm. He could feel her hands on his face and his body being lifted…somewhere. On something. A stretcher, probably, he thought.
"Princess Eries," he rasped, realizing he was still naked from the waist up, "I must apologize for my state of undress."
Despite the situation, she made some noise, some sort of disbelieving laugh, and dryly said, "I think unusual priorities must run in your family."
He managed to crack a smile, himself—until he was jostled in some way, that was, and the smile turned into a wince. He could still feel the sword tip embedded in his chest. Apparently it had missed his heart, but it seemed to be lodged in between his ribs something fierce. He worried it had punctured a lung. Breathing was difficult. Keeping his eyes open was just ever so slightly less difficult, and he tried to stay focused on her face hovering above his. Though it would appear that he had cheated fate in its most literal sense, that wasn't to say he wasn't still on his deathbed, and he could think of far worse things to see before dying than her concerned features. In a way, it was soothing—the dark blue of her eyes, the smooth planes of her cheeks, the softness of her hands—and he was too tired to care about the fact that he probably didn't deserve the comfort, small though it was.
"I fear I've made a terrible mess of things, Princess," he said, the urge to apologize coming hard and fast due to the uncertainty of his condition, but she shushed him, even going so far as to put her fingers on his lips.
"There will be plenty enough time for that," she said, the familiar cool, firm Second Princess of Asturia making an appearance, "but for now, you are to save your strength until we can get you to a doctor."
-----
A/N: So yeah. Nothing big, but there you have it. ^^
June 5th, 2021 edit: Originally this was untitled, but since I've officially cross-posted it to AO3 now, I gave it a formal title, taken from Emily Dickinson's poem, "Fate slew Him, but He did not drop." Fitting for Folken in this, no? ;)
All other fics can be found here.
