literature

Consequences

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

Ghebaas Morvin paced the length of his room, his boots tapping sharply on the floor. The sparse furnishings were making the small room feel crowded to him, his mind trying to keep a hold on calm. His legs moved faster, turning him back and forth in a pattern, a small sense of order in the quickly diminishing order of his life. He tried the doorknob again, even though it was the fifth time he tried to open the door since he was put here. As before, it was locked. Bororg was also closed to him, the dragon not responding to his calls. He knew he was still near, their bond telling him that at least. He wasn’t sure at this point if even that was safest for the dragon. He should have gone after the others, stayed near his dragon as they had. Then the two would be out of this place, this crowded, small place full of poison.
He jolted to a halt as he heard a key turn in the lock. Quickly schooling his face to one of calm, he folded his hands behind his back so their shaking wouldn’t be seen. The door opened, and he took one step back as his father, Hyral Morvin, stepped in. Ghebaas noted the two guards standing beside the open door on either side. He glanced at his father’s face, but quickly looked to the floor, unable to meet his eyes. Hyral sighed slowly, staring at his son. So much potential, if only he would listen.
“Ghebaas. Your mother has been confined to house arrest,” Hyral said, pausing to note Ghebaas’ lips tightening, his gaze narrowing as he tried to keep control of his expression. “I hope I will not have to keep you in here, hmm?” Ghebaas looked up then, his expression blank. Hyral frowned, recognizing that look. It was the same Dyora had used, when he notified her of her arrest. “Come with me.” He turned on his heel, sweeping out the door, not waiting to see if Ghebaas followed. He knew he would.

Ghebaas did not know where they were going, until they turned down his parents’ corridor. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he realized he would at least be able to see his mother, and she could give him any cue of what to do next. He waited as his father opened the door, then stepped in after him, their two guards again waiting outside the room. Dyora Morvin was seated at her desk, her chair turned to face the door. Her expression was more controlled then Ghebaas, her face unreadable.
“I had thought you would leave me alone, Hyral,” she stated, not looking at her husband. Her gaze flickered to Ghebaas, her brow furrowed. Hyral smiled to catch even that slightest hint of her control slipping.
“I know things have fallen apart with the Iukans, but I need to know that your dragon won’t be causing any problems out there,” Hyral said, his hands clasped behind his back. Ghebaas inwardly flinched, recognizing that movement as one of his own.
“I released Fargo, knowing you would cause him trouble,” was her only reply, her expression closing again.
Hyral shook his head, catching her lie as she knew he would. “Dyora, I know I cannot force you, or threaten you yourself. You have far too much resolve for that. But there is the matter of our son,” he said, yanking Ghebaas forward by the arm. Despite Ghebaas being of the same height, his father still always seemed to tower over him. Dyora looked up quickly, not trying to hide her shock, or anger. “I will use him against you, even if I have to hurt him in order to be sure you’ll not cause more of this trouble.” He took Ghebaas’ other arm in his hand, forcing his son to face him, both of his hands clamped on his upper arms. “And you, Ghebaas. I will hurt your mother if you go after your friends. Your mother, or your dragon.”
Dyora stood, her eyes blazing with anger. “You will not touch his dragon, Hyral, you know the rules-”
Hyral raised his hand, his anger matching hers. “Iukans who are bonded to dragons and betray their kind are more answerable than those who aren’t bonded! They not only betrayed their fellow elves, but their dragons too!” He looked at Ghebaas, his hands tightening. “You won’t betray your dragon, will you Ghebaas?”
Ghebas stared at a seam on Hyral’s jacket, his expression remote. He didn’t resist his father’s grip. Dyora’s heart sank into grief as she knew they were both trapped. Not only had she failed as her duty as General, but she had failed her duty as a mother. She did nothing as Hyral patted her son’s shoulder, a smile on his face as he reassured Ghebaas things will be alright. She did nothing as Ghebaas walked out the door, not looking back, as Hyral smiled at her in triumph. He not only won this game, but won their son. As the door closed behind her husband, she closed off her expression. Turning towards the window, she steeled herself, relying on the logic of her mind to control the turmoil in her heart. She would save Ghebaas. She would save those young Generals who had gotten caught up in her husband’s ploy for power. She would save Hyral from himself.




Ghebaas followed the path back to the cave were Bororg recovered. The dragon hadn’t moved from the spot in the back, his black scales hidden in the shadow. Ghebaas frowned as silver glinted in the light of his torch. “Bororg?” He stepped forward, but paused when he heard Bororg’s low growl. Holding his arm higher, his face paled as the light revealed his dragon.
Shackles circled the dragons hind legs, chains pegged into the walls. His wings were pinned to his side in a harness, his muzzle strapped shut. Bororg’s eyes were wide, his pupils dilated even in the bright light of his torch. His arm dropped, the torch falling to the stone floor. Bororg coiled back, staring at Ghebaas as if he didn’t know him. Ghebaas tried to touch his dragon’s mind, but even mentally he reared back from him. “Bororg…” He stumbled back, coming up against the wall. Leaning back, his knees gave out and he sank to the floor. Putting a shaking hand to his face, he tried to calm his breathing that was quickening by the moment. Panic rose from his gut to his chest, his hand pressed against his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut. Clutching both hands to either side of his head, he bent over, the panic consuming him like some monster inside. It squirmed its way from the deepest part of him, clutching his heart, his mind, his soul, his entire being. His eyes filled with black, the darkness so complete he thought he had gone blind. He realized then, that the darkness was… comforting.

Ghebaas!

He jerked awake, his eye snapping open. Clutching his chest as he tried to regain his breathing, he leaned limp against the wall. When his breathing stabilized, his vision slowly focused. Bororg was across the cave, the firelight from the fallen torch illuminating his eyes. His pupils were back to normal, and Ghebaas could feel the familiar touch of his dragon’s mind. Only feeling was being transmitted, Bororg’s worry and fear evident in the posture of his body as well as the signals from their mental bond.
Ghebaas pulled himself up, using the wall for support. His legs took some time to respond, but he made his way over to his dragon, and knelt down, leaning his head against one shoulder in the crook of his wing. Bororg’s muzzle brushed Ghebaas’ back, both realizing this was the first time they had ever shared any kind of comfort with the other. Ghebaas closed his eyes, letting the heat from Bororg lull him into a soft and gentle sleep, even as the tears fell down his cheeks.
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Ghebaas' fate after he and a couple other Generals got in over their heads. Some stuff's going down and.....
His dad's a dick.
Yeah.

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:iconelvenlegends:
Character (c) SillyWritings
© 2015 - 2024 SillyWritings
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Malusdraco's avatar
holy moly ghebaas has it rough
nice work!