Ratonhnhaké:ton/Connor Kenway (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lifethatisscratched) wrote2015-05-01 10:03 pm
lifethatisscratched) wrote2015-05-01 10:03 pm
The Interim
It has been a day since the burning, and they are still recovering bodies.
It takes three of the clan’s strongest warriors to lift the timber off Mother. The fire has not touched her like it has others – her skin is marked only by soot, the air having scorched her lungs.
Ratonhnhaké:ton stands rooted to the spot, his feet leaden and mind blank. It is only when she falls limp in their arms that he collapses to his knees.
It has been a year since the burning, and they have finished rebuilding.
Their longhouse has been removed, and Kanen’tó:kon’s family has taken him in. They whisper about him when they think he is not listening – of his father, of his mother, how best to let him cope.
Nothing ever comes of it.
It has been four years since the burning, and the forest becomes a refuge for him once more.
It is where he can gather his thoughts as he climbs through the treetops and runs along the branches, away from the others. He begins to carry a knife, ostensibly for animals, but he is constantly on the lookout for the men beyond the valley that came here on that day so long ago.
It has been seven years since the burning, and it is the winter of his first hunt.
He stalks the deer as instructed by the warriors, his every footstep silent in the snow, his breath fogging in the early morning mist.
Except when he draws back his bow and aims, he murmurs “nia:wen”, and the deer bolts before he can loose his arrow.
It is only the first of many lessons.
It has been ten years since the burning, and Clan Mother is already in talks with many other clans to send him away to be married. He is an attractive prospect – lean, agile, an excellent hunter and fighter, and of striking features.
But he has no interest in any of these things. There is something burning in him, a desire for him, for them, to do something about those beyond the valley. The reminder that they are the valley’s protectors falls upon stubborn ears – all the more reason, he says, for them to venture beyond it, that they might foil the plots of those attempting to seize it.
He is pushing her towards her wit’s end. She can only hope that his brashness is not the equal of his stubbornness.
It takes three of the clan’s strongest warriors to lift the timber off Mother. The fire has not touched her like it has others – her skin is marked only by soot, the air having scorched her lungs.
Ratonhnhaké:ton stands rooted to the spot, his feet leaden and mind blank. It is only when she falls limp in their arms that he collapses to his knees.
It has been a year since the burning, and they have finished rebuilding.
Their longhouse has been removed, and Kanen’tó:kon’s family has taken him in. They whisper about him when they think he is not listening – of his father, of his mother, how best to let him cope.
Nothing ever comes of it.
It has been four years since the burning, and the forest becomes a refuge for him once more.
It is where he can gather his thoughts as he climbs through the treetops and runs along the branches, away from the others. He begins to carry a knife, ostensibly for animals, but he is constantly on the lookout for the men beyond the valley that came here on that day so long ago.
It has been seven years since the burning, and it is the winter of his first hunt.
He stalks the deer as instructed by the warriors, his every footstep silent in the snow, his breath fogging in the early morning mist.
Except when he draws back his bow and aims, he murmurs “nia:wen”, and the deer bolts before he can loose his arrow.
It is only the first of many lessons.
It has been ten years since the burning, and Clan Mother is already in talks with many other clans to send him away to be married. He is an attractive prospect – lean, agile, an excellent hunter and fighter, and of striking features.
But he has no interest in any of these things. There is something burning in him, a desire for him, for them, to do something about those beyond the valley. The reminder that they are the valley’s protectors falls upon stubborn ears – all the more reason, he says, for them to venture beyond it, that they might foil the plots of those attempting to seize it.
He is pushing her towards her wit’s end. She can only hope that his brashness is not the equal of his stubbornness.