Alfred realized that it might not have been such a good idea to have said that. But there wasn’t really any going back now though, was there? “Well, yeah, I guess, but I’m a nation, so I’ll just come back to life again. I’m not fae.” Alfred looked down at his hands. He was trembling slightly, and only in his right hand, but it was still there. These dwarves didn’t stand for any show of weakness. If he stumbled now, made the wrong turn, they would eat him alive, figuratively. He closed his eyes for a moment. Could everyone hear his heart pounding in his ears as he could? Beating like a hammer? He supposed that was the problem, that it was still beating. Help, he’s alive, his heart’s still beating. His pulse was on a runaway train. It was gallows humor – literally. But he was still alive; his regrets about this whole thing were few. It was his life, and why shouldn’t he be alive? He’d get wherever he was going, he’d get whatever he needed, at least while his blood was still flowing, in all its iron potency. His thoughts raced, disorganized, as he struggled to marshal them.
Disorganization needs work. Too similar sentence structure.
He didn’t notice the still almost complete silence until the judge broke it. “I remember the stories of when my grandmother would speak of the humans and – “ she paused, and Alfred suddenly saw her age, that she was simply as old as he was and much worse for wear. “You are like the one they call Britannia, are you not?”
Alfred nodded, glad he wouldn’t have to explain anymore. “Yeah, that’s it, that’s it exactly.”
And suddenly there was the screech of metal and hundreds of weapons were drawn at once. One of the dwarves closest to Alfred spoke, rage filled and disgusted “Fae” and spat on the ground at Alfred’s feet.
Oh god, he needed to talk, and talk fast. “God, I’m not fae! Just look at me! I have no magic, none whatsoever, not drop!”
The assembled dwarves looked to the judge. She stared at Alfred for a good thirty seconds, but it wasn’t exactly staring exactly, and it was so weird and just… finally she held up a small scrap of glass or mirror or something, and then looked back at him. “He speaks the truth.” She eventually said. “He is not fae.” Everyone relaxed slightly, and about half of the weapons were sheathed. However, that still left hundreds of weapons out and pointed at him. “How then, if you are not fae, do you not die? I saw no evidence of a curse, like this one.” She gestured at Aengus with a wave.
Alfred opened his mouth slowly, haltingly, unsure of how to say everything. “We can die, nations, it just takes a lot, and a lot happening to our physical lands in addition to our bodies. We’re not exactly sure ourselves how the whole thing works. And you don’t want to go through the effort.” Alfred said quickly, remembering with perfect clarity just how warlike everything was around here. “My country has over 350 million people in it, who would have to be destroyed before I would die. My people would resist you every step of the way, and most of them are armed. I have weapons that can kill millions with a push of a button. Humans have advanced a lot since you last walked the earth. Don’t try to kill me just for trespassing. I am the personification of the country, and age and grow and die as my people do.”
“So you are immortal then?” All the dwarves looked at him closely, and he felt this was the grand test. Gosh he hoped he had the right answer.
“We don’t know. Perhaps. I know of many who’ve died, but then again I know others who’ve lived for millennia, and I’m young in comparison to a lot of others. I’m only four hundred years old or so.” Alfred had eyes for no one but the judge.
Crowe END/h
Disorganization needs work. Too similar sentence structure.
He didn’t notice the still almost complete silence until the judge broke it. “I remember the stories of when my grandmother would speak of the humans and – “ she paused, and Alfred suddenly saw her age, that she was simply as old as he was and much worse for wear. “You are like the one they call Britannia, are you not?”
Alfred nodded, glad he wouldn’t have to explain anymore. “Yeah, that’s it, that’s it exactly.”
And suddenly there was the screech of metal and hundreds of weapons were drawn at once. One of the dwarves closest to Alfred spoke, rage filled and disgusted “Fae” and spat on the ground at Alfred’s feet.
Oh god, he needed to talk, and talk fast. “God, I’m not fae! Just look at me! I have no magic, none whatsoever, not drop!”
The assembled dwarves looked to the judge. She stared at Alfred for a good thirty seconds, but it wasn’t exactly staring exactly, and it was so weird and just… finally she held up a small scrap of glass or mirror or something, and then looked back at him. “He speaks the truth.” She eventually said. “He is not fae.” Everyone relaxed slightly, and about half of the weapons were sheathed. However, that still left hundreds of weapons out and pointed at him. “How then, if you are not fae, do you not die? I saw no evidence of a curse, like this one.” She gestured at Aengus with a wave.
Alfred opened his mouth slowly, haltingly, unsure of how to say everything. “We can die, nations, it just takes a lot, and a lot happening to our physical lands in addition to our bodies. We’re not exactly sure ourselves how the whole thing works. And you don’t want to go through the effort.” Alfred said quickly, remembering with perfect clarity just how warlike everything was around here. “My country has over 350 million people in it, who would have to be destroyed before I would die. My people would resist you every step of the way, and most of them are armed. I have weapons that can kill millions with a push of a button. Humans have advanced a lot since you last walked the earth. Don’t try to kill me just for trespassing. I am the personification of the country, and age and grow and die as my people do.”
“So you are immortal then?” All the dwarves looked at him closely, and he felt this was the grand test. Gosh he hoped he had the right answer.
“We don’t know. Perhaps. I know of many who’ve died, but then again I know others who’ve lived for millennia, and I’m young in comparison to a lot of others. I’m only four hundred years old or so.” Alfred had eyes for no one but the judge.