Post by Yuiven on Feb 18, 2008 16:43:42 GMT -5
Seconds seemed to drag on for an eternity as Captain Kaven deliberated over the petition provided by the prospective recruit. While waiting for the verdict, Beowulf unconsciously leaned forward in anticipation, unable to repress a shiver that went down the length of his spine, causing him to shake slightly. He already had his suspicions about the outcome of the decision, but refused to get his hopes up, just in case they might be shattered into a million little pieces. Truth be told, he hadn't spent a lot of time composing a long and eloquent speech before taking off for Hearts Palace in search of an army liaison. Instead he had given a last-minute explanation of his brave deeds and good intentions, wisely omitting portions he wished to keep to himself; such as his friendship with an Ace of Hearts and the confrontation with a mythical beast. When the time was right, he'd explain everything. For now, it would have to do.
Beowulf listened to Captain Kaven, processing the words over and over in his mind until he realized that the miracle had occurred; he had been accepted! As the realization sunk in, azure eyes lit up brightly like fireworks exploding across the sky. Tempting as it was to whoop in triumph and perform a victory dance right then and there, he managed to restrain himself to just grinning so widely it hurt. After all was said and done, he was an outsider- a vagabond -who hadn't gone through proper channels. He knew he had what it took to be a soldier. Safe in that knowledge, he never gave in even though the odds were stacked against him. He fought until the end and was now reaping spoils of victory.
Beowulf got a second chance.
One blue eye fixed upon Captain Kaven, following the Sorgaire Range lion as he strode past him. As soon as the captain was out of sight, Beowulf blinked, settling his gaze back on the monarch, and toning down his grin to a smile. There was a profound silence while he regarded Queen Serafino. That very man who sat before him, someone that Beowulf never in his life would have ever dreamed of seeing, let alone speaking to.
Then His Majesty's congratulations broke the silence between them. Although Beowulf was pleased to hear it, he also knew a dismissal when he heard one. Nary rustling a feather, he bowed once more, spreading his wings to show respect towards the Queen, and uttered a simple phrase that wholly expressed the gratitude of the Hearts military's newest solider. "Thank you, Your Majesty"
Rising swiftly, Beowulf brought himself to attention, did an about-face, and carried himself to the door with all the dignity of a well-disciplined soldier.
Beowulf listened to Captain Kaven, processing the words over and over in his mind until he realized that the miracle had occurred; he had been accepted! As the realization sunk in, azure eyes lit up brightly like fireworks exploding across the sky. Tempting as it was to whoop in triumph and perform a victory dance right then and there, he managed to restrain himself to just grinning so widely it hurt. After all was said and done, he was an outsider- a vagabond -who hadn't gone through proper channels. He knew he had what it took to be a soldier. Safe in that knowledge, he never gave in even though the odds were stacked against him. He fought until the end and was now reaping spoils of victory.
Beowulf got a second chance.
One blue eye fixed upon Captain Kaven, following the Sorgaire Range lion as he strode past him. As soon as the captain was out of sight, Beowulf blinked, settling his gaze back on the monarch, and toning down his grin to a smile. There was a profound silence while he regarded Queen Serafino. That very man who sat before him, someone that Beowulf never in his life would have ever dreamed of seeing, let alone speaking to.
Then His Majesty's congratulations broke the silence between them. Although Beowulf was pleased to hear it, he also knew a dismissal when he heard one. Nary rustling a feather, he bowed once more, spreading his wings to show respect towards the Queen, and uttered a simple phrase that wholly expressed the gratitude of the Hearts military's newest solider. "Thank you, Your Majesty"
Rising swiftly, Beowulf brought himself to attention, did an about-face, and carried himself to the door with all the dignity of a well-disciplined soldier.
