This is my first series of drabbles. I'm gonna try to do one a day. Hopefully my muse won't kill itself. Its gonna be from A to Z.
Rooftop to rooftop, he jumped and ran. His feet gracefully landing on each roof without so much as a sound.
Gods, he loved this.
The exhileration of it all.
It made him feel alive.
He flipped and jumped and twirled like one of those acrobatic performers he had seen in the circus when he was child in Eddis. Feats that should have been impossible for a one armed man, let alone a drunken one armed man, he did with accuracy and precision.
He felt like the Thief of Eddis again with that deadly glint in his eye and cat-like grace. He had so longed for that feeling to return to him. He almost ached for that excitement to make his heart hammer in his chest once more. The thrill of almost being caught but escaping at the last moment.
He could feel the alchohol numbing his thoughts. He was glad of it. He had been thinking a little too much lately.
Too much about Irene.
Too much about being king.
He jumped another crenallation and staggered at the landing. There he went again, thinking too much. He held the wineskin firmly in his hand and took another gulp. He snickered to himself as if to a private joke.
He looked up into the night sky and wondered. He wondered why his gods had stuck him in such a place. Such a godforsaken hell called Attolia. The only reason he had even agreed to be king was to have Irene. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Between his love for Irene and his fear of taking power from her.
And so he resisted being king. Resisted it with all his might.
So he had tried to play the part of the fool and it had worked. They thought of him as a goatfooted barbarian who had forced the Queen to marry him and had no right to the throne. That was just the way he liked it. Gods bedamned if they found out what he was really capable of. But this had not lasted long. No matter hard he tried to feign ignorance and stupidity, things kept occurring that forced him to reveal himself for who truly was. Such as the murdering of the assassins and the fall of the House of Erondites.
He looked down at the wineskin. Damn it all. It wasn't working. He had come up here to forget and he was thinking more than ever. He downed another drink of wine.
He ran and jumped yet another crenallation. He swung and staggered. Maybe it was a bit too much wine. He took another swig. Hell with it, he drunk already anyway.
His ears caught someone coming up onto the roof. He smiled as he heard the voice. It was Costis. His shining knight in armor here to rescue him and force him back to bed. Maybe tonight wouldn't be so boring after all.
He took another guzzle from the wineskin.
A/N: Review and Gen will do a backflip.