Worth

by Megg

The boy who stood before Captain Zareth in the armory was quite young as far as faeries went. He doubted that the young troll had seen his first century yet. Even so, the boy’s eyes were hard and determined, reminding him of some of the more experienced knights of the court. They were the eyes of someone who was far too stubborn to quit, despite probably being told to. The captain wasn’t sure if he liked those eyes on this particular boy.

His appearance differed from that of most trolls as well, for his skin lacked the ashen colour and his hair did not match the darker hues that his race was known for. Instead, his flesh was the colour of spring leaves, and his hair was fair; the captain knew why. His mother had been a nymph. It was who his father had been that Zareth cared more about, however.

“Sullivan, was it?” Zareth asked, despite knowing very well who the boy was. Everyone in the Seelie Court knew of him. He was the first faerie child to have been born into the court in centuries, and yet no one had celebrated it – not even his own mother. What mother would have been proud when her son had been fathered by a traitor? Zareth certainly wouldn’t have been. The very fact that Sullivan, of all the faeries in the court, was the one standing before him repulsed the captain.

“You’ve done well to come this far. You’re possibly the youngest applicant that we’ve ever had for the title of gatekeeper.” He continued.

“Thank you, sir.” the boy said, his composure rigid. His eyes followed Zareth as the captain began to circle around him until he could no longer see the older faerie without turning his head.

“Mmmm. I have one thing to ask you, Sullivan. I believe that I am correct in guessing the identity of your father.” He said, stopping in front of Sullivan once more. He saw the boy’s jaw clench slightly and had to bite back a smirk. “Why then should I give such a position to the son of a traitor? Especially considering that your father once held the position that you’re applying for now?”

“Despite who my father may be, I’m still capable of fulfilling the duties that are required of a gatekeeper.” Sullivan replied, his tone even despite the stiffness of his body. “If you would be willing to overlook my father’s betrayal, I promise not to disappoint you.”

Again, there was that look – a burning spark that Zareth might have admired if it had been in the eyes of another faerie. Instead, it only made the captain want to smother it.

“Well, you’ve certainly proven yourself thus far. There’s one more test for you to complete, however.” The captain turned away and reached for one of the broadswords hung up on the wall, lifting it up by its shining pommel.

Turning back to Sullivan, Zareth tossed the weapon towards the boy. If he was surprised, Sullivan didn’t show it, and merely caught the sword by its handle. As he looked back towards the captain, he saw that Zareth was drawing his own blade.

“All you need to do is mark me, Sullivan. Do that, and the position is yours.” Zareth could see the boy hesitating.”

“Sir, are…you sure?”

“Come now. A coward isn’t much better than a traitor’s child.”Zareth grinned as Sullivan’s face darkened at the comment. “Just a mark on me is all you’ll need.”

The troll required no further goading. The two faeries began circling around one another, eyes fixated on the opponent before them. At first, it seemed as though neither one of them would be willing to make the first move – then, Sullivan lunged forward, swinging at the captain’s ribs. Zareth leapt clear rather easily, however. He dodged the second strike that Sullivan threw at him as well without much trouble. After the third attempt, Zareth returned with a strike of his own. Sullivan jumped back to avoid the blow, but was caught in the shoulder as the captain’s sword grazed him.

“I sparred with your father like this once.” Zareth commented nonchalantly as he flicked the tip of his blade down. “You fight quite a bit like him. I wonder if you resemble him in other aspects.” The growl that Sullivan emitted at the implication was rather satisfying to the captain.

“You know, you do look quite a bit like him.” he continued while dodging another strike. “Your colouring is off, obviously, but I still see him when I look at your face. It’s a rather striking resemblance, really. Has anyone told you that before?”

The response he got from Sullivan was a snarl and a swing that he was quite certain would have rent a tree in two.

“Careful now.” the captain warned. “You seem as though you’re getting frustrated. A good swordsman should never let his temper get the better of him – perhaps that runs in the family though.”

As the exchange continued, Sullivan found himself growing increasingly frustrated. Zareth was a skilled fighter indeed, and the young troll found that he couldn’t land a strike on him. Unfortunately, his opponent didn’t seem to be having the same problem. For every hit that the captain dodged, Sullivan found another new injury on his body. It wasn’t long before the troll was covered in bleeding wounds, his strength waning. Zareth seemed to be as full of energy as ever.

“I have to say that this is rather disappointing, Sullivan.” the captain finally said. “I was told that you were rather impressive with a blade. I’ve yet to see this for myself. Perhaps you should just give up now.”

Sullivan found himself slow to react as Zareth suddenly sprinted forward, the loss of blood having made him rather dizzy by this point. As such, the young troll wasn’t able to raise his sword in time to block as the captain thrust his blade into his shoulder and sent him to the ground. A strangled cry ripped from the boy’s throat as the sword was pushed in further, pinning him to the ground – it wouldn’t be enough to kill a troll, but it was still just as agonizing.

“I suppose that I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up though.” Zareth twisted the blade, prompting another yell from the boy. “The child of a backstabber has no more worth than his father.”

Something flashed in Sullivan’s eyes, and Zareth pulled his sword free to block the strike that he anticipated would come from the boy’s sword. What he wasn’t expecting was for Sullivan’s blade to remain still. As such, he was shocked when pain bit into the left side of his face. Leaping back and off of his opponent, Zareth reached up to touch his cheek, wiping a bit of blood from the new wound.

As he looked back over at Sullivan, he saw a crimson substance on the boy’s claws.