My brother said I hadn't /sufficiently/ described this scene. Bearing in mind Tennyson and the word limit, he obliged! ~:~ Upon the wall a guardsman stood His name was Costis, true and good His quilted doublet strong and thick His sword was steady, bright and quick But ‘neath his jerkin lurked the fire Of temper hot and grievance dire.
Their Queen a Thief had stole away, One damned and ne’er forgotten day And then, as all Attolia knew, Presumptuously he did her woo, Forced or bewitched her – who could guess? To make her word a fateful “Yes.”
He took the Queen, he took the throne, He made Attolia his own, The barons knelt and pledged their troth, The Queen’s Guard too (and both were wrath) This was their king – to every look, A printer’s boy – with iron hook?
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Addendum :)
Date: 2/28/17 08:41 am (UTC)~:~
Upon the wall a guardsman stood
His name was Costis, true and good
His quilted doublet strong and thick
His sword was steady, bright and quick
But ‘neath his jerkin lurked the fire
Of temper hot and grievance dire.
Their Queen a Thief had stole away,
One damned and ne’er forgotten day
And then, as all Attolia knew,
Presumptuously he did her woo,
Forced or bewitched her – who could guess?
To make her word a fateful “Yes.”
He took the Queen, he took the throne,
He made Attolia his own,
The barons knelt and pledged their troth,
The Queen’s Guard too (and both were wrath)
This was their king – to every look,
A printer’s boy – with iron hook?