meridian_rose

Title: Thoughts and Feelings
Fandom: Original
Pairing/Characters: Honor, implied Honor/Kat
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 795
Prompt: For the writerverse prompts 'oxymoron' and 'character death'
Summary: Honor reflects on his own feelings about the prophecy, Kat, and Cal. Takes place sometime after 'Prophecy'
Warnings: None

Honor, stripped to the waist, readied his sword and then lashed out at the wooden training dummy.

When Kat wanted a moment alone to think, she retreated to the temple. When he wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, he trained.

Today he had a lot on his mind.

The prophecy was, despite his attempts to reassure Kat, ominous. That one of the party who went on the Tour would not return didn't bode well. Honor jabbed at the dummy, remembering Kat's assertion that she couldn't bear it if anything happened to him or Cal.

She couldn't bear it.

It was an open secret that he adored Kat, that she was the centre of his world. It was not a reciprocally romantic relationship and might never be, but regardless, Honor could not love her more. She was the High Queen, and that made her important to a great many people. However, despite these facts, the entire world did not revolve around Kat. Sometimes, possibly because of her privileged upbringing, she forgot that.

It was a flaw he could live with.

Yet today he was angry. It wasn't really Kat's fault and so he was taking out his anger on the dummy. It was also easier than trying to explain it to her, to tell her that she wasn't the only one with feelings, that she wasn't only one who cared.

That he too had nightmares. That he too worried over their safety.

Didn't she understand what it would do to him if she died? It would destroy him. He'd spent almost his entire life watching over her, one way or another. He loved her completely. He didn't want to die but he would give up his life for her in an instant. If he didn't return, it would be enough for him to know that it was in service to Kat, that he'd died keeping her safe.

If he died, she'd mourn, and then move on with her life. He could accept that.

But he didn't know how he could live without her.

He hardly dared dwell on the thought. It was too painful, too bleak a scenario. Impossible. She couldn't die. He wouldn’t allow it. The prophecy could not refer to her.

Honor stepped in close, smacking the dummy's head with the flat of his blade. If the dummy had possessed a nose, he'd have broken it. It didn't quell his rage.

Didn't Kat think he cared about Cal too? Kat seemed to believe that because she loved and trusted someone, Honor would too. She wasn't entirely wrong, but that wasn't the whole story.

Cal was the first of her peers who hadn't been immediately deferential, which had come as a shock to the young Kat, surrounded by those who'd been trained to bow and scrape to the princess. Where Honor spent a lot of time explaining protocol and reminding Kat of her duties as a princess, queen, and now High Queen, Cal kept her somewhat grounded, never awed by the girl he'd used to make mud pies with.

For that alone, Honor would have loved him, and it didn't hurt that despite his wide-ranging affections and own deep love for her, Cal had absolutely no romantic attraction to Kat. Furthermore Cal was the closest Honor had to a brother – the only other male child his mother birthed had died a year before Honor was born.

Sometimes, when he saw how frustrated Honor was over something Kat had done, or not done, or said, Cal would drag him off to the tavern. Buy him a beer and talk incessantly and generally distract him. And on the rare occasions when Honor was separated from Kat, he could rely on Cal to stay close by and keep an eye on her.

If, Lady forbid, Cal died, it would fall to Honor to deal with the aftermath. To comfort Kat, and take care of Cal's mother, and organise a funeral that was appropriate for a baronet while incorporating aspects of his Cambryn ancestry. Kat wouldn't even really appreciate it because these were things that were expected of him, the sort of things it was acknowledged that Honor did.

Take charge, organise. Be strong and in control, always. It wouldn't occur to Kat for days, weeks even, that he might be grieving too.

The sword rose and fell, punctuating his thoughts.

Other. People. Have. Feelings. Too.

Honor hacked and slashed at the dummy for a few minutes more until he was soaked in sweat and his heart was pounding in his chest. Most importantly, his mind was calm again. He gave a mock bow to the dummy and moved away to fetch his shirt.