Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabble 5

Written: 2012 ish, edited 2019

The duel had been a taxing one. Jedidiah hadn't expected the lazy King to be as good as fighting as he had been. For all the man was abismual at his job, the final del to the death had been hard fought. Jedidiah had finished the man off without mercy, ending the life of the man who had caused such pain and suffering over the lands.

He grinned, Now, he was King. Excitement and glee filled in but as he turned to send the orders out, a dark blur rushed through the room. It took Jedidiah a moment to truely comprehend what was occurring in front of him as wails filled the room. They hurt his ears. The child, Crosby's child no doubt, was clutching to the dead body of his father and weeping.

"You," Jedidiah breathed as horror filled him. He was King, that much was true by the laws of the land. Only, if people did not want him to be so, they could claim the boy to be King by right of blood.

He had to kill the child.

The child who looked to be no older than three. The very idea made Jedidiah ill. An adult was a different matter to a babe. He would not kill the child ad Jedidiah knew it was going to come back to haunt him. Exhaling, a million concerns rushed through Jedidiah's mind. How was he going to raise the son of the man he killed without the boy hating him and trying to betray him when he was older? His bitch of a wife would not raise him. His lover may be more kind. Mason had a heart unlike Marion.

"Sir?" A voice called uncertainly.

Jedidiah glanced over his shoulder to see one of his men standing there, lookin at him and then the body of the former King. "The deed is done. The King is dead. Inform the troops, the city is ours."

"And the child?" The man asked. He was a father Jedidiah remembered. Someone who would be sympathetic to the boy's future and plight.

The child's sobs had quieted, though he was still shaking the body, hoping no doubt for his father to awaken. Jedidiah closed his eyes and nodded. "If my beloved accepts him, he shall be considered my own," he declared. In a strange way, that might work. Those who would want the bloodline to continue would be happy and hopefully he wouldn't have to actually have any children with Marion. It would certainly mess up her hopes of having a lover outside of him.

"Which beloved?"

"Do i need to answer that?" Jedidiah asked darkly. His relationship with his arranged wife was well known for being terrible. Marion was a spoilt woman who was used to power and money. Only Jedidiah refused to give her any of that while she continued to prove she could not be trusted to waste it all gambling on the horses or buying a new gown.

"I suppose not, sir," the man smiled. "If Sir Mason refuses the boy?"

"I'm sure we will think of something," Jedidiah dismissed. It was incredibly unlikely after all. The footsteps of the man leaving echoed in the corridor and Jedidiah watched the child weeping a moment longer. He needed to do something.

Chestnut eyes looked up at him warily from under a thicket of curly dark brown hair, small hands clutching onto the boy as if that would protect him. The boy's skin was darker than his father and Jedidiah recognised the texture of the hair. Whoever the mother had been, she had been from the south. Jedidiah himself was a good few tones lighter than the boy but still a brown complexion.

"It is time to leave," Jedidiah stated, reaching out to sweep up the boy. The boy struggled, kicking and squirming in his hands. Jedidiah grimaced as he was kicked in the ribs but dutifully carried the child away from the corpse.

"Da!" The boy yelled, his young voice echoing in the halls as Jedidiah carrying him. The sounds of his sobbing mixing in.