The Twelfth Match

[realitymods]

Characters: Damon, the Fifth Doctor, Spectators
Location: The Coliseum.
Time: Two days after the last fights.
Summary: The twelfth of the death matches.
Warnings: Character death warning.

The king glanced over the arena. He did not step onto the ledge but rested his hands on it, observing the two combatants step in and betraying nothing in his expression. He said, “Damon, Doctor. May yours be an honourable fight.”

The sand started falling as the king returned to his throne. Then, the king muttered something, defeat ringing in it like the toll of a church bell: “If honour can be found here.”

His face thrown full in shadow by the angle of his hat, the liar offered his king a plate of chocolate treats. Disconsolate, both king and liar looked away from the fight.

Comments

[miseardae.livejournal.com]

"I'll be alive and well soon enough." He smiled, then, softly. "Tell me it won't hurt. Tell me you won't forever remember what it was like, dying here, murdered on a whim. Tell me they won't take leave a piece of you behind when they bring you back."

The sentiment was smooth on his tongue, and some of it was even sincere. The bloodshed didn't touch him very deeply; it couldn't, not any longer. But that didn't mean he approved. And Damon...well. Some people he simply didn't want to watch die. Some people he'd rather protect.

Everyone had their preferences, after all.

[doctorsfanboy.livejournal.com]

Damon stepped forward, placing a hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "It won't hurt, Doctor. You won't remember forever, and you'll always be yourself. I'll be waiting here for you." Only he wouldn't. But what the Doctor didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Literally.