Rock and roll [Gander/Cove] Blitz

Gander Ellesmere

Gander had marveled at the amenities the tournament provided in the healing tent. They used a special salve to patch up his wounds, carefully brushing it along his chest, and more along his calves. He blushed when they’d asked him to undress, with the men and women present to make sure that he’d not sustained any bad damage. At home he’d learned how to stitch himself up from his uncle with a needle and thread, and anything worse than that meant fetching the old doctor that lived on the edge of the island.

His father was sure to laugh that they had the fancy medicines to heal him before the night was out, and say that this was why careers from the mainland had lost their way about them. If they kept on going as though they were invincible, how were they ever going the value of what it meant to be weak, and in need of another? Gander respected the wisdom: that we were only as strong as we felt, and that there wasn’t shame in asking for help.

After his clothes were returned, and just as he’d put on his breeches, Gander heard Cove’s voice from the doorway. He remembered the man from not long ago, when Gander had been sent to meet the mayoral candidates.

‘How you feeling champ?’

Gander felt his cheeks flush at the mention of being a winner. They were always taught not to emphasize their wins on the island, but it felt good being recognized.

“Best kind, b’y. Ow’s you gettin’ on?” Gander stood walked to the entrance of the tent and offered his hand. “Good on seein’ you, Mr. Cove.”

Gander Ellesmere

Gander crossed his arms across his chest as Cove spoke. The man used an inordinate amount of praise for a boy that was used to none, and he did his best not to let it get the better of him. Still, it was a good feeling for someone to praise him so, and make him feel welcome. He liked the way the man had always been so open about his feelings. It was a novelty to be sure, and to him seemed more genuine than how others carried themselves. He’d never be able to replicate the same sort of manners, but still didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy it.

When he used the word proud, Gander gritted his teeth. He wanted to accept the word at face value, but felt allergic to such high regard. Taking pride in his work was antithetical to islanders; their work was to speak for themselves. He stared down at the man’s feet, and nodded along with him. He knew he was just being kind, but he felt as though there was an added pressure to accept.

“Aye, Mr. Cove. Er – Cove. ‘S fine here. They’s got me right like a king ‘ere,” He said softly, hand brushing the side of his elbow. “Sad tah hear you’s kin’s not fit. ‘Ope she’s righted soon.”

Gander stared out at the beach and to Cove. “We’s gonna sit or could’n walk tah beach yah?”

Gander Ellesmere

Cove goes on about how the capitol treats them as king and queens then, and Gander nods along. He knew well enough that as long as they provided a show for the capitol, nothing else mattered. It was why his father was smart enough to send at least one of them to the shore whenever something like this came up. He knew that if they stayed away for two long, the capitol might go getting ideas. The last thing they needed was a patrol boat off the shore of the Rock, or worse, for someone to be stationed amongst the islanders.

He speaks of his daughter being on the mend and Gander waits for him to finish. He liked to talk, but there was something about him that Gander didn’t mind. Perhaps that he seemed to show a lot of praise for the island, or took care to see that he was attended to. It was more affection than he got from the other mainlanders, who he saw as cold and unfeeling. Cove wasn’t like that, he was an airier spirit.

When he asked about who he was fighting, Gander gave a shrug.

“Krigel kin, dey says,” Gander replied. “Jo-rah, by’n. Nah matter’n tah me. Gimme a fight an’ I’ll go. Seems a fuss about these kids then, though.”