Tales of the Crew: Roberick
It was a bright day out, but Roberick Danforth was content to wile away hours in his office. The small room in the back of his surgical suite was easily illuminated by a single candle, and let Roberick put his thoughts to parchment in peace. The crowds of the city, while he loved his city and kingdom well, always made him uneasy. He had always found speaking to others quite difficult - he was much better at repairing people than relating to them.
Ideas for new methods to streamline the surgical process, to lessen the risk of death, spilled out from his mind, down his arm and through the quill. Ink on the pointed tip of his instrument translated his thoughts in fine, artistic handwriting onto the page before him. As his head was downturned, he found himself repeatedly pushing wire-frame, round glasses back up his hooked nose to correct his vision.
He glanced up towards a mirror that was hung above a basin in which he washed his hands before treating each patient. He had no ego about his looks, and felt he could not - his long, rectangular face, was somewhat gaunt and pale from the time he spent indoors. Though, it was framed by perhaps his one less-than-plain feature: his fair hair, which hung down to his shoulders.
The long hair was parted down the middle, and methodically kept, as were all things in his office and on his person. His simple shirt was tied shut with a perfect, even knot. His books were lined up so that they had a smooth transition in size, rather than in any sort of alphabetical order that might result in a jagged, misshapen pattern. It all gave him comfort - ironic, he thought, that he should be so bothered by clutter and mess, and yet be comfortable with the profession he'd chosen. But there was a certain satisfaction, in aiding the broken people who came to him - in helping them be right again. He would help the sick and injured, and commit no harm unto others... A worthy path.
A soft, yet excited knocking came from his door, before it opened and a familiar, perfect face poked through.
Mia, dear Mia - she and Roberick had been friends since their youth. To each other they were constant companions, confidants, and comforts. And to Roberick, she was... Oh so much more. His inspiration in all things, his will to be braver than in truth he was; perhaps a day as perfect as this would provide the chance to finally admit his feelings to her.
"Roberick, come and see! There's a celebration in the streets! It’s all so grand!" She said, in a melodic tone that sounded of the finest tuned instrument imaginable. A celebration would mean a crowd... But for Mia, he would swim the very sea itself.
He swallowed back a lump in his throat, nodding with a meek smile and pushing up from his desk, smoothing out the wrinkles in his clothes as he rounded the seemingly unweathered piece of furniture. Before he had even seen her get close, Mia had a grip on his wrist that would not be loosed, even if he had tried.
Though he stumbled here and there, the pair of them ran through streets that were mostly empty of the average citizen, as all gathered for the spectacle. Mia pushed through the crowd, with Roberick ever in-tow, until the pair of them were at the very forefront, and able to view the whole event.
Roberick’s heart skipped a beat as Mia’s arm went around his waist, and he found his arm draping her shoulders. He couldn’t help but stare at her in the sunlight, though her focus was elsewhere; couldn’t help but admire her small, pointed nose, the dimples of her smile, or the fiery red bob of hair on her head. In that moment he knew - when all had calmed, and they were away from the crowds... He would tell her. With luck, they would begin a new life together, as more than simply friends.
Roberick turned to admire the crowds, all waving and cheering towards the focus of their attention. There was a beauty in this day, the way the light shined upon the masonry of the city, and illuminated the rose petals that fluttered through the air and down to the place the citizens bordered.
He couldn’t help but follow one such petal as a man below caught it in his hand, in a heavy, leather glove. The joy they all felt echoed through Roberick in that moment - the sight was one to behold and be glad for. Even with his hood drawn, everyone could tell just by looking who they were here to celebrate...
Prince Arthas had returned.
He and his retinue made their way further down the path, towards the King’s Throne room. Mia rested her head on Roberick’s shoulder, and he smiled like he had never smiled before.
Today... Today would be such a perfect day.
(( Inspiration struck today and I just had to write this! A small story about one of the main characters of Garver’s crew. Thank you to anyone who took the time to read! ))