Post by greenie on Jun 23, 2010 15:18:37 GMT 10
WARNING: Minor Bloodhound spoilers, including in the Notes.
Title: Runaway
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #16, Lies
Summary: Clary makes a new friend in a bar in Port Caynn.
Notes: This isn't really an AU, but it's an AU from my personal fanon. Basically, Clary is married to Tom young, and she's acting more childish (but thinking she's grown up) than usual, in a spoiled/snotty sort of way.
She's in Port Caynn because she ran away after her crookedness was found out.
“You’ve been drinking a lot.”
Clary turned to glare at the interruption. “I hold my drink well, not that it’s anything to you.”
“It’s not anything to me,” he agreed. “Although mayhap you should slow down, some of the men here are eyeing you up.”
“Mayhap I like that.” She couldn’t help but add “They’re not old and ugly, are they?”
“Oh, so you’re a picky lass? What difference does it make?”
“Well, if they’re not too old and they’re handsome, then maybe I’d drink a bit more and let them...entertain me.”
“Entertain you? You?”
Clary stuck her nose in the air. “It’s not like I haven’t done it before. You better not think you’re getting head start on the others by talking to me. I decide who I spend my time with, and you’re acting like a...a scummernob.”
“That makes two of us. How old are you?”
Clary eyed him. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and she had to admit he wasn’t unhandsome. Talking to him wasn’t so bad either, and maybe if she drank a little more...
“I’m twenty,” she told him.
The man snorted. “You expect me to believe that? You’re not a day over sixteen.”
Clary’s eyes widened. “I am so!” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I’m twenty.”
“I’d not even be surprised if you were fifteen. Mayhap even fourteen...”
“Are you saying I look childish?”
“I’m saying you are a child.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “I’m eighteen and I’m married, and I’m most certainly not a child.” He raised his eyebrows and she glared at him even more intensely, something he hadn’t thought would be possible. “Eighteen in a month and a bit,” she muttered. “It’s close enough.”
“Nice to meet you, Mistress Seventeen-Year-Old. I’m Henrik Finer.”
Clary reluctantly shook the hand he held out. “Myaral Fane.”
Henrik laughed. “No you’re not. I know Myaral Fane.”
Clary’s eyes widened in surprise, and her cheeks pinkened. “Clary Goodwin,” she said grudgingly. “How do you know Mya?”
“I don’t.” Henrik shrugged and chuckled at her. “I just figured you were lying again, is all.”
“Pox rot you,” Clary snapped. “You’re rude and you are scummernobbed, and I’m definitely not going to bed you, even if I drank a whole barrel of ale.”
“I wouldn’t bed you anyway, you’re drunk and I’m not, and you’re married.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I hate him.” She swallowed hard and pushed away the feelings of guilt; it hadn’t even really been anything much to do with Tom, but he had been the last straw, the one that broke the mule’s back. “I hate them all.”
“You’ve definitely had too much to drink,” Henrik said lightly. “Come and dance with me instead.”
Title: Runaway
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: #16, Lies
Summary: Clary makes a new friend in a bar in Port Caynn.
Notes: This isn't really an AU, but it's an AU from my personal fanon. Basically, Clary is married to Tom young, and she's acting more childish (but thinking she's grown up) than usual, in a spoiled/snotty sort of way.
She's in Port Caynn because she ran away after her crookedness was found out.“You’ve been drinking a lot.”
Clary turned to glare at the interruption. “I hold my drink well, not that it’s anything to you.”
“It’s not anything to me,” he agreed. “Although mayhap you should slow down, some of the men here are eyeing you up.”
“Mayhap I like that.” She couldn’t help but add “They’re not old and ugly, are they?”
“Oh, so you’re a picky lass? What difference does it make?”
“Well, if they’re not too old and they’re handsome, then maybe I’d drink a bit more and let them...entertain me.”
“Entertain you? You?”
Clary stuck her nose in the air. “It’s not like I haven’t done it before. You better not think you’re getting head start on the others by talking to me. I decide who I spend my time with, and you’re acting like a...a scummernob.”
“That makes two of us. How old are you?”
Clary eyed him. He looked to be in his mid-twenties, and she had to admit he wasn’t unhandsome. Talking to him wasn’t so bad either, and maybe if she drank a little more...
“I’m twenty,” she told him.
The man snorted. “You expect me to believe that? You’re not a day over sixteen.”
Clary’s eyes widened. “I am so!” She crossed her arms and glared at him. “I’m twenty.”
“I’d not even be surprised if you were fifteen. Mayhap even fourteen...”
“Are you saying I look childish?”
“I’m saying you are a child.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “I’m eighteen and I’m married, and I’m most certainly not a child.” He raised his eyebrows and she glared at him even more intensely, something he hadn’t thought would be possible. “Eighteen in a month and a bit,” she muttered. “It’s close enough.”
“Nice to meet you, Mistress Seventeen-Year-Old. I’m Henrik Finer.”
Clary reluctantly shook the hand he held out. “Myaral Fane.”
Henrik laughed. “No you’re not. I know Myaral Fane.”
Clary’s eyes widened in surprise, and her cheeks pinkened. “Clary Goodwin,” she said grudgingly. “How do you know Mya?”
“I don’t.” Henrik shrugged and chuckled at her. “I just figured you were lying again, is all.”
“Pox rot you,” Clary snapped. “You’re rude and you are scummernobbed, and I’m definitely not going to bed you, even if I drank a whole barrel of ale.”
“I wouldn’t bed you anyway, you’re drunk and I’m not, and you’re married.”
“I don’t care,” she said. “I hate him.” She swallowed hard and pushed away the feelings of guilt; it hadn’t even really been anything much to do with Tom, but he had been the last straw, the one that broke the mule’s back. “I hate them all.”
“You’ve definitely had too much to drink,” Henrik said lightly. “Come and dance with me instead.”
