Post by mithradates on Sept 18, 2011 11:05:10 GMT 10
Title: The Most Beautiful Morning
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,614
Card: Autumn
Bingo: Loss, Gold, Argument, Red, Friendship
Summary: Clara Goodwin was once a loose Dog, until one night she got scared so straight that she never went askew again.
A/N: Wait! ACK. I am so bad with Bingo - I understand the BASIS of it, but what do the dates 5-11 of September have to do with anything? It's September 17th and I'm afraid I can't submit this, or I'm breaking a rule, or something. Bah :< Please just tell me if this is totally not allowed or if I'm in the clear.
Red splashed like water at her heels. It was on her hands, dripping down the front of her uniform and pooling on the floor. Her mind scrambled as her hands slipped. Pressure. She needed to apply pressure – but, Goddess! Her hands wouldn’t stop slipping.
Baton out in one hand, the other pressed close to her side, Clara was scared. Terrified. The two rushers that stood across from her grinned sickly, teeth rotting and lips chapped.
“This young ‘un won’t be much of a fight, eh, Jitty?” That was the cove on the right.
‘Jitty’ chuckled, low and unfriendly.
“Wha’ kind of crack-brained Dog takes a bribe job to guard wit’ out findin’ out what’s she’s guardin’ afore she guards it?”
Clara had to get to the door, but these two talkative, brawny coves were between her and it. The two other Dogs that had been on the job with her – one a mot, the other a man – were already dead, lying face down in the growing pool of blood at her feet.
“A loose one, aye, and very loose, from the size o’ her coinpurse.” Lips stretched tight over those teeth again – they glinted slightly, the brown and dull gray hues covered in spittle from their mouths. Clara felt like she was going to vomit. Or pass out – or both. The loss of blood is doing that to you, the cold, detached part of her mind told her.
She had to get out of here. But how? They were guarding the exit and she couldn’t fight them – not like this. Her coinpurse – of course!
“I’ll - ” Her throat was dry. She swallowed and continued. “I’ll give it to you. The money, on’y please, let me go!” Clara didn’t need to act scared, she was already terrified to the bone. Her normal, educated speech slid into a slur and her stomach just wouldn’t stop lurching.
“Silence, bitch! We talk t’ ye when we feel like it, not th’ other way ‘round!” That was the one on the right. Jitty didn’t take kindly to the thought of missing out on coin.
“Are ye stupid, Relf?! That’s more coin than I make’n a year or more. We should just take it.” While they had their argument, she untied her coinpurse and lobbed it at them, throwing her body in motion at the same time. Jitty went for the coin, but Relf caught her in the back of the head with his dull club. Clara dropped as her entire world went black, as if she were an oil lamp and someone had just blew the flame of her mind out.
When she woke, it was in the blackest hours just before dawn. She couldn’t move – the two other loose Dogs were on top of her. How she hadn’t died by Jitty’s slash in her side, she didn’t know. Clara tried to talk, to get someone to haul her out of the gutter. Her throat didn’t work and her whole body was absolutely freezing.
I am going to die, she thought. Well you would’ve deserved it, you stupid scut. That was the other half of her mind, the one that had told her she was dying of blood loss earlier.
She realized wetness that wasn’t scummer or blood was on her cheeks – she was crying.
Clara could only manage choked sobs as she twisted weakly, trying desperately to get herself out. Fresh warmth bloomed on her injured side, blood pouring out of the opened wound.
And now you’ll get somone’s scummer in it and really die now. Why did you ever think it was a good idea to be loose?
Her thoughts sounded like Nyler Jewel, her old training Dog, just a few years before when she was a Puppy. She wished he was here now, to get her out of this filthy gutter, to scold her for being a great sarden dummy and to comfort her with his friendship. He was a good Dog. Clara sobbed again, not so much because the idea of joining the Black God scared her, but because she had shamed Jewel and betrayed that friendship. Her, a loose Dog, nearly fresh from Jewel’s training! No one would ever let him live without hearing of it every day.
“Jewel? The one that trained that corrupt Dog, what was her name, the one that died? Christine, Carla, something like that. Makes you wonder, when one as rotten as her comes from him, d’you think it was his influence?”
It would be her fault, that no one ever trusted him again. She let out a little moan of agony, both physical and mental.
Please, Goddess, Clara tried to pray steadily, but even her thoughts wavered weakly under the duress her body was going through. Please let me live. Please let me live so I can make things right by Jewel, and make things right with the law. I don’t want to die a loose Dog. I want to die with honor. I’ll never do it again – I can be good! I can be hard with the law, as hard as anybody can. And I will, but I have to live!
The Goddess replied, not so much in words but in a strange warmth that spread over Clara’s body. She sobbed again, thanking the Great Mother Goddess silently. Her mind slipped as the blood loss took its toll, and she slept.
The light of dawn woke her again, and someone’s hands. A person – she didn’t know who, the sun was so bright – was lifting her out of the gutter.
“Ye’d think these Dog folk wouldn’t like rollin’ around in the gutter, but here another one is. Anton, please send word t’ the Carpenter’s Guild that I’ve run on a side errand to the Jane Street Kennel ‘n I won’t be back as soon as ‘spected, there’s a good lad.” The cove’s voice was warm, his arms supportive of Clara’s small frame. Golden light streamed around the man’s face, emphasizing homely looks and a strong jawline accompanied by brown hair and a grin the size of the Olorun. The gold spread everywhere else, too, encompassing all of Corus. It might’ve been the most beautiful morning Clara had ever seen in her life, and she croaked out a feeble laugh at the irony.
“Missus, please don’t be strugglin’ more’n necessary, yer side looks quite bad. Can you speak? No, prob’ly not. It’s okay, just relax. I’m takin’ ye t’ Jane Street t’ get looked at, seein’ as I found you all bloody in a gutter full of scummer underneath two bodies.”
She struggled to talk, words forming but never leaving her mouth, her tongue swollen and painful from lack of moisture. The man shook his head at her quite firmly.
“No, Guardswoman, none of that. Ye’re weak as a newborn kitten and I’m not goin’ t’ allow ye to get any weaker. Just calm down, ye can explain it all later.”
Clara did as she was told and let her eyes flutter shut again, having no will to argue with him.
Later, at the kennel, the healer told her she had suffered from severe blood loss and hypothermia, which had contributed to the strange warm feeling that Clara described, not that Clara would stop believing it was the Goddess saving her life. The healer also said that she was probably only alive because of the two bodies of Dogs that had been on top of her, as they had somewhat insulated her from the rest of the night chill. Clara shook her head, and asked for some paper to write up a report.
Do I lie? Her mind reeled. If she told the truth of being a loose Dog, they’d take her in and probably take her still-leather Dog insignia away. If that happened, she wouldn’t be able to uphold her promise to the Goddess and pursue those who broke the law. On the other hand, she would be lying, and that would also mean she was breaking her promise with the Goddess to get right with justice.
Goddess, forgive me for the transgression I am about to commit. Please understand that I only wish to uphold my promise with you as fully as I may, and do not smite me where I sit.
Clara began to write a report about being off-duty and still in uniform when these two crazy rushers jumped her. She had called for help, and the Dog pair that was dead had come to assist. Everything had been a blur after that, and she had woken up to the cove that took her to the kennel lifting her out of the gutter. Clara felt that was just the perfect balance of ambiguous and detailed to sound believable, and set the quill down.
The cheery Carpenter’s Guild fellow had come back, and was leaning in the doorframe watching her write. Now that she had stopped and looked up at him, he came fully into the room.
“I must thank you properly, Master….?”
“Forgive my manners! I’m Tomlan Goodwin, Journeyman Carpenter. Ye’re sure ye’re alright, missus?”
“Clara, if you please,” She said to him, lifting her feet out of the side of the infirmary cot and getting up on wobbly knees. “And I’m fine, thank you for asking. If you’ll excuse me – “ She paused to put her boots on and makes sure the bandage on her side was still in place. Even though she had been healed, there would still be a scab there for some weeks, as the kennel healer was rubbish at any serious wounds. “ – I have an offering to the Goddess to make.”
For all her insistence to the contrary, Tomlan accompanied her to the temple, and her last lie lay on the table she set it on, the report folded neatly and waiting to be read.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,614
Card: Autumn
Bingo: Loss, Gold, Argument, Red, Friendship
Summary: Clara Goodwin was once a loose Dog, until one night she got scared so straight that she never went askew again.
A/N: Wait! ACK. I am so bad with Bingo - I understand the BASIS of it, but what do the dates 5-11 of September have to do with anything? It's September 17th and I'm afraid I can't submit this, or I'm breaking a rule, or something. Bah :< Please just tell me if this is totally not allowed or if I'm in the clear.
Red splashed like water at her heels. It was on her hands, dripping down the front of her uniform and pooling on the floor. Her mind scrambled as her hands slipped. Pressure. She needed to apply pressure – but, Goddess! Her hands wouldn’t stop slipping.
Baton out in one hand, the other pressed close to her side, Clara was scared. Terrified. The two rushers that stood across from her grinned sickly, teeth rotting and lips chapped.
“This young ‘un won’t be much of a fight, eh, Jitty?” That was the cove on the right.
‘Jitty’ chuckled, low and unfriendly.
“Wha’ kind of crack-brained Dog takes a bribe job to guard wit’ out findin’ out what’s she’s guardin’ afore she guards it?”
Clara had to get to the door, but these two talkative, brawny coves were between her and it. The two other Dogs that had been on the job with her – one a mot, the other a man – were already dead, lying face down in the growing pool of blood at her feet.
“A loose one, aye, and very loose, from the size o’ her coinpurse.” Lips stretched tight over those teeth again – they glinted slightly, the brown and dull gray hues covered in spittle from their mouths. Clara felt like she was going to vomit. Or pass out – or both. The loss of blood is doing that to you, the cold, detached part of her mind told her.
She had to get out of here. But how? They were guarding the exit and she couldn’t fight them – not like this. Her coinpurse – of course!
“I’ll - ” Her throat was dry. She swallowed and continued. “I’ll give it to you. The money, on’y please, let me go!” Clara didn’t need to act scared, she was already terrified to the bone. Her normal, educated speech slid into a slur and her stomach just wouldn’t stop lurching.
“Silence, bitch! We talk t’ ye when we feel like it, not th’ other way ‘round!” That was the one on the right. Jitty didn’t take kindly to the thought of missing out on coin.
“Are ye stupid, Relf?! That’s more coin than I make’n a year or more. We should just take it.” While they had their argument, she untied her coinpurse and lobbed it at them, throwing her body in motion at the same time. Jitty went for the coin, but Relf caught her in the back of the head with his dull club. Clara dropped as her entire world went black, as if she were an oil lamp and someone had just blew the flame of her mind out.
When she woke, it was in the blackest hours just before dawn. She couldn’t move – the two other loose Dogs were on top of her. How she hadn’t died by Jitty’s slash in her side, she didn’t know. Clara tried to talk, to get someone to haul her out of the gutter. Her throat didn’t work and her whole body was absolutely freezing.
I am going to die, she thought. Well you would’ve deserved it, you stupid scut. That was the other half of her mind, the one that had told her she was dying of blood loss earlier.
She realized wetness that wasn’t scummer or blood was on her cheeks – she was crying.
Clara could only manage choked sobs as she twisted weakly, trying desperately to get herself out. Fresh warmth bloomed on her injured side, blood pouring out of the opened wound.
And now you’ll get somone’s scummer in it and really die now. Why did you ever think it was a good idea to be loose?
Her thoughts sounded like Nyler Jewel, her old training Dog, just a few years before when she was a Puppy. She wished he was here now, to get her out of this filthy gutter, to scold her for being a great sarden dummy and to comfort her with his friendship. He was a good Dog. Clara sobbed again, not so much because the idea of joining the Black God scared her, but because she had shamed Jewel and betrayed that friendship. Her, a loose Dog, nearly fresh from Jewel’s training! No one would ever let him live without hearing of it every day.
“Jewel? The one that trained that corrupt Dog, what was her name, the one that died? Christine, Carla, something like that. Makes you wonder, when one as rotten as her comes from him, d’you think it was his influence?”
It would be her fault, that no one ever trusted him again. She let out a little moan of agony, both physical and mental.
Please, Goddess, Clara tried to pray steadily, but even her thoughts wavered weakly under the duress her body was going through. Please let me live. Please let me live so I can make things right by Jewel, and make things right with the law. I don’t want to die a loose Dog. I want to die with honor. I’ll never do it again – I can be good! I can be hard with the law, as hard as anybody can. And I will, but I have to live!
The Goddess replied, not so much in words but in a strange warmth that spread over Clara’s body. She sobbed again, thanking the Great Mother Goddess silently. Her mind slipped as the blood loss took its toll, and she slept.
The light of dawn woke her again, and someone’s hands. A person – she didn’t know who, the sun was so bright – was lifting her out of the gutter.
“Ye’d think these Dog folk wouldn’t like rollin’ around in the gutter, but here another one is. Anton, please send word t’ the Carpenter’s Guild that I’ve run on a side errand to the Jane Street Kennel ‘n I won’t be back as soon as ‘spected, there’s a good lad.” The cove’s voice was warm, his arms supportive of Clara’s small frame. Golden light streamed around the man’s face, emphasizing homely looks and a strong jawline accompanied by brown hair and a grin the size of the Olorun. The gold spread everywhere else, too, encompassing all of Corus. It might’ve been the most beautiful morning Clara had ever seen in her life, and she croaked out a feeble laugh at the irony.
“Missus, please don’t be strugglin’ more’n necessary, yer side looks quite bad. Can you speak? No, prob’ly not. It’s okay, just relax. I’m takin’ ye t’ Jane Street t’ get looked at, seein’ as I found you all bloody in a gutter full of scummer underneath two bodies.”
She struggled to talk, words forming but never leaving her mouth, her tongue swollen and painful from lack of moisture. The man shook his head at her quite firmly.
“No, Guardswoman, none of that. Ye’re weak as a newborn kitten and I’m not goin’ t’ allow ye to get any weaker. Just calm down, ye can explain it all later.”
Clara did as she was told and let her eyes flutter shut again, having no will to argue with him.
Later, at the kennel, the healer told her she had suffered from severe blood loss and hypothermia, which had contributed to the strange warm feeling that Clara described, not that Clara would stop believing it was the Goddess saving her life. The healer also said that she was probably only alive because of the two bodies of Dogs that had been on top of her, as they had somewhat insulated her from the rest of the night chill. Clara shook her head, and asked for some paper to write up a report.
Do I lie? Her mind reeled. If she told the truth of being a loose Dog, they’d take her in and probably take her still-leather Dog insignia away. If that happened, she wouldn’t be able to uphold her promise to the Goddess and pursue those who broke the law. On the other hand, she would be lying, and that would also mean she was breaking her promise with the Goddess to get right with justice.
Goddess, forgive me for the transgression I am about to commit. Please understand that I only wish to uphold my promise with you as fully as I may, and do not smite me where I sit.
Clara began to write a report about being off-duty and still in uniform when these two crazy rushers jumped her. She had called for help, and the Dog pair that was dead had come to assist. Everything had been a blur after that, and she had woken up to the cove that took her to the kennel lifting her out of the gutter. Clara felt that was just the perfect balance of ambiguous and detailed to sound believable, and set the quill down.
The cheery Carpenter’s Guild fellow had come back, and was leaning in the doorframe watching her write. Now that she had stopped and looked up at him, he came fully into the room.
“I must thank you properly, Master….?”
“Forgive my manners! I’m Tomlan Goodwin, Journeyman Carpenter. Ye’re sure ye’re alright, missus?”
“Clara, if you please,” She said to him, lifting her feet out of the side of the infirmary cot and getting up on wobbly knees. “And I’m fine, thank you for asking. If you’ll excuse me – “ She paused to put her boots on and makes sure the bandage on her side was still in place. Even though she had been healed, there would still be a scab there for some weeks, as the kennel healer was rubbish at any serious wounds. “ – I have an offering to the Goddess to make.”
For all her insistence to the contrary, Tomlan accompanied her to the temple, and her last lie lay on the table she set it on, the report folded neatly and waiting to be read.