Post by Seek on Jan 2, 2015 4:28:08 GMT 10
Title: Parting Glass
Rating: PG
For: Elvensmith
Prompt: 3. PD winter fic, post Mastiff
Summary: Clary sits alone at Midwinter. A friend drops in to speak with her.
Notes: Hope you enjoy it! Happy Wishing Tree!
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“Merry Midwinter,” said a familiar voice. Clary glanced up just in time to see Kebibi Ahuda commandeer the chair opposite her. “I thought I’d find you here.”
“What’re you doing here?”
“I know, I’m with Flash District now, but this is my old stomping grounds,” Ahuda said, matter-of-factly.
“Merry Midwinter to you too,” Clary said. The Mantel and Pullet had gone full-on festive, she realised, taking a long pull of her mug. That was mulled wine she was drinking. Ahuda leaned back and ordered her own drink. “Thought I wouldn’t see you.”
“Thought so too,” Ahuda said, conversationally. “But then my Dogs were telling me about this crazy woman sitting alone in a corner in the Mantel and Pullet and I thought to myself, well, that’s probably Clary Goodwin, make no mistake about it. And so I came by, and there you were.”
Clary grunted. “I don’t need a nursemaid.”
“I’m not a nursemaid,” Ahuda replied. “Though my Dogs might beg to disagree, once I’ve had them in my paws.” She grinned, wolfishly. “No, I thought you could use a friend.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I know who used to sit here,” she said, her voice gone gentle. “Every Midwinter.”
Clary said, voice brittle, “He was a sarden cracknob.”
Ahuda waited.
“Sarden, cracked hillman,” Clary added. “Too much of a looby to see what he had.” Her eyes glittered, in the firelight. “We would’ve stuck by him, hillman or no, and the Dogs’ve never done bad by their own, even when they’re too old to walk their beat any longer.”
Ahuda said, “You know that isn’t true. Plenty of young Dogs I’ve sent out to bleed their lives out in someone’s gutter, soaked in piss and their own blood. He saw that happening to him—uselessness or death it usually is, for us.”
Clary said, “I would’ve helped him, if he’d just opened his sarden proud mouth.”
“He wasn’t them as wanted pity. And make no mistake about it, his partner kept his silence, just as much as he did.”
“Beka’s a good girl. If there’s any fault in it, it ain’t hers.”
Ahuda shook her head, wearily. “It’s Midwinter, Goodwin. Time to let go of blame and live with the regrets. We’ve survived these years, the two of us, but it’s curst rare that things end happy for a Dog. Drink to it?”
“To absent friends,” Clary said. Ahuda’s drink had arrived. She thanked the server—they tapped their mugs together, and then drained them to the dregs.
Rating: PG
For: Elvensmith
Prompt: 3. PD winter fic, post Mastiff
Summary: Clary sits alone at Midwinter. A friend drops in to speak with her.
Notes: Hope you enjoy it! Happy Wishing Tree!
-
“Merry Midwinter,” said a familiar voice. Clary glanced up just in time to see Kebibi Ahuda commandeer the chair opposite her. “I thought I’d find you here.”
“What’re you doing here?”
“I know, I’m with Flash District now, but this is my old stomping grounds,” Ahuda said, matter-of-factly.
“Merry Midwinter to you too,” Clary said. The Mantel and Pullet had gone full-on festive, she realised, taking a long pull of her mug. That was mulled wine she was drinking. Ahuda leaned back and ordered her own drink. “Thought I wouldn’t see you.”
“Thought so too,” Ahuda said, conversationally. “But then my Dogs were telling me about this crazy woman sitting alone in a corner in the Mantel and Pullet and I thought to myself, well, that’s probably Clary Goodwin, make no mistake about it. And so I came by, and there you were.”
Clary grunted. “I don’t need a nursemaid.”
“I’m not a nursemaid,” Ahuda replied. “Though my Dogs might beg to disagree, once I’ve had them in my paws.” She grinned, wolfishly. “No, I thought you could use a friend.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I know who used to sit here,” she said, her voice gone gentle. “Every Midwinter.”
Clary said, voice brittle, “He was a sarden cracknob.”
Ahuda waited.
“Sarden, cracked hillman,” Clary added. “Too much of a looby to see what he had.” Her eyes glittered, in the firelight. “We would’ve stuck by him, hillman or no, and the Dogs’ve never done bad by their own, even when they’re too old to walk their beat any longer.”
Ahuda said, “You know that isn’t true. Plenty of young Dogs I’ve sent out to bleed their lives out in someone’s gutter, soaked in piss and their own blood. He saw that happening to him—uselessness or death it usually is, for us.”
Clary said, “I would’ve helped him, if he’d just opened his sarden proud mouth.”
“He wasn’t them as wanted pity. And make no mistake about it, his partner kept his silence, just as much as he did.”
“Beka’s a good girl. If there’s any fault in it, it ain’t hers.”
Ahuda shook her head, wearily. “It’s Midwinter, Goodwin. Time to let go of blame and live with the regrets. We’ve survived these years, the two of us, but it’s curst rare that things end happy for a Dog. Drink to it?”
“To absent friends,” Clary said. Ahuda’s drink had arrived. She thanked the server—they tapped their mugs together, and then drained them to the dregs.