Post by wordy on Dec 24, 2021 19:02:52 GMT 10
Title: After Watch
Rating: G
For: Idleness
Prompt: 5. Beka and Sabine
Summary: Summertime, and life’s never easy. Set during Bloodhound. No spoilers.
Notes and Warnings: Happy holidays! Sorry this one’s a bit late. My Provost's Dog skills were a bit rustier than I’d thought.
It had been a hot and humid summer so far, which tended to bring more folk out into the streets in the hopes of catching a breeze. The downside was that the weather made some people more irritable, more desperate, and after a long and wearying Day Watch I’d had it up to the neck with breaking up silly brawls, not to mention swatting off kids who thought they’d try their grubby hands in other folk's pockets.
The sweat dripping down my back and sticking my shirt to my ribs was begging for a trip to the baths, but as I walked down Jane Street my feet started to drag. The Barrel's Bottom was closer. My dry throat started to itch at the thought of a cool drink.
Some Dogs had qualms about drinking elbow to elbow with Rats, but considering the company I usually kept, I figured one drink wouldn’t hurt. The Bottom wasn’t exactly one of my chosen watering holes, though. As I pushed open the front door and stepped inside, I uttered a silent prayer that no trouble would find me here this afternoon.
I needn’t have worried. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the Barrel, it became obvious that the bar’s inhabitants were more concerned with keeping themselves cool: men and women in varying states of undress were scattered about the place, wilting in their chairs and melted across tables like butter in a hot pan. Sweat stained almost every shirtfront and forehead. In a corner, Fiddlelad—one of Aniki's rushers—wore a wet scarf twisted around his neck, his bare torso shining with dripping water as he played a restrained tune on his fiddle. I tipped my chin at him when his gaze drifted my way.
Then I turned and saw a familiar face at the table by the bar.
Lady Sabine of Macayhill was unlike any knight I’d ever come across—not that I can boast to have met all that many—yet it seemed she could still surprise me. Her three companions included another of Aniki’s rushers, a straggly-bearded regular who I’d seen down the kennel more than once, and an unknown mot who’d amassed quite a pile of coin in front of her. They were playing cards. As I stood and watched, Lady Sabine drummed her fingers on the edge of her cards before plucking one out and laying it face-up on the table. The old bearded cove groaned and tossed in his hand.
I hadn’t realised I’d drifted closer until my lady looked up, her brown eyes meeting mine. “Cooper,” she said, a warm smile removing the furrow from her brow. “What a pleasant surprise. Join me?”
I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt their game, but her companions seemed ready to leave anyway; three chairs scraped back and Aniki’s rusher swept all the cards back into the deck, giving me a wink before he moved over to a neighbouring table. The old cove headed for the bar, already a bit wobbly on his feet, though due to age or drink I couldn’t tell, while the black-haired mot finished shoving her winnings into a soft leather purse. The table now empty, I sat down across from Lady Sabine.
She gestured towards a passing barman. “Twilsey?” she asked me.
“Please,” I said, licking my dry lips.
While she took out her purse and put away her own respectable stack of winnings, I let my eyes roam over her. Tunstall was a pox-brained fool if he ever let my lady get away from him: not only was she beautiful with her sleek hair, long nose, and broad shoulders, but she carried herself with a sense of confidence and dependability that shone like sun on water. Though she wasn’t dressed in any obvious trappings of knighthood, I was fair certain that every mot and cove in here could tell that she didn’t belong in the lower city.
Our drinks arrived. My twilsey was as sweet and cool as I’d anticipated. Lady Sabine smiled at my contented sigh.
“Long day?” she enquired.
“Is that all? Feels like it’s been at least a month,” I said. Another sip, then, hesitantly: “I didn’t expect to find you here, my lady.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Please, call me Sabine,” she said. “And no, I suppose you wouldn’t have. But sometimes it can be...a relief, to go where no one knows who you are.”
Having grown up in these parts, it was a bit hard to imagine what that must be like; and even if I did venture far enough, I’m sure Slapper or one of my other friends would find me eventually.
Maybe I wasn’t thinking big enough. It was hard to picture ever leaving Corus.
“I take it you’ve had a long day too?” I asked.
“Is that all?” she echoed my earlier words, the corner of her mouth twitching. Her own drink was yet untouched. Now that I was close enough, I could see grey half-moons graced the soft skin beneath her eyes.
Again, I hesitated. Lady Sabine and I would likely never have been this friendly except for Tunstall walking out with her. Even now, when our circles had crossed over each other, I was painfully—awkwardly—aware of how different we were. True, Lord Gershom's patronage had lifted me out of the muck a ways, but that didn’t mean I was an expert at this.
Whatever this even was. Would a lady knight even consider friendship with a Dog?
But then, Lady Sabine had taken a Dog for her lover.
Maybe I wasn’t as out of my depth as I’d thought.
I took a fortifying gulp of my drink, then offered, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sabine sighed, then shook her head. “It’s just court politics. Utterly boring, I can assure you. I’d rather just sweep it all from my mind for a while.”
I nodded slowly. Some days, I felt much the same way.
“Thank you for offering, though.” She reached across the table and pressed my hand briefly. I found myself smiling back at her.
“Well, if you do ever want to talk,” I said, “or not talk. You know where to find me.”
Sabine raised her tankard. “I’ll drink to that.”
Rating: G
For: Idleness
Prompt: 5. Beka and Sabine
Summary: Summertime, and life’s never easy. Set during Bloodhound. No spoilers.
Notes and Warnings: Happy holidays! Sorry this one’s a bit late. My Provost's Dog skills were a bit rustier than I’d thought.
It had been a hot and humid summer so far, which tended to bring more folk out into the streets in the hopes of catching a breeze. The downside was that the weather made some people more irritable, more desperate, and after a long and wearying Day Watch I’d had it up to the neck with breaking up silly brawls, not to mention swatting off kids who thought they’d try their grubby hands in other folk's pockets.
The sweat dripping down my back and sticking my shirt to my ribs was begging for a trip to the baths, but as I walked down Jane Street my feet started to drag. The Barrel's Bottom was closer. My dry throat started to itch at the thought of a cool drink.
Some Dogs had qualms about drinking elbow to elbow with Rats, but considering the company I usually kept, I figured one drink wouldn’t hurt. The Bottom wasn’t exactly one of my chosen watering holes, though. As I pushed open the front door and stepped inside, I uttered a silent prayer that no trouble would find me here this afternoon.
I needn’t have worried. As my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting in the Barrel, it became obvious that the bar’s inhabitants were more concerned with keeping themselves cool: men and women in varying states of undress were scattered about the place, wilting in their chairs and melted across tables like butter in a hot pan. Sweat stained almost every shirtfront and forehead. In a corner, Fiddlelad—one of Aniki's rushers—wore a wet scarf twisted around his neck, his bare torso shining with dripping water as he played a restrained tune on his fiddle. I tipped my chin at him when his gaze drifted my way.
Then I turned and saw a familiar face at the table by the bar.
Lady Sabine of Macayhill was unlike any knight I’d ever come across—not that I can boast to have met all that many—yet it seemed she could still surprise me. Her three companions included another of Aniki’s rushers, a straggly-bearded regular who I’d seen down the kennel more than once, and an unknown mot who’d amassed quite a pile of coin in front of her. They were playing cards. As I stood and watched, Lady Sabine drummed her fingers on the edge of her cards before plucking one out and laying it face-up on the table. The old bearded cove groaned and tossed in his hand.
I hadn’t realised I’d drifted closer until my lady looked up, her brown eyes meeting mine. “Cooper,” she said, a warm smile removing the furrow from her brow. “What a pleasant surprise. Join me?”
I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt their game, but her companions seemed ready to leave anyway; three chairs scraped back and Aniki’s rusher swept all the cards back into the deck, giving me a wink before he moved over to a neighbouring table. The old cove headed for the bar, already a bit wobbly on his feet, though due to age or drink I couldn’t tell, while the black-haired mot finished shoving her winnings into a soft leather purse. The table now empty, I sat down across from Lady Sabine.
She gestured towards a passing barman. “Twilsey?” she asked me.
“Please,” I said, licking my dry lips.
While she took out her purse and put away her own respectable stack of winnings, I let my eyes roam over her. Tunstall was a pox-brained fool if he ever let my lady get away from him: not only was she beautiful with her sleek hair, long nose, and broad shoulders, but she carried herself with a sense of confidence and dependability that shone like sun on water. Though she wasn’t dressed in any obvious trappings of knighthood, I was fair certain that every mot and cove in here could tell that she didn’t belong in the lower city.
Our drinks arrived. My twilsey was as sweet and cool as I’d anticipated. Lady Sabine smiled at my contented sigh.
“Long day?” she enquired.
“Is that all? Feels like it’s been at least a month,” I said. Another sip, then, hesitantly: “I didn’t expect to find you here, my lady.”
She leaned back in her chair. “Please, call me Sabine,” she said. “And no, I suppose you wouldn’t have. But sometimes it can be...a relief, to go where no one knows who you are.”
Having grown up in these parts, it was a bit hard to imagine what that must be like; and even if I did venture far enough, I’m sure Slapper or one of my other friends would find me eventually.
Maybe I wasn’t thinking big enough. It was hard to picture ever leaving Corus.
“I take it you’ve had a long day too?” I asked.
“Is that all?” she echoed my earlier words, the corner of her mouth twitching. Her own drink was yet untouched. Now that I was close enough, I could see grey half-moons graced the soft skin beneath her eyes.
Again, I hesitated. Lady Sabine and I would likely never have been this friendly except for Tunstall walking out with her. Even now, when our circles had crossed over each other, I was painfully—awkwardly—aware of how different we were. True, Lord Gershom's patronage had lifted me out of the muck a ways, but that didn’t mean I was an expert at this.
Whatever this even was. Would a lady knight even consider friendship with a Dog?
But then, Lady Sabine had taken a Dog for her lover.
Maybe I wasn’t as out of my depth as I’d thought.
I took a fortifying gulp of my drink, then offered, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sabine sighed, then shook her head. “It’s just court politics. Utterly boring, I can assure you. I’d rather just sweep it all from my mind for a while.”
I nodded slowly. Some days, I felt much the same way.
“Thank you for offering, though.” She reached across the table and pressed my hand briefly. I found myself smiling back at her.
“Well, if you do ever want to talk,” I said, “or not talk. You know where to find me.”
Sabine raised her tankard. “I’ll drink to that.”