High Tariff (Jing Theme #8 - Sword & Shield)
Community: 50_themes
Characters: Jing + Kir (friendship category)
Fandom: King of Bandits Jing
Full list of themes can be found HERE. X-posted to 50_themes, ankhutenshi, kingofbandit
*
Title: High Tariff
Theme: #8 - Sword & Shield
Notes: 1172 words, finished Oct 23/06
Heavy footsteps pounded on the stone bridge above, orders shouted to locate the thief before he got away. The thief in question crouched silently in the shadows, using the sound of the splashing river to cover the winded breathing of himself and his partner. It had been a spectacular chase, and although his knapsack was now weighted with the jewel-encrusted goblet he'd been seeking, he was more worried about the wounded bird in his arms.
Kir's right wing hung from an awkward angle, bone protruding from the tertiary feathers. The last Kir Royale had triggered an explosion; the resulting blast had thrown them both through the wall, and the force of it had snapped one of the wings locked into place for the attack. The albatross' blood felt sticky on the boy's hands.
"We might have overdone it a bit," Jing said, trying to distract the bird's attention while he ran his fingers over the wing to assess the damage. Although he was trying to be gentle, Kir still jerked, pulling away instinctively.
"Please try to keep still, Kir," the Bandit King winced. "I'll have to set the break."
"There's something to look forward to," Kir said hoarsely.
From his position, Jing scanned the area, his gaze settling on the wooden door which led to a business' cellar. With no guards currently in sight, he made a dash for the building, and with a swipe of his blade, the lock hit the ground. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. There were a few barrels and crates pushed up against the wall, which he walked to and sat.
Kir sagged limply in his arms, right wing trailing, and Jing worried his lower lip. The break is serious. If I don't set it correctly, it won't heal straight...
"Jing?" The bird raised his head at the silence, eyes dull.
"Yeah." The grey-eyed youth shifted Kir to one arm and shrugged off his coat, laying it on the crates before placing his feathered companion as gently as possible on top. "Hang on for me, I'm going to look for something to bind this with."
Jing moved through the room, exploring as much by touch as by sight, and found in one corner, a pile of cotton sacks. Prying open one of the crates produced ancient bottles of forgotten alcohol, and armed with his makeshift supplies, he arranged them on the ground and began unbuckling the blade's arm-brace, freeing his movement. "I'm sorry partner," he said, "but this is probably going to hurt a lot."
"Hurts already," Kir groaned.
Pulling the cork free of the bottle, Jing mumbled another apology before dousing the wing with alcohol. Kir thrashed; it burned even as it cleansed the wound. Before he could pull away, he felt two hands firmly grasp his wing. The world flared hazy and white as the two halves of the bone were forced back together... then nothing.
---
Kir wasn't sure how much time passed before he woke again, but the screaming pain in his wing has dulled to a tolerable throb, and he was wrapped in something warm and soft. He swallowed, tasted whiskey in the back of his throat, and coughed. "Jing?"
A rustle off to his left, and his human companion sat down on the crate next to him. "You're awake... I was hoping you'd sleep longer, you need the rest. How do you feel?"
"Bit better," Kir acknowledged, although it hurt to talk. "S'there water? M'throat's... so dry..."
Jing leaned forward to pull the waterskin from his backpack, and Kir was shocked to see that the youth's arms were covered with deep gashes. "Y'said... you were okay... when we were leaving... the palace... I asked you if --"
"Kir," Jing smiled wearily. "You made these ones."
The albatross stared, not comprehending. "I didn't... I wouldn't --"
"It's okay, partner," the Bandit King interrupted. He eased Kir into his lap, holding the skin so he could drink. Once the bird had swallowed some of the liquid, he continued to explain. "It was while I was fixing up your wing. Even after you were unconscious, it was still hurting you, and you were fighting back without knowing it. You clawed me a couple of times, that's all. It's not your fault, so don't worry about it."
Kir shifted guiltily, obviously not convinced by Jing's easy dismissal of the injuries, and craned his neck to regard his wing, now neatly bound in strips of cotton. "Thanks... it does feel better. Why do I taste whiskey?"
"I hoped it'd dull the pain and make you sleep," Jing said simply, although relief was visible on his face when the wing was examined. "I haven't heard the guards in a couple hours... maybe they've given up."
"We can hope," Kir said wryly. "What did we blow up, anyway? I didn't see any Por Vora in there..."
"Oil barrels," the Bandit King said, obviously chagrined. "That's what they had stacked in the corners, under the tarps... we hit one and they all went up."
After a moment, they both began to laugh.
---
Jing snuck them out of the city the following night. They laid low for a few weeks while Kir's wing mended, wandering through Aquavitae as spring melted into summer. Although the human didn't mention them, Kir felt uncomfortable with the gashes on Jing's arms, and was infinitely relieved when they faded to scars and then disappeared altogether.
"Ready, partner?" Jing asked one morning, as they sat on the banks of the Boricua River (1). "I'll take these bandages off."
The cotton strips were unwrapped one at a time, though he was ready to stop if Kir seemed at all hurt by it. Although the feathers beneath were matted slightly, the leading edge of the wing appeared straight. Kir flexed it cautiously, then extended it to full length. Seeing the anxious look on his partner's face, he gave Jing a wide grin. "Good as new," he proclaimed.
The sheer relief that crossed Jing's face made him chuckle, and the albatross teased, "Hey now, what's that look for?"
"What do you mean, 'that look'? I was worried, Kir!" Jing looked momentarily indignant, but it faded and he sighed. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you..."
"Well for starters, you'd have to find someone else to do the Kir Roya--"
"Don't!" Jing said sharply. "Don't make jokes about that!"
Kir was taken aback by the vehement reaction, looking up at the black-haired youth, and then smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Jing. You know I didn't mean it. We're in this together, and besides, you can't get rid of me that easily." He waited until a hint of a smile had found its way back to Jing's face, and then chuckled. "'Sides, no one else'd put up with you, eh?"
"Laugh it up, wise guy, and I'll wrap your beak up instead of your wing next time."
Things were back to normal.
*
Notes: (1) Boricua is a variant type of Screwdriver. Ingredients: 1/4 Vodka (Finlandia or Absolut), 1/2 Orange juice, 1/4 Cranberry juice (Ocean Spray), Ice. Mentions: Extremely important if you are going to the beach (Puerto Rico), And necessary if going to Culebra, Puerto Rico. Source: Webtender.com
Characters: Jing + Kir (friendship category)
Fandom: King of Bandits Jing
Full list of themes can be found HERE. X-posted to 50_themes, ankhutenshi, kingofbandit
*
Title: High Tariff
Theme: #8 - Sword & Shield
Notes: 1172 words, finished Oct 23/06
Heavy footsteps pounded on the stone bridge above, orders shouted to locate the thief before he got away. The thief in question crouched silently in the shadows, using the sound of the splashing river to cover the winded breathing of himself and his partner. It had been a spectacular chase, and although his knapsack was now weighted with the jewel-encrusted goblet he'd been seeking, he was more worried about the wounded bird in his arms.
Kir's right wing hung from an awkward angle, bone protruding from the tertiary feathers. The last Kir Royale had triggered an explosion; the resulting blast had thrown them both through the wall, and the force of it had snapped one of the wings locked into place for the attack. The albatross' blood felt sticky on the boy's hands.
"We might have overdone it a bit," Jing said, trying to distract the bird's attention while he ran his fingers over the wing to assess the damage. Although he was trying to be gentle, Kir still jerked, pulling away instinctively.
"Please try to keep still, Kir," the Bandit King winced. "I'll have to set the break."
"There's something to look forward to," Kir said hoarsely.
From his position, Jing scanned the area, his gaze settling on the wooden door which led to a business' cellar. With no guards currently in sight, he made a dash for the building, and with a swipe of his blade, the lock hit the ground. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim interior. There were a few barrels and crates pushed up against the wall, which he walked to and sat.
Kir sagged limply in his arms, right wing trailing, and Jing worried his lower lip. The break is serious. If I don't set it correctly, it won't heal straight...
"Jing?" The bird raised his head at the silence, eyes dull.
"Yeah." The grey-eyed youth shifted Kir to one arm and shrugged off his coat, laying it on the crates before placing his feathered companion as gently as possible on top. "Hang on for me, I'm going to look for something to bind this with."
Jing moved through the room, exploring as much by touch as by sight, and found in one corner, a pile of cotton sacks. Prying open one of the crates produced ancient bottles of forgotten alcohol, and armed with his makeshift supplies, he arranged them on the ground and began unbuckling the blade's arm-brace, freeing his movement. "I'm sorry partner," he said, "but this is probably going to hurt a lot."
"Hurts already," Kir groaned.
Pulling the cork free of the bottle, Jing mumbled another apology before dousing the wing with alcohol. Kir thrashed; it burned even as it cleansed the wound. Before he could pull away, he felt two hands firmly grasp his wing. The world flared hazy and white as the two halves of the bone were forced back together... then nothing.
---
Kir wasn't sure how much time passed before he woke again, but the screaming pain in his wing has dulled to a tolerable throb, and he was wrapped in something warm and soft. He swallowed, tasted whiskey in the back of his throat, and coughed. "Jing?"
A rustle off to his left, and his human companion sat down on the crate next to him. "You're awake... I was hoping you'd sleep longer, you need the rest. How do you feel?"
"Bit better," Kir acknowledged, although it hurt to talk. "S'there water? M'throat's... so dry..."
Jing leaned forward to pull the waterskin from his backpack, and Kir was shocked to see that the youth's arms were covered with deep gashes. "Y'said... you were okay... when we were leaving... the palace... I asked you if --"
"Kir," Jing smiled wearily. "You made these ones."
The albatross stared, not comprehending. "I didn't... I wouldn't --"
"It's okay, partner," the Bandit King interrupted. He eased Kir into his lap, holding the skin so he could drink. Once the bird had swallowed some of the liquid, he continued to explain. "It was while I was fixing up your wing. Even after you were unconscious, it was still hurting you, and you were fighting back without knowing it. You clawed me a couple of times, that's all. It's not your fault, so don't worry about it."
Kir shifted guiltily, obviously not convinced by Jing's easy dismissal of the injuries, and craned his neck to regard his wing, now neatly bound in strips of cotton. "Thanks... it does feel better. Why do I taste whiskey?"
"I hoped it'd dull the pain and make you sleep," Jing said simply, although relief was visible on his face when the wing was examined. "I haven't heard the guards in a couple hours... maybe they've given up."
"We can hope," Kir said wryly. "What did we blow up, anyway? I didn't see any Por Vora in there..."
"Oil barrels," the Bandit King said, obviously chagrined. "That's what they had stacked in the corners, under the tarps... we hit one and they all went up."
After a moment, they both began to laugh.
---
Jing snuck them out of the city the following night. They laid low for a few weeks while Kir's wing mended, wandering through Aquavitae as spring melted into summer. Although the human didn't mention them, Kir felt uncomfortable with the gashes on Jing's arms, and was infinitely relieved when they faded to scars and then disappeared altogether.
"Ready, partner?" Jing asked one morning, as they sat on the banks of the Boricua River (1). "I'll take these bandages off."
The cotton strips were unwrapped one at a time, though he was ready to stop if Kir seemed at all hurt by it. Although the feathers beneath were matted slightly, the leading edge of the wing appeared straight. Kir flexed it cautiously, then extended it to full length. Seeing the anxious look on his partner's face, he gave Jing a wide grin. "Good as new," he proclaimed.
The sheer relief that crossed Jing's face made him chuckle, and the albatross teased, "Hey now, what's that look for?"
"What do you mean, 'that look'? I was worried, Kir!" Jing looked momentarily indignant, but it faded and he sighed. "I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you..."
"Well for starters, you'd have to find someone else to do the Kir Roya--"
"Don't!" Jing said sharply. "Don't make jokes about that!"
Kir was taken aback by the vehement reaction, looking up at the black-haired youth, and then smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Jing. You know I didn't mean it. We're in this together, and besides, you can't get rid of me that easily." He waited until a hint of a smile had found its way back to Jing's face, and then chuckled. "'Sides, no one else'd put up with you, eh?"
"Laugh it up, wise guy, and I'll wrap your beak up instead of your wing next time."
Things were back to normal.
*
Notes: (1) Boricua is a variant type of Screwdriver. Ingredients: 1/4 Vodka (Finlandia or Absolut), 1/2 Orange juice, 1/4 Cranberry juice (Ocean Spray), Ice. Mentions: Extremely important if you are going to the beach (Puerto Rico), And necessary if going to Culebra, Puerto Rico. Source: Webtender.com