(no subject)
Maple Wlanut #14. Double or Nothing with Hot Fudge and Whipped Cream
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1244
Word Count : 542
Not sure if this should maybe get sprinkles too... Kairn is never even named, but it is pretty much about him.
Lirander shuffled from foot to foot, hands thrust into the pockets of his coat, trying his best not to let so much as a thread touch any part of the filth that surrounded him. Breath all but stilled, so as not to smell them, he stared down his nose at the bedraggled procession that ambled past him and through the door.
Across the stream of small bodies that trickled past, Berwyk shuffled towards him. “How many is it this time?” Lirander asked the mage, not bothering to count the wretches himself.
“Twelve,” came the reply.
Lirander fought the compulsion to choke at that. “Is this not becoming excessive?”
Berwyk waved a gnarled hand in dismissal. “As if you’re not being well compensated.”
Lirander sniffed.
The end of the line drew into view, a particularly small boy, ragged and filthy as the rest, staggering under the weight of an equally unkempt toddler clutched in both his thin arms. Lirander looked to the mage, eyes narrowed. “We are taking babies now?”
The boy clutched his load more tightly, wide green eyes darting between the men. “I’m not leaving her,” he said.
“I thought we didn’t need girls,” said Lirander to the mage.
Berwyk frowned. “We don’t.”
The boy edged back a pace, his grip on the girl tightening further. “Then you don’t need me.” His small voice shook.
Lirander heaved a sigh and glared down at the child with a wrinkle of his nose. The last of the shabby parade slipped through the door, leaving just the three of them in the hall. “Put the girl down and come along,” he said. “I am sure someone will-”
“She’s sick,” said the boy, eyes even wider, begging, pleading. The girl clung to him, tiny fists curled around his shoulders, frightened eyes on the men, never saying a word.
“All the more reason-”
“What’s wrong with her?” said Berwyk.
Shuffling back again, the boy turned on the mage. “What do you care?”
Lirander groaned. The same look of intrigue had settled on his companion’s face as when his nose was buried in one of his precious tomes. “I am a healer,” said the mage, eyeing the girl up and down. “What’s wrong with her?”
Shifting from foot to foot, all but against the wall now, the boy ran a soothing hand over the girl’s short mess of dark, tangled locks. “She has fits,” he answered softly.
“Is that all?” said Berwyk. The boy stared back, no answer forthcoming. “I think we can take care of that.” The mage gestured him towards the door, his gaze straying back to Lirander. “We’ll take her too,” he said. “Your household can have her.”
“A baby?” said Lirander. “A girl, and an invalid at that-”
Another wave to silence him. “She’ll be just as much use to you as any other when I’m through with her.”
“But-”
“What’s one more?” Berwyk shrugged. “We’re already taking a dozen, and I am not passing this boy up over such a trifling matter.”
Lirander sighed as the boy filed past, staggering under the weight of his burden, his eyes still wide and flitting between the two of them. “As you wish,” he said, hand exploring the depths of his pocket for his purse.
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1244
Word Count : 542
Not sure if this should maybe get sprinkles too... Kairn is never even named, but it is pretty much about him.
Lirander shuffled from foot to foot, hands thrust into the pockets of his coat, trying his best not to let so much as a thread touch any part of the filth that surrounded him. Breath all but stilled, so as not to smell them, he stared down his nose at the bedraggled procession that ambled past him and through the door.
Across the stream of small bodies that trickled past, Berwyk shuffled towards him. “How many is it this time?” Lirander asked the mage, not bothering to count the wretches himself.
“Twelve,” came the reply.
Lirander fought the compulsion to choke at that. “Is this not becoming excessive?”
Berwyk waved a gnarled hand in dismissal. “As if you’re not being well compensated.”
Lirander sniffed.
The end of the line drew into view, a particularly small boy, ragged and filthy as the rest, staggering under the weight of an equally unkempt toddler clutched in both his thin arms. Lirander looked to the mage, eyes narrowed. “We are taking babies now?”
The boy clutched his load more tightly, wide green eyes darting between the men. “I’m not leaving her,” he said.
“I thought we didn’t need girls,” said Lirander to the mage.
Berwyk frowned. “We don’t.”
The boy edged back a pace, his grip on the girl tightening further. “Then you don’t need me.” His small voice shook.
Lirander heaved a sigh and glared down at the child with a wrinkle of his nose. The last of the shabby parade slipped through the door, leaving just the three of them in the hall. “Put the girl down and come along,” he said. “I am sure someone will-”
“She’s sick,” said the boy, eyes even wider, begging, pleading. The girl clung to him, tiny fists curled around his shoulders, frightened eyes on the men, never saying a word.
“All the more reason-”
“What’s wrong with her?” said Berwyk.
Shuffling back again, the boy turned on the mage. “What do you care?”
Lirander groaned. The same look of intrigue had settled on his companion’s face as when his nose was buried in one of his precious tomes. “I am a healer,” said the mage, eyeing the girl up and down. “What’s wrong with her?”
Shifting from foot to foot, all but against the wall now, the boy ran a soothing hand over the girl’s short mess of dark, tangled locks. “She has fits,” he answered softly.
“Is that all?” said Berwyk. The boy stared back, no answer forthcoming. “I think we can take care of that.” The mage gestured him towards the door, his gaze straying back to Lirander. “We’ll take her too,” he said. “Your household can have her.”
“A baby?” said Lirander. “A girl, and an invalid at that-”
Another wave to silence him. “She’ll be just as much use to you as any other when I’m through with her.”
“But-”
“What’s one more?” Berwyk shrugged. “We’re already taking a dozen, and I am not passing this boy up over such a trifling matter.”
Lirander sighed as the boy filed past, staggering under the weight of his burden, his eyes still wide and flitting between the two of them. “As you wish,” he said, hand exploring the depths of his pocket for his purse.