Prompt 60: Drink
Title: Too Much Dark
’Verse/characters: British Circle
Prompt: Drink (60)
Word Count: 1,303
Rating: PG for alcohol… don’t know if that counts, but thought I should mention it!
Notes: Cass and Kingfisher. Set about a year after the beginning of the novel.
(cut quote from Pablo Neruda)
Cass sighed, pushing the paperwork across the desk and rubbing a weary hand over his eyes. Oriel kept sending him more things to do, more suggestions for Thorn. Apparently the leader of the Divine had taken very kindly to the fact that her negotiator was close friends with the head of the Authority. More than that, he suspected that the increased workload might have something to do with Amelie. His mother really wasn’t keen on him coming back.
He was keeping on top of it, though. Just about.
Time for a break, he thought, glancing at the clock and realising that it was getting late. He really had to get out of this room…
Pushing his chair back, Cass stood up, noticing that he had grown since he first came to the Authority. The sloping eaves of his room were definitely getting closer to the top of his blonde hair. He might have to think about moving the desk.
Cass pondered that thought as he left, wondering if he could ask Thorn for a desk that would fit into the bay window that made his room so light. It was odd to find himself thinking about personalising his room: when he first moved in, over a year ago now, he wanted nothing more than to leave. Now, well… now, it felt like home.
He was just jogging down the main stairs when he heard a soft noise that alerted him to the presence of someone else. Automatically he looked with his other eyes, catching a glimpse of bright yellow magick that was very, very familiar.
Stopping, Cass turned around, looking up the stairs. No one. Where was she? Then he located her, curled up on the floor in a dark alcove on the wide landing. Frowning, he climbed back up, hurrying over to where she half lay, half sat.
“Kingfisher?”
He felt uncertain. Was she ill? Then she lifted her head and smiled at him hazily.
“Cass, is that you? What’s the matter?”
Hearing the slurring in her voice, Cass relaxed slightly. He had a very strong suspicion about what was going on here. Kingfisher had laid her head back down on her arms.
She looked very young, Cass thought as he crouched next to her, steadying himself with one hand on the dark carpet. But she wasn’t. And this certainly wasn’t about being young.
“I was wondering why you were sitting here,” he said quietly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder and bring her attention back to him. Now Cass could smell it. Not strongly, but there. Like the faint smell of perfume left in a room, it hung about her. Yes, he had been right. Heavy worry settled into his stomach in the place of his earlier, sharper anxiety.
Kingfisher snuffled softly into her arm, then looked up at him sleepily, making a vague effort to lift herself onto her elbows.
“M’ tired, Cass. It’s dark here and I’m so sleepy. Long way t’my room…” She trailed off, yawning softly.
“Come on,” Cass said, reaching out to grip her hand. “Let’s get you up to bed. You can’t sleep here.”
Reaching out gently, he caught a tendril of his magick and curled it around her. It sang softly in his mind’s eye, persuading her, calming her muddled thoughts. He took a quick look at her emotions while he was there, though he wouldn’t do it normally. He wouldn’t touch Kingfisher’s mind directly ever, if it wasn’t necessary.
Yes, he had been right. The nightmares were pinned through her thoughts, like Snow White’s poisoned comb; seeping, dripping through her feelings. He’d known she wasn’t as recovered as she’d been pretending. He’d told Thorn, but Thorn found it hard to say ‘no’ to King; even when it was for her own good. Cass suspected it was a problem of guilt.
Kingfisher protested a little, but eventually he persuaded her to stand up. She leant heavily on his arm, and Cass fought not to smile as she yawned and snuggled her head into his shoulder.
“You’re c’mfy.”
“I’m flattered,” Cass replied dryly, then slipped his arm under her shoulders. “Come on, it’s just along the corridor.”
“Cass, stop pestering…”
“But it’s so much fun.” Cass’ tone remained light, but he was concentrating on manoeuvring her along the passage. Kingfisher was tiny, but recalcitrant people are difficult to move.
Five agonisingly patient minutes later, and he had managed to persuade her into her bedroom, bright, untidy and personal. Kingfisher stumbled towards her bed on her own, but couldn’t pull the covers apart so that she could climb in.
Cass walked over and did it for her, waiting until she sat on the edge of the bed before he knelt in front of her and began to unlace her shoes. King’s eyes were closing, and her head nodded forward as she watched incuriously.
“What ‘re you doing?”
“Taking your shoes off,” Cass told her absently, concentrating on untangling the laces. Kingfisher nodded thoughtfully.
When Cass had finished, she pulled her legs up into her bed and turned onto her side, pillowing her face with one hand. Cass sighed, and pulled the covers over her, checking carefully that she was properly tucked in.
“Night, Kingfisher,” he said softly, touching her cheek with two fingers. Kingfisher blinked, raising her head with difficulty from the pillow.
“Don’t go away.”
She suddenly sounded so clear that Cass frowned at her.
“What?”
“Please don’t leave me in the dark…”
Her eyes were closing even as she finished the sentence, but a moment later she looked up at him again. Cass had frozen at her last sentence, but making a quick decision, he pulled up the desk chair so that he could sit down next to the bed. Kingfisher, seeming to be satisfied, lay down again. She didn’t seem to be about to sleep now, Cass thought. Her alarm seemed to have woken her up.
“Why did you do it tonight, King?” he asked softly. “You know alcohol and magick don’t mix.”
She laughed, her mouth half turned into the pillow.
“Stop me remembering,” she told him, though he could barely hear the words. “Stop thinking…”
Cass hadn’t expected any other answer and he said nothing. Instead he reached out and grasped her fingers, curled around the edge of her quilt.
“You aren’t sleeping well, are you?” he asked quietly, in case she was already asleep again. Kingfisher shook her head.
“Too much dark.”
Any other time the phrasing would have made him laugh.
“I’ll stay with you,” he said seriously, gripping her hand a little tighter. “I promise.”
Kingfisher raised her head a little from the pillow and finally opened her eyes properly. Cass blinked at the clear dark gaze fixed on him, then smiled tentatively. King positively beamed back.
“I know you will,” she said simply, then lay back down as suddenly as she had risen.
Cass smiled, holding her hand as her breathing steadied and slowed into natural sleep. Looking around the cheerful room, he let his face relax and his eyes shut for a second. It was going to be a long time before Kingfisher was as well as she said she was.
She glanced up at him for a moment, then yawned. Cass glanced at her, to catch her smiling dreamily at him.
“Cass,” she said vaguely. He raised his eyebrows in response, but she clearly wasn’t addressing him. “Cass,” Kingfisher repeated. “Cass, lass, mass…”
Her voice dropped, and when Cass looked back she was fast asleep. He rubbed his eyes for the second time that evening, and tucked his feet up on the chair. He had promised he wouldn’t go away- and he wouldn’t.
Shutting his eyes, the Angel leant back in his chair. He didn’t remember that he was still holding Kingfisher’s hand.
’Verse/characters: British Circle
Prompt: Drink (60)
Word Count: 1,303
Rating: PG for alcohol… don’t know if that counts, but thought I should mention it!
Notes: Cass and Kingfisher. Set about a year after the beginning of the novel.
(cut quote from Pablo Neruda)
Cass sighed, pushing the paperwork across the desk and rubbing a weary hand over his eyes. Oriel kept sending him more things to do, more suggestions for Thorn. Apparently the leader of the Divine had taken very kindly to the fact that her negotiator was close friends with the head of the Authority. More than that, he suspected that the increased workload might have something to do with Amelie. His mother really wasn’t keen on him coming back.
He was keeping on top of it, though. Just about.
Time for a break, he thought, glancing at the clock and realising that it was getting late. He really had to get out of this room…
Pushing his chair back, Cass stood up, noticing that he had grown since he first came to the Authority. The sloping eaves of his room were definitely getting closer to the top of his blonde hair. He might have to think about moving the desk.
Cass pondered that thought as he left, wondering if he could ask Thorn for a desk that would fit into the bay window that made his room so light. It was odd to find himself thinking about personalising his room: when he first moved in, over a year ago now, he wanted nothing more than to leave. Now, well… now, it felt like home.
He was just jogging down the main stairs when he heard a soft noise that alerted him to the presence of someone else. Automatically he looked with his other eyes, catching a glimpse of bright yellow magick that was very, very familiar.
Stopping, Cass turned around, looking up the stairs. No one. Where was she? Then he located her, curled up on the floor in a dark alcove on the wide landing. Frowning, he climbed back up, hurrying over to where she half lay, half sat.
“Kingfisher?”
He felt uncertain. Was she ill? Then she lifted her head and smiled at him hazily.
“Cass, is that you? What’s the matter?”
Hearing the slurring in her voice, Cass relaxed slightly. He had a very strong suspicion about what was going on here. Kingfisher had laid her head back down on her arms.
She looked very young, Cass thought as he crouched next to her, steadying himself with one hand on the dark carpet. But she wasn’t. And this certainly wasn’t about being young.
“I was wondering why you were sitting here,” he said quietly, reaching out a hand to touch her shoulder and bring her attention back to him. Now Cass could smell it. Not strongly, but there. Like the faint smell of perfume left in a room, it hung about her. Yes, he had been right. Heavy worry settled into his stomach in the place of his earlier, sharper anxiety.
Kingfisher snuffled softly into her arm, then looked up at him sleepily, making a vague effort to lift herself onto her elbows.
“M’ tired, Cass. It’s dark here and I’m so sleepy. Long way t’my room…” She trailed off, yawning softly.
“Come on,” Cass said, reaching out to grip her hand. “Let’s get you up to bed. You can’t sleep here.”
Reaching out gently, he caught a tendril of his magick and curled it around her. It sang softly in his mind’s eye, persuading her, calming her muddled thoughts. He took a quick look at her emotions while he was there, though he wouldn’t do it normally. He wouldn’t touch Kingfisher’s mind directly ever, if it wasn’t necessary.
Yes, he had been right. The nightmares were pinned through her thoughts, like Snow White’s poisoned comb; seeping, dripping through her feelings. He’d known she wasn’t as recovered as she’d been pretending. He’d told Thorn, but Thorn found it hard to say ‘no’ to King; even when it was for her own good. Cass suspected it was a problem of guilt.
Kingfisher protested a little, but eventually he persuaded her to stand up. She leant heavily on his arm, and Cass fought not to smile as she yawned and snuggled her head into his shoulder.
“You’re c’mfy.”
“I’m flattered,” Cass replied dryly, then slipped his arm under her shoulders. “Come on, it’s just along the corridor.”
“Cass, stop pestering…”
“But it’s so much fun.” Cass’ tone remained light, but he was concentrating on manoeuvring her along the passage. Kingfisher was tiny, but recalcitrant people are difficult to move.
Five agonisingly patient minutes later, and he had managed to persuade her into her bedroom, bright, untidy and personal. Kingfisher stumbled towards her bed on her own, but couldn’t pull the covers apart so that she could climb in.
Cass walked over and did it for her, waiting until she sat on the edge of the bed before he knelt in front of her and began to unlace her shoes. King’s eyes were closing, and her head nodded forward as she watched incuriously.
“What ‘re you doing?”
“Taking your shoes off,” Cass told her absently, concentrating on untangling the laces. Kingfisher nodded thoughtfully.
When Cass had finished, she pulled her legs up into her bed and turned onto her side, pillowing her face with one hand. Cass sighed, and pulled the covers over her, checking carefully that she was properly tucked in.
“Night, Kingfisher,” he said softly, touching her cheek with two fingers. Kingfisher blinked, raising her head with difficulty from the pillow.
“Don’t go away.”
She suddenly sounded so clear that Cass frowned at her.
“What?”
“Please don’t leave me in the dark…”
Her eyes were closing even as she finished the sentence, but a moment later she looked up at him again. Cass had frozen at her last sentence, but making a quick decision, he pulled up the desk chair so that he could sit down next to the bed. Kingfisher, seeming to be satisfied, lay down again. She didn’t seem to be about to sleep now, Cass thought. Her alarm seemed to have woken her up.
“Why did you do it tonight, King?” he asked softly. “You know alcohol and magick don’t mix.”
She laughed, her mouth half turned into the pillow.
“Stop me remembering,” she told him, though he could barely hear the words. “Stop thinking…”
Cass hadn’t expected any other answer and he said nothing. Instead he reached out and grasped her fingers, curled around the edge of her quilt.
“You aren’t sleeping well, are you?” he asked quietly, in case she was already asleep again. Kingfisher shook her head.
“Too much dark.”
Any other time the phrasing would have made him laugh.
“I’ll stay with you,” he said seriously, gripping her hand a little tighter. “I promise.”
Kingfisher raised her head a little from the pillow and finally opened her eyes properly. Cass blinked at the clear dark gaze fixed on him, then smiled tentatively. King positively beamed back.
“I know you will,” she said simply, then lay back down as suddenly as she had risen.
Cass smiled, holding her hand as her breathing steadied and slowed into natural sleep. Looking around the cheerful room, he let his face relax and his eyes shut for a second. It was going to be a long time before Kingfisher was as well as she said she was.
She glanced up at him for a moment, then yawned. Cass glanced at her, to catch her smiling dreamily at him.
“Cass,” she said vaguely. He raised his eyebrows in response, but she clearly wasn’t addressing him. “Cass,” Kingfisher repeated. “Cass, lass, mass…”
Her voice dropped, and when Cass looked back she was fast asleep. He rubbed his eyes for the second time that evening, and tucked his feet up on the chair. He had promised he wouldn’t go away- and he wouldn’t.
Shutting his eyes, the Angel leant back in his chair. He didn’t remember that he was still holding Kingfisher’s hand.