Story Time!
I've had this kicking around my hard-drive for a while, so I'll go ahead and actually post it.
Kerik descended the stairs into the tower's dungeon, carefully holding a torch aloft. His aunt had done all she could to dissuade him from doing this. He wasn't even sure that he should be doing this, given who was kept down here. He shook his head slightly, as if to banish the thought and the feelings that welled-up unbidden. She had first tried to convince him that she wouldn't remember, then that she wouldn't say anything, only glare at him coldly from her cell, and finally, that it was dangerous. But none of this convinced him. He knew her, of course, or, well enough. She was a monster. That's what his aunt had said, but he had been reluctant to agree. She had kept her word, that time.
In the end, his aunt had relented with a sigh, saying only, "You truly are your mother's son. Just, watch yourself." She also promised not to tell his father. He knew his father would be angry if he knew what he was up to. He was a broken man who spent his days and nights drinking. He would fly into drunken rages and beat his son, only to appear, hours later, weeping and begging forgiveness. His aunt took him in, and, in her way, had tried to explain his father. Why he was in such a state, what he couldn't get over, but she was merely extrapolating, only guessing. That was part of why he was descending into the dungeon to his face his nightmare.
It was a small dungeon, built only to hold her. As he rounded the corner from the stairwell, he saw her. She was thin and ghastly pale. She sat against the back wall of her cell, flinching slightly as the light from the torch washed over her. He rested the torch in a wall-clasp and turned to face her, shivering slightly as he locked eyes with her. She looked away quickly, smiling slightly.
"What do you want?
Kerik nearly jumped. He hadn't expected her to say anything.
"Uhhh, I-I'm K-ker-" but she cut him off,
"I don't care who you are, so don't waste your breath."
What did he want from her? He wasn't sure. He decided it probably wasn't the best idea to ask her about the incident yet, but what?
"Um, h-how are you today?"
She laughed. The sound of it made Kerik's blood curdle.
"Just great! It was always my life's dream to be locked in a dark, moldy cell, with only Halfie for company! A true paradise! What's your next question going to be, if I enjoy the food?"
Kerik stiffened at her words, but held back his anger. She wanted him to be angry, he reasoned.
"Sorry. Do you remember why you're here?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Because I'm a bad girl who keeps breaking her toys. Really now, if you're just going to bore me, I was having a riveting conversation with the lichen earlier..."
Kerik gulped. "Your toys?"
"Yeah, so? Are you going to preach to me about how they were people with feelings and lives and dreams? I didn't care and never will."
Kerik wasn't sure quite what she intended.
"Why? Why did you do it?"
She shifted slightly and smiled, waving her finger dismissively.
"Nuh-uh! That's all you get for free! The rest will cost ya."
"Cost me what?"
She paused, apparently in consideration.
"Hmm, for the next conversation, I want you to bring me some soap and water. And a decent set of clothes. Halfie doesn't care how dirty I get, but if I'm to have a gentleman caller, I intend to look my best."
Her request confused Kerik. It seemed almost...normal, somehow, that a woman locked in a cell would want to wash herself.
"Alright. I'll do as you ask."
"Good boy! Now begone! I tire of you."
Kerik was back the next day, bearing a thin, saucer-like basin of water, soap, and clothes. He waited to descend into the dungeon until his aunt was locked in her study, looking over the notes she had collected on various plants over the course of her travels. She had been an adventurer and sometimes mercenary with his parents and various family friends. However, only his uncle would tell stories. His father and aunt were silent. Any mention of those times would bring a dark, chilling pall over them. He had tried to learn what he could from his uncle, but he hadn't been there that night. And so he resigned himself to being an errand boy for the woman who had robbed him of his mother.
"What's the long face for? If I'm going to have to put up with you, you're going to have to stop stomping about like you're at a funeral."
She laughed again. He nearly dropped the basin at the sound.
"I've brought you the things you requested."
He shined the torch on them. She studied them imperiously.
"Hmph. You've managed to get my least favorite soap. My poor skin shall curse your ignorance. And those clothes! You think me an old hag, like Halfie?"
"She's not old."
"Neither am I! But she acts it, y'know? Always scowling, mumbling about gods only know what. An old, bitter hag."
"Do you want your bath, or not?"
"You're always scowling too! Fine, whatever. Slide that stuff under the bottom. Y'know boy, there was a day when I could kill you with that much water, but can't no more. Ah, for those days..."
Kerik shuddered, but thought he could get her talking about this, vile though it was, "Why did go around killing all those people?"
"Turn around first, will you? I do have modesty!"
Kerik obediently turned around, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Simple, really! It was fun. Fighting, killing, all that. The only thing that was."
"Fun?"
"You think I'm a monster, but we all pursue what we do best, right? Well, uhh...well, I can't really remember actually. Memory's hazy, but, anyways, I was never good at anything else. After my mom died, I had no one and nothing but some backwater posting somewhere."
"Where? What do you mean?"
"I was a Countess. Yep. In Kurikas somewhere. Don't remember where. But I was the apple of the Emperor's eye."
"Really now? How so?"
"Oh, I was a brilliant administrator."
"You just said you weren't any good at anything!"
"Did I? Well, turns out you can do real good just by cooking the books and putting the fear of death into the right people. But the Emperor hired some bitch to investigate me. Got caught, barely escaped, killed a bunch of villagers in anger on the way. Good stress relief."
Kerik's eyes lit up. That bit was actually in line with some of what his uncle had said. The "legendary" Marie, if his memory served. Of course, she really wasn't all that famous, but uncle certainly made her sound like it.
"So I threw together a bunch of goons to get revenge, but, uhh...what's his name? Right, Pussy-cat! He burned me good. The bitch died soon after, from illness, not from me, sadly. And then I spent a bunch of time trying to get back at him."
His father, of course.
"But why? It doesn't make sense to do that. Why not accrue some sort of power-base?"
"I'm dressed, turn around boy."
Kerik turned around. The clothes hung off her thin body loosely.
"Feels like I'm wearing a sack! Seriously, don't you have any clue about sizes?"
"Actually, I got my sister to sew them quick-like."
"Well, tell her she's a horrible tailor and that I'd kill her if I had paid for this junk!"
She laughed again. Kerik was beginning to believe that violence truly was the only thing that amused her.
"As for your question, you're dull boy! All that stuff is boring. Too much time. Just get right to the good part! Kill, kill, kill!"
"But, if you had, you could've-
"Enough, I'm sick of you! Bring a knife next time, so I can do something about my nails and hair!"
The next day, when his aunt was once again shut in her study writing her treatise on plants, Kerik descended the stairs, knife in hand. He walked slowly, clutching the knife tentively. He wasn't certain what to do with it. He couldn't help but worry about giving her a weapon, but then he reminded himself she was behind bars, and also weak from years of confinement. When he thought about it, she didn't even seem so menacing anymore. Like a toothless snake...
"What're you doing lollygagging around for, boy!? Pass me the damned dagger!"
She snapped him back to reality. She reached a hand out eagerly, as if to beg him.
"Alright, alright. A deal's a deal. Here you go," he said, sliding the dagger along the floor into her cell. She snatched it up and cut savagely at her hair, before turning her back to him.
"What do you want from me, boy? You obviously want something, if you're doing all this. Out with it!"
"I-I want to know. Why didn't you kill me? Why did you spare me?"
She snorted, "Because that was the deal your mother made. And I kept it."
"But...that's not it, at all. Why would you even honor such a request?"
She turned slightly, to look at him, clutching her hand against the dress she was wearing. She regarded him silently for what seemed like minutes, apparently lost in thought.
"You know how I tried to kill the bitch, and she got saved by your stupid daddy, right?"
He nodded.
"Well then, you're looking at the side of my face he burned."
Kerik looked at her face for a moment, not comprehending.
"Are you blind? It's not scarred!"
"I'm sorry, it's dim. I hadn't noticed it. I never knew to look for scars."
"They're not there! Whatever. When I was running away, I ran into a woman. She apologized profusely. Before I knew it, she put her hand on my face. I almost killed her then and there, but...she healed me. I mean, you can't heal anything too serious completely, but she made the pain go away."
"That was my mother?"
"I never understood why."
"She was a good person. Always helping those in need."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"Because it's pointless. She helped me, and I wound up killing her. Doesn't seem like she made out very well. Neither did my mother, for that matter."
"Your mother? What happened to her?"
"She was always working with people to improve their lives. Building irrigation canals, roads, hospitals, the works. Whenever I asked her why, she'd always tell me that kindness was its own reward. Then some one cut her throat in her sleep."
"That's, that's...terrible."
"You think?"
Silence fell, leaving Kerik to reflect on what she had said. Could she have been different? He didn't know. He didn't know what to think. Were monsters born, or, perhaps, were they made?
A light thud and a sigh interrupted him. It was then he realized that she had collapsed. He grabbed the torch of the wall and illuminated the cell.
She lay in the cell, her face and front towards him, in a growing pool of blood. It gushed forth from her wrists, and stained her dress. He frantically fumbled for the key and rushed to her.
She smiled at him.
"It's too late. You really are gullible, boy."
He kneeled beside her and picked her up. He looked into her fading eyes.
“I'm sorry Ma'am. I should've known..."
“Runs in the family, I guess."
She laughed, a bitter, sad shadow of a laugh.
“She really thought I could change...your mother. She really did. The only person in the whole world that thought I could be something else.
And I killed her."
Kerik bristled, “I know. I was there. But...you didn't kill me. That's what she asked of you."
She looked away, above his shoulder. “I'm sorry."
The words stunned Kerik into silence
"Mother?"
Kerik looked behind him, but saw no one there.
"You see your mother?"
"Yes, but...why? Why is she there? She's dead."
Kerik thought for a moment, and the answer came, in a flash of understanding.
"Because she loves you. No matter what. She's your mother, after all."
"That's...love? I don't get it."
"I'm sure you will, some day."
Her limp form did not answer. Kerik wondered if she had even heard him. In that instant, he forgave her. She had always been a wretched and desperate creature, robbed of all the joys of life, but spared none of its agonies. In her rage at this loss that she could feel but not comprehend, she sought to make the world pay, but it could never pay enough. She couldn't save herself and she killed the one person who ever tried to save her. Kerik cradled his mother's murderer in his arms, and knew peace.
It's not really finished. I think it needs more meat on its bones, personally.
Kerik descended the stairs into the tower's dungeon, carefully holding a torch aloft. His aunt had done all she could to dissuade him from doing this. He wasn't even sure that he should be doing this, given who was kept down here. He shook his head slightly, as if to banish the thought and the feelings that welled-up unbidden. She had first tried to convince him that she wouldn't remember, then that she wouldn't say anything, only glare at him coldly from her cell, and finally, that it was dangerous. But none of this convinced him. He knew her, of course, or, well enough. She was a monster. That's what his aunt had said, but he had been reluctant to agree. She had kept her word, that time.
In the end, his aunt had relented with a sigh, saying only, "You truly are your mother's son. Just, watch yourself." She also promised not to tell his father. He knew his father would be angry if he knew what he was up to. He was a broken man who spent his days and nights drinking. He would fly into drunken rages and beat his son, only to appear, hours later, weeping and begging forgiveness. His aunt took him in, and, in her way, had tried to explain his father. Why he was in such a state, what he couldn't get over, but she was merely extrapolating, only guessing. That was part of why he was descending into the dungeon to his face his nightmare.
It was a small dungeon, built only to hold her. As he rounded the corner from the stairwell, he saw her. She was thin and ghastly pale. She sat against the back wall of her cell, flinching slightly as the light from the torch washed over her. He rested the torch in a wall-clasp and turned to face her, shivering slightly as he locked eyes with her. She looked away quickly, smiling slightly.
"What do you want?
Kerik nearly jumped. He hadn't expected her to say anything.
"Uhhh, I-I'm K-ker-" but she cut him off,
"I don't care who you are, so don't waste your breath."
What did he want from her? He wasn't sure. He decided it probably wasn't the best idea to ask her about the incident yet, but what?
"Um, h-how are you today?"
She laughed. The sound of it made Kerik's blood curdle.
"Just great! It was always my life's dream to be locked in a dark, moldy cell, with only Halfie for company! A true paradise! What's your next question going to be, if I enjoy the food?"
Kerik stiffened at her words, but held back his anger. She wanted him to be angry, he reasoned.
"Sorry. Do you remember why you're here?"
She rolled her eyes.
"Because I'm a bad girl who keeps breaking her toys. Really now, if you're just going to bore me, I was having a riveting conversation with the lichen earlier..."
Kerik gulped. "Your toys?"
"Yeah, so? Are you going to preach to me about how they were people with feelings and lives and dreams? I didn't care and never will."
Kerik wasn't sure quite what she intended.
"Why? Why did you do it?"
She shifted slightly and smiled, waving her finger dismissively.
"Nuh-uh! That's all you get for free! The rest will cost ya."
"Cost me what?"
She paused, apparently in consideration.
"Hmm, for the next conversation, I want you to bring me some soap and water. And a decent set of clothes. Halfie doesn't care how dirty I get, but if I'm to have a gentleman caller, I intend to look my best."
Her request confused Kerik. It seemed almost...normal, somehow, that a woman locked in a cell would want to wash herself.
"Alright. I'll do as you ask."
"Good boy! Now begone! I tire of you."
Kerik was back the next day, bearing a thin, saucer-like basin of water, soap, and clothes. He waited to descend into the dungeon until his aunt was locked in her study, looking over the notes she had collected on various plants over the course of her travels. She had been an adventurer and sometimes mercenary with his parents and various family friends. However, only his uncle would tell stories. His father and aunt were silent. Any mention of those times would bring a dark, chilling pall over them. He had tried to learn what he could from his uncle, but he hadn't been there that night. And so he resigned himself to being an errand boy for the woman who had robbed him of his mother.
"What's the long face for? If I'm going to have to put up with you, you're going to have to stop stomping about like you're at a funeral."
She laughed again. He nearly dropped the basin at the sound.
"I've brought you the things you requested."
He shined the torch on them. She studied them imperiously.
"Hmph. You've managed to get my least favorite soap. My poor skin shall curse your ignorance. And those clothes! You think me an old hag, like Halfie?"
"She's not old."
"Neither am I! But she acts it, y'know? Always scowling, mumbling about gods only know what. An old, bitter hag."
"Do you want your bath, or not?"
"You're always scowling too! Fine, whatever. Slide that stuff under the bottom. Y'know boy, there was a day when I could kill you with that much water, but can't no more. Ah, for those days..."
Kerik shuddered, but thought he could get her talking about this, vile though it was, "Why did go around killing all those people?"
"Turn around first, will you? I do have modesty!"
Kerik obediently turned around, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Simple, really! It was fun. Fighting, killing, all that. The only thing that was."
"Fun?"
"You think I'm a monster, but we all pursue what we do best, right? Well, uhh...well, I can't really remember actually. Memory's hazy, but, anyways, I was never good at anything else. After my mom died, I had no one and nothing but some backwater posting somewhere."
"Where? What do you mean?"
"I was a Countess. Yep. In Kurikas somewhere. Don't remember where. But I was the apple of the Emperor's eye."
"Really now? How so?"
"Oh, I was a brilliant administrator."
"You just said you weren't any good at anything!"
"Did I? Well, turns out you can do real good just by cooking the books and putting the fear of death into the right people. But the Emperor hired some bitch to investigate me. Got caught, barely escaped, killed a bunch of villagers in anger on the way. Good stress relief."
Kerik's eyes lit up. That bit was actually in line with some of what his uncle had said. The "legendary" Marie, if his memory served. Of course, she really wasn't all that famous, but uncle certainly made her sound like it.
"So I threw together a bunch of goons to get revenge, but, uhh...what's his name? Right, Pussy-cat! He burned me good. The bitch died soon after, from illness, not from me, sadly. And then I spent a bunch of time trying to get back at him."
His father, of course.
"But why? It doesn't make sense to do that. Why not accrue some sort of power-base?"
"I'm dressed, turn around boy."
Kerik turned around. The clothes hung off her thin body loosely.
"Feels like I'm wearing a sack! Seriously, don't you have any clue about sizes?"
"Actually, I got my sister to sew them quick-like."
"Well, tell her she's a horrible tailor and that I'd kill her if I had paid for this junk!"
She laughed again. Kerik was beginning to believe that violence truly was the only thing that amused her.
"As for your question, you're dull boy! All that stuff is boring. Too much time. Just get right to the good part! Kill, kill, kill!"
"But, if you had, you could've-
"Enough, I'm sick of you! Bring a knife next time, so I can do something about my nails and hair!"
The next day, when his aunt was once again shut in her study writing her treatise on plants, Kerik descended the stairs, knife in hand. He walked slowly, clutching the knife tentively. He wasn't certain what to do with it. He couldn't help but worry about giving her a weapon, but then he reminded himself she was behind bars, and also weak from years of confinement. When he thought about it, she didn't even seem so menacing anymore. Like a toothless snake...
"What're you doing lollygagging around for, boy!? Pass me the damned dagger!"
She snapped him back to reality. She reached a hand out eagerly, as if to beg him.
"Alright, alright. A deal's a deal. Here you go," he said, sliding the dagger along the floor into her cell. She snatched it up and cut savagely at her hair, before turning her back to him.
"What do you want from me, boy? You obviously want something, if you're doing all this. Out with it!"
"I-I want to know. Why didn't you kill me? Why did you spare me?"
She snorted, "Because that was the deal your mother made. And I kept it."
"But...that's not it, at all. Why would you even honor such a request?"
She turned slightly, to look at him, clutching her hand against the dress she was wearing. She regarded him silently for what seemed like minutes, apparently lost in thought.
"You know how I tried to kill the bitch, and she got saved by your stupid daddy, right?"
He nodded.
"Well then, you're looking at the side of my face he burned."
Kerik looked at her face for a moment, not comprehending.
"Are you blind? It's not scarred!"
"I'm sorry, it's dim. I hadn't noticed it. I never knew to look for scars."
"They're not there! Whatever. When I was running away, I ran into a woman. She apologized profusely. Before I knew it, she put her hand on my face. I almost killed her then and there, but...she healed me. I mean, you can't heal anything too serious completely, but she made the pain go away."
"That was my mother?"
"I never understood why."
"She was a good person. Always helping those in need."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
"Because it's pointless. She helped me, and I wound up killing her. Doesn't seem like she made out very well. Neither did my mother, for that matter."
"Your mother? What happened to her?"
"She was always working with people to improve their lives. Building irrigation canals, roads, hospitals, the works. Whenever I asked her why, she'd always tell me that kindness was its own reward. Then some one cut her throat in her sleep."
"That's, that's...terrible."
"You think?"
Silence fell, leaving Kerik to reflect on what she had said. Could she have been different? He didn't know. He didn't know what to think. Were monsters born, or, perhaps, were they made?
A light thud and a sigh interrupted him. It was then he realized that she had collapsed. He grabbed the torch of the wall and illuminated the cell.
She lay in the cell, her face and front towards him, in a growing pool of blood. It gushed forth from her wrists, and stained her dress. He frantically fumbled for the key and rushed to her.
She smiled at him.
"It's too late. You really are gullible, boy."
He kneeled beside her and picked her up. He looked into her fading eyes.
“I'm sorry Ma'am. I should've known..."
“Runs in the family, I guess."
She laughed, a bitter, sad shadow of a laugh.
“She really thought I could change...your mother. She really did. The only person in the whole world that thought I could be something else.
And I killed her."
Kerik bristled, “I know. I was there. But...you didn't kill me. That's what she asked of you."
She looked away, above his shoulder. “I'm sorry."
The words stunned Kerik into silence
"Mother?"
Kerik looked behind him, but saw no one there.
"You see your mother?"
"Yes, but...why? Why is she there? She's dead."
Kerik thought for a moment, and the answer came, in a flash of understanding.
"Because she loves you. No matter what. She's your mother, after all."
"That's...love? I don't get it."
"I'm sure you will, some day."
Her limp form did not answer. Kerik wondered if she had even heard him. In that instant, he forgave her. She had always been a wretched and desperate creature, robbed of all the joys of life, but spared none of its agonies. In her rage at this loss that she could feel but not comprehend, she sought to make the world pay, but it could never pay enough. She couldn't save herself and she killed the one person who ever tried to save her. Kerik cradled his mother's murderer in his arms, and knew peace.
It's not really finished. I think it needs more meat on its bones, personally.