15-minute fic
Title: Once Bitten
Rating: G
Summary: Prompt 193 from daily15; same universe as "Maybe," set when Annibella first has been captured and brought to the village, as told by the son of the mayor
The word is fair
It wasn't fair. He couldn't exactly explain why, or how, but it wasn't fair. Watching her walk down the street, adorned with jewels and silks and the finest of the fine, Arine felt a sickness rise in his throat, the kind that he had felt as a little boy watching his classmates taunt a wounded dog that had wandered into the schoolyard in search of shelter. The girl, standing tall and looking beautiful, probably seemed like a fun playtoy to the rest of the village. But in her eyes, almost hidden behind the painted lashes and ordimented lids, he saw a look of defeated pain, the same look that the dog had looked at him with those years before.
"Stop huting him!"
"Mind your own business, Arine. He's going to die anyway."
"Stop it!"
Fists, shoves, kicks, pain.
"We told you to stay out of it. Mind your own business and go away!"
"No."
The teacher's voice, the other boys rushing, gone, just the boy and the dog left in the field. Silence. Tentative walking, a tentative hand reaching out to a hurt comrad.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
Closer, closer. Snarl.
"Please... I just want to help you."
Blind fear, sharp teeth, a bite, a scar, a terrified animal rusing back to the forest, a boy left with nothing to show for his courage and compassion but a bleeding hand.
"It's not fair," a whisper. Not letting himself cry, not letting the others win. Life wasn't fair.
He wanted to scream, to stop the parade, to stop his mother from looking so proud, to stop his father from looking so smug. He wanted to tear off those disgusting necklaces and shawls and that awful headpiece and everything and give her back the clothes that were sitting underneath his mother's bed, make her forget everything they had forced into her head while he was gone, and make this all disappear. She shouldn't have to go through this, not that girl. She belonged out there, in the forest with the dog, not here, trapped by boys throwing rocks, women fawning over painted nails.
It wasn't fair to see such a spirit trapped in the land of mortals. She didn't even understand what was happening, let alone how to escape, not even the danger she was in by staying. His parents would ruin her, crush her, take what was hers and replace it with what was theirs, what was the villages, what was everyone's, identical, stale, disgusting, pale. She only had her mind now, no more fighting left in her body save the spark that survived in those two hidden eyes. And soon, that would be gone, too. He wanted to scream for them to stop breaking her, to stop huting her. But would she understand that he was taking away the gems to save her soul? Or would she only see him as a threat, worse than the rest? Would she understand what real help was, not "civilization" but freedom?
Arine looked at his hand, traced the old scar tenderly with his finger. He had been bitten before, had learned his lesson. He could not do anything but watch in disgusted helplessness.
Still, he mused to himself, forcing himself to detatch and not be so upset over things he could not control, it wasn't fair.
Rating: G
Summary: Prompt 193 from daily15; same universe as "Maybe," set when Annibella first has been captured and brought to the village, as told by the son of the mayor
The word is fair
It wasn't fair. He couldn't exactly explain why, or how, but it wasn't fair. Watching her walk down the street, adorned with jewels and silks and the finest of the fine, Arine felt a sickness rise in his throat, the kind that he had felt as a little boy watching his classmates taunt a wounded dog that had wandered into the schoolyard in search of shelter. The girl, standing tall and looking beautiful, probably seemed like a fun playtoy to the rest of the village. But in her eyes, almost hidden behind the painted lashes and ordimented lids, he saw a look of defeated pain, the same look that the dog had looked at him with those years before.
"Stop huting him!"
"Mind your own business, Arine. He's going to die anyway."
"Stop it!"
Fists, shoves, kicks, pain.
"We told you to stay out of it. Mind your own business and go away!"
"No."
The teacher's voice, the other boys rushing, gone, just the boy and the dog left in the field. Silence. Tentative walking, a tentative hand reaching out to a hurt comrad.
"I'm not going to hurt you."
Closer, closer. Snarl.
"Please... I just want to help you."
Blind fear, sharp teeth, a bite, a scar, a terrified animal rusing back to the forest, a boy left with nothing to show for his courage and compassion but a bleeding hand.
"It's not fair," a whisper. Not letting himself cry, not letting the others win. Life wasn't fair.
He wanted to scream, to stop the parade, to stop his mother from looking so proud, to stop his father from looking so smug. He wanted to tear off those disgusting necklaces and shawls and that awful headpiece and everything and give her back the clothes that were sitting underneath his mother's bed, make her forget everything they had forced into her head while he was gone, and make this all disappear. She shouldn't have to go through this, not that girl. She belonged out there, in the forest with the dog, not here, trapped by boys throwing rocks, women fawning over painted nails.
It wasn't fair to see such a spirit trapped in the land of mortals. She didn't even understand what was happening, let alone how to escape, not even the danger she was in by staying. His parents would ruin her, crush her, take what was hers and replace it with what was theirs, what was the villages, what was everyone's, identical, stale, disgusting, pale. She only had her mind now, no more fighting left in her body save the spark that survived in those two hidden eyes. And soon, that would be gone, too. He wanted to scream for them to stop breaking her, to stop huting her. But would she understand that he was taking away the gems to save her soul? Or would she only see him as a threat, worse than the rest? Would she understand what real help was, not "civilization" but freedom?
Arine looked at his hand, traced the old scar tenderly with his finger. He had been bitten before, had learned his lesson. He could not do anything but watch in disgusted helplessness.
Still, he mused to himself, forcing himself to detatch and not be so upset over things he could not control, it wasn't fair.