(no subject)
So meh, working on this scene was kinda annoying, but I take some pleasure in letting Tellan's sister be a relentless bitch. Had some trouble with this, characterization and it possibly being boring and sucky, but I thought it turned out fairly well. Toil is not at all happy about how things are going, and she's going to have to figure out soon that she has to start changing because what she's doing is getting her continually screwed.
Toil turned as Tell jumped on her horse with an excited cry. In the distance, two figures broke up the relentless plain. Both on horseback, they were coming slow towards them. Tellan kneed her little horse into a gallop and was gone in a smear of tan cloak. Toil cursed, bellowed her name, dropped whatever she was doing and ran for her mount.
She was so afraid that something had happened. Her heart soared to see her sister’s colours draped over the dark brown of her warhorse. Mother would be beside herself. She was losing one daughter and gaining another. They’d go back and feast and everyone would pass the baby around, and Cap would come and she’d hold it so gently…
She yelled Fharr’s name over the horse’s hooves. Close enough now to see her long dark hair framing her narrow face, dark brows pulled together in a characteristic frown. The big brown warhorse stamped its feet. Tell looked past the long bow that had been a part of her sister’s arm since she joined the army, searching for a baby sling. Tellan pulled up her horse, gasped, “Sister! Where is the child?”
“I nearly put an arrow in you, stupid!” Fharr notched an arrow to her longbow. “Get behind me!” Tellan shook her head. “I’m sorry, sister, but you shouldn’t worry --” Headstrong Fharr probably wouldn’t get along with her quiet friend, but she would get her to tell Toil all about the army admissions test. It would help give her confidence. Fharr’s narrow shoulders were strapped with weapons, her Lady charm hanging outside her cloak. Heavy grey cloak flung back, she suddenly saw her sister’s stomach. Tellan’s genial face drained of colour. Before she could speak, Fharr’s warhorse shoved hers aside, as she blurted, “-it’s only Toil.”
“You’re in the way!” Fharr screamed, aiming at the familiar figure, hunched over the straining horse. Fharr’s bolt drew back. She was one of the Monolith’s finest archers. She wouldn’t miss. Tellan stared frozen on her horse, hands light on the reins, the same fear that gripped her the night of the raid squeezing the life out of her now. Her sister would not -could not-- shoot the arrow into Toil and knock her dead off her horse. She was not going to witness it. It wasn’t going to happen. Black eyes were ringed white. Her sister’s lady medallion suddenly gleamed in the fading light. Tellan’s mind snapped out of a white panic. “Wait!” Threw herself off her horse, missed, slid off the rump of Fharr’s mount. Fell on her hands and knees, grabbed her sister’s leg. “STOP!”
Other horse pulled up with a whinny, its occupant’s pale hair blown back. Fharr hissed a string of curses that would have made the General proud. Both horses circled, blowing air through their nostrils. Her sister grabbing at her leg like a rock lichen. She wouldn’t know a dangerous person even if they were putting a knife into her for the second time. Still, something bothered her, seomthing that made hjer not loose the arrow. Now the stranger was too damn close for a second shot if -
By the Lady’s tits.
“You’d look good with an arrow in your chest, you waterveined fatherfucking cowshit,” Fharr snapped, her eyes blazing down the shaft at her missing army-mate.
“Toil!” Tellan wailed. Pale, soft hands pulling at her like a child’s.
“Shut up, sister!” Fharr spat, “Oh you sly dog. This is her? This is the surrogate?” Blazing eye now directed back to her target. “You! All this time I’ve spent! All the time we ALL spent!”
“Fharr,” Toil said calmly, hair in her face as usual, looking ridiculous in plainclothes, “I need you to listen to me.”
“You don’t get to say anything to me!” Fhar began, stretching her arrow back. Tellan flailing at her, Duran trying to soothe her with words she was ignoring, Fharr told them both calmly to get back. They flinched. Because Toil was an insensitive boor, she looked amused. Amused! Not one word to the platoon in all that time, them thinking the worst. Fharr was a reasonable woman. So she glared down the arrowshaft, considered shooting her just to prove the point. All that time trying to control her temper, now this! She was totally unaffected by the stress of the baby, but being a good mother meant having an even hand. This was all Toil’s fault.
“Fharr, the child,” her sister pleaded in her soft, whiny voice. Turning to yell at her sister, “This child is still a part of me and it is FINE!” And Toil’s fingers closed on the arrow and wrenched it out of her hand. Fharr wheeled in her saddle and hissed, “How mature. Meeting me way out here in the middle of nowhere so you don’t have to own up in front of everbody. Don’t look at me that way, this is your mess and you’d better clean it up. Why don’t you start now with introductions?” She crossed her arms expectantly. Duran’s horse came up close to hers and he put his hand on her shoulder. She squeezed his fingers.
Toil flashed the gap-toothed smile that had got her into many a barmaid’s pants and began, “Me and your sister, we were in school together. I played a few jokes on her that she couldn’t possibly forget, eh Cherry?” Fharr glared incredulously and said nothing. So this was how she was going to play it. Low and dirty. “What a coincidence that we finally met each other here! Ha, ha.” If Fharr wasn’t so angry, she would have laughed at Toil’s pathetic turn as an actress.
“Oh sister, it is so good to see you,” Tellan said, recovering the total shock that must have rocked her at this admission. Her loving, naïve sister. How could she not know that her best friend (probably her only friend) was a berserker for the valkyrie infantry? It was so obvious. Look at the size of her! She wasn’t good for anything else! “But you’re so far along, the child was due…should have been due? How can you ride?”
“Let’s talk for a bit, friend,” Fharr said to Toil, ignoring her. Tellan looked back between them like she wanted to protest but fell back with Duran. Duran shot Toil a dirty look, which Fharr appreciated.
“You should be happy I didn’t have a heart attack a hundred feet back when I recognized you,” Fharr said as soon as they were out of earshot. “The hell is wrong with you? The council called you away and then you dropped off the face of the earth. There was no word, no nothing. Nobody, not even Belk, heard anything. We thought they’d taken you away to break your legs. Have you been here the whole time? Lying to my family?”
“No, I -“
“So you were doing what? Digging lavatories? Running laps? So much that you couldn’t let us know that you were still alive? By the Lady’s everloving eyes, Toil!”
Fharr was gearing up for a tongue-lashing and wouldn’t hear much of what she said, so Toil tried to explain.
“It’s complicated.”
Fharr snorted and rolled her eyes skyward. “Complicated. You wouldn’t know complicated if it hit you in the face.” Then she noticed something. “Where’s your sword? Your insignia?”
Toil was silent. These would be the things that Fharr noticed. She hadn’t thought about it since it happened, but she felt a flush crawling up her neck.
“Your hair,” Fharr said in shock. “Turn your head.” Fahrr craned her neck. “My Lady, they cut it off. What did you do this time?”
Toil was glad - very glad - that the Jury’s request for secrecy had been heeded. A weight disappeared off her shoulders. “You were there Fharr, you tell me.” She found herself eying Fharr’s odd appearance. How was she carrying around that much weight without folding herself in half?
“So they don’t know you’re valkyr,” Fharr said with satisfaction, tossing her head at her sister. “When are you going back? Oh wait, when are they going to let you go back?”
Fharr was going to find out about her expulsion from the clan when she got there. She wouldn’t know what it meant. Toil was trying hard not to think about it. She shook her head.
“General’s got me on a short leash.”
“I’ll bet she does,” Fharr said, her voice just skirting sexual innuendo. “So how’s dear Cheydren? I bet you guys are the best of friends. Am I right?” Fharr burst out laughing at Toil’s expression.
Toil was about to say something when Fharr grimaced. Hand to her stomach. “Ach, the child kicked me. Even from the womb, she’s got the scent of Paladin blood in the air.”
Toil looked sideways at her. “It looks like a cow’s udder.”
Fharr protested loudly and then cast a glance back over her shoulder. “We came up through some bad territory. You’ve seen the hawks, I bet. Couldn’t wait for the baby. Sent the midwife to the front. They’ll need her there.” Toil’s mind rolled this over slowly. Ground it up into shards. She’d known this would happen. The plains around them were grey and somber, not helping her mood. Bad omen, standing on scorched earth, talking about war.
She had to get in contact with the General. The thought alone sent a hot squirm of shame up her back. They wouldn’t let her back in. They wouldn’t. But she’d try. There was nothing else to do. There was nowhere else to go.
Toil turned as Tell jumped on her horse with an excited cry. In the distance, two figures broke up the relentless plain. Both on horseback, they were coming slow towards them. Tellan kneed her little horse into a gallop and was gone in a smear of tan cloak. Toil cursed, bellowed her name, dropped whatever she was doing and ran for her mount.
She was so afraid that something had happened. Her heart soared to see her sister’s colours draped over the dark brown of her warhorse. Mother would be beside herself. She was losing one daughter and gaining another. They’d go back and feast and everyone would pass the baby around, and Cap would come and she’d hold it so gently…
She yelled Fharr’s name over the horse’s hooves. Close enough now to see her long dark hair framing her narrow face, dark brows pulled together in a characteristic frown. The big brown warhorse stamped its feet. Tell looked past the long bow that had been a part of her sister’s arm since she joined the army, searching for a baby sling. Tellan pulled up her horse, gasped, “Sister! Where is the child?”
“I nearly put an arrow in you, stupid!” Fharr notched an arrow to her longbow. “Get behind me!” Tellan shook her head. “I’m sorry, sister, but you shouldn’t worry --” Headstrong Fharr probably wouldn’t get along with her quiet friend, but she would get her to tell Toil all about the army admissions test. It would help give her confidence. Fharr’s narrow shoulders were strapped with weapons, her Lady charm hanging outside her cloak. Heavy grey cloak flung back, she suddenly saw her sister’s stomach. Tellan’s genial face drained of colour. Before she could speak, Fharr’s warhorse shoved hers aside, as she blurted, “-it’s only Toil.”
“You’re in the way!” Fharr screamed, aiming at the familiar figure, hunched over the straining horse. Fharr’s bolt drew back. She was one of the Monolith’s finest archers. She wouldn’t miss. Tellan stared frozen on her horse, hands light on the reins, the same fear that gripped her the night of the raid squeezing the life out of her now. Her sister would not -could not-- shoot the arrow into Toil and knock her dead off her horse. She was not going to witness it. It wasn’t going to happen. Black eyes were ringed white. Her sister’s lady medallion suddenly gleamed in the fading light. Tellan’s mind snapped out of a white panic. “Wait!” Threw herself off her horse, missed, slid off the rump of Fharr’s mount. Fell on her hands and knees, grabbed her sister’s leg. “STOP!”
Other horse pulled up with a whinny, its occupant’s pale hair blown back. Fharr hissed a string of curses that would have made the General proud. Both horses circled, blowing air through their nostrils. Her sister grabbing at her leg like a rock lichen. She wouldn’t know a dangerous person even if they were putting a knife into her for the second time. Still, something bothered her, seomthing that made hjer not loose the arrow. Now the stranger was too damn close for a second shot if -
By the Lady’s tits.
“You’d look good with an arrow in your chest, you waterveined fatherfucking cowshit,” Fharr snapped, her eyes blazing down the shaft at her missing army-mate.
“Toil!” Tellan wailed. Pale, soft hands pulling at her like a child’s.
“Shut up, sister!” Fharr spat, “Oh you sly dog. This is her? This is the surrogate?” Blazing eye now directed back to her target. “You! All this time I’ve spent! All the time we ALL spent!”
“Fharr,” Toil said calmly, hair in her face as usual, looking ridiculous in plainclothes, “I need you to listen to me.”
“You don’t get to say anything to me!” Fhar began, stretching her arrow back. Tellan flailing at her, Duran trying to soothe her with words she was ignoring, Fharr told them both calmly to get back. They flinched. Because Toil was an insensitive boor, she looked amused. Amused! Not one word to the platoon in all that time, them thinking the worst. Fharr was a reasonable woman. So she glared down the arrowshaft, considered shooting her just to prove the point. All that time trying to control her temper, now this! She was totally unaffected by the stress of the baby, but being a good mother meant having an even hand. This was all Toil’s fault.
“Fharr, the child,” her sister pleaded in her soft, whiny voice. Turning to yell at her sister, “This child is still a part of me and it is FINE!” And Toil’s fingers closed on the arrow and wrenched it out of her hand. Fharr wheeled in her saddle and hissed, “How mature. Meeting me way out here in the middle of nowhere so you don’t have to own up in front of everbody. Don’t look at me that way, this is your mess and you’d better clean it up. Why don’t you start now with introductions?” She crossed her arms expectantly. Duran’s horse came up close to hers and he put his hand on her shoulder. She squeezed his fingers.
Toil flashed the gap-toothed smile that had got her into many a barmaid’s pants and began, “Me and your sister, we were in school together. I played a few jokes on her that she couldn’t possibly forget, eh Cherry?” Fharr glared incredulously and said nothing. So this was how she was going to play it. Low and dirty. “What a coincidence that we finally met each other here! Ha, ha.” If Fharr wasn’t so angry, she would have laughed at Toil’s pathetic turn as an actress.
“Oh sister, it is so good to see you,” Tellan said, recovering the total shock that must have rocked her at this admission. Her loving, naïve sister. How could she not know that her best friend (probably her only friend) was a berserker for the valkyrie infantry? It was so obvious. Look at the size of her! She wasn’t good for anything else! “But you’re so far along, the child was due…should have been due? How can you ride?”
“Let’s talk for a bit, friend,” Fharr said to Toil, ignoring her. Tellan looked back between them like she wanted to protest but fell back with Duran. Duran shot Toil a dirty look, which Fharr appreciated.
“You should be happy I didn’t have a heart attack a hundred feet back when I recognized you,” Fharr said as soon as they were out of earshot. “The hell is wrong with you? The council called you away and then you dropped off the face of the earth. There was no word, no nothing. Nobody, not even Belk, heard anything. We thought they’d taken you away to break your legs. Have you been here the whole time? Lying to my family?”
“No, I -“
“So you were doing what? Digging lavatories? Running laps? So much that you couldn’t let us know that you were still alive? By the Lady’s everloving eyes, Toil!”
Fharr was gearing up for a tongue-lashing and wouldn’t hear much of what she said, so Toil tried to explain.
“It’s complicated.”
Fharr snorted and rolled her eyes skyward. “Complicated. You wouldn’t know complicated if it hit you in the face.” Then she noticed something. “Where’s your sword? Your insignia?”
Toil was silent. These would be the things that Fharr noticed. She hadn’t thought about it since it happened, but she felt a flush crawling up her neck.
“Your hair,” Fharr said in shock. “Turn your head.” Fahrr craned her neck. “My Lady, they cut it off. What did you do this time?”
Toil was glad - very glad - that the Jury’s request for secrecy had been heeded. A weight disappeared off her shoulders. “You were there Fharr, you tell me.” She found herself eying Fharr’s odd appearance. How was she carrying around that much weight without folding herself in half?
“So they don’t know you’re valkyr,” Fharr said with satisfaction, tossing her head at her sister. “When are you going back? Oh wait, when are they going to let you go back?”
Fharr was going to find out about her expulsion from the clan when she got there. She wouldn’t know what it meant. Toil was trying hard not to think about it. She shook her head.
“General’s got me on a short leash.”
“I’ll bet she does,” Fharr said, her voice just skirting sexual innuendo. “So how’s dear Cheydren? I bet you guys are the best of friends. Am I right?” Fharr burst out laughing at Toil’s expression.
Toil was about to say something when Fharr grimaced. Hand to her stomach. “Ach, the child kicked me. Even from the womb, she’s got the scent of Paladin blood in the air.”
Toil looked sideways at her. “It looks like a cow’s udder.”
Fharr protested loudly and then cast a glance back over her shoulder. “We came up through some bad territory. You’ve seen the hawks, I bet. Couldn’t wait for the baby. Sent the midwife to the front. They’ll need her there.” Toil’s mind rolled this over slowly. Ground it up into shards. She’d known this would happen. The plains around them were grey and somber, not helping her mood. Bad omen, standing on scorched earth, talking about war.
She had to get in contact with the General. The thought alone sent a hot squirm of shame up her back. They wouldn’t let her back in. They wouldn’t. But she’d try. There was nothing else to do. There was nowhere else to go.