[Wild Roses] Trickwood Unification
Title: *snap*
'Verse/characters: Trickwood Unification; Arianhrod, a trader, Ruadhan
Prompt: 80D "words"
Word Count: 630
Notes: Back by popular demand (I suspect I'd get bitten by a few of you if I didn't, sheesh!). This is the third, following box trap and promises and plans.
"Arianhrod," someone said, unfamiliar voice stumbling over the syllables of her name, and she tried to ignore it. It felt like her name was on everyone's lips these days, the ripples of her arrival in the wood spreading with every storyteller-trader's oars.
"Arianhrod," the voice said again, and she gritted her teeth, set down the cup of--green, again, she was going to punch Ulysse next time she saw him--tea, wrapped her braid around her neck another time, gripped the tie on it hard.
"Arianhrod," again, and she snapped, stood up, moved.
Her feet hit a wooden deck with a smack of sound, just as the second syllable of a fourth repetition began.
"WHAT?" she replied, and the trader fell to his knees with a bang.
"Oh, stand up," she said irritably, waving her hand at him. "You swore no oaths to me."
" . . I'm not sure I can," the trader replied, and she found herself laughing for a moment at the absurdity.
"Alright then, stay there. Why did you call me?"
"The Baroness of the Two Rivers has reneged on her promises," he told her formally, and ice crawled delicately up her spine.
"Pray speak of her betrayals," she said, as formally.
"She claimed a quarter of my cargo, when I sailed through her harbour, and when I told her I was promised that nothing more than a tenth would be claimed as price for passage, she returned the cheaper parts only. She and hers walk armed, and I heard her speak of killing wolves, if they were seen near her territory."
She stared at him for a long time, long enough that he began to wither, turning in on himself, while she thought furiously. Ruadhan had said the woman was a shortsighted fool, a magpie in mind and in deed. But this. This was a declaration of war, and nothing less than it.
Arianhrod bared her teeth, and the trader cowered, so much so that she blinked, jarred out of her fury. "--sorry," she said after a moment. "My anger is at her, not you."
"We will open the locks, again," she continued. He made a face, and she shrugged. "I don't want any traders near her when we come to reply to her challenge."
He blinked once, then nodded. "I'll pass the word to the others I see to find other routes than hers."
"Thank you," she said, sincerely, and he managed to rise from his knees to his feet, revealed himself a good foot taller than she was and absolutely aware that it didn't mean a thing if it came to a physical contest. She appreciated that in a man, even if he did call her name like he'd been taught it as a singing sca--
"Ruadhan," she said aloud, and the trader's eyes widened again at her expression, "You owe me something more than pomegranates."
"Sorry," he replied in her ear, and just for her, warm dark whisper like he was lying in wait for something but wouldn't force her to come and step on his ribs for an answer, "you are by far the easiest for that. The baroness slipped, then?"
"Cowpat and cracked head," she said, angry all over again. "I'll pass along the word, but I have got to start painting keys."
"Winter, sister mine. The wood grows quiet in winter."
"I'll believe that when I see it," she replied, then let him go, turned back to the trader. "Good fortune in your voyage," she said, "and may I suggest you find a place to stay, for a while, before returning?"
"Lady," the trader said in the same half-amused tone he'd used to say that he couldn't rise from a kneel, "you couldn't pay me in steel-hulled ships to get within cannon range of the baroness right now."
She smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."
'Verse/characters: Trickwood Unification; Arianhrod, a trader, Ruadhan
Prompt: 80D "words"
Word Count: 630
Notes: Back by popular demand (I suspect I'd get bitten by a few of you if I didn't, sheesh!). This is the third, following box trap and promises and plans.
"Arianhrod," someone said, unfamiliar voice stumbling over the syllables of her name, and she tried to ignore it. It felt like her name was on everyone's lips these days, the ripples of her arrival in the wood spreading with every storyteller-trader's oars.
"Arianhrod," the voice said again, and she gritted her teeth, set down the cup of--green, again, she was going to punch Ulysse next time she saw him--tea, wrapped her braid around her neck another time, gripped the tie on it hard.
"Arianhrod," again, and she snapped, stood up, moved.
Her feet hit a wooden deck with a smack of sound, just as the second syllable of a fourth repetition began.
"WHAT?" she replied, and the trader fell to his knees with a bang.
"Oh, stand up," she said irritably, waving her hand at him. "You swore no oaths to me."
" . . I'm not sure I can," the trader replied, and she found herself laughing for a moment at the absurdity.
"Alright then, stay there. Why did you call me?"
"The Baroness of the Two Rivers has reneged on her promises," he told her formally, and ice crawled delicately up her spine.
"Pray speak of her betrayals," she said, as formally.
"She claimed a quarter of my cargo, when I sailed through her harbour, and when I told her I was promised that nothing more than a tenth would be claimed as price for passage, she returned the cheaper parts only. She and hers walk armed, and I heard her speak of killing wolves, if they were seen near her territory."
She stared at him for a long time, long enough that he began to wither, turning in on himself, while she thought furiously. Ruadhan had said the woman was a shortsighted fool, a magpie in mind and in deed. But this. This was a declaration of war, and nothing less than it.
Arianhrod bared her teeth, and the trader cowered, so much so that she blinked, jarred out of her fury. "--sorry," she said after a moment. "My anger is at her, not you."
"We will open the locks, again," she continued. He made a face, and she shrugged. "I don't want any traders near her when we come to reply to her challenge."
He blinked once, then nodded. "I'll pass the word to the others I see to find other routes than hers."
"Thank you," she said, sincerely, and he managed to rise from his knees to his feet, revealed himself a good foot taller than she was and absolutely aware that it didn't mean a thing if it came to a physical contest. She appreciated that in a man, even if he did call her name like he'd been taught it as a singing sca--
"Ruadhan," she said aloud, and the trader's eyes widened again at her expression, "You owe me something more than pomegranates."
"Sorry," he replied in her ear, and just for her, warm dark whisper like he was lying in wait for something but wouldn't force her to come and step on his ribs for an answer, "you are by far the easiest for that. The baroness slipped, then?"
"Cowpat and cracked head," she said, angry all over again. "I'll pass along the word, but I have got to start painting keys."
"Winter, sister mine. The wood grows quiet in winter."
"I'll believe that when I see it," she replied, then let him go, turned back to the trader. "Good fortune in your voyage," she said, "and may I suggest you find a place to stay, for a while, before returning?"
"Lady," the trader said in the same half-amused tone he'd used to say that he couldn't rise from a kneel, "you couldn't pay me in steel-hulled ships to get within cannon range of the baroness right now."
She smiled. "I'm glad to hear it."