Little Lore.

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Yva
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Little Lore.

Postby Yva » Thu Sep 30, 2010 3:05 pm

((Me and Lore did something of an art exchange. Enjoy!))

*****

Caleb Nightwater dropped the body in the Moonwell. It was probably sacrilege, and sooner or later he might feel bad about it, but he needed the woman found. No, actually, Lyas needed the woman found; there was no point to knocking the bitch off if her sons wouldn’t find her dead. The Windwalk brothers had been a thorn in Lyas’s side for far too long now.

And what was the best way to get them back into line? Kill their mother, of course. It wasn’t like Violet Windwalk was a nice old bag. She’d taught her boys everything they knew about the shadier sides of kaldorei society. Thanks to her, they’d become to lying, scheming pieces of shit that needed to be reminded who owned them.

Caleb eyed his saber with a grunt. He stuffed a thick-rolled cigar into his mouth and puffed on it, his eyes going to slits as the smoke spiralled towards his nose. He was an old man now, his face weathered and lined like a piece of well-worn leather. His hair was such a dark blue it looked black, a trait he inherited from his father, and one that earned them their surname. He wore it in a ponytail that coiled around his waist. Two daggers, meticulously polished and kept in hand crafted sheathes, were familiar weights at his hips.

“A’right. Time to get back.”

The saber snorted and tossed its head back as if to say ‘about time’. Caleb climbed into the saddle, his heels digging into the cat’s sides as they made haste for the city. He had to report in to Lyas before he could get a decent night’s sleep. It’d take him about an hour to get back, and he figured if he paced it right, he’d he’d be snuggled up at the Bluewing Inn with Namia by lunchtime. There was something to be said for the comfort of a chubby whore who smelled like lily flowers.

Clouds brewed overhead, threatening to slow his progress. He snarled at them, and he liked to think it was sheer intimidation factor that kept them from pissing rain on his head. It didn’t start its pitter-patter until he loped up to Lyas’s place. He stabled the cat and strode inside, a half grin plastered across his grizzled face.

“Job’s done,” he said in greeting.

Lyas was seated at the main table, a stack of papers in front of him. He never looked up from his task, just licked his thumb and leafed through the pages. He read a hand-written note once, and then twice, and tore it up with a snort.

Caleb shifted his weight, waiting for his boss to acknowledge him. A minute passed and then two, until finally he raked his fingers through the hair at his temples and grunted again. “Violet’s floating.”

“I heard you.”

And then there was silence. Caleb supposed he could just walk out and call it a day, but this was odd even by Lyas’s standards. He watched him read for a while, and finally just threw himself down into the chair across from him. It wasn’t until he’d taken a seat that Lyas put the papers aside and folded his hands together, a benign smile on his mouth.

“All’s well?”

“Well as can be,” Caleb said. “Did what you told me to.”

“And now I have a new job for you.”

“Need rest.”

“Of course you do. I’m not an idiot. This is more of a long term project, anyway. Come back to it tomorrow.”

“What is it?”

Lyas tilted his head as he peered at him, his gaze even. Caleb looked back, his mood pre-emptively souring. Whenever his boss looked at him like that, something was about to be an enormous pain in his ass. He’d known the man long enough to recognize the signs of a shitty job before it was even assigned.

“Upstairs room, second on the left. It’s your problem. You’ll be paid.”

“. . . all right. I mean if it’s here now, I can just take care of it before my nap. Ain’t that hard to kill folks.”

“You won’t be killing anything. Guarding.”

“Ah. Gotchya.” And that was it. Lyas dismissed him, picking up his papers and shuffling them around. He snatched a pen and began signing things, his head bent forward, eyes fixed on his work.

Caleb took that as his invitation to leave and turned towards the door. He was about to go to the Bluebird, to order up some stew before buying himself some soft company, but curiosity niggled at the back of his brain. Lyas never ‘guarded’ anyone. He specialized in quick, efficient business done at the sharp end of a blade. If someone needed protecting, and Lyas had an interest in them . . . well, it was worth noting.

Just go look. One peek won’t hurt. You’re not so tired, Old Man.

By the time Caleb’s foot hit the stairs, he had himself convinced it was a woman. Lyas had them here and there, and he treated them all right for however long they interested him, which usually wasn’t more than a few months. If this one needed a guard she was probably someone important, or belonged to someone important and Lyas was ‘borrowing her’. If that was the case she was probably an uppity bitch and would make him miserable.

“Elune’s tits,” he cursed, going to the second room on the left and pushing the door wide.

His first mistake was looking up, at his own eye level, because there was no one to look at. No one at the window, or by the bed, or even at the desk in the corner. When he finally noticed her sitting in the middle of the floor, he had no idea what he was supposed to say, or even do. It was a woman all right, just . . . a little one. Maybe three or four years old at the most. She had dark teal hair that curled around her shoulders, and violet colored skin.

At the moment, she was playing with the laces on an old shoe, seemingly delighted with her makeshift toy.

“What the fuck?”

The girl blinked up at him with huge silver eyes, her ears waggling on her head. “That’s a no-no word.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“. . . that’s a no-no word, too.” Her cheeks darkened with a blush as she picked the shoe up and started weaving the laces through the holes. Caleb stared at her for while, trying to process what he was seeing before he turned back towards the stairs.

Unsurprisingly, Lyas didn’t lift his head when Caleb leaned over his table, his palms flattening against the wood.

“That’s a kid up there.”

“I hadn’t noticed.”

“You want me babysit a kid?”

“I do.”

Caleb groaned, his eyes pinching closed. A pounding tension began to throb in his temples, threatening to split his head wide open. “I don’t know nothing about kids!”

“She’s trained to use the toilet and she can feed herself with a spoon.” Lyas glanced up, his expression so bland it could have been painted on his face. “That’s better than most drunks we know.”

“Yeah, but drunks don’t stay all little and squirmy. Kids have got small hands. It’s creepy as fuck. And did you see her ears? They’re too big for her fuckin’ head. I think there’s something wrong with her.”

“No, there’s not.” When Caleb looked like he was about to revolt, Lyas flitted his hand at the door. “Go home. You’re tired. Oh, and here’s some coin. I think she needs a new dress. And maybe a toy. Children like toys or some such.” A small pouch of money made its way across the table. Caleb glared at it, and then his boss.

“ . . . a dress. You want me to go dress shopping for a kid?”

“She’s your problem now, Caleb.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me!”

That’s a no-no word.

He grit his teeth as her tiny voice echoed inside of his head. He snatched the coin bag off of the table and strode outside. It was pouring out, the rain was gushing down all around him like someone had torn the clouds asunder. As he stormed his way to the Bluebird, he wondered how the hell he got into this situation in the first place.

*****

Namia rolled on top of him, her chin perched on the coiled scar on his chest.

“It’s just a baby girl, you know. They’re not poisonous.”

His fingers streaked through her hair, twining in the curls and then tugging them out until they were straight. He watched the purple strands bounce back to her head. She wore it close cropped, and it seemed to suit her, despite a rounder a face. “Know it, but I know nothing about kids. And less ‘bout dress shopping for them.”

Namia sat up, pulling the blanket up until she wore it like a queen’s mantle over her shoulders. “I’ll help you out. There’s a tailor ‘round the corner I’m friendly with.”

“I got to pay you coin for the help?”

She made a rude gesture at him as she climbed out of bed, pulling her drawers and dress on. Caleb took that as a sign he ought to follow suit, and he danced around on one leg as he pulled his pants up. “Think Lyas is pissed at me. Why else would he saddle me with some kid?”

“Kids are easy. My sister’s had two of ‘em.”

Namia slipped into a pair of sandals, giving herself a once over in the mirror and patting her hair into place.. “And just so we’re clear, I don’t do this for most of my customers. I just got a soft spot for scarred up old men.”

“Ain’t I a lucky boy.”

He stuffed another cigar in his mouth and buttoned up his shirt before following her out of the room. The rain had died down completely, and the only thing they had to contend with on their walk was a muddied road. They stepped on the stones as to not sink into the soft earth.

When they walked into the store, the bell above the door heralded their arrival with a cheery series of dings. A pleasant looking man behind the counter smiled at Caleb, and then a little wider at Namia, waggling his fingers as he disappeared behind a curtain. Caleb gave his retreating back a disapproving stare.

“So when you say friend, you mean a john?”

“What if he is?” She asked, walking up to a the section of the shop reserved for children’s clothing. Most of the dresses were ruffled, made of pastel dyed fabrics and lace. “I don’t see you making an honest woman out of me.”

He frowned at her and took position on the opposite side of the rack. He grabbed a bright yellow dress with red butterflies sewn all over it. “What about this?”

Namia looked at it, then at him. “That’s for a girl at least eight. You need . . . here.” She pulled out a pink dress with no sleeves and white buttons approximately half the size of his own selection. “You know if she needs shoes?”

“Didn’t see her feet,” he grumbled. “Was too fixed on the kid’s ears. They’re huge, you know. Makes her look like she’s gonna take off in a big gust of wind.”

Namia chose a pair of pale leather booties and handed them off. “You’d be so lucky.”

Caleb stared at the pile of girlishness clasped in his calloused hands. Everything was wrong with this scenario, from the fact that he was buying this shit from a guy poking his girl, to what he actually intended to purchase and why he had the purchase it. The only thing preventing him from spitting his disdain was the unlit cigar still clenched between his teeth.

He turned back towards the counter, about to bellow for the clerk to come back, when his eyes fell on a doll clearly made from fabric scraps. It had yarn hair and button eyes. He snatched it and added it to his little pile. Namia spotted it and grinned, kissing his shoulder as she patted the doll’s head.

“Awww. Cute! See? You’ll do fine.”

“Shut up. He told me to get her a toy.”

“Tsk. Such a cranky old man.”

“You bet.”

*****

The problem, of course, was getting the little brat into the dress.

He brought his bag of crap into the room. His ward was curled up with a pillow in the corner, her thumb in her mouth. He thought about sneaking back downstairs and smoking his cigar in peace while she slept. Lyas was gone for who knew how long, and he had the place to himself.

As soon as he turned around, though, he heard her make a small whimpering noise that stopped him in his tracks.

“I’m hungry,” she said on a yawn, forcing herself upright. Her dress looked dirty and wrinkled, probably from playing with the nasty looking old shoe all day. Or maybe it had something to do with sleeping on the floor. Either way, it bothered him a little, and he couldn’t say why.

“Oh. Right. Hey uhh, Kid, we can go get food no problem, but I got you some shit.”

“No-no word,” she said, toddling towards him. “You say lots of those.”

“Yeah, I’m great like that.”

“I’m Loreli.” She stood at his knees and grinned up at him.

He nodded and pulled out the doll. She immediately made grabby hands for it. She bounced on her chubby little legs, delight clearly written all over her face. As soon as he gave it to her she began talking to it and playing with its hair. She turned it over and looked under its dress, then flipped it back to poke at its button eyes.

“Hey, I got more sh . . . stuff, too. C’mere?” He crouched beside her and pulled the shoes and dress out. She eyed them, and then him, hugging her doll to her chest and stepping away, her mouth dipping into a frown.

“Nuh uh.”’

“What do you mean ‘Nuh uh’. You’re wearing rags. Gotta put this on.”

“No.”

“‘No?’” He stared at her incredulously, and she tossed her head back and forth, that thumb wedging itself straight back into her pie hole. “What do you mean ‘no’. You don’t wanna wear stink clothes do you?”

“No!”

“A’right, so get dressed.”

She sat down, mutinously glaring at him now. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do, but if Lyas came back and saw the kid in shitty clothes, he’d ask him why he hadn’t bought her a dress like he’d said to. He wasn’t getting bitched at because he lost a pissing contest with a toddler.

“You’re wearing the dress, Kid.”

“No!”

He stalked across the room toward her, his big hands wedging under her arms to lift her up. They had a nose to nose staring contest for a good minute before he dumped her right down on the bed and pulled the dress off of her. She let him do that without too much of a fuss, even daring a smile at her naked-baby status, but the moment he reached for the pink dress to put it on her, she screeched and scrambled away.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” He looked from the dress to the kid wielding her new doll like a weapon.

“No!”

“S’all you’ve said for the last five minutes!”

She frowned at the dress, then at him. He couldn’t really picture himself force-dressing her; pulling the old one off had been awkward enough. He didn’t want to be accused of being some pervo-kid toucher. So what the hell was he supposed to do now?

I am not equipped for this.

Part of him just wanted to leave her here with the doll. He could go get food, bring it back, and worry about the dress later, but the other part of him thought that’d probably be a bad plan. As it stood she’d been alone for a while, who knew how long, and kids got into trouble when they were alone, didn’t they? Something about playing with fire and drinking under-cabinet cleaners.

He raked his hand through his hair and sighed.

“All right, look. Make you a deal. You like ice cream?”

She gasped and nodded at him. “Uh huh. Kee keam.”

“What?”

“Kee keam!”

He had no idea what ‘kee keam’ was, but it sounded vaguely like ice cream, and he grunted. “All right. If you put this dress on, we’ll go get some lunch and after some ice cream. But you gotta wear the dress first.” She looked unconvinced, eyeing him to see if he was trying to pull a fast one. She whispered to her doll like it had become her consultant. After a moment she nodded and walked forward, putting her arms over her head. He figured this was invitation enough to shove the dress over her head, and he wasted little time getting her into the thing. Her hair was tucked into the back, and he motioned at it with his finger.

“You wanna pull that out.”

“Can’t. Kee keam. You said, Great.”

“Great?”

She nodded and pointed at him. “Great.” Then pointed at herself. “I’m Loreli.” It took him a moment to figure it out, but for some reason the kid thought his name was Great. He felt a smile spread across his mouth despite his annoyance.

“Cale, Kid. I’m Caleb. Call me Cale.”

“Okay. You said Kee Keam. You said.”

“I know what I fucking said!” He reached behind her little neck and pulled her hair out of the back of the dress so it wasn’t uncomfortable. A big chunk of it fell over one of her eyes, and he swept that away as well.

“That’s a no-no word.”

“ . . . yeah, you mentioned that before. C’mon.” She started to walk after him, doll clutched to her chest. When they reached the top of the steps, though, she looked down them and frowned.

“No.”

“‘No’ what? Do you know any other words?” She pointed at the steps and he growled. “They’re just stairs.”

“Fall down.”

“You’re scared of falling down?”

She nodded at him, and once again started sucking on her thumb. He sighed and picked her up, tucking her underneath his arm like he was carrying a sack of flour, and headed down the steps two at a time. For whatever reason she thought this was great, giggling all the while, and when he tried to put her down she squirmed, shouting ‘No’ again.

“All right, all right! Fuck’s sake, you’re a bossy bit of goods.”

“Thank you, Cable.”

“Caleb.”

“Uh huh.”

He made his way outside, trying desperately to stay annoyed, but seemingly unable to as the kid under his arm wriggled and laughed the entire way to the market.
So if you meet me have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste. Use all your well-learned politesse or I'll lay your soul to waste.

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