This little oneshot was orignally for my English class, and I really liked it. So I thought you guys might like it too. It takes place in between the last chapter of Inkheart and the first chapter of its sequel, Inkspell. All books of the Inkworld trilogy belong to its author, Cornelia Funke, and the characters in this little story are copyrighted by her and the book's publishers.
It was the middle of night. Usually Farid would have tried to return to sleep because of his fear of ghosts, which came out at night. He wasn't so afraid when Dustfinger was around, particularly tonight, as there was no wind. No wind meant that fire was easier to tame. But he didn't make any fire now, not while Dustfinger was asleep. Instead, to make this circumstance highly unusual, he sat leaning against a thick tree, stroking Gwin absentmindedly.
The only thing that kept him awake right now was his thoughts. Not a day went by without Farid sparing a thought - sometimes a single thought, sometimes a dozen – to Silvertongues' daughter Meggie. He tried to imagine now what she looked like. She had probably grown in some places (he blushed at this), like him. He remembered showing Dustfinger the first fine whiskers growing on his chin the previous morning. He never felt prouder (being anxious that he would never grow up after coming from his world to this one).
The horned marten stretched in his arms, jumping up to his shoulder. Farid ignored him, trying to focus on his imaginary Meggie, her golden hair grown now halfway down her back. She would be taller, just like her father. Hopefully not taller than him, but she probably had grown. Gwin moved again, crawling to his other shoulder.
"Gwin, stop fussing." he muttered. The marten made small snuffling noises.
"Shoosh Gwin!" he whispered again, a little louder this time, though he was cautious not to wake the sleeping Dustfinger.
Gwin stopped, settling on Farids' left shoulder. Irritated, Farid now realised that like anyone that talks during a train of thought, he lost his. The image of Meggie that he had in his head mere minutes ago had now blurred, her face turning a nondescript shade of grey. Farid reached for the creature on his shoulder, thrusting him (though gently) towards the ground. Farid himself stood up and stretched. It was getting light now. Yawning, he realised just how long he had actually been sitting there for. It looked like around five hours.
Deciding to try and sleep for at least another hour before Dustfinger woke; he curled up a pace away from Dustfinger's sleeping form, falling asleep within seconds. It was only two hours later when Dustfinger woke him up, though, when the sun was up.
"Goodness Farid, I was wondering wether you had died in the night." Dustfinger remarked. Farid felt his cheeks turn warm at Dustfingers' look, as if Dustfinger knew that Farids' dream was of Meggie, who he had kissed rather passionately. Although he was embarrassed, the dream was enough to make him feel happy all day.