Remember in LIES OF LOCKE LAMORA, when the Gentlemen Bastards were performing their toasting rituals before dinner...
Abstract:
Locke had managed to work a bit of wine-bottle legerdemain while speaking; the empty glasses were suddenly full. "To Bug! The new bane of the Camorr city watch!"
When the cheering and the guzzling from this toast had subsided and Bug had been smacked upon the back often enough to turn the contents of his brain sideways, Locke produced a single large glass, set it in the middle of the table, and filled it slowly.
"Just one more thing before we can eat." He held the glass up as the others fell silent. "A glass poured to air for an absent friend. We miss old Chains terribly and we wish his soul peace. May the Crooked Warden ever stand watch and bless his crooked servant. He was a good and petinent man, in the manner of out kind."
Gently, Locke set the glass in the middle of the table and covered it with a small black cloth. "He would have been very proud of you, Bug."
"I do hope so." The boy stared at the covered glass in the middle of the opulent glassware and gilded crockery. "I wish I could have met him."
"You would have been a restful project for his old age." Jean kissed the back of his own left hand, the benedictory gesture of the Nameless Thirteenth's Priesthood. "A very welcome respite from what he endured raising the four of us!"
"Jean's being generous. He and I were saints. It's the Sanza brothers that kept the poor old bastard up late praying six nights out of seven." Locke reached out toward one cloth covered platter. "Let's eat."
"Praying that you and Jean would grow up quick and handsome like the two of us, you mean!" Galdo's hand darted out and caught Locke's at the wrist. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"Am I?"
Calo, Galdo and Jean met this question with a coordinated stare. Bug looked sheepish and gazed up at the chandelier.
"Gods damn it." Locke slid out of his gilded chair and went to a side cupboard; when he returned to the table he had a tiny sampling-glass in his hand, a little more than a thimble for liquor. Into this he let slip the smallest dash of mint wine. He didn't hold this glass up, but pushed it into the centre of the table beside the glass under the black cloth.
"A glass poured in air for an absent someone. I don't know where she is at the moment and I hope you all choke, except Bug, thanks very fucking much."
"Hardly a graceful blessing, especially for a priest." Calo kissed the back of his own left hand and waved it over the tiny glass. "She was one of us even before you were, garrista."
"You know what I do pray?" Locke set his hands on the edge of the table; his knuckles rapidly turned white. "That maybe someday one of you finds out what love is when it travels farther up than the buttons of your trousers."
"It takes two to break a heart." Galdo gently placed his left hand over Locke's right. "I don't recall her fucking things up without your able assistance."
"And I daresay," said Calo, "That it would be a tremendous relief to us all if you would just have the courtesy to go out and get yourself wenched. Long and Hard. Gods, do three at once! It's not as though we don't have the funds."
"I'll have you know my patience for this topic was exhausted long before-" Locke's voice was rising to a shout when Jean grabbed him firmly by his left bicep; Jean fist wrapped easily all the way around Locke's arm.
"She was our good friend, Locke. Was and still is. You owe her something a bit more godly than that."
Jean reached out for the wine bottle, then filled the little glass to its brim. He raised it into the light and took his other hand off Locke's arm. "A glass poured to air for an absent friend. We wish Sabetha well. For ourselves, we pray brotherhood."
Locke stared at him for a second that seemed like minutes, then let out a long sigh. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the occasion. That was a poor toast and I... repent it. I should have thought better of my responsibilities."
"I'm sorry too," Galdo grinned sheepishly. "We don't blame you for the way you feel. We know she was... she was... her."
Poor Locke. grrr I WANT MY REPUBLIC OF THIEVES! hahahah eh.. anyway this fic is from 'sheepish-looking' Bug's POV. why is he sheepish? read on and find out! =D
Bug Eyed
He figured he was seven-and-a-half when he went up the temple steps for the first time, trotting behind the Thiefmaker. Fresh from the Cauldron. He thought he knew all the dirty streets, dirty work and dirty deeds growing up in the filthiest quarter of Camorr. He understood the difference between thieving and robbing. As a child, he watched people get their throats slit around a dark corner. He understood that eating one's fill was a luxury. A luxury he only experienced when he became one of them.
"You're a Gentlemen Bastard now." grinned Master Locke Lamora. "So take a bath!"
"A long one." added Master Calo Sanza, or was it Galdo Sanza? He couldn't tell his twin Masters apart.
"Yes, Masters." he replied meekly.
The twins shuddered in chorus.
Master Lamora rubbed his shaven chin. "Bloody Thiefmaker hasn't changed his training, eh?"
"Only Lily Ladies call us 'Masters', Bug." The other twin said and received a jab from Locke's elbow.
"We're not that old." he said. "It's Locke. Calo or Galdo or morons if you wish. The fat one is Jean Tannen –" He glanced away from Bug to pass a good-natured smile at the fat one who raised his head from his book. "– and Sabetha is not around at the moment, but you'll get to meet her at dinner. After your bath."
"Okay, Mast – Locke." Bug corrected himself. In the few days that he was under the Thiefmaker, his throat and nose had made the acquaintance of ginger oil when he refused to mind his 'sirs' and 'madams' and 'masters'. He thought this place was no different from every other gang that took orphaned kids in. He heard about canings, no food, locked doors and all sorts of punishments for disobedience, so he was naturally eager to make a good first impression.
Locke seemed to produce a round oval object the size of his palm from thin air and put it in Bug's much smaller hand. It was smooth to touch, light-weighted and smelled lovely.
"He's called soap." Locke let amusement bare clearly on his face as he put a hand on Bug's shoulder and guided him out of the dining room. "Now, let me introduce you to your other new friends Water Cabinet, Fresh Towel and Clean Breeches. Down this corridor..."
Bug was never more gleeful than to soak his greasy little head in water as warm as blood, instead of some cold, leftover piss mixture. He would have stayed for two more hours given the chance, but 'fat one' Jean came knocking on the door, calling him for dinner. That simple gesture made Bug freeze. They're – They're calling me to come for dinner. A warm feeling bubbled deep inside the lost boy and smiled for reasons he didn't understand. It felt so beautiful, lovely even. Lovelier than soap. That smile erupted into a fit of giggles.
"What's so funny in there?" asked Jean, sounding worried for Bug's mental health.
"Nothing!" he replied, muffling his laughter into the huge thick blanket they called a towel. He threw on the pearl white clothes and dried his hair then met a pair of new sandals when he opened the water cabinet door. He strapped them on and wandered in the vague direction he came from, the damp towel bundled in his arms.
A soft murmuring came from the door ahead. The voice sounded like Locke's. But the young boy almost didn't recognise it for the tone it had.
Eh, food changes a man. Bug pushed the door open, paused for what felt like an eternity then closed the door very, very, very quietly. He inched backwards away from the door and turned to flee the scene only to smash his nose into the Sanzas, who regarded him deviously.
"And what did you see?" asked Galdo/Calo.
Bug pressed his lips together as a hot flush crept up his cheeks. Telling them "Master Lamora was sprawled naked on a bed and there was a naked woman with long wavy red hair lying on top of him. They were rolling about, kissing and running their hands all over each other. I think they were fucking." was not an option he wanted to choose. So the sixth thing he said in the Temple of Pelendro basement was an outright lie. "Nothing, Galdo."
"It's Calo."
"Is not! I'm Calo."
"Why can't we both be Calo?"
"Because our mother specifically called me Calo the Genius and Ladies' Man and you, Galdo the second twin."
"Well then, Galdo, you take the lost new initiate to the dining hall while I, Calo shall get Locke and, ah, Sabetha."
Bug is left BUG-EYED! get it? urghh bad joke bad joke shoot me with a crossbow somebody! hahaha
yeah do me a beautiful favour, dear reader!! press that link inch away from this sentence... right there yeap! its got that yellow speech bubble in it!! =D BIG THANKS!
hmmm question for the day, who's Calo and who's Galdo?