Sorry I cut the last chapter off, but it was getting really long and I figured you adoring readers would start rioting for the next part. I'm working on a sequel to the D+N story, and it's getting looooong. I'm also thinking of strating (yet) another fic, about a Copper Islander. Here is the next chapter!
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Jamon and I didn't bother moving to another room, we just sat down at the table, and ate some of the food there. "Will ye tell me yer story, or do I have t' break th' ice?"
I didn't reply, just stuffed some cheese in my mouth. He sighed, 'I guess it's up t' me, then."
"My name is actually Jamalin Stonecutter. My father, who you've met was an accomplished mage, but I didn't have no magic, not a tiny drop."
"He was dissapointed," I cut in.
"Yerh. He thought I should have magic, too. I guess my mother, whoever she was, didn't have magic either."
"Your mother died?" I asked.
"No. I never knew her. She...... well, I'm a bastard. My mother was someone my father met one night. She came back, nine months after, and gave him me. My father never spent any time with me. I was always a 'cousin', or 'nephew'.
He was a part o' th' Court o' th' Rogue, at one time. But he was out of control. He got himself kicked out when he blewed up a house, and killed theives. He came back that night, I was thirteen, and he was furious. At me. H'was superstitious, and blamed all his bad luck on me. He knocked me 'round, then cut me with a knife. I guess t'was an accident, 'n' he was tryin' to scare me," he rolled up his sleeve to show a scar on his arm. It would only show when he wore sleeveless shirts, "I runs away that night 'n' joined th' Court o' th' Rogue. I became King at sixteen, 'n' I been here ever since."
We were both quiet for a minute, him remembering, and me trying to think of a father doing such a thing. "Why's ye here?" He asked.
"Well... I'm a noble. Melery of Darayn. My mother, she died 'bout five years back. My father, he changed. Cold, distant, he didn't even realise that he had a daughter, it was like he was delirious. I think he was dreaming of way before. I left home, what, a week ago? a few days before my marriage."
"Why didn't ye marry?" Jamon enquired.
"It was an arranged marriage. Arranged by my father, planned by my father, the only thing my father wasn't going to do was walk down the aisle" I said flatly.
"I decided to leave, to avoid a life of be trapped. Tarania, the village healer, she cut my hair," I put a hand to my waist, "it used to be down to here. 'N' she dyed it, black like it is now. She gave me these lenses and the spells to make them change colour."
"What colour are your eyes and hair?"
"Naturally? My eyes are dark green. My hair is... was pale green."
"By the Gods," he whispered, making the Gods' Circle on his chest.
"What?"
"It's a myth, a story growned- ups tell bad kiddies, but..."
"But what?"
"They say that a girl with green hair and eyes will be sent in times of peril. She will uproot the earth, and when the battle is over, the victor will never fight wars again in their liftime, and their sons' lifetimes, and their sons' sons' lifetimes, for the cost of the war will be so great."
I laughed, "I doubt that'd happen. Why would I get caught in a war? I hate fighting. And I wouldn't be strong enough to 'uproot the earth'."
Jamon laughed, too, but I saw the doubt in his eyes.
Thud. Thud. THUD! With a huge noise, one of the cupboards in the room opened, and out fell Granmother, tied up and gagged. Jamon and I huried over to help her. He sat her down on a seat, and I untied her gag and binding. "I swear, on the Goddes, Mithros and Trickster, that when I hunt down that good for nothin' father of yours, I'm gonna kill 'im. But first, I'll torture him. I'll hang 'im by 'is thumbs and force 'im to drink my cough syrup. Then when 'e's beggin' for mercy I'll-"
"Granmother, that's enough," Jamon said quietly.
"No, it's not enough," she said, still raging, "he tied me up and stole my dignity. Then they throw me in that stuffy hole, while delicious food smells waft in."
I put a hand on her arm. "It's okay, he's gone," hopefully for good I added mentally.
"Stop wasting yer breath on that sewer rat, 'n' get me some food. I'm starvin'!"
* * * * * * * * * *
The next day I woke up in my room in Granmother's house. After we had all eaten, Jamon and I helped Granmother home. She had complained all the way about how stupid some people could be, and why would someone tie up an old lady? She had muttered to herself all the way up to bed, and after the lights were out, I could still hear her muttering.
Looking through the closet, where I had put my new clothes, and donned this beautiful, royal blue nightgown. Then I went into the hall and went down the stairs. Sitting there was a strange girl. I didn't get more then a glimpse of her before she threw a blue ball of magic at me. The last thing I remembered was her face grinning evilly at me as I sunk into unconcsiousness. "Night- night, my pretty, no one steals Jamon from me, no- one!!"
______________________________________________________________________
Jamon and I didn't bother moving to another room, we just sat down at the table, and ate some of the food there. "Will ye tell me yer story, or do I have t' break th' ice?"
I didn't reply, just stuffed some cheese in my mouth. He sighed, 'I guess it's up t' me, then."
"My name is actually Jamalin Stonecutter. My father, who you've met was an accomplished mage, but I didn't have no magic, not a tiny drop."
"He was dissapointed," I cut in.
"Yerh. He thought I should have magic, too. I guess my mother, whoever she was, didn't have magic either."
"Your mother died?" I asked.
"No. I never knew her. She...... well, I'm a bastard. My mother was someone my father met one night. She came back, nine months after, and gave him me. My father never spent any time with me. I was always a 'cousin', or 'nephew'.
He was a part o' th' Court o' th' Rogue, at one time. But he was out of control. He got himself kicked out when he blewed up a house, and killed theives. He came back that night, I was thirteen, and he was furious. At me. H'was superstitious, and blamed all his bad luck on me. He knocked me 'round, then cut me with a knife. I guess t'was an accident, 'n' he was tryin' to scare me," he rolled up his sleeve to show a scar on his arm. It would only show when he wore sleeveless shirts, "I runs away that night 'n' joined th' Court o' th' Rogue. I became King at sixteen, 'n' I been here ever since."
We were both quiet for a minute, him remembering, and me trying to think of a father doing such a thing. "Why's ye here?" He asked.
"Well... I'm a noble. Melery of Darayn. My mother, she died 'bout five years back. My father, he changed. Cold, distant, he didn't even realise that he had a daughter, it was like he was delirious. I think he was dreaming of way before. I left home, what, a week ago? a few days before my marriage."
"Why didn't ye marry?" Jamon enquired.
"It was an arranged marriage. Arranged by my father, planned by my father, the only thing my father wasn't going to do was walk down the aisle" I said flatly.
"I decided to leave, to avoid a life of be trapped. Tarania, the village healer, she cut my hair," I put a hand to my waist, "it used to be down to here. 'N' she dyed it, black like it is now. She gave me these lenses and the spells to make them change colour."
"What colour are your eyes and hair?"
"Naturally? My eyes are dark green. My hair is... was pale green."
"By the Gods," he whispered, making the Gods' Circle on his chest.
"What?"
"It's a myth, a story growned- ups tell bad kiddies, but..."
"But what?"
"They say that a girl with green hair and eyes will be sent in times of peril. She will uproot the earth, and when the battle is over, the victor will never fight wars again in their liftime, and their sons' lifetimes, and their sons' sons' lifetimes, for the cost of the war will be so great."
I laughed, "I doubt that'd happen. Why would I get caught in a war? I hate fighting. And I wouldn't be strong enough to 'uproot the earth'."
Jamon laughed, too, but I saw the doubt in his eyes.
Thud. Thud. THUD! With a huge noise, one of the cupboards in the room opened, and out fell Granmother, tied up and gagged. Jamon and I huried over to help her. He sat her down on a seat, and I untied her gag and binding. "I swear, on the Goddes, Mithros and Trickster, that when I hunt down that good for nothin' father of yours, I'm gonna kill 'im. But first, I'll torture him. I'll hang 'im by 'is thumbs and force 'im to drink my cough syrup. Then when 'e's beggin' for mercy I'll-"
"Granmother, that's enough," Jamon said quietly.
"No, it's not enough," she said, still raging, "he tied me up and stole my dignity. Then they throw me in that stuffy hole, while delicious food smells waft in."
I put a hand on her arm. "It's okay, he's gone," hopefully for good I added mentally.
"Stop wasting yer breath on that sewer rat, 'n' get me some food. I'm starvin'!"
* * * * * * * * * *
The next day I woke up in my room in Granmother's house. After we had all eaten, Jamon and I helped Granmother home. She had complained all the way about how stupid some people could be, and why would someone tie up an old lady? She had muttered to herself all the way up to bed, and after the lights were out, I could still hear her muttering.
Looking through the closet, where I had put my new clothes, and donned this beautiful, royal blue nightgown. Then I went into the hall and went down the stairs. Sitting there was a strange girl. I didn't get more then a glimpse of her before she threw a blue ball of magic at me. The last thing I remembered was her face grinning evilly at me as I sunk into unconcsiousness. "Night- night, my pretty, no one steals Jamon from me, no- one!!"