I walked back through the streets a few hours later, the night shadows easy to hide in. I pulled my hood up over my face – the one eyed woman, my newest nickname, was getting far too well known… with far too many enemies. Lowtown had become familiar in my mercenary work. I made for home quietly. The bundle in my arms shifted and Owen's bright amber eyes peeked out from under my cloak. He sniffed carefully and then retreated to the safety of my arms.
It had taken me quite some time to get him to get used to the feel of being carried and he refused to poke his head out for more than a few minutes at a time. I assumed it would take a long while for him to overcome his fears of the world – those experiences had not been kind to him. The reminders were all too clear in how alarmingly light he was. At this age he should at least be twenty five pounds if not more. Instead he felt feather light and all pointy bones.
I paused in front of the house and twisted my nose in disgust. Gamlen had been drinking again. The smell of alcohol and stale vomit was horrifyingly pungent. I opened the door and closed it quietly. The kitchen was empty, the fire down to a few glowing coals. Owen pressed himself closer to me as I carefully took my cloak off. A panicked whine began in the back of his throat and I was well enough acquainted with the knowledge of safe zones to know he was going into a full out panic attack. I quickly set him on the floor and draped the cloak around us. He calmed down immediately and he looked at me with frightened eyes.
"It's alright. This is my home dear one. No harm shall come to you." I said softly and stroked his head until his shaking stopped. He got to his feet, unsteady from malnutrition, and stumbled outside of the cape. I watched as he sniffed cautiously and then zipped back to me. I kept my place on the floor and waited patiently until he was comfortable outside. I set the cape on the floor and got to my feet. He stuck close to my legs as I walked quietly across the room, almost tripping me at points. I reached into the pantry and took out more dried meat. Owen's nose immediately went into the air and I chuckled as his ears pricked.
I softened it again and then fed him some more strips. He gulped them down with gusto and then whined at me for more. I shook my head and stowed the rest away. He would only make himself sick if he ate more. Owen wasn't used to this much food yet.
He didn't seem to understand why I wasn't feeding him more. He gave a loud yip and I kneeled down, afraid that he had woken someone up.
"Hush Owen." I said sternly and he closed his mouth obediently. "You'll get ill if I feed you more. Tell me when you are very hungry again."
"Logan?"
I jerked my head up at the call of my name and Owen whimpered, jumping into my arms at the sight of another person. I cradled him in my arms and looked up at my Mother in her night gown.
"It's me Mother." I said softly, calming the puppy down.
"Who do you have with you?" She asked, keeping her voice down as well. Leandra walked closer and Owen hid behind my legs, his ears flat against his head. "A puppy?"
She went still and crouched, having experience with terrified animals before. Her dress pooled over her legs as I explained what happened. Owen began to calm at the sound of my voice and became brave enough to come and sit beside me, watching Mother suspiciously.
"I see." Leandra said. "What a terrible man. Carver came home earlier but said nothing."
"I imagined he wouldn't." I replied. "Is Gamlen here?"
Mother's lips pursed in distaste.
"He is. Although I doubt anything short of a stampede could wake him."
I nodded mutely. The man had drunk himself into a stupor. I wondered if Carver had given him money for drinks to spite me, after I specifically told him not to.
"And this is Owen?" Mothers tone and face took a turn for the gentle as she looked at the tiny creature at my side. His ears perked at the sound of his name. Owen looked up at me, unsure what to do. I smiled at him comfortingly.
"Come here Owen. It's alright. I won't hurt you." Leandra called.
Owen looked up at me and then back at Mother. He tilted his head and sniffed the air before looking back up and me and whining.
"It is all right. She raised me." I said gently. I don't know whether he understood the bond between us but he stepped forward tentatively and kept moving until he sat in front of Leandra. He looked back at me, unsure. I nodded and he looked back at Mother as she raised her hand and gently rested it on his head.
He flinched but once the gesture brought no pain, the tension in his muscles dissolved and he let Mother pet him.
"He's so skinny.." Mother fretted as she put him in her lap. Owen seemed to be enjoying the attention.
"I fed him as much as I could without making him ill." I said and Mother nodded. She had been the one to teach me of malnutrition when we had been caring for a colt that had wandered away and returned as sickly as Owen.
"Well then, it's late and rest will do as all some good." Mother said briskly and reached to pick Owen up. He squirmed away from her and scampered back to me. I blinked, astonished but nevertheless leaned down to pick him up.
I followed Mother into our makeshift bedroom where she slid into the bottom bunk. All I could see of Carver on the top bunk was a tussle of black hair and the rise and fall of his chest. I made haste to slip into the simple trousers and lawn shift I slept in – as it was quite cold now the sun had gone down – and lay down on the burlap sacks that made up my bed. I looked down at Owen on the floor who was looking at me inquisitively. I patted the empty spot next to me. There wasn't much room but I could share.
He scrambled up and caught his paw on the burlap sack and tumbling off the edge, looking confused as to what had just happened. I felt a laugh in the back of my throat that I restrained. I didn't want to wake anyone up. Owen attempted it again and made it to the safety of my arms. He curled up with a contented sigh and I gently ran a hand over his back.
He did need a bath though.
X
I woke to the sounds of arguing. It didn't matter as much anyway, since my sleep was rarely peaceful these days. I shifted carefully to avoid waking Owen and got up. A quick glance at the bunk told me Carver had already gone. He must still be angry with me.
I sighed and opened the door to a full blown war between my mother and Gamlen.
"Do you have any idea what it was like?!" Gamlen shouted. "I cared for them when they were ill and where were you?!"
"The twins were a week old!" Mother retaliated. "How could-"
"Please quiet down." I said, respectful and hopefully commanding their attention.
I did command their attention much to my misfortune.
"You know Logan! You know that I could not have come when Bethany and Carver were so young!" Mother said.
"And where was that apostate of yours?!" Gamlen snarled.
"That's quite enough." My words were cold as I stepped forward. No one spoke about my father that way and got away with it. Gamlen looked at me and started mumbling incoherently under his breath.
"I'll be going out then." He said stiffly and slammed the door shut behind him. I breathed a silent sigh of relief. He was getting worse and worse.
"Thank you Logan." Mother said and I smiled briefly.
A little yip caught my attention and I looked at Owen cowering in the doorway. I frowned. Gamlen must have scared him when he shouted and walked out like that.
"Come here, it's alright. He's gone now." I coaxed, crouching and holding my arms out. The pup rushed to me and I held him close.
"It is a good thing Gamlen didn't see him. I don't know how we're going to convince him to let Owen stay." Mother observed and reached to take Owen from me. I transferred him carefully and he leaned into my mother as she whispered softly into his ear, petting him gently.
"He would hardly remember if he was drunk." I observed after a moment and I was startled by my mother's laugh. I hadn't meant it to be funny but I was happy she found it so nonetheless.
"True, true. I can see the look on his face now." Mother chuckled and then wrinkled her nose. "Do you think we can give him a bath? He is rather rank. And I would like to check if he is wounded under all that matted fur."
"We can try." I said and reached over for more meat strips to keep him distracted. Mother nodded, approving as Owen squirmed in her arms at the smell of food. She set him down and went to take the kettle off the fire. It had been meant for porridge but it wasn't quite hot yet and Mother didn't seem to mind.
I kept Owen's attention on me while Mother bustled about. I figured if he was going to stay with us, he should at least know basic commands.
"Sit." I said, wondering what he would do with the command. He looked up at me questioningly. He knew I wanted something from him, he just didn't quite understand what. I demonstrated sitting on the floor and then repeated the command.
Owen blinked and then slowly sat on his haunches.
"What a quick learner." I smiled and gave him a meat strip. He got up and wagged his stubby little tail.
I repeated the sit command three times. By the third, he knew exactly what to do. Mabari were truly brilliant creatures. But now that I was looking at him in a better light I realized he wasn't just mabari. There was something else mixed in – his muzzle didn't have the bear like attribute that a pureblood mabari had. Instead it was slimmer and a little longer. His fur was too long for a mabari coat and of an unusual color. His stub was longer than the usual tail, his paws smaller and his legs longer. His right ear also flopped over but that was a trait in all puppies.
But the differences were fairly subtle – except for the muzzle and coat he looked like a true Mabari warhound. Obviously his intelligence was not affected by his breeding and I'm sure I would not care even if it was.
I watched as Mother poured a mixture of warm and cool water into the small bin we used for laundry and nodded to me. I started to walk away, holding the meat in my hand to coax Owen over. He was smarter than most dogs however and saw the waiting tub. He tilted his head and I saw his brow wrinkle. It was a most amusing expression.
Owen trotted up to the basin, knowing that's where I was trying to lead him. He sniffed the water and then sniffed my mother's hands where she held the soap and promptly dove right in. My mother made a protesting noise as Owen popped his head back up, soaking a part of her dress. Already I could see the dust coming off him and turning the water brown.
He yipped at me and looked at the meat in my hand.
I did what you wanted. Feed me now? Was all the translation I needed.
I chuckled and gave it to him, ruffling his ears. His tail thumped against the bottom of the basin as we gently scrubbed his back. Instead of panicking, like I had been expecting, he seemed to be enjoying the attention.
I frowned as the knots in the fur refused to come loose, no matter how much soap or gently coaxing I used. Mother seemed to come to the same conclusion.
"We'll have to cut his fur down and wait till it regrows." She sighed, admitting defeat.
"I could more easily check for wounds if his fur was shorter too." I agreed and took a small knife from my belt. Owen tensed up and I stopped, letting him examine it. He watched me for a moment and then relaxed. I was touched by his trust. He wasn't exactly happy as I began to carefully saw off chunks of fur but he wasn't going to bolt either.
I began to see more and more of the effects of his starvation. The short fur clung to his skeletal frame. It was a miracle he had survived this long. I could see the anger on my Mother's face and she swept up the fur chunks to place on a linen cloth to be thrown out. When I couldn't cut anymore – the areas around his ears and his ankles – we did our best to untangle the mats. The job was made harder by Owen turning around to see what we were doing. He also discovered we would retreat when he splashed us.
By the time the bath was over, Mother and I might as well have had one too. We were soaked. Owen seemed to find this funny however and had a big lipped smile on his muzzle. I took a linen and pulled him out onto my lap, seeing as I was already wet anyway. I dried him briskly and carefully. He made a surprised noise when the white cloth fell over his head and stumbled out of from underneath looking very confused.
I chuckled low in my throat and took another linen to dry out my hair. Owen shook himself and I was glad to see he was at least somewhat recovering his more natural instincts. I had to admit, he looked much better, if not a little silly. The longer fur around his ears stuck up oddly in a contrast to the short and uneven fur that covered the rest of him now. The fur had been revealed to be a rich warm mahogany color under all the dirt and while there had been a lot of scars, there were no open wounds. A relief to be sure.
"Now all he needs is some feeding and he will be just fine." Mother said, beginning to mop up the water mess Owen had made. I went to help her, picking up the bin to dump outside. Owen stuck close to me much more energetic after a good meal and a good night's rest. Now standing up confidently, he came up the middle of my calf. He'd looked much smaller earlier and I was glad for the change.
I was pouring the dirty water in the gutter when Owen suddenly came and cowered behind my legs. I looked up abruptly and frowned when I saw it was Meeran. He didn't look happy. Then again, the man never usually did.
I straightened as he crossed his arms.
"Where were ya this morning Hawke?" He asked, his eyes narrowed. I suddenly felt vulnerable without my armor, standing in the simple clothing I had worn to sleep. Those eyes, so like my uncle Gamlen's, flickered to the mabari hiding behind my legs.
"Hardly your concern." I said coolly, shifting to shield Owen from view. "Surely that is not what brought the leader of the Red Iron out here?"
Meeran spat and I looked on with vague disgust as he started to speak again.
"That mongrel brother o' yours-"
"Don't speak of him like that." I warned.
"You forget I paid you way inta the city." He snapped back. "That bastard was seen by tha Carta and he let those damn flichers take our money!"
Bile rose in my throat at hearing my brother called that. I waited, my anger rising with each fleeting word and making the magic in my blood boil.
"You think you are high and mighty but your family is nothing but a bunch of worthless snakes – your uncle and your mother and that fatherless idiot you call a brother!"
"Enough." I said. The word was harsh as I tried not to snarl. The scar under the bandages sent a thrill of pain down my spine as I twitched my fingers unconsciously.
"And you have the gall to order me around? You're nothing more than another bitch in the family!"
I was about to move forward when Owen leaped from behind my legs and snarled at Meeran, the short fur on his spike standing as tall as it could get. His ears were pressed flat against his head and his lips pulled back to reveal long teeth.
Meeran scoffed at my mabari and I tensed.
"A pathetic scrap of fur. You should have thrown him on the streets instead of becoming a soft hearted b-" His words cut off in surprise as Owen threw himself at Meeran and sank his teeth into one of Meeran's arms.
"You mangy stupid-" Meeran shouted, his words degenerating into a stream of profanities and I saw his hand reach for a knife. I quickly took Owen and grabbed the wrist holding the knife. Owen squirmed from my arms and I let him jump down.
"You and I both know that you can't afford to lose my help. Not when you're so short on hands." I said softly, the air falling a few degrees. "You just insulted my family in every possible way. You can have nothing more to say."
"You think you can-" He started to snarl.
"I would not finish that sentence if I were you." I said coldly. I could see he felt the temperature drop and he was becoming more nervous.
I dropped his wrist and stepped back when he fell silent.
"If we understand each other…" I began and he glowered at me before turning around. I waited until he was out of hearing distance before I sighed and covered my eye. Only two more months until this nightmare with Meeran was over. A soft touch on my leg made me move my hand to look down. Owen put his paw on my leg and whined softly, his brow furrowed again.
"No you silly thing. You didn't do anything wrong." I whispered and picked him up, stroking his back. He licked my cheek and the tension in my shoulders melted a little bit.
I put him down and picked up the basin, walking back towards the house. I opened the door and set the basin just inside and went to retrieve my armor when Carver burst through the door. I turned around, surprised, as Owen took refuge behind some crates.
"Carver?" Mother asked, appearing from the curtain separating Gamlen's room from the kitchen.
"What is it?" I asked but he wouldn't meet my eyes. He simply brushed past me into the bedroom. I followed him silently as he lay down on the bed.
I had seen him do this before as a child. He would seek solace in his room if he had realized he was wrong about something and hadn't wanted to apologize. I knew bothering him would only intensify his stubbornness so I quietly started picking through my armor pile. I had completely forgotten that Carver had not met Owen.
The mabari puppy skidded into the room and crashed into a nearby crate. Carver looked up, a blaze of anger in his blue eyes that quickly turned to surprise.
"Logan." He asked and I looked up, trying not to smile. "Is that a-"
"Mabari puppy, yes." I said and he sat up slowly as I detangled the confused creature from the moth eaten linens. "This is Owen."
Carver sat down slowly on the floor and offered his hand.
"Here boy." He called softly and I glanced at Mother who was looking on. Her eyes shone with relief as Owen strode over and plunked himself right in front of my brother. When Carver tried to pet him, he pulled away with a frustrated look and stuck his nose into Carver's hands.
"I think he thinks you have food on you." I said with a small chuckle. "Here."
I threw him a dried strip and he caught it easily, feeding the demanding rascal.
"Oh I can't wait till I see Gamlen's face when he figures out we got a dog." Carver said with a grin as he played with Owen.
The door slammed open again and Gamlen's incoherent shouting rung through the house. Carver and Mother both looked at me and I sighed.
"I guess I'll tell him."
