I won't bother you with an author's note.
The Things I Do
Havelock/OFC
Thirteen:
...we're fine...
...Angua untouched by Afhan's silver...
...Ping killed by Leroux...
...Afhan still at large, so you'll be safe here. Please don't do anything stupid, Pulotti, I know you're capable. I am in perfectly adept hands and the security has been tightened.
Do stop frowning, I know you hate this, but it's for the best.
Just remember that you're doing this for me.
-H.V.
I crumpled up the letter for the umpteenth time and pressed my fist to my head. I was going insane, locked up in a cabin in the middle of who-knows-where. I had been here for what felt like years, when it had been two months. I had nothing, no communication with anyone except the people in the village who thought I was some sort of witch and refused to talk to me directly.
At least they left food on my doormat.
Trust Havelock to do something like this.
Rat bastard.
I curled up on my bed and set my chin on my knees, staring at the fire. Invariably, my thoughts whirled around him and I couldn't stop my reaction.
Gods damn you, Havelock. They must be having one hell of a party up there at my expense.
I stretched out over the bed and shed my clothing, staring up at the rafters as my hand drifted down my body.
Havelock.
Please come back.
ooo
He was staring down at the massacred body of Afhan and I stood in the shadows, watching his prone form turn away in disgust and walk back into the palace.
"Havelock!" Nothing. I could make no sound and I cried into my hands as he drifted right past me, the edges of his cloak whispering against my naked skin...
I sat up in bed, sweating, and pulled my cloak around myself, stepping out of the cabin. The wind stung, cold, unforgiving, and I strode over the hills and knolls, hand hovering all the time over my sword. The path curved and bumped under the worn soles of my boots and I stopped at the edges of the forest that surrounded me.
He was here.
He had been here since the beginning, hiding out, biding his time. Waiting. Lurking. I wasn't stupid.
Well. Right now, I wasn't stupid. Put Vetinari into the equation and I was bound to lose all control of my faculties.
The shadow flitted through the trees and I wondered if he saw me. My ears pricked into the silence and long, drawn-out howl of a wolf sent a thrill of fear through my bones.
...Please don't do anything stupid, Pulotti...
Too late, Havelock.
"Hello, Leroux."
The wolf morphed and he leered at me. He was more than a man, with canine teeth and wild muscles. My spine froze, but I tossed my head.
"Afhan's here, too."
The werewolf smiled, but didn't make a sound. My hand gripped the hilt of my sword.
"How come I'm still alive?" Bad question.
Leroux jerked forward – I drew my sword and poked it against his skin. He laughed, the first noise he made.
"It's not silver, little girl. You can't kill me with that!"
"No. I suppose I can't."
He slammed me against a tree and I let him rip away the blouse. The silver pentacle gleamed in the moonlight between my breasts and the werewolf froze.
"With this, however..."
I pivoted forward, pentacle grasped in my hand. Blood flowed over my skin and his claws ripped at my pants before he took off in another direction, snarling. I knew I hadn't killed him. I knew he'd still be out there. But for some reason, I had a thought that if I completed one last thing, he wouldn't be back for me.
"Carla. You're already ready for me!"
I turned around, the moonlight striking off metallic red and dark silver. The sword flew from my hands and lodged itself in his heart. He gasped and choked up blood and acid. He looked horrible.
He had been running from Leroux.
And now neither of us had to.
I could have said something witty. I could have sneered in his face and said, "End of the action, you rat bastard." Or, "You're lucky you aren't a werewolf." Or, "May my body grace your nightmares." Or just a simple, "See you in the afterlife, you son of a bitch."
All of them and more ran through my mind as he died at my bare feet. But I sagged, ran a bloodied hand down my face, and sighed.
"Fuck this."
I walked back to the cabin, leaving my sword in his chest, and stopped at the top of the last knoll, stark naked and bathed by the moon.
I wondered if they were still laughing or if this was what they meant all along.
I'd mail the body and the sword express tomorrow, in a big pine coffin, to Ankh-Morpork. I'd wait and sit and pace, and maybe catch up on my dart-throwing, and probably wank every night. Is it called wanking for a woman?
It didn't matter.
None of it mattered anymore.
ooo
Well that certainly took forever.
::blinks::
I'll be barricading my house now...
-PurpleEmperor