Swordplay
Chapter 2: "What To Do When A Raccoon Talks"
By Dragon
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and implications.
Disclaimer: World belongs to Tamora Pierce. In some cases, the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. I'm not even going to bother with the "don't sue!" comment, because I'm sure none of you will. Thank you for reading! Please review.
Kieran HaMinch was exactly how you would picture a conservative. He was a stern looking man, with his straight mouth and cold eyes. His graying hair was cropped close to his head and his hairline was receding. He often grumbled about this because it made him appear older than he was. He was a plain man with no other desire in the world but to sit down next to the fireplace and sleep.
That's why he traded the years in the field for being a training master. Which turned out to be a mistake, because ordering around children was a lot harder than it looked. This obviously showed he had no children. A wife, yes, but he didn't know much about her. In fact, when he actually thought about her he had a hard time doing so because he wasn't sure if he'd gotten her name right.
So he just decided to call her Sarah, even though it probably wasn't right, when he did think about her (which wasn't often). Well, right now he wasn't thinking about his wife Sarah. He was thinking about this lunatic of a girl the King had so stupidly allowed to train at the palace.
Stupid girl has to come and make my life difficult, HaMinch snapped inside his head. He didn't like people who made his life harder than it really had to be. Which means he didn't really like anybody. He was positive he wasn't going to like this girl much at all. HaMinch had a feeling there was some reason he was thinking about her, but he couldn't quite remember what it was.
Firesong knocked on the door to the training master's office. No answer. She turned the knob, but the office was locked. She pounded on the door. No answer. She rolled her eyes, swore under her breath, and decided to take a walk. So she left the servants with her large amount of bags. She ordered them not to touch anything that looked beautiful or incredibly hideous. Chances are they would not like the results.
As she wandered down the hall, her head in the clouds, because there really wasn't much to look at. She was startled when something bumped into her boot. She looked down. She blinked. It was a raccoon. She would've of found this raccoon very unimportant, considering the fact that the Wildmage lived in the palace, except for the little fact that it talked. And she was pretty sure that she did not have Wildmagic. In fact, she was positive.
"Hey," It yelped. "Watch it."
Fire continued to stare.
"Hide me," It said in its raspy voice.
"What?" Fire said. She broke from her daze and rubbed her eyes.
"Hide me," It repeated. Irritation was evident in its voice.
"Why?"
"Because they'll kill me!" The raccoon hissed.
"Oh." Fire looked around for a place she could possibly put it. She didn't know why she as helping it--him. She really couldn't care less if raccoons died. They weren't exactly relevant to her. But it probably had something to do with the fact that it could actually talk. She looked: Door. Door. Door. Door. Cracked door. Cracked door was good.
"Good, door," She said aloud.
"Huh?" The raccoon looked up at her with its beady black eyes.
"Follow me."
As the butcher turned the corner he was surprised by what he saw. Absolutely nothing. He grumbled and raised his knife ready for the little garbage thief. Fire silently finished closing the door. They could hear the man mumbling and swearing to himself as he slowly walked down the hall.
The raccoon scuttled over to the mahogany desk set in the middle of the room and perched himself among the papers. It looked her over from head to toe. But his eyes didn't quite reach her head. He kind of stopped somewhere in the middle. Fire frowned at him. She could not make out exactly what he was doing, but she had a feeling it wasn't proper. Not that she cared about being proper. It just sort of disturbed her that a raccoon was looking at her that way. She shuddered.
"Stop that," She ordered.
"Stop what?" The raccoon played dumb. "What am I doing?"
"You're looking at me," She told him.
"Is that a crime?" The raccoon asked. "Because I wasn't aware that it was a crime. If it is a crime I'm sure we're both in trouble. You're looking at me too."
"I'm not looking at your ass or your chest, now am I?" Fire growled.
"What makes you think that?" The raccoon, although loosing, continued to play on. His little paws were clacking and wringing together nervously. This did not go by Fire unnoticed. She just rolled her eyes. She was not looking forward to playing this stupid game all day long.
So she made a very small comment that seemed to end every uncomfortable conversation quite easily: "Whatever."
An uncomfortable silence came. Finally the idea of a talking raccoon had settled into Fire's mind. She decided at that moment to leave. Hysterics were beginning to settle in, and she could not allow that to happen. She exited into the hall, but the raccoon followed at her feet.
"You're leaving?" The raccoon asked her.
"Go away," Fire hissed.
"Why?"
Fire ignored him.
"Well, can I get a kiss before we depart ways. Or maybe something more."
Fire stopped, the raccoon bumped into her heels. Fire slowly pieced things together. A raccoon was talking to her. And as if that wasn't weird enough, he was asking her for a tumble. Finally after a moment of silence:
"I'm crazy! People always called me crazy," She mumbled and kept walking, "and now I'm starting to believe it too. Maybe if I try hard enough it will go away," She concluded.
"You're not crazy," The raccoon grinned up at her.
"A talking raccoon wants to sleep with me! What in Mithros damn name am I suppose to believe?" She shrieked.
The raccoon looked around nervously. Eating those biscuits had been a very bad idea. It wasn't as if they were particularly going to be missed. The raccoon made a note to never underestimate the power of bread products ever again. "Lady, keep it down! He'll hear!"
"He's gone! And what do I care if he kills you!" She continued in a rather loud voice. "Maybe it will confirm my sanity!"
"You're sane," The raccoon assured her.
Fire wasn't convinced. She plugged her ears and looked up at the ceiling. She mumbled to be sure that no other sound got in. Occasionally, she did have to look ahead. She didn't like the idea of running into anything sharp. But at one such time when she wasn't looking straight ahead and at the ceiling (the raccoon was gone and she wanted to keep it that way) she bumped into something big and kind of greasy.
The man's papers fell to the floor. He was tall, dark, and-the phrased stopped at dark because he was really, really ugly. Fire blinked and reached down to pick up a piece of paper. The man growled and ripped the paper from her hands. He sneered which showed his crooked teeth. One was missing. Fire shuddered.
"Watch where you're walking, crazy bitch," He hissed. She looked at him appalled. She was actually being considerably nice and he had the guts to insult her. Not that she found crazy bitch a bad insult (it was actually one of the nicer), but that wasn't the point. Stupid ugly bastard, Fire growled.
Out loud she mimicked him, "Watch who you look at it. You might just kill them."
Then she walked away, flipping her raven curls as she did so, leaving the man standing there in fury. He mouthed the word 'bitch', but she didn't see.
Fire eventually found the training master's office again. He was there, having remembered why he was thinking of her. Her large amount of bags had been taken to her room to much of her relief. HaMinch sat there, arms crossed and mouth frowning. He asked her why she was late. She blinked and asked him if he wanted the truth.
"Hey, you left your door cracked. You should be more careful next time. A girl wandered in here today."
The wizard looked up from the letter he was reading. He snarled at the raccoon. "What's that?"
"A beautiful girl, she was," He sighed. "Wavy black hair, blue eyes, a firm."
The mage glared. "Short? Young? Big mouth?"
"Huh?" The raccoon mumbled.
"The girl, you idiot!" The mage bellowed. He threw his paperweight at the raccoon. It missed.
The raccoon, a bit shaken now, nodded. "Yeah, yeah she was."
"Did she touch anything?" The mage said low. His temper was rising. He felt power building up in his chest.
"No, no. She thought she was crazy and left af-" The raccoon caught himself. "Yeah, she left."
The man growled and swept his greasy hair out of his face. He didn't like the idea of that idiot girl snooping around. He had a feeling they would see each other again. In fact, he was almost positive. Not that he had more than a hunch to base that off. But sometimes that was all a person needed to be right.
"Tell me if she ever comes back," The mage ordered.
"Whatever you say, Doran!"
"Idiot," the mage grumbled.
~
Note: I'm so sorry this was late! It was suppose to be posted the day after "The Very Pointless Beginning", but it didn't work out that way. I ran into a minor case of WB. It's probably very evident above. Needless to say, this chapter gave me a really BIG headache. Thinking about it gives me a headache. I'm sorry for any errors in the story. I don't have a beta, so unless someone volunteers I won't ever have a beta. And if this seems like a bunch of stupid nonsense to you, then you can blame it on Douglas Adams. He is my inspiration. Of course, my style is intertwined. Please review! Thanx.
Blessed be, Dragon
Chapter 2: "What To Do When A Raccoon Talks"
By Dragon
Rating: PG-13 for swearing and implications.
Disclaimer: World belongs to Tamora Pierce. In some cases, the characters belong to Tamora Pierce. I'm not even going to bother with the "don't sue!" comment, because I'm sure none of you will. Thank you for reading! Please review.
Kieran HaMinch was exactly how you would picture a conservative. He was a stern looking man, with his straight mouth and cold eyes. His graying hair was cropped close to his head and his hairline was receding. He often grumbled about this because it made him appear older than he was. He was a plain man with no other desire in the world but to sit down next to the fireplace and sleep.
That's why he traded the years in the field for being a training master. Which turned out to be a mistake, because ordering around children was a lot harder than it looked. This obviously showed he had no children. A wife, yes, but he didn't know much about her. In fact, when he actually thought about her he had a hard time doing so because he wasn't sure if he'd gotten her name right.
So he just decided to call her Sarah, even though it probably wasn't right, when he did think about her (which wasn't often). Well, right now he wasn't thinking about his wife Sarah. He was thinking about this lunatic of a girl the King had so stupidly allowed to train at the palace.
Stupid girl has to come and make my life difficult, HaMinch snapped inside his head. He didn't like people who made his life harder than it really had to be. Which means he didn't really like anybody. He was positive he wasn't going to like this girl much at all. HaMinch had a feeling there was some reason he was thinking about her, but he couldn't quite remember what it was.
Firesong knocked on the door to the training master's office. No answer. She turned the knob, but the office was locked. She pounded on the door. No answer. She rolled her eyes, swore under her breath, and decided to take a walk. So she left the servants with her large amount of bags. She ordered them not to touch anything that looked beautiful or incredibly hideous. Chances are they would not like the results.
As she wandered down the hall, her head in the clouds, because there really wasn't much to look at. She was startled when something bumped into her boot. She looked down. She blinked. It was a raccoon. She would've of found this raccoon very unimportant, considering the fact that the Wildmage lived in the palace, except for the little fact that it talked. And she was pretty sure that she did not have Wildmagic. In fact, she was positive.
"Hey," It yelped. "Watch it."
Fire continued to stare.
"Hide me," It said in its raspy voice.
"What?" Fire said. She broke from her daze and rubbed her eyes.
"Hide me," It repeated. Irritation was evident in its voice.
"Why?"
"Because they'll kill me!" The raccoon hissed.
"Oh." Fire looked around for a place she could possibly put it. She didn't know why she as helping it--him. She really couldn't care less if raccoons died. They weren't exactly relevant to her. But it probably had something to do with the fact that it could actually talk. She looked: Door. Door. Door. Door. Cracked door. Cracked door was good.
"Good, door," She said aloud.
"Huh?" The raccoon looked up at her with its beady black eyes.
"Follow me."
As the butcher turned the corner he was surprised by what he saw. Absolutely nothing. He grumbled and raised his knife ready for the little garbage thief. Fire silently finished closing the door. They could hear the man mumbling and swearing to himself as he slowly walked down the hall.
The raccoon scuttled over to the mahogany desk set in the middle of the room and perched himself among the papers. It looked her over from head to toe. But his eyes didn't quite reach her head. He kind of stopped somewhere in the middle. Fire frowned at him. She could not make out exactly what he was doing, but she had a feeling it wasn't proper. Not that she cared about being proper. It just sort of disturbed her that a raccoon was looking at her that way. She shuddered.
"Stop that," She ordered.
"Stop what?" The raccoon played dumb. "What am I doing?"
"You're looking at me," She told him.
"Is that a crime?" The raccoon asked. "Because I wasn't aware that it was a crime. If it is a crime I'm sure we're both in trouble. You're looking at me too."
"I'm not looking at your ass or your chest, now am I?" Fire growled.
"What makes you think that?" The raccoon, although loosing, continued to play on. His little paws were clacking and wringing together nervously. This did not go by Fire unnoticed. She just rolled her eyes. She was not looking forward to playing this stupid game all day long.
So she made a very small comment that seemed to end every uncomfortable conversation quite easily: "Whatever."
An uncomfortable silence came. Finally the idea of a talking raccoon had settled into Fire's mind. She decided at that moment to leave. Hysterics were beginning to settle in, and she could not allow that to happen. She exited into the hall, but the raccoon followed at her feet.
"You're leaving?" The raccoon asked her.
"Go away," Fire hissed.
"Why?"
Fire ignored him.
"Well, can I get a kiss before we depart ways. Or maybe something more."
Fire stopped, the raccoon bumped into her heels. Fire slowly pieced things together. A raccoon was talking to her. And as if that wasn't weird enough, he was asking her for a tumble. Finally after a moment of silence:
"I'm crazy! People always called me crazy," She mumbled and kept walking, "and now I'm starting to believe it too. Maybe if I try hard enough it will go away," She concluded.
"You're not crazy," The raccoon grinned up at her.
"A talking raccoon wants to sleep with me! What in Mithros damn name am I suppose to believe?" She shrieked.
The raccoon looked around nervously. Eating those biscuits had been a very bad idea. It wasn't as if they were particularly going to be missed. The raccoon made a note to never underestimate the power of bread products ever again. "Lady, keep it down! He'll hear!"
"He's gone! And what do I care if he kills you!" She continued in a rather loud voice. "Maybe it will confirm my sanity!"
"You're sane," The raccoon assured her.
Fire wasn't convinced. She plugged her ears and looked up at the ceiling. She mumbled to be sure that no other sound got in. Occasionally, she did have to look ahead. She didn't like the idea of running into anything sharp. But at one such time when she wasn't looking straight ahead and at the ceiling (the raccoon was gone and she wanted to keep it that way) she bumped into something big and kind of greasy.
The man's papers fell to the floor. He was tall, dark, and-the phrased stopped at dark because he was really, really ugly. Fire blinked and reached down to pick up a piece of paper. The man growled and ripped the paper from her hands. He sneered which showed his crooked teeth. One was missing. Fire shuddered.
"Watch where you're walking, crazy bitch," He hissed. She looked at him appalled. She was actually being considerably nice and he had the guts to insult her. Not that she found crazy bitch a bad insult (it was actually one of the nicer), but that wasn't the point. Stupid ugly bastard, Fire growled.
Out loud she mimicked him, "Watch who you look at it. You might just kill them."
Then she walked away, flipping her raven curls as she did so, leaving the man standing there in fury. He mouthed the word 'bitch', but she didn't see.
Fire eventually found the training master's office again. He was there, having remembered why he was thinking of her. Her large amount of bags had been taken to her room to much of her relief. HaMinch sat there, arms crossed and mouth frowning. He asked her why she was late. She blinked and asked him if he wanted the truth.
"Hey, you left your door cracked. You should be more careful next time. A girl wandered in here today."
The wizard looked up from the letter he was reading. He snarled at the raccoon. "What's that?"
"A beautiful girl, she was," He sighed. "Wavy black hair, blue eyes, a firm."
The mage glared. "Short? Young? Big mouth?"
"Huh?" The raccoon mumbled.
"The girl, you idiot!" The mage bellowed. He threw his paperweight at the raccoon. It missed.
The raccoon, a bit shaken now, nodded. "Yeah, yeah she was."
"Did she touch anything?" The mage said low. His temper was rising. He felt power building up in his chest.
"No, no. She thought she was crazy and left af-" The raccoon caught himself. "Yeah, she left."
The man growled and swept his greasy hair out of his face. He didn't like the idea of that idiot girl snooping around. He had a feeling they would see each other again. In fact, he was almost positive. Not that he had more than a hunch to base that off. But sometimes that was all a person needed to be right.
"Tell me if she ever comes back," The mage ordered.
"Whatever you say, Doran!"
"Idiot," the mage grumbled.
~
Note: I'm so sorry this was late! It was suppose to be posted the day after "The Very Pointless Beginning", but it didn't work out that way. I ran into a minor case of WB. It's probably very evident above. Needless to say, this chapter gave me a really BIG headache. Thinking about it gives me a headache. I'm sorry for any errors in the story. I don't have a beta, so unless someone volunteers I won't ever have a beta. And if this seems like a bunch of stupid nonsense to you, then you can blame it on Douglas Adams. He is my inspiration. Of course, my style is intertwined. Please review! Thanx.
Blessed be, Dragon
