Disclaimer and A.N.:
They still aren't mine. If they were, do you honestly think Zechs would wear that much clothing?
A bodhran is a kind of drum. You hold it in one hand, and hold the stick in the other, and hit with both ends of the stick. It's my favorite sort of instrument! It can be merry, mournful, powerful. anything. The percussion equivalent of a violin, IMO. Both of the songs here are traditional, but the versions are by Great Big Sea (whose website is at greatbigsea.ca , and whom I'm going to see in November). Their music inspired the whole fic.
Reviewers: Relwarc: Yup, he has got a lot of work to do. I've figured out what he's done, though, and it's actually helped me with a good scene *g* . Bryony, You're right about the accent. I might even go back and take it out. It's a pain to write, even though it's fun. (I think the word you're looking for is onomatopoeia :o) ).Glad you liked the 2+H - here's some more!
The sailor trudged across the cobbles by the docks of Southampton. He could feel each one through the holes in his boots, and prayed fervently that he didn't step in anything.
"Shite." No such luck. He decided against lifting his foot to examine whatever was seeping through onto his left foot. He'd probably regret it. He stepped carefully around the rest of the puddle and strolled off, braid swinging jauntily behind him. He slowed down every time he passed an inn, listening carefully.
The King's Head. Merry enough, but no.
The Dancing Damsel. Not a chance.
The Priest's Cassock. The noises coming from within were promising, but a place with a name like that probably watered its drinks. And Duo Maxwell wanted to get drunk tonight. So he continued, listening intently until he came to a board painted with a leering sailor and a buxom wench. The Sailor's Rest. He grinned. The sailor didn't seem as if he was going get any rest at all. Best of all, he heard raucous laughter, saucy high-pitched voices, and no music. Adjusting the bodhran across his back, he shouldered aside the door and stepped in.
He presented quite a picture as he stood in the doorway, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim flicker of the oil lamps. Small he was, but the way he stood spoke of strength, and his eyes, even squinting as they were, presented a startling contrast to dark hair and wind-tanned skin. A voice called out from one of the back tables.
"Ha! They're letting babies onto the ships now, are they? Try the Cassock, lad, the whores give lessons for beginners!"
His eyes snapped over to the shadows, and the heckler cringed back into the shadows. Something about those eyes was dangerous. But then the sailor grinned.
"Mustn't be up ta much, then, if'n they can't get the good 'uns. Thinkin' of spendin' some time there?"
From the back corner, there was silence, and Duo threw his head back and laughed. He also ducked out of the way as a large man lumbered towards him at high speed, neatly dodging a fist. The heckler overbalanced and fell to the floor with a thud. Duo poked him with a boot tip, eliciting no response, then chuckled and unslung the bodhran.
"Innkeep?" Spying a burly man in an apron, he nodded and held up the drum. "Board for the night?" At then man's nod, he set himself up on a table, mug within easy reach. At first nobody listened, but the drumbeat grew faster and faster until the entire common room was staring at the blur of his hand, which was keeping perfect time as Duo opened his mouth and sang out,
"Oh won't you come along with me, love Come along with me! Come for one night and be my wife And come along with me!"
His audience got progressively drunker and more merry, laughing at the hapless butcher who paid a sovereign for a night's rollicking, then asked for his change in the morning. They called out suggestions, getting dirtier as the song progressed, and almost spilled their drinks laughing when the singer reached the last part. The butcher returned to the tavern:
"He wasn't in there very long when his fair maid he did see And she brought forth a baby three months old and placed it on his knee When he saw the baby, he began to curse and swear And he said unto that fair young maid, "Why did you bring him here?!" "Well he is your own, kind sir", she said, "Do not think me strange, Well that sovereign that you gave to me, I gives you back your change!!".
Duo sang late into the night, unaware that he was being watched by one of the serving girls, who every so often disappeared upstairs with one of the sailors. When downstairs, her hips swung saucily in time with the music and she fairly danced across the room, smoothly enough to not spill anything, but with a bounce in her step.
The night wore on, and the patrons gradually moved either upstairs or out the door, until there was only Duo, sitting on a table, well on his way to being drunk, and the tavern workers clearing up around him as he sang. He switched to a ballad, beating out a slow steady rhythm on the bodhran.
"A nobleman's fair daughter Went down a narrow lane And met with Captain Wedderburn, The keeper of the gate. 'Now my pretty fair maid, If it wasn't for the law, You and I in a bed might lie, Roll me over next to the wall, Roll me over next to the wall'"
He took a deep breath, about to raise his voice to his high range for the maid's answer, when he was cut off by a sweet pure soprano, taking the woman's part. He kept drumming.
"Now, my dear good man" she said, "Do not be perplexed;
Before that you might bed with me you must answer questions six
Six questions you must answer me and I will ask them all
And you and I in a bed might lie"
Roll me over next to the wall
Roll me over next to the wall"
The harmony on the chorus lines came without even a thought, managing to stay soft even while ringing through the room. Duo knew even before the song ended that he'd love this woman if he let himself.
"What is rounder than a ring, And higher than the trees?
What is worse than a woman's curse and what is deeper than the sea?
Which bird sings first, which one best? Where does the dew first fall?
And you and I in a bed might lie"
Roll me over next to the wall Roll me over next to the wall."
She matched his voice easily, tone for tone, throwing forth her challenge, and he answered. His gaze remained fixed on the wall in front of him, but he was aware of a warmth behind him and to his left, and her breath whispered on his ear.
"The earth is rounder than a ring, and Heaven is higher than the trees
The devil is worse than a woman's curse, and Hell is deeper than the sea
The lark sings first, the first sings best, and earth is where the dew falls
And you and I in a bed must lie"
Roll me over next to the wall
Roll me over next to the wall"
Their voices soared on the last verse, tender and loving.
He takes her by her lily-white hand and leads her down the hall
He takes her by her slender waist for fear that she might fall
He lays her on a bed of down without a doubt at all
And he and she lie in one bed
Roll me over next to the wall
And he and she lie in one bed
Roll me over next to the wall."
And Duo Maxwell laid down his drum, cursed himself, turned, and kissed her before he even had a chance to see her.
He woke up the next morning in a bed upstairs to find a note on his sheet. He had to ask the innkeeper to read it to him, and it said:
"We'll sing again, I hope?
Hilde."
They still aren't mine. If they were, do you honestly think Zechs would wear that much clothing?
A bodhran is a kind of drum. You hold it in one hand, and hold the stick in the other, and hit with both ends of the stick. It's my favorite sort of instrument! It can be merry, mournful, powerful. anything. The percussion equivalent of a violin, IMO. Both of the songs here are traditional, but the versions are by Great Big Sea (whose website is at greatbigsea.ca , and whom I'm going to see in November). Their music inspired the whole fic.
Reviewers: Relwarc: Yup, he has got a lot of work to do. I've figured out what he's done, though, and it's actually helped me with a good scene *g* . Bryony, You're right about the accent. I might even go back and take it out. It's a pain to write, even though it's fun. (I think the word you're looking for is onomatopoeia :o) ).Glad you liked the 2+H - here's some more!
The sailor trudged across the cobbles by the docks of Southampton. He could feel each one through the holes in his boots, and prayed fervently that he didn't step in anything.
"Shite." No such luck. He decided against lifting his foot to examine whatever was seeping through onto his left foot. He'd probably regret it. He stepped carefully around the rest of the puddle and strolled off, braid swinging jauntily behind him. He slowed down every time he passed an inn, listening carefully.
The King's Head. Merry enough, but no.
The Dancing Damsel. Not a chance.
The Priest's Cassock. The noises coming from within were promising, but a place with a name like that probably watered its drinks. And Duo Maxwell wanted to get drunk tonight. So he continued, listening intently until he came to a board painted with a leering sailor and a buxom wench. The Sailor's Rest. He grinned. The sailor didn't seem as if he was going get any rest at all. Best of all, he heard raucous laughter, saucy high-pitched voices, and no music. Adjusting the bodhran across his back, he shouldered aside the door and stepped in.
He presented quite a picture as he stood in the doorway, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim flicker of the oil lamps. Small he was, but the way he stood spoke of strength, and his eyes, even squinting as they were, presented a startling contrast to dark hair and wind-tanned skin. A voice called out from one of the back tables.
"Ha! They're letting babies onto the ships now, are they? Try the Cassock, lad, the whores give lessons for beginners!"
His eyes snapped over to the shadows, and the heckler cringed back into the shadows. Something about those eyes was dangerous. But then the sailor grinned.
"Mustn't be up ta much, then, if'n they can't get the good 'uns. Thinkin' of spendin' some time there?"
From the back corner, there was silence, and Duo threw his head back and laughed. He also ducked out of the way as a large man lumbered towards him at high speed, neatly dodging a fist. The heckler overbalanced and fell to the floor with a thud. Duo poked him with a boot tip, eliciting no response, then chuckled and unslung the bodhran.
"Innkeep?" Spying a burly man in an apron, he nodded and held up the drum. "Board for the night?" At then man's nod, he set himself up on a table, mug within easy reach. At first nobody listened, but the drumbeat grew faster and faster until the entire common room was staring at the blur of his hand, which was keeping perfect time as Duo opened his mouth and sang out,
"Oh won't you come along with me, love Come along with me! Come for one night and be my wife And come along with me!"
His audience got progressively drunker and more merry, laughing at the hapless butcher who paid a sovereign for a night's rollicking, then asked for his change in the morning. They called out suggestions, getting dirtier as the song progressed, and almost spilled their drinks laughing when the singer reached the last part. The butcher returned to the tavern:
"He wasn't in there very long when his fair maid he did see And she brought forth a baby three months old and placed it on his knee When he saw the baby, he began to curse and swear And he said unto that fair young maid, "Why did you bring him here?!" "Well he is your own, kind sir", she said, "Do not think me strange, Well that sovereign that you gave to me, I gives you back your change!!".
Duo sang late into the night, unaware that he was being watched by one of the serving girls, who every so often disappeared upstairs with one of the sailors. When downstairs, her hips swung saucily in time with the music and she fairly danced across the room, smoothly enough to not spill anything, but with a bounce in her step.
The night wore on, and the patrons gradually moved either upstairs or out the door, until there was only Duo, sitting on a table, well on his way to being drunk, and the tavern workers clearing up around him as he sang. He switched to a ballad, beating out a slow steady rhythm on the bodhran.
"A nobleman's fair daughter Went down a narrow lane And met with Captain Wedderburn, The keeper of the gate. 'Now my pretty fair maid, If it wasn't for the law, You and I in a bed might lie, Roll me over next to the wall, Roll me over next to the wall'"
He took a deep breath, about to raise his voice to his high range for the maid's answer, when he was cut off by a sweet pure soprano, taking the woman's part. He kept drumming.
"Now, my dear good man" she said, "Do not be perplexed;
Before that you might bed with me you must answer questions six
Six questions you must answer me and I will ask them all
And you and I in a bed might lie"
Roll me over next to the wall
Roll me over next to the wall"
The harmony on the chorus lines came without even a thought, managing to stay soft even while ringing through the room. Duo knew even before the song ended that he'd love this woman if he let himself.
"What is rounder than a ring, And higher than the trees?
What is worse than a woman's curse and what is deeper than the sea?
Which bird sings first, which one best? Where does the dew first fall?
And you and I in a bed might lie"
Roll me over next to the wall Roll me over next to the wall."
She matched his voice easily, tone for tone, throwing forth her challenge, and he answered. His gaze remained fixed on the wall in front of him, but he was aware of a warmth behind him and to his left, and her breath whispered on his ear.
"The earth is rounder than a ring, and Heaven is higher than the trees
The devil is worse than a woman's curse, and Hell is deeper than the sea
The lark sings first, the first sings best, and earth is where the dew falls
And you and I in a bed must lie"
Roll me over next to the wall
Roll me over next to the wall"
Their voices soared on the last verse, tender and loving.
He takes her by her lily-white hand and leads her down the hall
He takes her by her slender waist for fear that she might fall
He lays her on a bed of down without a doubt at all
And he and she lie in one bed
Roll me over next to the wall
And he and she lie in one bed
Roll me over next to the wall."
And Duo Maxwell laid down his drum, cursed himself, turned, and kissed her before he even had a chance to see her.
He woke up the next morning in a bed upstairs to find a note on his sheet. He had to ask the innkeeper to read it to him, and it said:
"We'll sing again, I hope?
Hilde."
