Chapter 11 - The Thieves' Concert (a.k.a., The One With All The Singing)
A/N: Just so you know, the wine mentioned later, Berdruskan Dark, is a sweet Elven wine with a very HIGH alcohol content.
Also, please forgive me, there will be much singing in the latter half of this chapter. A LOT. None of the songs, however, are original. The majority is Garth Brooks, there's a Brooks & Dunn in there, Alan Jackson, Terri Clark, and Gretchen Wilson. If you don't like Garth Brooks, or any country for that matter, you might find it kind of painful. I know songs written in their entirety can be annoying, but these are meant to be funny, and some of them are only written partially. Please just humor me and enjoy!
Okay, so here it is, The One With All The Singing:
The next day Green went scouting for a ship. George, the prince of the pirates, had told her none were up for sale, but thieves were always up for bargaining. She had dragged Blue along with her. Black had given her explicit instructions not to let Blue wander off on her own too much while at the port. Green had to agree, she knew these people; grew up with these types of ruffians. In Green's eyes, Blue had lived a relatively sheltered life, and to leave her alone with a bunch of drunk, lonely pirates was virtually murder.
Green strutted down the various boardwalks, with the wind in her hair and her silver earring bouncing merrily. She inhaled the salty sea air. It was good to be back.
Suddenly something caught her eye, and she snapped her head to the left. There it was: her ship. She lengthened her stride as the wind whipped at her hair more eagerly.
"Hey, wait up!" Blue called.
Green didn't stop until she was facing the finely crafted vessel. She ran a keen eye over the body, the masts, sails. A dragon's head jutted out from the prow, jaw agape and nostrils flared. The Dragonfire.
"I always knew you had good taste," whispered a voice in her ear. Green turned to see George smiling down at her.
"How much you want for her?" Green demanded. George laughed.
"That one's my own, personal flagship, Jade," he said, "if you've forgotten. She's not for sale."
"Pity," Green remarked. "I guess that means it'll cost me extra."
George raised an eyebrow. "The Dragonfire is not for sale," he repeated.
Green smiled at him knowingly. "George," she sighed. "You and I both know that you can buy anything if the bid is high enough."
"You couldn't find enough gold if you robbed every high-roller in the entire port," George replied.
Green smiled again and pulled out a brown leather pouch. She loosened the laces and dumped the contents out into her hand. George's eyes went wide. In her hand were multiple precious gems and one extremely rare opal among a handful of gold coins.
"And there's more where that came from," Green said.
"Where did you get this?" George asked, picking up the opal and fingering it. Green grinned mischievously.
"You willing to talk now?"
George eyed the lady pirate skeptically. "Who'd you steal this from? I'm wanted by enough angry mobs of nobles as it is."
"They don't even know this port exists," Green assured him. "And as long as you don't venture inland trying to spend it you have nothing to worry about."
George gave Green back the opal. "No," he said. "One opal and some gold coins aren't going to cut it."
"And what would cut it, oh mighty Prince of Thieves?" Green demanded, returning the gems to the pouch.
George shook his head. "I'm not selling the Dragonfire."
"Two opals, a hundred gold coins, and another four hundred in gems," Green said.
"No," George asserted.
"Three opals." George shook his head again. "Come on, George. That's enough to buy two ships better than this dinghy!"
George cocked his head apprehensively.
"And a barrel of the finest Elven wine."
"What kind of wine?"
Green smiled. "Berdruskan Dark."
"Done."
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Black trudged along the shoreline, the numerous trinkets hanging from her belts clinked in the breeze along with the many weapons strapped to her back. She couldn't wait to finally get off her feet for awhile. It wouldn't be too much longer until she reached the hidden port. Hopefully Green was able to find a suitable ship. Black didn't doubt Green's abilities, she was just worried that Blue or Red, especially Red, had done something to foul things up.
When the light from the port's lanterns could be seen in the distance Black slowed to a walk. She smiled with the thought of leaving this fairy-ridden realm and going far away, across the sea. Her eyes glinted deviously as she thought of the revenge she would wreak upon the old witch doctor; the man who had cursed her for eternity, the sick, twisted, manipulator of nature.
There was one thing she did not understand, however. She was sure he knew that she was coming for him; he always had before, with that miserable scrying mechanism of his. She could sense when he was moving and when he stayed put, but it was only when he stayed in one place for a long stretch of time that she could discern exactly where he was. That was another part of his plan that backfired. He had meant for him to be able to track Black wherever she went, except he miscalculated some part of it and Black was endowed with the ability to sense his whereabouts, to an extent.
The old man was aware of his follies now, after Black had come after him several times and explained them to him. But every time she found him he had escaped her, and up 'til recently he kept constantly on the move, for the most part.
But this time the old man was playing with fire, literally.
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There was a festival of some kind in the square that night. The sounds of laughter and music floated into the bar, which was empty but for the three cloaked women.
"Please," Red whined. "I wanna go. Please, can we go?"
"We're setting sail in the morning, Red," Green said.
"So?" Red demanded. "You know you want to. Please? Please? Can't I go, at least? Pleeeeease."
Green sighed. "I guess it couldn't hurt," she said, pushing her stool back from the counter.
"You two can go, I think I'll just stay here," said Blue, not rising.
"Oh no you don't," Green said through gritted teeth. "If I gotta go you're coming too. I'm not letting you out of my sight so long as we're in Pirate's Port."
"Yippee!" Red cheered, rushing out the door like an excited two-year old.
Blue sighed, frustrated. "Why must I go? I have no interest in any thieves' party." Green ignored the water woman's protest and dragged her out the door behind her.
The square was decorated with various banners and flags depicting individual captains' colors. There was a makeshift stage placed at the west edge of the square where a group of minstrels should have been, and brightly shining lanterns hung from poles all around.
No one was out on the dance floor, probably because there was no music. Instead they were all gathered in groups, eating, drinking and joking. Many men's arms were wrapped around women's waists, their hands wandering ever so slowly downward.
Red surveyed the scene with hands on hips as Blue thought of how much she detested festivals. At least she wouldn't be forced to dance. Perhaps they had cake.
Red shook her head and 'tisk tisked.' "This is horrible!" she exclaimed. "Where's the music?"
Blue looked at Red skeptically.
"This is no festival!" Red went on. "I think this party needs a little livening up, don't you, Green?"
"Most definitely," agreed Green.
Blue shot a nervous, somewhat paranoid look at Green. They weren't going to go up there, were they?
Red began pushing her way through the crowd, Green following.
"What are you doing?" Blue hissed.
"Come on, Blue," Green said, taking hold of Blue's wrist and dragging her along behind.
"What? No!" Blue desperately tried to pry her wrist loose from Green's iron grip. "I am no minstrel! I am NOT singing!"
"Don't worry," Green assured Blue. "We did a stint as traveling troubadours a while back. You have nothing to worry about. Play an instrument, by any chance?"
"No," Blue seethed.
"Oh, no matter. There's nothing wrong with winging it."
Blue looked at Green in horror as she and Red took off their cloaks and threw them off to the side, then picked up a few instruments.
"Here," Green handed Blue a round piece of wood with numerous thin silver disks embedded all around it. "Just bang on this with your palm in time to the beat. You can sing along with the songs you know."
"What? No." Blue was becoming more panicky by the second. This was one of the last places she wanted to be.
"Don't worry," Green assured her. "These people are really too drunk to notice how good your voice is anyway."
"I'm not..." but Blue was cut off as Green turned to face the crowd along with Red.
"Can I have your attention, please?" Green called out over the festival goers. No one even so much as twitched. Green glanced at Red and the two women exchanged a wry smile.
Red readjusted the instrument hanging around her neck (think guitar), and as the wind swirled up around them, she belted out the first word in her loudest nasal wail.
"Looonng..." she began.
"Looonng..." Green echoed. Then together they sang;
"Longneck bottle! Let go of my hand!"
The crowd as a whole immediately looked up in their direction.
"Hey jukebox don't start playing that song again! 'Cause there's a girl at home who loves me. You know she won't understand. Longneck bottle! Let go of my hand!"
The people in the audience cheered and raised up their mugs. "You've got to be kidding me," Blue mumbled.
Green continued to strum her guitar while Red went on wailing the rest of the song in a twangy sort of sound.
"Hey barroom mirror on the wall, go stare at someone else!
Don't show the world, the fool I am
Just keep it to yourself!
Longneck bottle! Let go of my hand!"
"Let go!" Green chided as they lapsed into the interlude. At the neck verse the crowd cheered again as Red did a little bit of a two-step.
"Dance floor seems you're underneath my feet
Everywhere I turn!
I oughta waltz right out of them swingin' doors
But that's a step I just can't learn.
Longneck bottle!
Let go of my hand!"
The people yelled and screamed their approval, though Blue highly doubted they had understood half the song. Blue herself never understood the thieves' crazy songs much.
A few people had moved out to the dance floor, but not nearly enough in Red's mind.
"What do we hafta do to get these people dancin'?" Green demanded, reading Red's mind.
"I don't know!" Red answered. "I thought they were all drunk enough to boot scootin' boogie without any music at all!"
Red shifted quickly to a drum set that seemed to appear out of nowhere, and banged on it with exuberant enthusiasm as Green twanged her guitar.
"Out in the country
Past the city limit sign
There's a honky-tonk
Near the county line
The joint starts jumpin' every night
When the sun goes down!
They got whiskey and women (a cheer from the men in the crowd)
Music and smoke!
It's where all the cowboy folk go
To Boot Scoot an' Boogie!
I got a good job
I work hard for my money (Red winks)
When it's quittin' time
I hit the door runnin'
I fire up my pick-up truck
And let the horses run!
I go flyin' down that Highway!
To that hide-a-way
Stuck out in the woods
To do the Boot Scootin' Boogie!
Well, heel, toe
Docy doe!
Come on baby, let's go
Boot Scootin'
Oh, cadillac, blackjack
Baby meet me out back
We're gonna boogie!
Get down, turn around
Go to town!
Boot Scootin Boogie!
Bartender asks me,
Says 'son, what'll it be?'
I want a shot of that redhead yonder
Lookin' at me!"
Red threw her head back and laughed. In spite of herself, Blue felt the beginnings of a smile play at the edges of her mouth as well. This was actually kind of fun, curse them.
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Black heard them singing; the music and the voices carried along on the wind to her ears. Black shook her head. Red was the cause of it, undoubtedly. They were lucky she was in a good mood, otherwise their random concert would have caused Black's temper to flare.
"Har - riet! Won't you put her on the line, I gotta talk to the girl just one more time!"
Red was singing one of the thieves' favorites. Black had to smile. Red may be an idiot, the dark woman thought, but she's an entertaining idiot.
The streets were virtually empty when Black entered the miniature city; all the citizens attending the festival most likely. As she made her way deeper, to the heart of the port town, Red's voice grew in intensity. The increased volume was Green's gift. She was a manipulator of the wind, much as Black was a manipulator of fire. Whatever it was that Green did, she made Red's naturally loud voice come out almost deafening.
The song Red was singing as Black neared the square was not as fast paced as the previous, but it still was one of Red's favorites.
"It makes you wonder:
Who's cheatin' who?
Who's bein' true?
Who don't even care anymore?
Who's doin' right,
By someone tonight?
Who's cart is parked next door?"
Black had taught Red numerous songs during their travels together. Sometimes Black wasn't sure that was such a good idea, but when she saw Red up on stage, belting them out to a cheering crowd, it was quite amusing. Red didn't even know what half of the songs were talking about. Her favorites were mostly the ones she did understand, the ones with liquor, men, or stealing. The best were the ones when the woman steals another woman's man, or when the one man steals another man's girlfriend, so the first man goes to a bar and drinks himself stupid. Black always thought they were Red's favorites because they reminded Red of herself. It wasn't too far from the truth.
Black slipped in behind the crowd, doing her best at remaining unseen. Hers was not the best reputation in town. She leaned back against a wall of one of the surrounding buildings and watched for awhile from a slight distance.
Red sang a song entitled Big Money, about a man who came into a fortune when his rich, but risky, relatives died on the job.
"Well, now the moral of this story, boys, is don't go getting yourself killed
Be kind to your rich relatives, they might just put you in their will."
Black nodded to herself. She remembered Freddie, his older brother Tommy, and late uncle Charlie.
"It pays big money and we're all into that
It pays big money and big money's where it's at
Let me tell you something, sonny, you ought to see my bank account
It pays big money, and we're rolling in it now!"
Red's face always lit up at the last two phrases. If only Red knew the story was true.
"It pays big money, having foolish kin
It pays big money, guess I owe it all to them
Let me show you something, sonny, take a look at this bank account
It pays big money, let's all spend some of it now!"
Black could see Red laugh to herself as Green added a few lines as the music faded out.
"How much for that loaf of bread?" she asked. "Can you break a hundred dollar bill? It's all I got. A lot of 'em."
Black hadn't noticed at first, but as her eyes wandered around, she spied Blue up on stage, attempting to hide behind Red and Green. She wasn't singing, but tapping a tambourine, though reluctantly.
At the song's end, Red and Green took a break from their routine to ask requests of the audience.
"Come on!" Red called. "You gotta have one!"
Black could hear crickets.
"No one? None at all?"
Black could resist the urge no longer. She stealthily crept toward the stage, shedding her cloak, belts and weapons pack, and picked up a guitar.
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Red was breathing heavily and beads of sweat were beginning to form at her temples when she finished singing the beer song. She could think of no more songs that she knew the all the words to. Black had tons more, she knew, but Red couldn't sing them without Black being there. Thus it frustrated Red even more when the stinking pirates couldn't offer her any suggestions.
"What about that one song?" Blue whispered. "That you all sang the night in the pub in Bree? About friends in low places?"
Red shook her head quickly. "Can't do that one," she said. "That's Black's song. We can't sing that without Black."
"Why not?" Blue demanded. "Just because it's 'her' song?"
"You don't understand," Red interrupted anxiously, "Black is the low place."
Before Blue could voice her confusion she heard four solitary notes being strummed on a guitar. All three woman, and the crowd as well, turned to watch the stage steps, where the sound had appeared to come from.
The notes were repeated as a pair of leather boots, followed by a woman in travel worn breeches, stepped up the stairs.
"Blame it all on my roots," she sang, walking to the front of the stage, "I showed up in boots (she swung her leg up and planted her booted foot on a stool ), and ruined your black-tie affair."
The people in the square remained utterly silent. They were all thinking, but were not sure, of the woman's identity.
"The last one to show, the last one to know, I was the last one you thought you'd see here," she went on. "And I saw the surprise, and the fear in your eyes, as I took up this guitar and played. But, honey, I sing to you, say 'honey, we may be through, but you'll never hear me complain!"
Blue noted the few alterations in the words before Red and Green joined Black and the crowd burst into applause.
"'Cause I got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
Ad the beer chases my blues away
And I'll be okay
I'm not big on social graces
Think I'll slip on down
To the oasis
'Cause I've got friends
In low places!
Well I guess I was wrong
I just don't belong
But then, I've been there before
Everything's all right
I'll just say goodnight
And I'll show myself to the door
Hey I didn't mean
To cause a big scene
Just give me an hour and then
Well I'll be as high as that ivory tower
That you're livin' in!
'Cause I got friends in low places
Where the whiskey drowns
And the beer chases my blues away
And I'll be okay..."
As the commoners cheered and repeated the chorus several times, Blue sidled up behind Black.
"You sure took your sweet time," she hissed.
"I would say the same to you," Black replied through gritted teeth. "You were supposed to be out to sea by now."
Blue would have continued to argue, but due to their current situation, a prolonged conversation was not realistic. While Blue talked to Black, Red's often muddled brain began to turn, and suddenly she remembered another song. Just as 'Friends in Low Places' had been Black's song, this next one was hers.
"I'm a whiskey-drinking, straight-shootin' double fisted son of a gun!" Red called out, strolling along the stage. "I wear my jeans a little tight just to watch the little boys come undone! I've been waiting all week long just to have a good time. So bring on them cowboys, and their pick-up lines!" Red swayed her hips ever so slightly as she strutted, her red leather pants more than illustrating her words. There were a few shouts and a couple cat-calls from the less sober men.
Red came around again to face the people in the square as she continued.
"I'm here for the party!
And I'm not leaving 'til they throw me out
I'm gonna have a little fun
Gonna, get me some
You know I'm here!"
Red made a few more passes around the stage and Black sighed. How fitting, she thought. It was like Red's own personal anthem. The song after that was done by Black.
"I'm a red-neck woman
I ain't no high class broad
I'm just the product of my raisin'
I say 'hey y'all' and 'yee-haw!'"
And it continued in much the same fashion.
After that, the thieves began to play a song in which they all took turns singing.
Red: "She says she can't go out tonight again
Her sister's sick, she's gotta baby-sit,
Yeah, that sounds like a pretty good excuse
Well you didn't hear any of this from me,
But things aren't always what they seem
Brace yourself! This may come as a shock to you!
Girls lie too!"
The women in the audience yelled and cheered their approval as Red moved into the chorus.
Red: "We don't care how much money you make
What you drive or what you weigh
Size don't matter, anyway!"
There was a collective uncomfortable shift in weight among the men in the audience.
Blue (under force from Red): "We can't wait to hear about your round of golf
Love to see deer heads hanging on the wall..." she refused to do the last line.
All: Girls lie too!
Red: Other guys never cross our minds
We don't wonder what it might be like
How could it be any better than it is with you?
All: Girls lie too! Chorus
Black: Old blood-stained clothes turn us on
We like your friends, and we love your mom
And that's the truth
All: Girls lie too! Chorus.
Green (as song fades): No, we don't care how much hair you have. Yeah, come it over like that. Grrrrowl.
The women laughed at the uncomfortable looks on the men's faces. Red was particularly enjoying it, having thought up a considerable portion of the song herself.
The next songs were rodeo songs. Black had been a rodeo rider in earlier days, and most of these songs were true stories, but altered slightly to fit better into song; and to not make others suspicious of their ties to her.
"His eyes are cold and restless
His wounds have almost healed
She'd give half of Texas, just to change the way he feels
Well she knows his love's in Tulsa
She knows he's gonna go
Well it ain't no woman, flesh and blood
It's that damned old Rodeo."
Black had to fight to suppress rising memories.
"It's the bulls and the blood
The dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd
It's the white in his knuckles, the gold in the buckle
He'll win the next go 'round
It's boots and shafts, it's cowboy hats
It's spurs and a latigo
it's the ropes and the reins, the joy and the pain
And they call the thing Rodeo!"
As she strummed her guitar she closed her eyes and she could smell the dirt of the arena floor.
"She does her best to hold him
When his love comes to call
But his need for it controls him
And her back's against the wall
And it's so long girl, I'll see you
When it's time for him to go
You know the woman wants her cowboy
Like he wants his Rodeo!"
She could hear him pleading, 'please don't go.' But the wild horses just kept dragging her away.
"It's the bulls and the blood
The dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd
It's the white in his knuckles, the gold in the buckle
He'll win the next go 'round
It's boots and shafts, it's cowboy hats
It's spurs and a latigo
It's the ropes and the reins, the joy and the pain
And they call the thing Rodeo!
It'll drive a cowboy crazy
It'll drive him insane
And he'll sell off everything he owns
Just to pay to play the game
And a broken home and some broken bones
Is all he'll have to show
For all the years he's been chasin'
This dream they call Rodeo!
It's the bulls and the blood
The dust and mud
It's the roar of a Sunday crowd
It's the white in his knuckles, the gold in the buckle
He'll win the next go 'round
It's boots and shafts, it's cowboy hats
It's spurs and a latigo
it's the ropes and the reins, the joy and the pain
And they call the thing Rodeo!
It's the broncs and the blood
The steers and the mud
And they call the thing Rodeo!"
The crowd cheered again between songs. Black took a few moments to catch her breath and keep the memories that threatened to flood her mind at bay. Soon she became caught up again in the thrill of being on stage, the distraction from the real world it gave. She grinned as she caught Green's and Red's eyes.
"Fever," she whispered. They returned the smile.
"Well he's a got a split finger wrap and his rope pulled way too tight
He's got a lunatic smile 'cause he's really drunk deep tonight!"
The pace was much faster than the previous numbers of the evening, and Red was jumping around the stage with renewed energy, bobbing her head and strumming the guitar. The lunatic smile was also on her face as Black sang.
"He's got a fever! Fever! Fever! Fever! Hey!
Well grab a hold on anything and hold on tight!
He'll hit ya like the venom from a rattlesnake bite
We're all here, 'cause he's not all there, tonight!"
At the brief pause between verses Black did a little dancing to match Red, and as she did so she spotted the pirate king, George, standing in the shadows at the back of the crowd. Black took a breath and went on.
"He takes one last breath and time turns inside out!
The gate busts open to the world he dreams about!
He's got a fever! Fever! Fever! Fever!
Hey strap a rope onto anything 'cause he don't care
He'll even take a ride in an electric chair
We're all here, 'cause he's not all there, tonight.
He says it's really kind of simple
Keep your mind in the middle
While your butt spins 'round and 'round! (Black gyrated her hips in a few quick circles)
Take heed to the raider's preachin'
Keep lifting and reaching (Black thrust a hand up into the air)
And ridin' like there ain't no clowns!"
At the interlude all the women, excluding a disgusted Blue, jumped around the stage exuberantly, laughing all the while.
"Well he knows it might kill him, but he's got no choice
He's a different breed, with a voice down deep inside
Screamin' he was born to ride
He's got a fever! Fever! Fever! Fever! Fever!
Fever makes you crazy, 'cause it makes no sense
Like runnin' from your shadow out of self-defense
Well he won't run, and baby he can't hide
He thinks the odds a re even leavin' one hand tied
He gets so tired of hanging on so tight
I know you think he's crazy, well I think you're right!
We're all here, 'cause he's not all there, that's right!"
That should have been the end of it, but the people screamed for more, and who were they to deny the good people? So Black struck up another rodeo tune. Black realized too late, however, that this song was a mistake. It dragged with it memories that she could not hold back.
"For change I headed south across the border
For the pesos and a different horse to ride
I'd be back for the rodeo in Waco
But that was long before I saw them dark brown eyes..."
The man, the gypsy, the forbidden, stood there before her. She had been infatuated with him since the moment she saw him. He didn't speak her language, however, and she spoke little of his.
"With long black hair and English bad and broken
Her body said the words she couldn't find
As I hung on every word she left unspoken
The question started leaning on my mind..."
Black was headed to the rodeo to ride, in disguise, but ran into the gray-eyed man before arriving. She felt she had to leave, but his gaze held her to where she was, and she so much wanted to run to him. He stared at her in turn, falling for her more every second her deep brown eyes lingered on him.
"Rodeeeeoooooo-oo-ooooo or Mexico?
They both can keep a cowboy satisfied
Rodeeeeoooooo-oo-ooooo or Mexico?
The only way I know how to decide
Is just get up and ride..."
They could see the desperation and the longing in each others' eyes. So, against all that she had been raised to believe, all that she had been taught, Black cursed it all and went to him. They spoke no words. They were not needed.
"We danced all night beneath that sheet of cotton
And you just don't tell a girl like that goodbye
But the cowboy life ain't easily forgotten
Though lying there I couldn't help but wonder why..."
She had never felt so invigorated, so alive. He would kill her if he found her here, lying next to this dirty wanderer, but he was safely away on business some hundred miles away.
"Rodeeeeoooooo-oo-ooooo or Mexico?
They both can keep a cowboy satisfied
Rodeeeeoooooo-oo-ooooo or Mexico?
The only way I know how to decide
Is just get up and ride
Let me up and ride..."
To her horror, he came back early. He held a knife to her lover's throat as he glared at her and yelled. She felt extreme sorrow, pity, for the gypsy, slowly realizing what was happening, not needing to understand the words being furiously thrown.
"The morning found the answer dawning on me
As I woke up to the sharp edge of a knife
He was screaming at the woman hanging on me
Does anybody know the Spanish word for wife?"
She got a beating that night, surpassing all other whippings she had ever received before. Despite the pain, she smiled. She'd spited them all. They had said revenge was bittersweet, but Black had found it quite satisfying.
"Rodeeeeoooooo-oo-ooooo or Mexico?
They both can keep a cowboy satisfied
Rodeeeeoooooo-oo-ooooo or Mexico?
The only way I know how to decide
Is just get up and ride
Crawl on up and ride..."
A/N: Again, please forgive the length of this chapter, and the unending number of songs. I just started writing and couldn't stop. It won't happen again, probably, but you know I really can't make any promises...
Chapter 12 -
After the party had finally died down, the women returned to The Eagle's Nest for rest and bed, and in Red's case, beer. Green entered the tavern with little response from the other occupants, drunkards, merry-makers, party-ers. When Red burst through the doors, throwing them open with a loud crack, the room exploded in cheers and shouts of 'Red!' as they all raised their mugs into the air. They settled down and went back to talking excitedly to one another as Blue entered behind Red.
Then as Black appeared after the blue woman, the room went deathly silent. Each man's eyes darted anxiously toward the dark woman, her face hidden inside the inky shadows of her hood. The bar was filled with an uneasy stillness as all the patrons were suddenly struck dumb by fear. No one dared move.
"You'd think they've never seen a servant of Death before," Black whispered, barely audible even to Blue's sensitive ears.
Other than that, she ignored the mortal men's paltry fear and quickly shifted, much as a shadow would, toward the bar. After a few eternal moments, the room lapsed into quiet conversation once again.
"Servant of Death?" Blue asked. "Think highly of ourselves, do we?"
A voice from the black pit of the woman's hood answered, soft and far-away. "You're not familiar with the term 'servant,' are you?"
Beld the Barkeep came and quickly deposited a mug of ale before Blue and Black, before nervously dashing off again. Black sighed, and pulled down her hood. Taking the tankard by the handle, she took a swig of the sweet liquor. Alas, it had lost its tang and magic long ago.
Blue was about to say something, but then totally forgot it when she caught a glimpse of Black's face as she took a drink. The water woman gasped.
"What happened to your face?" she demanded. Black looked at her out of the corner of her eye as she set the mug down again. "I mean, it hasn't always been like that, has it?" Blue added, realizing how her words must have sounded. She was not helping herself.
"As long as you've known me," Black replied.
"They're appalling," Blue said.
"Gee, thanks," said Black.
"No, I meant appalling as in dreadful, not appalling as in disgusting," Blue added. "Though they are that as well."
"Stop," Black demanded. "If you dig any farther you'll fall out on the other side of the world."
"I'm sorry," Blue said meekly.
"No you're not."
"Well," Blue shrugged. Then, with a little more sympathy, "Is that why you always kept your hood up?"
Black rolled her eyes. "Yes, Blue. I've kept my face hidden from the world because I am afraid of being gawked at." Her words were dripping with sarcasm.
"I was just trying to be nice," Blue retorted, with a twinge of hurt.
Black sighed. "You know, Blue, scars and songs can tell one's life story."
Blue waited for an explanation, but it didn't seems as though one was coming. "Care to explain that?" she asked.
"No," Black answered.