Delyth’s House
ars pricked for any sound in the street outside her house, Delyth sat at her battered kitchen table shuffling a dogeared pack of playing cards. One booted foot tapped gently against the flagstones. No silk rose in her copper curls today, there was no need for tarting up in her own home- just a simple undyed linen blouse and supple brown leather trousers, easy to move in, hardwearing.
Her thoughts turned to the thugs that the witch had sent packing the previous day. It was almost sad how both the human and the wick had utterly discounted her when they attempted to coerce her young companion away because "Oh lass, yer 'usband misses ye so". They’d not been dissuaded with the other wick’s assurances that they had the wrong person, and when the human roughly grabbed them he’d soon discovered just how adept Delyth was at breaking noses.
That wasn’t all she’d broken, mind...
Currently, she was practicing a particular sharp's draw, shuffling the cards in a seemingly random fashion, but so that the third card drawn was always the Jack of Clubs.
Dealing two hands, she turned them face up and made a face. Not what she expected.
"...and agen…" the witch muttered to herself, starting to shuffle once more, glancing sidelong at her guest. Del had chosen her seat carefully, back to the door, facing the youth who sat, a miserable little bundle, in the wingbacked chair by the fire, nursing a mug of tea.
Shae was looking decidedly the worse for wear, and she had every sympathy for them, despite privately thinking them an over emotional wreck. The state they'd been in when they showed up at her door two nights hence had made up her mind that Kit needed a severe talking to.
Which Delyth had done. With a fist.
_____________
Leaning against the brickwork, Kit looked up at the shutters, pulled to but open just enough to let any sound in loud and clear. The afternoon sun caught the livid green and purple bruise circling his left cheekbone as he closed his eyes, flexing stiff and scabbing fingers before setting them to the strings. It was a jaunty tune, cheerful and hearty, but with a hard edge to it, and as his clear baritone voice joined the sound of his instrument he sent a silent prayer out.
...sweet Alioe, let this work...
"...Welcome to the harbour, child
Cold is Old Rose when the sea winds blow
A haven for the dispossessed,
Where all the pleasant little feuds do grow
Here our lovers they lie down
For the night
'Til passion fired their hearts are burning bright
So bright is the heart of my ebon-haired pearl
Bastian clear hear their laughter furl
Caught in the dark is my ebon-haired pearl
Torn apart from an innocent world
See, they need no fine wardrobe
No Hoxian silks or the whole double row
They stand so daring proud
Sleek as a kitten in the winter snow
Let no peer or prince from here
Or up on high
Meet ebon-hair until their hearts are burning bright
So bright is the heart of my ebon-haired pearl
Bastian clear hear their laughter furl
Caught in the dark is my ebon-haired pearl
Torn apart from an innocent world
Innocent our angel still
With stormdark eyes and a stare that could kill
Their brows like bows do stand
Straight in the heart, with no ring in the hand
Let no sacred fruit from here or up on high
Meet ebon-hair until their hearts are burning bright
So bright is the heart of my ebon-haired pearl
Bastian clear hear their laughter furl
Caught in the dark is my ebon-haired pearl
Torn apart from an innocent world
Caught in the dark is my ebon-haired pearl
Torn apart from an innocent world
So bright is the heart of my ebon-haired pearl…"
...meet me in the gutter, make the devil your friend...