To Live After Death

[Ira]

"Yeh gonna finish that ale, Ira?" Finn asked me with a black-toothed grin, his bushy eyebrows arching over his forehead.  There were clumps of dirt and what looked like blood caked in his thick stubble, and his horribly stained teeth had surely been turned to obsidian by some foul curse. Yet I had to smile at my own disgust. As much as it repulsed me, and as much as that face had changed over the years, I put more faith and trust into his grisly visage than anything else in my life.

But his ugly face be damned if he thought I was going to give him my ale.

"Ye bloody bet I am," I growled, hovering over my mug and shooting him a sharp glare. "You can get your own blasted ale, yeh bumblin' oaf. I can barely pay for me own as it is, ah?"

"Hoggletosh!" Finn snorted, leaning back as he finished his own drink. I watched the last of the liquid slide out of his glass. A dark, gritty brown. It had probably been ale at some point, but it looked like viscous, rancid stew with all the bits of who-knows-what after it had touched his teeth. "Yeh know the barmaids give yeh drinks fer free."

"Ha! Yeh could get free drinks too if yeh were as studly as me, eh Finnigan?" I grinned, leaning back on the bar as I crossed my arms over my chest. "And stop sayin' that, yeh? The word is 'hogwash.' Get it right, yah?"

"'Studly' me arse! Yer just womanize'em innocent waitresses and yeh gets anythin' ye be wantin'." Finn turned from me and raised his hand to wave over one of the barmaids. "If yeh had any decency, yeh'd treat these women with respect like and pay fer yer drinks."

I let my mouth hang open in the best impression of shock I could manage. "I'm not a womanizer! I just know that any woman likes to be treated like royalty, ah? And ye'd know nothing about decency if yer weren't married. Tha' Lila of yers beats good manners inter ya. With a rollin' pin, even!"

"Oh, drink yer ale, Ira." Finn flashed me an offended grin. I backed off and quite happily drank my ale. I really should have kept in mind that he genuinely disapproved of me exercising my ability to play any woman like a lute. Not that I was especially proud of that myself. Well, no, I rather enjoyed it. I was going somewhere with this...

"By the Avatar, Ira, back again?" A voice from behind me. I grinned. Almost any woman.

"Well o’course, Elsa. I cannae stand to go a day without seein’ yer perfect porcelain face" I tipped my glass against my lips again and took another generous drink. By all accounts I should have been prepared for came next. Through the blur of the bottom of my mug, I saw a slender hand reach down and push the mug further upward. I nearly tipped over in my stool trying to avoid the resulting downpour of the last of my ale. "Hey! HEY!"

"Evening, Ira," Elsa said with a sweet voice. I spun around in my stool and shot the angriest look I could muster at the brunette across the bar. Her vibrant green eyes accosted me with amusement, her thick dark hair pinned back with perfect neatness. She wasn't bad looking at all. But what I liked most about her was the fire. She had been one of the few women that had been immune to my charms. Well, outwardly anyway. "My, you're sopping wet. Go outside next time the urge strikes you, hm?"

"Yer a regular comedian, Elsa," I grumbled, trying vainly to brush away the ale that had already soaked into my trousers. "Seems I'm out of ale. Yeh wanna be a darlin' and fetch me another? Yer pretty eyes keep me singin’, but it doesn't do much for me thirst, ah?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows. "There a hidden message in that?"

"Eh wot? Hidden message? I just mean I cannae be drinkin' yer eyeballs." I looked sadly at my empty mug. "I'm quite satisfied lookin' at'em, ya? How'bout that ale?"

"Certainly. Ten crowns." Elsa smiled cruelly.

"Ten bloody crowns?! That be twice wot everyone else pays!" I looked at Finn in alarm. He returned a smug half-smile. His eyes were narrow. I studied them for a moment, trying to figure out what he was telling me. "Come on, lass, be a doll. I'll pay wotevah you like as long as it's you gettin' the ale. Yeh know I love watchin' yer as yeh walk over there ter get it for me."

Elsa turned away. I knew she was blushing. Nevertheless, she hurried away with my empty mug. I turned to Finn to return his smile, but now he was glowering at me. "What?"

"You ain't dumb, Ira, dun pretend teh be innocent." Finn crossed his arms. "You know she likes you. Yeh shouldn't tease'er like that."

I grimaced and moved my eyes downward. How interesting the floorboards could be while trying to avoid confrontation. "Yeh, yeh, I know... It'd hurt'er worse if I acted like an insensitive arse and laid on the charm to every other barmaid, though."

"Well stop flirtin' with women yeh have no intention of gittin' with." I glanced back up at Finn. He had to be nearly twice my age. He had worked on my father's farm while I was growing up, so I'd known him all my life. He’d always been someone I looked up to. "Yeh dun treat'em loik royalty, yeh treat'em loik playthings. Use'em to boost yer ego."

"I don't." I did. I moved my eyes again. Hello, bartop.

"Gotta mind others' feelin's, yeh know? Can't make friends if yeh treat'em like objects." Finn glanced sideways. Elsa was returning, two mugs of ale in her arms. I sank back further into the corner of the bar where I sat, clearing my throat. I knew Finnigan was onto something, but damn if it wasn't annoying as hell that he was right.

"Someone's asking for you, Ira," Elsa said with a flat tone as she handed us our mugs. I glanced up at her and saw concern. "She looks buggered as hell. Kill someone's brother or something?"

"Not tha’ I recall." I slid out of my stool trying to see around the fairly sized crowd of people gathered at the bar, looking for anything out of the ordinary. The tables on the far walls were filled with their trademark shady characters exchanging words about some conspiracy or the other. The tavern cat, crouched in a far corner, was chewing on a half-eaten rat he'd killed yesterday. Several people sat alone in the tables near the bar. Drifters and lonely sods, mostly.

But, completely out of place with her cheeks flushed red and sleek with tears, there was a blonde woman standing near the tavern door way. She cradled a bundled blanket arms. I swallowed hard. Her face was vaguely familiar.

"Uh... not the one with the babe?" I shot a nervous look at Elsa.

"Mmmhm," she nodded, smirking. "Do something you weren't supposed to, Ira?"

"Ech... I might've..."

Finn looked at me, quite puzzled. I glanced back at him. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

"I'll tell you later, Finny. I'll er... I'll be back." I moved along the bar, watching the woman. She moved a bit of the blanket aside and kissed her baby's forehead. Then she looked up at me. The anger in her eyes struck me like a force, and more and more it felt like I was walking in molasses.

"Ira Sanguistat," she grunted by the time I reached her. I offered a precarious smile. Her glare sharpened. Again I turned down to the floorboards, pretending to assume this wasn’t going to be about what she had in her arms. She looked down at my soaking trousers and gave me a scrutinizing look. I tried to ignore the humiliation that built in my chest. "I knew I'd find you here, drinking your life away like nothing matters."

"Evenin'... uh..." What was her name again...

"Norma!" Ah, that was it. "It's Norma, you thoughtless arse! You don't even remember my name!"

I winced. She was talking pretty loudly. I didn't look, but I could almost hear the turning of heads. "Wot's this about?"

Norma pushed the bundle of blankets into my chest. I staggered backward in surprise, but gently closed my arms around it, worried she'd drop it. I looked down at the child. I looked at Norma. My head had already made the connection, but I refused quite adamantly to accept it. Not until she said it. "What's with the baby?"

"Her name is Amber," Norma replied, her voice much softer. She reached forward and moved aside the blanket, so I could get a better look of the baby’s face. She couldn't have been any more than a week old. Her skin was still flushed and dark. Her hair was as black as mine. "My husband has light hair. All of my other children have light hair"

"What..." I looked up at the blonde, starting to feel dizzy. Guilt and shock and alcohol all at once was not good for my ability to stand. "I don't understand..."

"Like hell you don't, Ira,” she spat, quelling another sob. Her quaking chest sent a dizzying wave through my body that threatened my balance. “I already have three other children. My husband's left all of us, claiming none of the children are his. This is all your fault!" I cringed. Guilt. Oh lord the guilt. My fault?

"Now hey..." I narrowed my eyes. I squeezed the baby tighter to me, which felt quite pleasant until I realized what I was doing. "If I remember correctly, and that's what I CAN remember, yeh were as drunk as I was that night. If yeh were married, why would…"

"Please, Ira." She couldn't hold back the sobbing now. Ack. Sweet Avatar, stop it. I couldn’t bear seeing women cry. "She is your daughter. I can't take care of her. I can barely afford food for the four of us, now that Jeffery has left. She belongs to you and I can't handle another child. You live alone, don't you? Take her, please. She’d starve if I tried to keep her. I can’t—"

"Okay!" I shouted, a little louder than I'd meant to. I felt a lump in my throat. Tried to swallow it. "All right, yeh? I wasn't gonna say no to somethin’like this, ah. Ye dun need to beg. Please, please stop." I closed my eyes and drew in a breath. Bloody fire in hell. I exhaled. I looked at the baby again. Ye gods, this came at me from out of nowhere. What was I supposed to do with her? Me? Taking care of a kid? "I just didn't... I mean... we only... how can..." I didn't even know what I was trying to say.

I caught a better look of Amber's face. She... she sort of looked like me. My god, she looked like me. The shape of her ears. The dark hair. She made soft little sounds whenever she turned her head.

"We'll be in touch, Ira," Norma whispered. She turned around and left the tavern. Part of me knew when she walked out that I’d never hear from her again.

I don't quite remember walking back to my stool, but suddenly Elsa and Finn were trying to get a peek of the bundle in my arms. Was I really holding this thing? Oh lord...

"What's with the baby?" Elsa asked, leaning over the bar. Finn watched me warily. “Babysitting?”

"Uh... evidently, I'm a father." Somehow I managed to keep my voice level.

"What?!" Elsa cried, her eyes widening.

"What?!" Finn gaped at me like I'd just peeled off my face. "But I thought you were—"

"I am!" I said too quickly. "I am, ah. But uh... I were pretty drunk tha' night..."

"Wait, what is he?" I didn't even glance at Elsa.

"Nothin'." Finn said. He didn't look at her either.

"No, tell me!"

"It's nothin'."

Goddamn, she looked like me. I looked at Finn. For some reason, he smiled. I smiled too. Why was I smiling? "Elsa, Finn... this is my daughter Amber."

[To be continued.]

[Ira]

"Is it really right to have her in here?" Elsa asked with a grimace, though her eyes glittered with affection as she gazed over the baby Amber. I managed a brief grimace and followed her eyes to my daughter. Heh. My daughter. The half-smile appeared on my face before I could stop it. Amber looked back up at me with those bright, quizzical blue eyes. My half-smile turned to a grin. “Morally, I mean. A baby in a tavern?”

"She's got me eyes, I think, ya," I chuckled, trying to forget that Elsa had said anything. Balancing her in my lap properly, I reached over for my mug. Looking up, I caught a glance of Finn. There was a cold flame in his eyes. I winced. I knew what he was thinking. Attempting to ignore it, I tried to wash away my frustration with a healthy sip of my drink.

It didn’t work.

"Yeh 'ave brown eyes, Ira," Finn said lowly. “Hers be blue.”

I gritted my teeth, and shot a brief glare at him. But again I was burned by his gaze and I quickly looked away. It was painful to see his old familiar face glowering at me. I'd known him too long to be able to shrug off his disapproval.

Damn him. And Elsa. Did they have to be so condescending? A gaggle of not-so-appropriate words were poised on the end my tongue, waiting to be spat out. But despite the resentment, I would have felt too hypocritical to say anything. This constant guilt was all too familiar, and I had just about gotten used to it.

"Ira, answer me," Elsa frowned. I winced. Her eyes repelled mine as well, so again I lowered them, mindlessly studying the collar of her shirt. I didn't realize what I was doing until she covered her chest and scowled. I feigned guilt and looked off toward the floorboards. Good ole friends. "I don't think this is really the appropriate environment for Amber. I love seeing her, really, but this isn't a place for children."

"Well how else am I surposed ta drink, eh?" I shot back without looking up. I knew the answer, but my conscience was drowning in ale and unable to tell me I was wrong. "I can never foind anyone teh watch'er, an' I can't quite stay home all the time with'er, eh..."

Elsa frowned, genuine concern in her eyes. I forced a smile. At least she was more pleasant than Finn. "You're not really in a condition to watch over her when you're drunk as a sailor. I mean you're not a mean drunk, but you do tend to get careless..."

"I do n... er..." Elsa was looking at Amber. Oh right. That’s what she meant. All right, so maybe I could be little careless once in a while if I drank a bit too much. Maybe. "What do ye expect me ta do? Stop drinkin'? Ha!"

"Maybe ye should, Ira," Finnigan said, ironically sucking on a bottle of liquor immediately after. Bah! What a hypocrite! And how could he possibly understand my situation if he’d never had a kid of his own, eh?

I knew perfectly well that my anger toward him was completely unjustified, but it was only that anger that gave me the courage to look him in the eye.

"That's a stupid idea, Finnigan!" I declared. Amber made a cute gurgling noise that stole too much of my anger away. I could no longer keep my eyes on my friend. "It's all I do, ya! Bu' lately all I come here fer now is the company, ah? Cos sod it if I can bloody afford any drinks feedin' this bottomless pit!"

"She ain't a bottomless pit, man, she's yer daughter!" Finn growled, so loudly that it startled me and I shrank back. Gruff man as he was, he could look damn frightening if he wanted to. Those black teeth were clenched and his pock-marked, hairy face was flushed read. I moved my hand over the side of Amber's face, trying to look like I was stroking her head, but was really trying to shield her from Finn. "How old are ye now, huh? Seventeen? Eighteen?"

"Nineteen in a month, ya."

"Yer not even twenty yet and yeh got a little girl of yer own! Yeh know how old I am? Thirty-five. I ain't got a single kid. Dunno why. We've been tryin' fer years an—"

"Eech," I cut in against all my moral reasoning, trying to be funny. "Dun need to hear about yer 'trying,' eh ya? Spare meh the grisly details."

"Shut up, Ira!" Finn slammed down his bottle. The bottom cracked, and Elsa jumped. My eyes were still on the floor. "What yeh have there is a bleedin' miracle! And ye got it by bloody accident! And yer mistreatin' her. Yeh don't take her out to pubs and taverns while you get pissed, yeh stay at home and watch her and nurture her and take care of ‘er."

"Would you stop drinking if Lila popped out a goddamn baby?" I shot back, narrowing my eyes. Amber was starting to cry.

"In a SECOND!" Finn sank back in his chair and turned away, back toward the bar, slumping over his bottle.

I kept stroking Amber's face, feeling like I'd just been thrown off a horse - stunned to the point of paralyzation and in a great deal of pain. You'd have to add in all of the moral conflict of course to replace the broken bones. And my two closest friends telling me what I've been trying to argue against mentally for the last month and a half, but otherwise it felt just like that horse metaphor.

I hadn't heard a word from... from... Nora? Amber's mother. Hell, for all I knew the baby wasn't even mine and she didn't have three kids and a husband who left. But as the thought occurred to me, a strong pressure in my chest told me immediately that I was trying to kid myself.

The night I first saw Amber, I didn't realize how much it would change my life. I was used to spending every night drinking and meeting with Elsa and Finn. And every day sleeping until sunset. But suddenly I'm a father and everything is halted. I was too young for this, wasn't I? I hadn't been at all prepared. Would Finn really stop drinking if he became a father? Drinking was as much a way of life for him as it was for me. Eh, no... ugly as he was, Finn would never say anything he didn't mean.

How could this have happened to me?

"Think I'll go home," I muttered, shifting Amber against my chest as I stood up. "Eh Finn, think I can bum some o'yer moonshine?" Finn didn't look up. Stubborn bugger. "Fine! It tastes like swamp water anyway!" Of course I still had every intention to stop by his cottage and ask Lila for a few bottles. I looked up at Elsa. She half-smiled suddenly. I smiled back. "I'll be thinkin' o’the lantern light shinin’ in yer pretty hair while I'm gone, ah? And some o'yer other good parts too, roit?"

She suddenly scowled. I grinned. "Bugger off, you pissant. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Dunno ‘bout tha’,” I looked at Finn. "If I'm gonna be harassed by me so-called friends, I might as well stay home and drink. Say g'bye, Amber." I tried to pry one of her tiny hands off my shirt to wave it at Elsa, but the moment it left the fabric, she started to sob. "Blimey. Er... Amber sends her best wishes, ah?" I added another smile.

This was about the time I figured things would start getting better. What's better than a stay-at-home dad, right? Feh.

I didn't know a goddamn thing about being a father. After this point, everything just got worse.

[To be continued.]

[Ira]

I was finishing off the last of what alcohol I had. Amber was in my arms, restless and whimpering as I tipped the bottle and drank the last of what was left inside. I was propped against some dilapidated bundle of an old quilt filled with insect-chewed holes that was probably more alive than dead. I let my head drop back as the bottle slipped from my hands and rolled over the wooden floor. I listened to the chink against the hard surface until it stopped.

I felt dead inside. I could remember that I was jubilant and playful before I had a daughter, but I couldn’t recall ever feeling like that. I hadn’t seen Elsa or Finn for several weeks. I was certain they were fine without me. I wondered if they assumed I was being a responsible, caring father. And it was true that I loved that little girl to death beyond all my understanding, but I certainly couldn’t be considered responsible. I thought everything beyond the point I first saw her would come naturally, but it’d been months and I still had no bloody idea what to do with her.

She cried a lot. Hungry or something. I could barely afford enough food for her, let alone myself. Once in a while I’d catch my reflection in a window or a puddle of water, and I wouldn’t recognize what I saw. I hadn’t bothered to shave for several weeks, and whether or not it was a contrast of my light skin and my dark hair, I had never seen a face so white. My clothes were loose on me, and I was sure I’d lost a considerable amount of weight.

I closed my eyes. When did this happen? One night of fun leading to this? I never thought I was capable of feeling such misery. I had never cared much for myself, sure, but that didn’t mean I was never optimistic. I…

Amber had gone limp. Fallen asleep. I couldn’t help but smile sadly at her. With some effort, I managed to stand up, wobbling for a few moments while the dizziness in my head churned and passed. Then I walked across my shack to lay her in my bed. It wasn’t a long walk. My one-room shack with light showing through the cracks in the poorly constructed wooden walls wasn’t exactly classy, but it served its purpose.

Carefully I lowered her onto the stained and tattered mattress.

I narrowed my eyes. Something was wrong here. She was still limp. She hung from my arms like a lifeless doll.

“Amber?”

She didn’t respond. Didn’t move. Didn’t whimper.

I lifted her up again. She should have stirred by now.

“Amber.”

She didn’t move. Not one bit. My chest ached with dread. I couldn’t blink.

“Amber! Sweetheart…”

I brought her to close to me and cradled her in one arm. I pressed my hand to her chest, her belly. A shaky sigh of relief left my lungs as I felt her breathing. But the dread hadn’t left.

I’d fed her. I had. Just this morning, I fed her. Didn’t I? I gave her water to drink. I’d done everything I was supposed to do? Right? Had I missed something? I didn’t know. Why wasn’t she moving?!

I bent down and grabbed one of the blankets off my bed, quickly wrapping my daughter in to keep her warm. I strode across my shack and slammed open the door. I was met with brief spots of sun and warm shade – the village in the forest that was Yew. The sunlight poured through the spaces between the trees. I found no comfort in the picturesque scenery. I didn’t notice.

The road was up ahead. It led to the town square.

[Ira]

“You look terrible, Ira,” Elsa whispered. My head was in one hand, firmly gripping the fringe of my hair. I hadn’t bothered to tie it back today. As I usually did. As I did every day since it was long enough to tie back. “I didn’t even recognize you when you came in.”

“Thanks.” My voice was dry and rough, unfamiliar to me. It was difficult even to push speech past my teeth. My throat was raw. My eyes burned, half open and unfocused. The word miserable couldn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling.

“Let me get you some ale, all right?” Her voice was soft and concerned. I admit it was a comfort. I didn’t expect anyone to sympathize with me. It was my fault after all. I don’t know what I did for Amber to become sick. But there was so much more that I could have done to keep her well. Wasn’t there? “It’s on me.”

“Sure.”

A mug slid across the counter. I let my hand drop from my head as I looked up at it. Mustering up what dying effort I had, I took it and helped myself to a generous swig.

“Ira, you’re really starting to worry me. The way you look… where is Amber?”

I cringed as a spasm traveled through my body. I shakily lifted my mug and washed it away. “They said they were gonna keep’er fer the night.”

“They?”

“The healers.”

“Oh Avatar… what happened? Is she all right?”

“Don’t know, ah…” I looked up at Elsa, and for a moment, the pain was somewhat subdued. I had never seen her look at me that way, or anyone. Her eyebrows were screwed together, her eyes worrying more that I’d ever seen since I met Amber’s mother. She chewed on her bottom lip. Was she really that concerned for me? I’d forgotten. She had an eye for me, back before. That’s right. “She’s sick, eh. Dun know what happened, she just wouldn’t wake up, ya? Would’n move er make noises er nothin’. Took’er to the healers.”

“Will she be okay?”

I tightened my grip on the mug and looked down. Some sort of heat seized my chest. I growled, “I don’t know. They wouldn’t let meh stay there.”

“I would have fought them tooth and nail, if I were you.”

I shot her a glare. What did she think she was trying to accomplish with that remark? It ground up my insides, but as hard as I tried, I couldn’t hold it against her. “They’re doin’ what’s best for her, ah? I ain’t gonna throw a fuss ‘f I don’t know wot the hell I’m doin’. Dun be bloody tellin’ me wot I shoulda done.”

“All right, I’m sorry.” Elsa let out a deep sigh. I looked up at her again. There were other patrons asking for her service, but she ignored them. The place wasn’t very busy this afternoon, but she shouldn’t have been wasting all of that attention on me. “It hurts me to see you like this. I hope she pulls through, but I’m just as worried about you. You look half dead, and deathly skinny. Someone could mistake you for being twice your age.”

“’M a terrible father.” The words came out of my mouth before I knew I was saying them. I took another drink. “I’ve been feeding her as much as I can afford, ya? She dun eat much, but she doesn’t stay bloody full. I can’t get time to get gold fer meself or get me ale er… an’ me money-getting techniques been lackin’… ain’t spry er quick enough to look imposin’.”

“That’s awful,” Elsa said quickly. “But keep your voice down. There’s a pair of guardsmen in the corner. Do you want to be arrested?”

“So I’m a bleedin’ thief; I belon’ in jail fer much more’n that, ya.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ira!” I looked at her eyes again. Her concern was intoxicating. “You’re trying, aren’t you! It can’t be your fault she got sick, you’ve done your best! It’s hard to raise a child on your own—”

I slammed down the mug and shot to my feet. “No, I haven’t!” The bar stool fell over onto the floor with a loud thud. “I could be doin’ so much more, but I dun get off me arse to make an honest livin’, and it dun help that I ain’t go’ a lick o’ skill to do anythin’ useful! I haven’t eaten fer two days, I can’t think… I…”

My knees buckled, and had I not clung to the bartop, I would have surely collapsed. “I dun know wot I’m doin’, ah…”

Elsa took one of my hands into hers. Her skin was amazingly soft and warm against my rough, dry fingers. But I didn’t look up. I wished she would have let go. “Look, Ira… if you need help raising her… I could maybe… I could take care of her with you. You could stay with me at my house, and we could raise her together…”

I pulled my hand away. “No, Elsa.” I managed to find my balance again, and stooped to pick up my chair. “I appreciate the offer, realleh, but I need to figure this out on me own.” I had no confidence in my words, but convincing myself of another lie wasn’t what I was trying to do.

”Ira, I really care about you,” she whimpered. I closed my eyes. “I have for a long time.” God no, she had to bring this up. Why now? I knew it was coming for a long time, but I could have handled it more smoothly if I could manage to get my wits in order. I didn’t want to see her face when I told her I didn’t feel the same way. “I don’t want you to have to face this hardship alone…”

“I know, but eh… Elsa, I…” What to say? “I jus’… Yer a sweet girl, ya? Yeh deserve better’n me.” That should work.

Oh, right. That never works. What the hell had I expected her to say? “Okay, you’re probably right?”

“I’ve never wanted anyone else.” Her voice was quivering. She was really coming out with this completely, wasn’t she? She was putting herself out on the ledge after all this time. At the worst possible time. “I could help you with Amber, we could all make it work.”

“You dun’ understand.” I looked up at her. There was a tear. My chest heaved. Oh Avatar, why now? I couldn’t stand to see the look of rejection in her soft, waiting eyes. I should have said yes. I could go along with it, couldn’t I? I stood everything to gain with this deal. “I care about yeh, aye? Jus’… not in the way I think yer implyin’…”

Elsa’s eyes glistened with tears as she stared at me for several moments. She nodded, covering her mouth with one hand and stood back, her face to the floor. The rejection had really hurt her. I grimaced. Stop crying. Oh please. I reached across the bar to touch her, to do something. I couldn’t stand to see any woman cry. There was nothing so sad. She let me put my fingers on her arm.

“It ain’t you at all, Elsa, I swear, yer wonderful,” I cooed, trying to sound comforting. I wanted her to pull her arm away, so that she would be the one rejecting me. I wanted to share what she was feeling, take the burden. “I know that sounds bland, ya, but yeh see, ah… I don’t, er… Girls an’ me dun… ah… I don’t tell people often but er… I’m… different.”

She looked at me with a new expression. Not sympathy or rejection. It was confusion. “What do you mean, different?”

“Ah…” I took my hand away and stepped back – staggered when I momentarily lost my balance. “I dun… er… see girls the way most fellows do, ah…? I prefer the other… gender when it comes to… er…” I didn’t know how much more forthcoming I could be without saying it outright. I didn't at all like the connotations that all the labels held.

Her shock intensified. Her tear stained face tore into me in ways I couldn’t describe. “What…? You mean you're...?"

I nodded. My cheeks were burning. I hated having to admit this to others if they weren't, uh, going to be involved somehow.

"But... how can you be? The way you treat women all of the time!”

I was reeling in pain. Guilt and humiliation had gutted me through the chest. Felt like someone was twisting the blade. “Tha’s just somethin’ I do, ah?” Oh, yes, that sounded great. I flatter sweet young girls for my own entertainment. Still, I never put a whole lot of thought in what I did. Did that border on sadism?

“But that woman! Amber’s mother!”

“Tha’ were a long time ago, er… I was really deep in my drink tha’ night, eh.” My thoughts moved back to my daughter. God, she wouldn’t move. Not at all. “Her mother wasn’t the onleh one involved tha’ night… were a bit of a party… er…” I never bothered wondering what kind of mother would be involved in that sort of thing. Never did I feel I had the right to truly pass judgment on anyone.

“I don’t believe it,” Elsa grunted. I couldn’t look at her. “You can’t come up and say you’re not interested, so you make up that poor excuse. That’s pathetic, Ira. I didn’t think you were like th—”

“Fer Avatar’s sake, Elsa, I ain’t lyin’! Finn’s the onleh one I ever talked to about it, ah? Yeh can ask him if ye don’t believe me! Yeh know he wouldn’t lie to yer. I dun spread that kinna thin’ around! Men’ve been…” I glanced over at the two guardsmen, and lowered my voice. “Men’ve been burned fer thin’s like tha’…” The guardsmen of Yew had never been particularly tolerant, or forgiving. Besides saving face, I’d been particularly concerned about the treatment I might receive from them, or others, if I was open about that sort of thing. “Where is Finn, anyway, eh?”

“You could have told me… didn’t you think you could trust me?” Elsa harshly wiped the tears from her face. The guilt eased up. I could breathe again. You’re an idiot, Ira Sanguistat. But at least she was angry. She may have been hurting, but at least she could blame me, and not torture herself. “We’ve been friends for years, Ira! You could have done the courtesy of saving me the humiliation!”

“I told yer yeh deserve better,” I murmured. I reached for my mug again and drowned myself in the golden ale. It ran down both sides of my chin. I wiped it off as I set the mug down. “Thanks fer the ale, eh… please, ferget about me. I ain’t worth yer time.”

“Ira, wait.”

She said something, but I can’t remember what. My head was pounding as I drew away from the bar, making my way toward the door. I had almost made it out, too, if I hadn’t ran into the large man that was standing in the entrance.

“Sorreh,” I mumbled, trying to get past him, my eyes on the floor. But he grabbed both of my arms and held me still. Bleeding Avatar, just let me out of this place.

“Ira?”

Shock grabbed me by the heart as I felt my eyes widen. That gravelly, weary tone. I knew it so damn well. Finn’s voice. For a moment, I tried to convince myself I was imagining things. But that was difficult to do when he was holding me in front of him. I couldn’t decide whether I was comforted by his presence or shamed by it.

“Good god, man,” Finn whispered in a shaky voice. “What in the hell happened to you?”

“Please, Finnigan,” I whimpered. “I jus’ wanna get out of here.”

“Yeh think I’d let yeh walk away from me lookin’ like yeh were half eaten by a reaper?”

I looked up at him weakly, and saw the same concern Elsa had shown before I hurt her. “Was sure yeh hated me, eh.”

“I’ve known yeh since yer were a boy,” Finn smiled forcefully. “Yeh need a little sun, let’s take yer outside.”

Finnigan…

[Raiden Morana]

This is great, keep it coming

Some good characters.

[Ira]

“Got yerself into a real mess, didn’t yeh Ira,” Finn said as he stood next to me, leaning against the side of the tavern with his arms crossed over his chest. I sat on the ground propped up against the same wall, chewing greedily on a piece of jerky he’d given me. I can’t remember ever tasting something so delicious. It was difficult not to bite my salty fingers. “Elsa will be fine though, if yeh give her some time.”

“I have trouble standin’,” I muttered in between bites. There were no trees near the tavern, so the bright sun shown on me directly. It felt warm, but the light stung my eyes and I didn’t like it. The road into the tavern trailed off into the forest, where rays of light shown through the translucent green leaves and illuminated the brown, decaying plant matter on the forest floor. It was a picturesque scene that I’d long grown used to. “I ain’t a vereh good thief anymore. Ain’t as fast as I used to be. Me head… I can barely think.”

”Yeh’ve never taken vereh good care o’yerself. I can’t understand tha’. Why not eh?” I felt Finn look down at me. “Why don’t yeh care about yerself?”

I wasn’t sure how to answer that, at first. I tried for several moments to formulate an answer, but I couldn’t think of anything. “I don’t know.”

“Yer gonna end up dyin’ at this rate,” Finn said lowly; it almost sounded like a threat. “’Ave yeh seen yerself lately? Yer a bleedin’ skeleton.”

“Wot’s it matter, ah,” I replied grimly. I didn’t really want to talk about this. I hated talking about myself. I’d never accomplished anything worth mentioning. Drinking, night parties, that’s all that existed of me. I was nothing. “The world’d move on, eh? It ain’t like anyone needs me.”

”Amber needs you.”

I clenched my teeth. I knew he’d say that. Bloody oaf always made too much sense. I wanted to resent him for it, but in some deep layer of myself, I was grateful.

“I ain’t no good fer her,” I snorted bitterly. “Look wot happened to her in me care, ah? She be sick and I dun even know if she’ll make it. She’d be better off in someone else’s care.”

”Don’t be stupid, Ira,” Finn growled. “Yer bein’ a selfish twit. Yeh’ve always been bloody selfish, inconsiderate and thoughtless. Until now it ain’t mattered cos the onleh person yeh’ve had to worry about was yerself.”

I wanted to retort, but I couldn’t. I was too tired for those words to hurt, anyway.

“I know tha’ yer a good person. That inconsiderate teenager ain’t the real you.” Finn grunted. He was talking an awful lot and he probably expected me to look at him. Ha! Dream on yeh fat goof.

“Yeh have an extremely poor work ethic,” he continued. “Even at yer dad’s farm yeh never did help’im out much.” I heard a smile on Finn’s voice as he spoke. “But yer father wuz easy on yeh. ‘E was a good man at heart, an’ a hard worker, and I know the nut hasn’t fallen far from the tree. Yeh ‘ave that potential in yeh.”

“Don’t yeh mean the apple?” I glanced up at him. I was taken aback by his expression. He wore a warm smile as he looked down at me. In his eyes was this caring, paternal affection. I quickly looked away. I could take the angry, intimidating Finnigan, but the whole emotional, mushy fathery thing was just downright terrifying.

“Yer far more of a nut than an apple,” Finn grinned. I rolled my eyes, but a I felt a small smile tug at my lips. “Yer wrong though. Amber needs to be with you. There ain’t no one better for her.”

”How yeh figure. I’ve nearly killed’er so far.” Ack. Those words hurt me more than I expected. I winced, finishing off the last of my jerky, and rested my head back against the tavern wall. I squinted, because the sun shown directly on my face now, but I stared up at the sky. I watched a cloud slowly roll across the blue expanse, crawling from the cover of the trees. “Per’aps I should leave’er there at the healers. They know wot to do with’er more than I do.”

”And she’ll go to some crummy, poor orphanage full of disease and rats,” Finn retorted in an angry tone. “If she didn’t die there, she’d grow up wonderin’ why her father abandoned her.”

I grimaced. “Well…” I paused. It was difficult to push out my next words, but I had thought about them more than once. “Wot about you? Yeh and Lila’ve always wanted a baby, haven’t yeh? Yer far more prepared and capable of raisin’ a kid. Ye’d love Amber like she wuz yer own, I’m sure.”

My friend made a noise that I can only describe as a growl. ”Yeh dun understand, do yeh Ira? Stand up.”

Finnigan reached down and grabbed the neck of my shirt, then pulled me upright as I scrambled to get on my feet. He didn’t let go of my shirt after I stood up, looking me in the eye. I looked away, unable to keep his gaze. “Yer the only thin’ in the world she’s got. Yer her father, and no one’s capable of givin’ her the same kinda love that you can. She’s yer flesh and blood, and the only family ye have in the world. It’s yer Avatar-given duty to protect and care for her.”

I narrowed my eyes. His words were soothing in a way, but they also sent through me a wave of anger. Anger at myself, for being so bloody incapable of doing what I had to do. Of not being as good a man as my father was.

“I’ve tried, Finn,” I said harshly. I felt guilty saying that. It felt like a lie. “I’m a bloomin’ incompetent good-fer-nothin’. I can’t care for her. I do love her, but I’ll just hurt’er again!”

Finn yanked my shirt suddenly, throwing me against the side of the tavern. A sharp pain stung my shoulder and traveled across my back, and I cried out in a mixture of surprise and pain. I would have slid back to the ground if he wasn’t still holding onto my shirt. He pressed me back against the wall and stood in front of me, large and threatening like some big, angry bear.

”Yeh ain’t tried nothin’ yet, yeh bleedin’ moron!” Finn yelled, his foul breath assaulting my nostrils. “Yeh haven’t made any effort at all to change yer life to accommodate for yer daughter. Yer still tryin’ to get by with stealin’ other people’s gold, and yer still drinkin’ alcohol like it’s water. You need to make some serious changes in yer life, and I know yeh can do it if you just try.”

My breath left me and I suddenly felt weaker. ”I can’t…”

”STOP that!” Finn pulled me forward and slammed me back into the wall again.

“Nngh!” You stop it, damn it!

”Yer the closest thin’ to a son I’ve ever had!” Finn grimaced, and for the first time I could see that he was trying to suppress some deeper feeling that he didn’t want to show. “I can’t let yeh continue to kill yerself like this. And I don’t want to see yeh lose Amber.” He paused to grimace and draw a breath. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “Bloody hell Ira, we’ve been friends for Avatar knows how long. Why… why didn’t yeh ask me for help?”

”I… eh…” I thought he would have laughed at me. But as I thought about saying it, I realized how stupid that sounded.

“Yeh need to commit yerself to yer daughter. She’s the best thin’ that’ll ever happen to yeh and you need to change.” Finn let go of my shirt and stepped back. Well good thing! I had been suffocating. His breath smelled like coal and rot. “Yeh need to work an honest job and get some steady money comin’ in. It’ll be difficult for yeh, but yer a smart man and if yeh just put some effort in, I know yeh’ll do fine.”

A job? I certainly didn’t like the sound of that. “Who in their right mind’d hire me, eh.”

”I need a hand at me smithy.” Finn watched me intently. “I’ll hire ya. Lila c’n watch Amber while yer workin’. She’d love to have a li’l girl to dote on.”

It sounded too easy. The thought was just too unreal for me to grasp. “Work for you?”

”Aye, but I got conditions.” His expression remained stern while I grimaced. “No more stealin’, and no more drinkin’.”

No more drinking? I felt my eyes widen.

“Ever. Yer quittin’ right now.”

…Ever?

“But…” That was too much to ask!

”If I ever catch you drinking, or see that yer drunk, yer fired.” Finn glowered at me darkly. “Dun make me do tha’, Ira.”

Instantly I began thinking of ways I could get away with drinking. He couldn’t watch me at home. With some money I could buy my own alcohol and he’d never know.

But I wouldn’t be spending that money on Amber. I gritted my teeth as, for the first time I could remember, my conscience began to win over my own desires. This wasn’t just about staying sober to keep a job. This was about making those damn changes Finn was talking about so I could take care of Amber. I would never be guilt free unless I stopped the drinking and the parties and the stealing completely.

By Avatar, I wasn’t really thinking this, was I?

“I don’t know if I can do that, Finn, eh.”

”I’ll help yeh, no worries.” Finn smiled suddenly. “Yeh look a mite scared at the idea. It’ll be easier to grasp once you’ve eaten a little more.”

I perked up. “Yeh have more jerky?”

”Even better,” Finn said as his smile turned into a grin. “Lilah’s been makin’ a roast all day. ‘Ave some dinner with us and we’ll talk about yer job, and the rest.” His jubilance faded slightly. “Amber will be fine, and we’ll pick her up tomorrow. Now stop lookin’ like a depressed mook and come with me.”

The solution he promised seemed too simple, and also too difficult. I didn’t like the idea of it. For the moment I decided to deal what was just in front of me, and ignored everything else. Dinner at Finn and Lila’s, and a job. That was far easier to think about.

I pushed myself off the wall, shoved my hands into my pockets, and ambled past him down the road in the direction of his home. Finn fell into step beside me, smacking me in the arm as we walked along.

“Tie yer hair back, too,” he sneered. “Yeh look like a girl with it hangin’ like that.”

“Pfft. Yer just jealous coz I still have hair.”

Finn smacked my arm again, harder this time.

”Ow! Why yeh have to be so bloody violent!”

“S’the only way to teach yeh, yeh dense sod.”

I worried about Elsa, but maybe everything else would be all right.

[Marcus Kobra]

Ah Mate, When yer all done with this (if its ever done and with luck It wont and I'l have interesting stuff to read) you aught to thin of publishin yersef a book or sumthin. Just an opinion O course, Im no prefessional critic but I like what I read!

[Conan Darkmoon]

 Very well written. 

[Marcus Kobra]

*deeep breath* Well!! its been awhile since I read it. I still love it and was jsut wondering if There might ever be more? I know writting takes a long time to do, t odo well anyways. Just wondering if I might expect more??

Thanks mate!!

V/R

Marcus Kobra

[Ira]

“Hey… are you sleeping?”

I grunted, fighting to keep my eyes closed. “Yes.”

“But you got home early from work, today.”

Pulling my ragged quilt tighter over my shoulder, I curled up and tried to slip back into a dream state. Knowing what was inevitable, I took as much pleasure I could in lying in my dilapidated-but-still-functionally-soft mattress. “Yep,” I said, my tone somewhere between a guttural noise and a passable voice. “Ah’m exhausted, ah.”

“What’s exhausted mean?”

“It means tired.”

“Oh… But I don’t want you to sleep. It’s not even dark yet.”

I rolled over, whimpering. “Mrhmm.”

“Wake up!” The voice was pleading. “You can go to sleep when it’s nighttime, okay?”

“Nnh…” Sleep was so close. I was almost there.

The voice didn’t respond. Relief swept over me like another, less insect-eaten quilt, as it appeared I had been left alone.

No sooner had a display of colorful images appeared under my eyelids did I feel a weight pull down one side of my mattress. I offered no resistance as gravity rolled me over onto my back. I didn’t mind this strange disturbance until I felt something wet and cold press against my face. A sweet but dank odor filled my nostrils as I gasped in surprise.

“Yagh!” I shot up in my bed, sending a large, red amphibian flying a short distance until it landed on my feet. I stared blankly at the bullfrog that clung to my toes, which looked as startled and confused as I was.

A high pitched giggle erupted next to me, mixed with a series of amused snorts. I looked at its source accusingly. Two crystal blue eyes gazed gleefully back at me from underneath a tangled net of wild hair as black as mine. She sat on top of her knees next to me on the edge of my bed. I tried to form an irritated expression at her, but her smile melted it away.

“Mr. Frog wants you to wake up, Daddy,” she said matter-of-factly. She leaned her head dramatically over one shoulder, raising her open hands in the air as she coyly shrugged.

I couldn’t stop the grin from appearing on my face. “Well, if Mr. Frog wants meh to stay awake, guess I can’t vereh well argue, ah?”

“Yay!” Two small arms threw themselves around me and squeezed. I slid back over my bed so I could sit myself against the wooden wall behind me. It creaked as it accommodated my weight. “Why do you want to sleep anyway if it’s still light out?”

“Sorreh, Amber,” I grinned, staring at the frog still clinging to my feet. “Usually I dun get to sleep very much. I figured I’d make tha’ use outta me extra time, ah?” I shuffled the amphibian on my feet as I slid my arm around the six-year-old girl next to me. Six years. It hadn’t felt like such a long time, yet my life before her felt so far away.

“It’s okay,” Amber replied. “But I’m bored. We can go sleep earlier tonight, okay? Just be awake now.”

I smiled. “All right,” I agreed, although I knew she wouldn’t keep her promise.

Amber crawled down the length of the bed and picked up the frog. It was huge and bloated in her small arms. She looked up at me, her innocent freckled face begging for approval. “Isn’t it neat, Daddy?”

“Tha’s a bullfrog,” I replied. I nodded at her, but frowned. Now that my senses were returning, it occurred to me that something was off about Amber holding that animal in her hands. “Where’d yeh find it, eh?”

“Outside,” she said vaguely, holding the frog in one arm as she petted the top of its head. It struggled vainly.

“Let it go, Amber. You’re hurtin’ it.”

“Oh.” Reluctantly she let the frog hop out of her arms. It took two healthy jumps in a direction away from her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Frog.”

“Bullfrogs loik tha’ usually live near swamps, yah” I stared at it skeptically. The swamp nearest to Yew was several miles southeast, on the road to Britain. She couldn’t have possibly wandered that far to catch it, unless I’d slept longer than I thought. “Where outside did yer find it?”

“It was sitting by the house,” she said. “I just went outside and found it.”

I shrugged, dismissing the strangeness of the explanation. In retrospect, I wish I hadn’t.

“Let’s put it back outside, ah?” I slid off my quilt and rolled out of bed, taking the frog in one arm. It was larger than any other frog I’d ever seen, and weighed a good pound at least as it hung from my grip.

Amber eagerly ran to the door and opened it for me as I stumbled through it. I was met by a ray of sunlight strategically placed behind a clearing of leaves to shine brightly in my face. As tucked back into the forest as my shack was, it was by a rather great deal of unlikelihood that the sun managed to greet me this way. I squinted at the unpleasantly sharp light and quickly ducked into the shade, protected by the cover of the treetops.

“He was right… here!” Amber declared, pointing enthusiastically.

“Roit then, we’ll jus’ put’im back.” I set the bullfrog down on the dirt. Its skin stuck to mine, already dehydrated. The bullfrog hopped away quickly, scampering under a bushy fern. Again I tried to contemplate just what a frog like that would be doing in a comparatively arid forest like Yew.

“Do you like frogs, Dad?”

I shrugged, lifting my arms up to adjust my hair, and repair my ponytail. “I used to chase and catch li’l wood frogs when I was a boy, yah. Never seen one tha’ big though. Good job, eh?”

Amber replied with a satisfied giggle. “I’m glad you like frogs.” Her voice took on a more solemn tone. “Auntie Lila didn’t like them very much.”

I bust out laughing at the thought, glancing down at her. “Mischievous as yer father, aren’t yeh?”

She looked confused. “What’s mish... mischu… mischeevus?”

“Troublemakin’,” I said distractedly as I walked back to the door of my shack. I sat down on the stone block step in front of it, reclining back against the shack’s wall and absorbing the afternoon air.

“I’m not trouble making,” she whimpered defensively, then plopped down next to me. I slid my arm around her again. She leaned against me. A pacified smile grew onto my face, and remained if it were permanently affixed there. I could remember, albeit faintly, before I had quit drinking and hadn’t known how to adequately take care of Amber.

I was completely different, back then. Depressed too, although I hadn’t realized it at the time. I’d had no real reason to be sad. I wondered if my own father had been the same as me. Passively self-loathing but for no good reason. Or if he and Finn had been close at all. Avatar bless him; I doubted I’d still be around if it weren’t for Finnigan.

It hadn’t been particularly easy to change my religiously lethargic lifestyle or to give up drinking, but it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be. I was more than glad I had. I would’ve never have had this kind of relationship with Amber if I hadn’t. I remembered a list of drunkards telling me about the greatness of romance and the power of love. It was difficult to be enthusiastic about that kind of thing when it had made everyone in that tavern so miserable. But now, I thought perhaps I understood them. I had a different sort of love than they talked about, I was aware, but it was certainly more that I’d ever previously known.

My thoughts were interrupted by a mess of small fingers digging through the hairs of my goatee.

“Why do you have hairs growing on your face?” Amber asked curiously. I turned my head to stare down at her, but she didn’t let go of my beard.

“Yeh have hair on your face too, ah,” I replied, pointing to my eyebrows. “Loik this.”

Amber drew back her hand, feeling her own eyebrows. “But that’s different. It’s not on my chin.” She grabbed a handful of my facial hair again.

“Well, some grownup men like meh like hair on their faces, yeh,” I replied, feeling anxious. If she kept asking more specific questions, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep having answers. I left most of the “why’s” up to the Avatar. “Granted, mah goatee is neater ‘n prettier than any other’s, ah.”

“Oh,” she said, looking disappointed. “Can I have hair on my chin when I grow up?”

I chuckled. “When you grow up, yeh’ll be a woman. Onleh men have facial hair.” I paused for a moment, lingering on the thought. “Well SOME women can grow hair on their chins but, er…”

“Maybe I can be like them, then,” Amber nodded confidently, resting her head on my chest. I smiled but didn’t reply. “Did my mom have a beard like you?”

I looked down in surprise. “Yer mother?” She’d never asked about her before.

“Yeah.” She sounded wistful. “Auntie Lila told me that every boy and girl has a mother and a father. She said she used to have them too.”

I grated my teeth. Lila filling Amber’s head with mother-father nonsense. Talk like that could only lead to more prodding questions and I wasn’t exactly sure I was prepared to tell her about that sort of thing. Besides, Amber didn’t need to know that her mother had left her with me and then never came back. “Yer mom didn’t have a beard, Amber, ah.”

“Where is she?”

I grimaced. “I don’t know.” I looked down at her again. She stared back at me, waiting. Her eyes were searching, trying to take some kind of answer from the look on my face. “I guess yer Auntie Lila has been more of a mother ter yeh than anyone else, ah.”

“But I thought she was my auntie.”

“I suppose she’s sort of both,” I said without thinking. Then I started thinking. “Ah…! But dun repeat that ter anyone else! Someone might think we’re nobles.” I laughed at myself. “We can’t go thinkin’ we’ve got any money to steal.”

“You’re confusing.” Amber narrowed her eyes at me in frustration. “Oh, wanna see what else I found?”

[Marcus Kobra]

Once again a great instalment to this story. 5 Stars and thumbs up!

[Kerri]

Wow, amazing.