milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Sharpe is not in a good mood. The situations with Angela and Blodwen are combining to send him into a worse and worse temper, especially since he doesn't know what to do about either of them.

He's sitting by the Bar, eyeing the lake door and considering going outside to see if running until he's too tired to think might help.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"If she can be provoked with mere words to the things she's done... aye, I'd say so."

Not spoiling for a fight, noooo.

"Words can hurt. Words stick you, twist in your mind...you've never been provoked with 'mere words', Sharpe?"

"I'm human. She's not. After all these centuries, you'd think she'd have learned to take it."

Mordred is smiling. He is poised, waiting, golden eyes alight with a hunter's glee, but he's smiling.

"And, of course, you get used to being hated after centuries."

Sharpe catches the expression, and starts to smile himself, moving into a more poised stance.

"If she's been hated all that time? There'll be a damn good reason for it."

"You sound so sure of that."

"I've got pretty good evidence. Given that you claim she was provoked, but it's the innocent bystanders she went after. I never did a damn thing to the bitch before she put her spell on me. And Wellard thought she was his friend."

"He's a boy, I am correct? The kind who people want to take care of...chances are she didn't mean to hurt him."

"She took the gift he gave her and used it as her way back here, and near to ripped him apart in the process. And she's still got the damn thing, young Mary tried to get it back and she wouldn't give it up."

"And...you are surprised by this?"

"If she meant no harm by it, then she should damn well give it back when the lad wants it. He was in no state to go and ask for it himself. Mary says she's a liar, and I'm inclined to agree."

Mordred snorts, lightly, and doesn't say a word.

"Why are you so damn blind?" Sharpe demands, frustrated. "She's a risk to the whole bloody bar as long as she's free. Because she doesn't just hit the people that provoke her, does she. Bitch hits the ones foolish enough to be taken in."

"Like you?"

"Me. Caspian. Half a dozen others at least. Folk who did nothing wrong but talk to her at the wrong time, just talk and touch that damned knitting when she offered it. And she attacked us."

A quick shrug.

"That's what the two weeks were for."

"Aye, and I'm not arguing that. But if she did it once, provoked or not, she'll do it again."

"If, if, if, you can't punish someone for if!. Can't punish them, can't shut them up, can't kill them."

Mordred's voice is fast, and his eyes bright. May Day, all those children and parents screaming and crying because Merlin said 'he will'.

"She did do it once, Mordred!" Sharpe snaps, circling almost unconsciously. "And I don't know what set her off, but from what you've said she's easy to provoke, and we can't control every person in this bar to stop that happening! It will happen again."

"Potentially."

"Are you willing to take the risk? You'll vouch for her, maybe?"

Sarcastic.

A long moment.

"No, I will not. Vouch for her."

"You know it's coming, Mordred. Sooner or later, it's coming. That woman's a cold bitch with too much power for what she's willing to do with it, and it's all going to blow up."

Mordred doesn't think. He doesn't pause, don't think, just sends his fist into Sharpe's face. It's not that the other man called her a 'bitch', though that didn't help.

It's because, deep down, he knows that Sharpe is right.

Sharpe rocks back for an instant, his eye already starting to swell.

Then he grins, ferally, and launches a hard punch of his own at Mordred's jaw.

It's on.