daily writing (taltos)

[jmtorres]

For dbzlives, I wrote a missing scene from Yendi.

498 words. Also on AO3.

The first thing Cawti heard when she was revivified was Norathar's urgent mind-voice, calling her name.

I'm here, said Cawti, reaching out.

Oh, thank Barlen, said Norathar. Are you all right?

I think so, said Cawti. She opened her eyes. The blonde Dragaeran who had shown up at the fight was standing (floating?) over her, watching her with a hint of threat. What's going on? she asked Norathar.

The two Dragonlords, they want something from me, Norathar said disgustedly. I don't know what. I said I wouldn't talk to them until they brought you back.

How is that even possible? I thought the man had a Morganti sword. She was almost certain of it. She remembered its raw, humming hunger as it swung towards her, and had to close her eyes.

I don't know. I don't care. I'm just glad you're alive, Norathar sent.

But you'll have to deal with them now, Cawti said, troubled.

It can't be anything so bad, said Norathar. They are Dragonlords. It's not like they'll ask me to kill anybody.

At least Norathar's dry humor was intact. The day Norathar couldn't make a morbid joke was the day Cawti would worry. She sent a quick Love you Norathar's way, and focused on the Dragonlord who'd revivified her.

"Done?" the Dragonlord asked archly.

"I'm sure you'll forgive me for wanting to check in with my partner," Cawti said, "considering the circumstances under which I was parted from her."

The Dragonlord smiled. It was not a particularly kind smile. She held out some slinky piece of clothing. "You may wear this," she said. "Your own clothes were, unfortunately, rendered unsalvageable by those very circumstances."

Cawti realized she was nude, and took the item, holding it over her body. It was a nightgown. "I can't wear this out," she protested.

"You're not going anywhere for the moment," said the Dragonlord. "In the first place, you made an attempt on Vladimir Taltos, whom I consider a friend--"

"An attempt?" Cawti interrupted. She'd thought they'd gotten him.

The Dragonlord's smile turned to a sneer. "You killed him," she admitted. "We've brought him back."

Then the contract had been fulfilled. Just barely.

"In the second place," the Dragonlord went on, "you are ransom for your partner's good behavior."

Snooty bitch. Cawti wasn't even sure if she was attacking the shared business that made them professional partners, or the suggestion of a relationship between a Dragaeran and an Easterner. Either way, if Cawti had had a knife, she'd have slit the woman.

"In the third place," said the Dragonlord, "you were quite recently dead, and while I've done what I can to heal your wounds, you will need to rest. For these reasons, you will not be leaving this room for some time."

Cawti swallowed a curse. "And when will you permit me to see Nor--the Sword?"

The Dragonlord smiled, like she'd just wrested a treasure from a dragon's hoard. She said, "After she has given us her name."