(no subject)

[god_of_the_arena]

Work started early.

Gannicus didn't have a problem with early mornings, but sometimes they had a problem with him. Especially if he'd been drinking the night before... and he was almost always drinking the night before. His boss informed him a day or so ago that he'd hired someone new and they - she would be in this morning.

Whatever he was expecting, she was... short. With hair that reminded him of home. Despite his generally congenial nature, Gannicus couldn't muster an actual smile. His head still throbbed, though with the water he'd been pounding back it was starting to ease.

"I am not much for mornings," he confessed as he pulled his hair back. They had a fresh shipment that needed to be cut and portioned for the day's sales. It was early.

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[scorpiobird]

As I got dressed this morning, it occurred to me for the first time that Peg Gratton was someone else before she became Peg Gratton. She can't have been born a frizzy-haired butcher's wife who could cut your heart out neat. She was someone else before and I wonder, now, if I'll also be. When does before end, really?

Applying for a job had been done halfway on a lark. The butcher had had a sign that said help was wanted and I'd thought of the day in Thomas Gratton's car, talking about their need for an apprentice. Somehow, they'd taken me seriously anyway.

Today is the first day I'm allowed to actually cut anything. I've been in training, being taught knives, various cuts. Even today, they won't let me handle anything more complex than the cheap cuts and the grinding, but I've got my hair braided around my head and under a cap and a knife in my hand. It feels like the start of something.

And for this man, it feels like his party's only just ended, but I'm used to that and I nod. "I don't think the sides of beef will much mind."

[god_of_the_arena]

"They rarely do," he said with a chuckle. He rubbed his face and eventually found his way to a travel mug that had been left. Gannicus had no idea how to brew coffee, but the boss knew him well enough by now to always leave some.

He moved slowly as he took the first sip - still a bit too hot but that didn't stop him. "I'm Gannicus," he said after a moment, slowly coming to life.

[scorpiobird]

I look enviously at his mug until the aroma of coffee hits me. I've never had much of a taste for the stuff and I wish now I'd thought to have a cup of tea before I left this morning. As it is, I barely had time for toast. Butchers keep very early hours.

"Kate Connolly," I reply. It seems a little formal but I'm not sure enough of Gannicus to let him call me Puck yet.

[god_of_the_arena]

"Apologies for my poor manner. Morning fog will pass. If you like, when I can break proper word, I will talk through the butcher of the lamb we have."

He would offer the cow, but he planned to do that before the caffeine had time to hit him. At least the part that involved a saw.

[scorpiobird]

I open my mouth and start to say that I don't need helping but, in a rare moment of patience, I realize that of course I do. "That'd be good, then," I agree, looking over at the case of them. It's a tidy enough sight, nothing like the sheep I've seen on the roads to Skarmouth.

[god_of_the_arena]

"Where do you come from?" he asked after his first proper drink from the travel mug. It was still hot, but no longer intolerable. Gannicus knew they should start getting to work, but he needed this.

[scorpiobird]

"Thisby. It's a little island in Britain," I say. And then, because it seems to not be a well-understood fact, I add, "But I'm not English." The distinction is an important one because I'm Thisby. I'm not from Scotland or Ireland and I'm bloody well not from England.

Watching him drink his coffee, I wish even more for a good cup of tea. It's cold in here.

[god_of_the_arena]

Thisby, Britain, England, Scotland, Ireland. The names of distant lands drifted in and out of his mind. He'd heard some of them before as his circle of friends grew, but he had no memory for where they went on the map. He would look later, or he would find Porthos and ask him. Though his reading had much improved, he still liked having other people tell him things.

Gannicus noticed, eventually, the way she eyed his coffee. He offered the mug to her, eyebrows lifted.

[scorpiobird]

"Thank you," I say, but I shake my head. "I'm not much for coffee. Just not used to how cold it is in here." Of course, I should have expected it–meat has to be kept cold after all–but I'm not used to it.

Looking for something to do with my hands, I attend to the counter, making ure it's wiped clean. Of course it already is.

[god_of_the_arena]

"It took some getting used to," he admitted. "It warms up once you start moving."

He set the mug aside and pushed away from the counter. "Here, pull that lamb down. We'll start there." Gannicus grabbed another one of the carcasses so they could work side by side. The best way to learn was practice, at least in this trade. He'd keep an eye to make sure none of the cuts were badly butchered, but he'd also demonstrate before asking her to do something.

[scorpiobird]

I smile wryly and nod. "Yes, that sounds just like Thisby," I say. The day hasn't really started but I doubt today will be idle in any way.

The idea of grabbing a whole lamb carcass is suddenly a very odd thing to consider even though I know that's the job I've taken. Sternly, I tell myself that there's no reason to fuss, especially if I plan to love a man who rides one of the capaill uisce. I march myself over the rack and heft one. It's heavy, but smaller than a bale of hay.

"All right. Let's start."

[god_of_the_arena]

At least the head has already been removed. Gannicus grinned when she brought it over.

"Lay it out there," he said, gesturing to the counter space next to him with his knife. After thinking a moment, he grabbed the bone saw and set it on the work space between them. They were going to need it.

From there, Gannicus walked Kate through each cut, demonstrating first before watching her copy it - he only offered guidance if it looked like her knife might slip, and once or twice he held the carcass still for her while she cut with the saw.

"I would offer similar help for the cows - sometimes it's easier to butcher them as they hang, and an extra body prevents swing."

[scorpiobird]

I'd expected, with a tall, brawny man that Gannicus would condescend to me at every step. Instead, he lets me cut through the pieces myself, helping me along. I won't call it a kindness that he's teaching me how to properly do the job but I see a kindness in his manner.

Strange, how quickly I can think of this carcass as meat. In a few strokes of the blade, I'm looking at shanks and chops and wishing I could afford some of what I'll be selling.

"If you show me how, I'll do that."

[god_of_the_arena]

When they were done the two lambs, Gannicus brought the trays over - one of them would go into the display case; the other would wait until refills were needed, or they would be parceled out as special orders that had already been sent in.

Gannicus cleaned his hands off and flashed Kate a grin.

"Ready to attempt cow and pig?"

[scorpiobird]

"Not really, but I'd better learn and sooner is better, isn't it?" I say, wiping off my knives and following him. Gannicus has a smile made for charming and it's tempting to fall for it, but he's no Sean and I've got a sour disposition and a side of beef to take apart.

"How long did it take you to learn all this?"

[god_of_the_arena]

"I've been doing it most of my life," he said. "We hunted for what we needed." As a slave he hadn't needed the skill, but it wasn't one he'd forgotten; as a reluctant free man and member of a rebel army, he'd practiced often. "Usually deer or goats," he confessed. "But the rest were easy to learn."

[scorpiobird]

I can't boast such skills, myself. "I'm pretty sure there's more meat in this room than I've eaten since–" Suddenly, I haven't got the words to it. How can I tell a near-stranger how poorly I've eaten in the last year as well as my reasons why.

"Money's not very good when you're an orphan," I say, rather than leave the word empty in the air.

[god_of_the_arena]

"Nor when you're a slave," he answered, offering a small smile. "I lived on my dominus's good graces and the will of the mob for a long time." Even as a freed man he got boy on very little coin, most of it earned from plying this particular trade. "Our boss gives considerable discount. If you have interest."

[scorpiobird]

He moves on so quickly from the topic that I don't think of anything to say that doesn't sound pitying. There's no use in saying sorry because I know I'd have hated it if someone said that to me, especially if I'd once been someone's property, for all the nasty things everyone on the island said about belonging to Benjamin Malvern.

So I nod and screw up my face sympathetically in a way that I hope conveys that I don't want to harp on a point if he doesn't want to but that it still sounds terrible. I think, mostly, I just look like I've got indigestion.

"I'm less worried about feeding myself than our horses," I say.

[god_of_the_arena]

"Have you been to the farm here?" he asked. "A woman there, Eowyn, would help without thought." He was sure she would, especially in the matter of keeping horses well-fed and safe.

[scorpiobird]

"Just the stables," I say. I've explored some of the city, at last, but most of my interest in the country has been in places that Dove would like. "She's boarded there but they charge by the month."

They also tell me I need to have her see a vet and a farrier soon, which costs yet more money. I know it's good for her, but the price makes my head spin a little.

[god_of_the_arena]

"Could you work it off?" he asked, wondering out loud - Gannicus didn't know. But he wondered if she could do chores in exchange for a lower board rate. Surely something could be worked out.

[scorpiobird]

"I can, a bit. And I do, but they've got all the working grooms they need." More to the point, they've got Sean Kendrick and I'm sure he will make himself indispensable in no time.

"And my...sweetheart's horse is unusual." Sweetheart feels young and silly, but still better than boyfriend to say. "He eats meat."

[god_of_the_arena]

Gannicus wasn't sure he wanted to consider what kind of beast looked like a horse but ate meat. In the strangeness of Darrow it didn't seem impossible, but the thought was foreign enough to be... disturbing. Like some monster out of myth.

"At least you can get it at discount now," he said with a wry smile.

[scorpiobird]

I nod. "And at least my Dove only eats hay and grain." I've come to love Corr but he is the only capall uisce that I see in that way. The rest are still terrifying things to me that don't seem like real horses.

[god_of_the_arena]

"They sound like stories from home," he said. It didn't surprise him that something like that would show up here - not after ten months spent in Darrow.

[scorpiobird]

"Oh?" I ask and I know I ought to be kinder but I can't help being my own rotten self. "You've got stories where monstrous horses come out of the water every fall and islanders train them to race?"

[god_of_the_arena]

"No, but stories of monstrous beasts that dwell in rivers and lakes and ponds, and will take a child or a grown man down to the depths, or for a ride that will last his life and beyond." He shrugged, a faint smirk on his mouth. "Of flaming horses that pull the sun across the sky, and great dogs that guard the dead. If you come from a place where men catch and ride such creatures, it would not be beyond belief to my people."

[scorpiobird]

"Those aren't stories where I'm from," I say. "Not the flaming ones or the three-headed dogs, but the capaill uisce lived in the ocean. Everyone on our island knew someone who'd been killed by one."

I don't give him the answer right away but I know the next question is obvious. If everyone on Thisby's known people to die from the water horses, who have I lost?

Suddenly, the thought of hacking away at meat turns my stomach and I have to drop my head and close my eyes until I get my bearings again.

[god_of_the_arena]

The question never came, though; she'd already answered it enough. Everyone on the island knew someone that died, so she must too. Asking after it, prompting, seemed somehow rude; or maybe she expected it? Gannicus was rarely good in moments like this. He drank his coffee slowly and sets it aside, watching as she looked down, apparently trying to catch herself.

"Are you well?" he asked, watching cautiously. If she was about to faint, he wanted to be sure to catch her.

[scorpiobird]

"Yes," I say. I'm not, not perfectly, but I need to tell myself that so I can steady myself. "I just thought about something from home." The gutted sheep lying in the road. The spray of blood on my face as that wretched piebald bit the terrier in two. The thought of what my parents must have looked like, if even anything was left.

And I'm thinking of cutting up meat to feed one of them?

I take a deep, cold breath and put my hands on the counter. "I'm not used to this. I will be."