Of Feather and Fire [k. brekker]

alls fair in prostitution and war

"ITS LATE." There was worry in Dorian's voice as it carried through the small combined kitchen and living room of his father's flat. He was bent over the sink, scrubbing away at the dishes from dinner which were caked with grime, some new and some from meals past. His father was sitting at the couch, resting after a long day of errands and grunt work for Tante Heleen. He'd been kept busy on account of it being Farren's first real night, Heleen hadn't wanted him to pose a problem, what with the bond he'd formed with Farren he was considered a flight risk.

But now it was nearly three in the morning and Farren was three hours late home from the party, it made Dorian's stomach churn. He'd always had a good sense for when things were wrong. Many times he'd woken in a cold sweat and found Farren sobbing, fresh home from a night with a gross excuse of a man who'd taken advantage of her indenture. That same dread coursed through him now, constricting his breathing, he could feel it, like a pulse of electricity through the air. His father sighed from the couch, rubbing a hand across his wrinkled face. Three years had changed him, his face bore deep lines and his hair was shot through with silver. He wasn't as quick or as strong as he once was, but he was still a mountain of a man.

"I'm sure she's fine Dorian, Heleen would tell us if we should worry." He said, not sure if he was reassuring his son or himself. He wouldn't have imagined four years ago that he and his boy would be sitting up and fretting over an indentured girl to come home from the Menagerie, and yet that little shapeshifting girl who proved to be quite fiery, had worked her way under his skin and found a place in his heart alongside his blood son. Farren had been so standoffish at first, locking herself away in the small room she and Dorian shared, forcing his son to sleep on the sagging couch on which Cassius now sat.

Dorian, the ever forgiving boy he was, had shrugged off every back ache and tweaked muscle that he endured, Cassius had been so enraged, he recalled. This girl was doing harm, small as it may be, to his son, and he was half tempted to throw her out into the heart of the Barrel to fend for herself.

That was until one night he'd come out to find Dorian stretched out on the couch with the back of his shirt up to his shoulders, and Farren's hands, glowing with a gentle flame, hovering over his back to provide some relaxation for his nerves. Their conversation had ended when he walked in but he'd caught enough of it to know that she was talking about home. He had then realized the truth, she was scared, feeling alone in a foreign city being raised for a job that no one would want.

After that he'd tried to do better, bringing her trinkets that Suli vendors sold and sweets for both when he could afford to. Slowly Farren had begun to spend more time out of the room, even staying and briefly talking with him around. Soon she was moving freely through the house with the both of them, smiling, laughing with them, and they even celebrated her birthday just as they did Dorian's.

His eyes softened at the memories, how he'd dreaded this day, the day Heleen came and said that she was ready to really work. He knew what she'd have to do, and even if he wasn't aware of what had happened prior, it made his skin crawl to think of Farren, of his daughter, being in that position. But it was her job, and she'd put on a brave face so he too would be brave. That included now, facing Dorian's worries head on with calm determination even as he felt fear creeping up on him.

His attention was drawn back to his son as he threw down the towel he'd been using to scrub the dishes. Even before Dorian turned around, Cassius could see the anger in his posture and he knew what was coming, Dorian had outbursts sometimes, when he felt things were unfair, and now seemed as good a time as any.

"It isn't right! She doesn't have a choice in this, that shouldn't be allowed, she didn't even sign her own indenture! She was sold, like a chair or a book, like a thing! Farren isn't a thing, she should be free to make her own choices!" Dorian's eyes were bright with a passion that reminded Cassius quite painfully of his late wife.