sativa: (Nano - Kill you)
[personal profile] sativa posting in [community profile] snippets
Title: Cursed
Fandom: Original
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Fantasy Spy Thriller?
Wordcount: 478

She rushed, weaving her way through the crowd of onlookers, her heart half in her throat. Today was the day.

There were no more chances, no more stays of execution.

It was now or never.

Willing her feet to hurry, she cursed under her breath as some passerby jabbed her in the side. Yeah well, she was no more happy to have to push her way through the wall of people, herself!

But she had to.

She could already hear the slow roll of the drum as it beat a ponderous, stately toll of solemnity.

He walked, head bowed slightly as the ropes burned around his wrists. She should know; that’s how it had started, to be honest. A job gone bad and off she was to the mines, little knowing that he was actually a she and that of course she’d done it all on purpose.

Still, Wolf hadn’t been such a bad man, not back then.

She remembered his smile, the way he had winked at her even as he joked and horsed around with their captors. If it hadn’t been for him, she never would have made it out of the salt mines at all.

She’d been such a fool.

Stepping on a man’s toes, she grimaced and then ducked under said man’s arm as he shifted to blast the guy behind her a new one.

She was almost there, almost close enough.

She could practically see the color of Wolf’s eyes as he mounted the steps to the guillotine.

She cursed anew.

Hear-ye, hear ye, all who gather here!

It was starting and she cursed anew as she meet up against a wall she couldn’t budge.

By edict of the law, this man, Fane Costin, shall die for killing a man. His sister, the romani Aishe Cojini shall bear witness that, by his death, justice has been done.

She shoved, not caring if a riot was started because of her pushiness. She had to stop this. Time was running out.

The rope was settled around his neck.

The drums beat again, a rough staccato that echoed through the square.

Faris cried out, a lone voice in the near silent square. They did not budge even as pale blue eyes meet gold.

She choked back a sob, heel pressed against her mouth as she stared at Costin. A lever jerked, his body fell, the rope snapped taut in a second, and still she stared, bearing witness. It wasn’t until his hands fell limp to his side that she turned, staring at the gaunt woman standing at the edge of the platform, bearing witness.

That woman, Aishe, closed her eyes, tears trailing down her face before she forced them open again and Faris knew.

This curse, this damn Romani curse would never die.

It would haunt them both until the day they died.

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