“What’s this? You’re planning something in my honor?” I had just closed my eyes for five hot seconds. I should be completely alone. And yet, I’m not surprised to hear the Rummer’s deep voice. He does love to ambush me after all.
I laugh as a small table is spun from the shadows and becomes firm before me. He laughs with me, removing his hat and placing it on the table next to the sudden bottle of rum. He offers me a glass, there are two on the table after all, but I decline politely. Taking no offense, he pours himself a shot and lazily enjoys it.
The sound of the now empty glass as it clinked on the table keeps me from wandering too far in my thoughts. “Okay. You don’t do Formal, girl. Not your style. And I’m not your choice for Audacious Day, so you don’t owe me a damn thing as it is. What gives?” His mouth beamed mirth. His eyes glared at me with martial tracking.
“You might want another shot before I answer.” My wording was as steady as his glare. My voice reflected his mirth.
He raised an eyebrow, but I kept silent and only smiled. Humoring me, the Keeper of Skulls poured himself a knee-buckling amount of rum and consumed it with deliberate flair. He placed the now empty glass upside down beside the rejected upright, yet empty, shot glass on the table.
“Okay, girl. I’m ready.”
I took a deep breath and launched into a speech I was not prepared to give today. “When have I ever treated you with the respect due your station? From the first day you called me to that field of battle, I have treated you more like an uncle than the Power that you are. Even last year’s Audacious Day, I over stepped my bounds far more than you had given me leave to go. I know the only reason you allowed me to to leave intact is because of the Swamp Witch, and your own curiosity about me.”
His face gradually lost its mirth. The severity spread from his eyes outward. But I continued.
“Yes, I go where I’m not supposed to go, and do what I’m not supposed to do, and challenge all sorts of gods and Powers that get in my way.”
“But…”
“No matter how you and I may be personally, you are still [redacted], the Keeper of Skulls, the Master of the Door, and a Power. And I should respect that.”
I finished speaking found I had been leaning forward slightly. I smiled a little, and nodded a little, to indicated my meager speech was done. When he didn’t answer right away, I settled back into my chair and silently wished I had taken the offered alcohol after all. I looked up to see he was staring with such an intense glare, I felt my soul exposed and laid bare before him.
“I have never demanded this of you.” His voice sounded ancient and heavy.
I nodded and was barely able to whisper, “I know.”
He continued on the heels of my words. “You walk so far outside known and established paths, it would be improper of me to treat you as I do most of those that petition me.”
I nodded and felt compelled to answer him again. “You’ve told me.”
He reaches across the table and takes my hands with his. With a strange sadness, he sighs. “I have made my requests of you, but I have never demanded. Today, I am.”
He squeezed my hands to the point of pain. “Don’t. Don’t do this. I am not at leave to explain why. Only that if you follow through, our… conversations… will never be the same. They are likely to never continue.”
He pulled my hands towards him. “And even in this, I can only strongly request.”
He kissed my hands and released them gently. “You have a day to deal with, girl. A stubborn skull to heel. And a fire to stoke. I’ll chat with you later.”
He bowed stiffly in his seat. As he stood, he took his hat from the table. Turning to walk away, he donned his hat and began whistling a mournful solemn tune. The shadows quickly embraced him as he left me alone at the table.
Seeing the two glasses on the table filled me with a sudden remorse. I closed my eyes from the sight of them and opened them to find myself in my room, alone, once more.
I obeyed the impetus that quickly came. I documented the encounter, and will be posting it for public view. I’m sure it will be confusing to most readers, however. I haven’t written of the Rummer for a while.
I value him, even though he’s a manipulative bastard at times. I would like to keep annoying him as much as possible. I won’t be following through my plans for a formal honoring of him. I’ll just keep on doing as I do. Giving him the first shot of a new bottle of rum or whiskey. Offering him a glass whenever I pour some for me. Learning how to play with the toys he has given me.