ORIGINAL: Gold-Streaked Blue ~ PG-ish

[batsutousai]

Title: Gold-Streaked Blue
Author: batsutousai
Warnings: Murder
Summary: A common-born girl with a talent for magic is forced to learn from her mother's murderer.

A/N: This was intended to be a much longer story – this was supposed to be chapter one, as you'll see by the ending – but I sort of ran out of ideas. So it got left here. I dunno, maybe I'll pick the idea up again, someday.


Gold-Streaked Blue

"You shouldn't have left Master Ashmier's lecture like that, Sarah," a young woman with long brown hair informed the short-haired girl who was kicking a stone down the road. "He'll call you out again."

"Why should ah give a flip about what that old pig has ta say?" Sarah snapped, pale cheeks red with anger. "And he'd'a called me out anyway. Ya know that, Vere."

Vere sighed. "You have to pass his class to get your robes–"

"Don'cha think ah knows that?" Sarah gave a nearby rock an extra hard kick and sent it flying into a tree. "Mistress Lelay's been tellin' me that all the times, now."

"Has told you that often."

"Whatever."

Vere shook her head and tugged on Sarah's arm to make her stop. "Look, I know you two have had problems before–"

"Killin' mah ma was more'n 'problems'..." Sarah muttered.

"BUT," Vere continued loudly. "But, you still have to take his class and pay attention. And behave." Vere paused for a moment, then added, "And you've no proof."

"Ah knows what ah saw," Sarah offered. "That's proof 'nough."

"For you, yes," Vere agreed, looking worn. "And for me, even. But the Lords need something more solid. And they favor Master Ashmier."

"Course they do. He's a Lord, jest like them. Ah'm jest another common-born who lost her ma in the slums."

"You're not 'just another common-born'!"

"No," Sarah agreed with dark eyes. "Ah'm a common-born who lost her ma in tha slum and has magic that mighta saved her if only ah'd'a had the trainin'. But ah didn't. So theys lettin' me come ta this school sos ah can learn. But he's here. Ah bet he's wishin' ah hadn't'a come here. Now ah knows who he is."

"Until you have proof, Sarah, you can't do anything about it. And he knows that!"

Sarah crossed her arms over her chest. "Ah knows that. Yas only been tellin' me fer two years now."

Vere threw her hands up in the air and looked up at the sky. "Gods forbid you ever listen to me."

"Ah listen," Sarah muttered. "Ah jest don't always do as ya says."

"I'd noticed."

"And don't go callin' tha gods inta this. They has more'nough ta do without ya invokin' thems all tha time."

Vere rolled her eyes. "Let's get to my house, alright? Cook said she was making biscuits with fruit for us."

Sarah's dark eyes lit up. "Strawberries?"

"Probably."

"Ah'll race ya!" Sarah called, then took off running.

Vere rolled her eyes. "Only the common-born run for their food!" she called after her friend.

Sarah laughed.

***

It had been a dark night when it happened. Sarah had been running late from her secret classes with the herbalist down the road. Running late had probably saved her life, the Watch would say later. But when she found her mother's bloody body slumped in her favorite rocking chair, her own life hadn't been her concern. Sarah had been thinking more along the lines of, 'If only I'd gotten here sooner, she'd still be alive.'

After a good scream that woke the eerily silent houses around hers, Sarah pulled herself together and looked. There were no footsteps in the dust-free floor. The dripping blood was undisturbed by fingers or feet. No traces of blood touched any surfaces any farther than that which the blood pooling along the floor hadn't already passed. The only sign that another human had been there to kill her mother was a shimmer of gold-streaked blue magic that danced around her mother's bare neck.

As the Watch and the neighbors poured into the house and stopped to stare at the bloody scene, Sarah remembered a silver charm on a fine silver chain. Too beautiful for someone so poor as her mother; Sarah recalled her mother saying it had been a gift from her latest lover.

The charm and chain were gone.

In shock, Sarah was led away by a hard-faced man of the Watch. Numb, she answered their questions: Had she killed her mother? No. Where had she been, then? With the herbalist down the road. Would the herbalist vouch for her? Of course. Did she know who might have wanted to kill her mother? No. Ma was such a kindly woman. Was anything missing from the house? Did she know? A silver charm on a silver chain. Ma got it from her man. Did she know who the man was? No. Ma never introduced them.

And on and on.

By the time the herbalist had been brought to vouch for her and the questions had ended, the sun had risen in the east and the shock was wearing off. In its place was an all-consuming grief with anger shimmering just beneath.

Kindly Vere begged her father to take on her common-born friend who had nowhere to go and no one to lean on. Kindly Vere got her best friend into the same magic school she herself attended. Kindly Vere offered a shoulder to cry on when her dear friend woke in the night, screaming and crying from nightmares of blood and death.

Kindly Vere was the only thing that kept Sarah from jumping forward and strangling the man with gold-streaked blue magic when she first saw him. Kindly Vere forced Sarah to sit back and look. Kindly Vere quietly explained the world and lent a shoulder for Sarah to cry on.

Sometimes, Sarah thanked the gods for Vere.

Other times, she cursed them.

Them, and the world's pathetic excuse for 'justice'.

***

"G'day, Mistress Lelay," Sarah offered as she settled into the now-familiar chair in front of the woman's desk. Mistress Lelay was the second head of the magical school Sarah and Vere attended, and her daily duties included keeping tabs on troublesome students. Like Sarah.

The elder woman settled her papers to one side and gave Sarah her full attention – long practice had taught her that only giving troublesome students part of her attention got things broken. "Good morning, Sarah. Master Ashmier, as I'm sure you've already guessed, has put in another complaint about you."

Sarah shrugged. "Yah."

"Sarah, what did I tell you last time you were in here?"

"That ah shouldn't be lettin' Master Ashmier get ta me. And ah didn't! Ah pretended he weren't in there and it were a sweet lil' bunny rabbit ah were learnin' from!" Sarah crossed her arms across her chest defensively. "He started it this time."

Mistress Lelay just barely managed to squash a groan. Of all the many cases she'd battled in her years at her post, Sarah's was the most complex. The girl was a good student and all of her other teachers had only good to say about her, but she'd latched onto Master Ashmier as the murderer of her mother after seeing his magic once. And Master Ashmier was the only teacher who taught about magical signatures, which was required knowledge for getting a magical robe at the school.

"Sarah, take a deep breath," Mistress Lelay ordered softly. Sarah did so and her arms loosened slightly. "Now, would you tell me what happened?"

"Ya already knows," Sarah shot back, eyes landing on the sheet of paper next to Mistress Lelay's elbow that was covered in Master Ashmier's angry scrawl.

Mistress Lelay turned the paper over and met Sarah's eyes. "But I still want to hear your side."

Sarah seemed to shrink in her seat, and it was only the lack of magical glow around her that showed it hadn't been by magic. "Well, ah said ah'd been pretendin' he were a bunny, yah?" Mistress Lelay nodded quietly, refusing to interrupt. "So, he goes and calls on me durin' lecture yesterday. And ah don't know tha answer. So he attacks me about not doin' mah readin'. But ah has been. And ah saw on tha face of tha girl next ta me that she didn't know neither. Sos ah asked him ta tell me where tha answer were in tha readin' and he wouldn't. But ah weren't gonna let him skimp everyone else's knowledge ta make a point with me. Sos ah demanded he tells us. 'Cept no one else seemed to care. And he told me ta leave 'cause I were disruptin' his class.

"And that were what happened," Sarah finished with a shrug.

Mistress Lelay nodded thoughtfully and turned over the paper from Master Ashmier. "Did you leave before he could talk to you after the lecture?"

"Yah. Ah'd ruther get a talkin' ta by ya, than be in tha same room as him."

"Given your past record with Master Ashmier, I have to say that you made the best choice there, even if it did mean we both had to get up early this morning." Mistress Lelay smiled at Sarah to let the girl know she didn't really mind. "For the most part," she continued, smile fading into a stern look, "your stories match. Master Ashmier, however, swears that the question was in the reading and, after you left, he had another student answer it."

"Vere never said nothin' 'bout that..."

"It's not something he can lie about, Sarah; there were too many witnesses."

Sarah slumped down in her seat, looking defeated. "Ah swears it weren't in tha readin'."

"I know," Mistress Lelay said, eyes sad. "But you know I have to go with Master Ashmier on this, unless someone else in your class can back you up that it wasn't in the reading. And that person can't be Vere, or it won't hold."

"Ah knows," Sarah whispered.

Mistress Lelay nodded. "One week's suspension, starting today. You're dismissed."

Sarah left the office without a word.

***

The first time Sarah had seen Master Ashmier had been a bit of a fluke. She had been wandering around her new school by herself before classes started for the term and they passed one another in the hall. She hadn't thought anything of the well-dressed noble the first time. She hadn't even paid him a second's thought, so amazed by the architecture of the building was she.

The first time she realized he was the man who killed her mother had been during her first-year mandatory class to see where they were in controlling their magic. He had been helping their teacher because his normal assistant had been ill, and the moment she saw his magic – gold-streaked blue, just like her mother's killer – she felt ill herself. It was by chance that Vere, who's class had been cancelled, had been in the room, next to Sarah. She had seen Sarah go pale and hurried her out of the room with as little disruption as she could, making apologies as she went.

After cleaning her mouth from bile and sick, Sarah had placed the pieces together properly and immediately started ranting about killing Master Ashmier. If Vere hadn't been there, she may well have. Instead, they'd gone to Mistress Lelay and Sarah had told the second head what she'd seen and known, after a lot of prodding from Vere.

Mistress Lelay was the one who explained why she couldn't attack Master Ashmier, with or without the law. It was Mistress Lelay who fought for her to not have to take Master Ashmier's class, but the Lords said she had to. The Lords demanded she suffer her mother's murderer's presence and not kill him.

Somehow, no many how many times Master Ashmier attacked Sarah in his class, Mistress Lelay stepped in and cut any punishments in half, or didn't use them at all. No matter how much Sarah wished to see justice done in her mother's name, she respected Mistress Lelay's attempts to keep her safe from the Lords' anger on one of their member's behalf.

If not for Mistress Lelay, Sarah knew, she would have been back in the slums a year ago.

So, for Mistress Lelay, Sarah tried to make peace with her mother's killer in any way she could.

Not that Master Ashmier made it easy.

***

"Papa didn't care, did he?" Vere asked that afternoon as she settled elegantly in the chair next to Sarah's.

Sarah glanced over the top of her book and shrugged. "Nah. Ah think he's givin' up on me."

Vere sighed. "As long as you can still live with us..." She shook her head. "What did Mistress Lelay say?"

"One week. Or ah have ta get someone who ain't you ta say that question weren't in tha readin'," Sarah answered flippantly from behind her book.

"Do you want me to call in some favors?"

"Nah. Ah'm fine sittin' here and not havin' ta see him."

"True. You're much calmer when you're on suspension."

Sarah offered Vere a pained smile over her book, then went back to it.

Vere started out the window across from their chairs for a good ten minutes before asking, "What will you do tomorrow?"

"Study."

"Liar."

Sarah and Vere traded smiles.

"What will you really be doing?"

"Ah were thinkin' ah might dress like a common-born and go down ta tha slums ta visit with thems ah grew up with."

"That should do you some good. Do you want me to beg Papa for some money?"

"Nah. Ah'd ruther not travel tha slums with more'n the four coppers ah've already got."

Vere nodded. "Of course. Any chance in you getting me one of Mam Salte's biscuits?"

"Course. Leave me a copper in the morn and ah'll pick ya one up."

Vere stood. "I'll leave it on your dresser, then. Have fun reading."

Sarah glanced back at her book. "Fun. Right."

Vere laughed as she left the room.

***

Vere had often been left to her nursemaid for care, and her nursemaid had been friends with Sarah's mother before they'd married into separate worlds. Still, Vere's nursemaid hadn't forgotten her old friend and when the two once met up at the market, they got to talking about nonsense, leaving two young girls to poke one another. That first day, Vere and Sarah hadn't gotten along. Sarah had complained that Vere was snobby and Vere complained that Sarah was too dirty and talked strangely.

A month of meetings in the market and, later, lunch at Sarah's home found the two children tolerating one another. Within a year, they were best friends. No matter Vere's best efforts, Sarah's speech never got much better, but the poorer girl did clean up a bit and Vere learned to leave her snobby attitude at her home.

When Vere learned that Sarah's mother had been murdered and her friend was living alone in the house her mother had died in, she went to her father and begged his kindness. The next day, Sarah was being shown to a room that was as big as the house she and her mother had shared and three times as beautiful. Vere said it was all hers.

Sarah didn't know how she'd ever repay her friend's kindness, but she swore that first day, as she'd stared at the magnificent room, that she would do her best.

.