Not All Little Girls Are Made of Sugar and Spice, Some Are Made of Fire.

Not All Little Girls Are Made of Sugar and Spice, Some Are Made of Fire.

A Story by dragonw218

        Alix sat at the roughly hewn table and sighed. Her fingertips absently tapped against the table's surface as she glanced around the establishment. The warm ale in the tankard beside her remained untouched. She hated the beverage's malty taste, but unfortunately, it was all that the barmaid had to offer. The leg of mutton that she had ordered for supper had yet to arrive, and her stomach growled in frustratin.

       The tavern was crowded. It was full to the brim with every sort of man from the meager farmer to the pickpocket, and she noted with a wry glance at the shaded character leaning against the wall, the occasionaly murderer. She could almost smell the metallic scent of blood under his dirty fingernails. A final reminder of his latest victim.

       The barmaid expertly weaved around the room staying well away from grasping hands. Alix smiled wryly. The barmaid was definitely no novice when it came to serving patrons such as these.  As she made her way around a particularly large customer, Alix noticed the plate of mutton clutched tightly in her hands. She closed her eyes and inhaled its tantalizing aroma. Alix reopened her eyes just as the plate was set before her, and she looked up gratefully. The barmaid barely had time to respond before another customer called out a request, and she disappeared into the crowd once again.

       Alix lifted the leg of mutton to her lips and stripped the meat from the bone letting the juices flow down her throat. She practically purred with satisfaction at the flavorful taste. It had been so long since she had enjoyed a hot meal that it took her a moment before her acute senses detected a tenseness in the air around the group behind her. They were speaking in low tones, but the hightened hearing that was inherent in her kind made it easy for her to hear them.

       "Well, I heard that Nathan saw her speaking to that cat. You know, the one that keeps hanging around." One of the men said conspiratorially.

       "I'm telling you that she is definitely a witch!" The man leaned forward. "I think that it's all her fault that the crops didn't come up this year. Mark my words. She is nothing but trouble!"  

       "I agree." Another man started. "What do you want to do?"

       "Aye. What do you want to do?" the first man asked.

       Alix gripped her leg of mutton so tightly that the knuckles on her hand were white from the lack of circulation. She gritted her teeth angrily. Alix's mother had been accused of witchcraft and had been sentenced to die by men such as these. She couldn't bear the thought of someone else losing thier life for one idiot's belief. Even if this woman that they spoke of was a witch, they had no right to harm her. Her life was no less valuable than any of the other fools in this tavern. She would just have to go and have a little talk with those men. Perhaps, she could help them change their minds.

To be continued. . .

© 2010 dragonw218


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Beautiful flow!! I'd love to hear the rest. You write very well! The format was just a bit hard to look at, so maybe try fixing that?

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on July 16, 2010
Last Updated on July 16, 2010