Bound by Law aka the law compels them to marry story
Sunday, June 26th, 2011 08:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tsaikoFirst section for the story I'm writing in response to the poll I did when I traveled to Seattle. Just to give you a taste of what's to come now that I've finally, finally moved all my stories onto the Netbook.
The group jumped Tarquin on one of the side streets, where the lighting wasn't bad so much as indifferent. It surprised Tarquin, to say the least. One, he was the only wizard in town and so people tended not to mess with him because of it. Two, except for Shax and the odd lost tourist, no one came to town so it wasn't like there were a whole lot of outsides. Three, it wasn't like this was the bad side of town. There was no bad side of town. Kamptun wasn't large enough to have a bad side of town.
All this flashed through Tarquin's mind in the split second it took for the men to surround him. There were three of them in total, which didn't do much for his peace of mind but did make him feel somewhat… proud? Mollified? Three against one meant that, wizard or not, no one would blame him for not winning. Tarquin was resigned to getting hit before the sudden surge of adrenaline took over and he remembered that he was no longer the dorky kid from high school who just took the beatings given to him.
As soon as one of them touched him, blind instinct took over. Tarquin was all knees and elbows. Shax had once tried to teach him how to fight, but most of the lessons had gone over his head. Even if they had stuck, Tarquin wouldn't have remembered them. He never was good in a crisis.
In the end, the only reason Tarquin didn't throw a fire spell at them was that the sunlight caught on Marans's glasses and he recognized them. He knew who was attacking him. Ancon and Marans, the youngest of the Oan brothers, and Vercinge Gallen, who was the town sheriff. That hesitation was his undoing. As Ancon pushed him down to the sidewalk, he realized he should have just done it.
"What are you doing?" Tarquin demanded. He would have liked the words to come out strong and sure. Defiant even. Instead, they sounded alarmingly high pitched. "Get off me."
"Can't do that," Marans replied. He was breathing hard himself, and Tarquin hoped it was from fear and not because his elbow had managed to catch Marans in the face and split his lip. Ancon was sitting on his legs and Vercinge – what did the man think he was doing getting involved in the Oan brother's antics? – was holding his arms. He felt ice cold metal close around his wrists and then his powers were gone.
"Blockers are illegal," Tarquin spat. No good could come of this.
"Yep," Vercinge agreed. As soon as they were on, Vercinge got up and brushed the dirt off the knees of his pants. He was in uniform. There should be some sort of law against breaking the law while in uniform. "Necessary evil, though. Can't have you turning us into pigs or anything."
"Frogs," Tarquin corrected. Ancon got off his legs and hauled him to his feet. His knees felt bruised and his ankle bothered him a bit, but otherwise everything seemed okay. Not too much damage. Or maybe the adrenaline was keeping him from realized how hurt he was. That was one of the side effects of adrenaline.
Even though no one asked, Tarquin explained. "Pigs are too much work and everyone in town would wonder where they came from. No one would notice three more frogs. I'd make sure you were extra warty too. Free of charge."
"That's right nice of you to offer, but I think I'll pass," Vercinge replied, letting his Southern drawl become even more pronounced than usual. He even touched the brim of his hat, like this was some sort of joke. "Besides, we don't have the time. We got to get you to see the Priest. Can't be late."
If Ancon and Marans hadn't been dragging him, Tarquin would have frozen. As it was, he felt panic begin to gnaw at his stomach. Ulcers. His doctor was going to kill him. "Why are we going to see the Priest?"
"It's your wedding day," Marans said in his ear. Tarquin couldn't see it, but he would bet his last drop of werewolf blood that Marans was smirking. Now he wished he'd hit Marans harder. Preferably in the nuts. "Congratulations."
"I am not getting married," Tarquin said. Panic. Definitely panicking. The last time he'd was married it had taken him five years of abuse before he'd finally decided he'd had enough. Tarquin was not going through that again. "I refuse. I won't do it."
He tried to dig in his heels, but Ancon and Marans just lifted him off the ground. Damn farm boys. Tarquin whispered ineffectual curses under his breath and tried to struggle. That just made them both hold onto him hard enough to bruise.
"Don't be like that, Tarq," Ancon said. Tarquin gritted his teeth and tried to kick him. Ancon grunted when it connected, but still kept a firm grip on him. "I got you a wedding gift and everything. It would be a shame to return it."
Now, Tarquin wished he had hit Ancon instead of Marans. Hell, he wished he'd done more than a few bruises and a bloodied lip. Frogs were too good. He should have thrown that fireball when he had a change.
"You can't do this." Tarquin felt stupid even saying it. Of course they could do this. This wasn't some place like Shax's country, where marriage was voluntary and the people involved had to be willing. Here, if someone didn't go willingly, all it took was three witnesses willing to say under oath that the couple was married in all but name.
Oh shit.
Shax stayed at his place, sometimes for days at a time, when he was in town instead of going to the room he rented from Hadda. He did the shopping when Tarquin was working on a spell and sometimes lent Tarquin money when he was starving because he'd spent all his money on getting a rare ingredient. The only person he'd slept with in the last two years was Shax.
Those were the three requirements. Sharing home, sharing finances, and sharing bodies. And because the entire town was a bunch of busybodies, everyone knew they'd been doing so. Tarquin was willing to bet half the town had been fighting to be called as witnesses to verify this.
All the color drained from Tarquin's face. "You can't do this, Vercinge. Shax isn't from our country. Things are done differently where he comes from. You can't make him marry me." What would it be like to have something like marriage forced on you when in you culture it was a choice? "Please, Vercinge."
"You know I can't do that Tarquin." Vercinge set his jaw in that way that fairly screamed 'I'm doing thing for your own good.' "I've already let this go too long. It's been three years since you divorced and almost two years since you started seeing that foreigner. Legally, I should have done this after you'd been unmarried for a year. I wanted to give you some time. Time's up."
In a way, Tarquin understood. Vercinge had given him more time than was legal to get over his marriage to Beilen, even though if anyone outside the village had found out he would be in trouble as well as Tarquin. Probably bigger trouble that Tarquin. The worse they could do to him was fine him every day he remained single, especially given his past history. Vercinge would have gone to jail.
He still needed time. Tarquin couldn't do this. He couldn't do this to Shax. And if it wasn't required by law for everyone of marriageable age to be married within a year of their divorce from another, he wouldn't be doing this.
"What would Caia say?" It was a last, desperate attempt to stop this by mentioning Vercinge's wife. It failed.
"Hell, boy, Caia is at the community center right now cooking enough food to feed a small army so that you can have something approaching a real wedding feast." Vercinge laughed. "I'd say she'd approve."
Tarquin was doomed.
The group jumped Tarquin on one of the side streets, where the lighting wasn't bad so much as indifferent. It surprised Tarquin, to say the least. One, he was the only wizard in town and so people tended not to mess with him because of it. Two, except for Shax and the odd lost tourist, no one came to town so it wasn't like there were a whole lot of outsides. Three, it wasn't like this was the bad side of town. There was no bad side of town. Kamptun wasn't large enough to have a bad side of town.
All this flashed through Tarquin's mind in the split second it took for the men to surround him. There were three of them in total, which didn't do much for his peace of mind but did make him feel somewhat… proud? Mollified? Three against one meant that, wizard or not, no one would blame him for not winning. Tarquin was resigned to getting hit before the sudden surge of adrenaline took over and he remembered that he was no longer the dorky kid from high school who just took the beatings given to him.
As soon as one of them touched him, blind instinct took over. Tarquin was all knees and elbows. Shax had once tried to teach him how to fight, but most of the lessons had gone over his head. Even if they had stuck, Tarquin wouldn't have remembered them. He never was good in a crisis.
In the end, the only reason Tarquin didn't throw a fire spell at them was that the sunlight caught on Marans's glasses and he recognized them. He knew who was attacking him. Ancon and Marans, the youngest of the Oan brothers, and Vercinge Gallen, who was the town sheriff. That hesitation was his undoing. As Ancon pushed him down to the sidewalk, he realized he should have just done it.
"What are you doing?" Tarquin demanded. He would have liked the words to come out strong and sure. Defiant even. Instead, they sounded alarmingly high pitched. "Get off me."
"Can't do that," Marans replied. He was breathing hard himself, and Tarquin hoped it was from fear and not because his elbow had managed to catch Marans in the face and split his lip. Ancon was sitting on his legs and Vercinge – what did the man think he was doing getting involved in the Oan brother's antics? – was holding his arms. He felt ice cold metal close around his wrists and then his powers were gone.
"Blockers are illegal," Tarquin spat. No good could come of this.
"Yep," Vercinge agreed. As soon as they were on, Vercinge got up and brushed the dirt off the knees of his pants. He was in uniform. There should be some sort of law against breaking the law while in uniform. "Necessary evil, though. Can't have you turning us into pigs or anything."
"Frogs," Tarquin corrected. Ancon got off his legs and hauled him to his feet. His knees felt bruised and his ankle bothered him a bit, but otherwise everything seemed okay. Not too much damage. Or maybe the adrenaline was keeping him from realized how hurt he was. That was one of the side effects of adrenaline.
Even though no one asked, Tarquin explained. "Pigs are too much work and everyone in town would wonder where they came from. No one would notice three more frogs. I'd make sure you were extra warty too. Free of charge."
"That's right nice of you to offer, but I think I'll pass," Vercinge replied, letting his Southern drawl become even more pronounced than usual. He even touched the brim of his hat, like this was some sort of joke. "Besides, we don't have the time. We got to get you to see the Priest. Can't be late."
If Ancon and Marans hadn't been dragging him, Tarquin would have frozen. As it was, he felt panic begin to gnaw at his stomach. Ulcers. His doctor was going to kill him. "Why are we going to see the Priest?"
"It's your wedding day," Marans said in his ear. Tarquin couldn't see it, but he would bet his last drop of werewolf blood that Marans was smirking. Now he wished he'd hit Marans harder. Preferably in the nuts. "Congratulations."
"I am not getting married," Tarquin said. Panic. Definitely panicking. The last time he'd was married it had taken him five years of abuse before he'd finally decided he'd had enough. Tarquin was not going through that again. "I refuse. I won't do it."
He tried to dig in his heels, but Ancon and Marans just lifted him off the ground. Damn farm boys. Tarquin whispered ineffectual curses under his breath and tried to struggle. That just made them both hold onto him hard enough to bruise.
"Don't be like that, Tarq," Ancon said. Tarquin gritted his teeth and tried to kick him. Ancon grunted when it connected, but still kept a firm grip on him. "I got you a wedding gift and everything. It would be a shame to return it."
Now, Tarquin wished he had hit Ancon instead of Marans. Hell, he wished he'd done more than a few bruises and a bloodied lip. Frogs were too good. He should have thrown that fireball when he had a change.
"You can't do this." Tarquin felt stupid even saying it. Of course they could do this. This wasn't some place like Shax's country, where marriage was voluntary and the people involved had to be willing. Here, if someone didn't go willingly, all it took was three witnesses willing to say under oath that the couple was married in all but name.
Oh shit.
Shax stayed at his place, sometimes for days at a time, when he was in town instead of going to the room he rented from Hadda. He did the shopping when Tarquin was working on a spell and sometimes lent Tarquin money when he was starving because he'd spent all his money on getting a rare ingredient. The only person he'd slept with in the last two years was Shax.
Those were the three requirements. Sharing home, sharing finances, and sharing bodies. And because the entire town was a bunch of busybodies, everyone knew they'd been doing so. Tarquin was willing to bet half the town had been fighting to be called as witnesses to verify this.
All the color drained from Tarquin's face. "You can't do this, Vercinge. Shax isn't from our country. Things are done differently where he comes from. You can't make him marry me." What would it be like to have something like marriage forced on you when in you culture it was a choice? "Please, Vercinge."
"You know I can't do that Tarquin." Vercinge set his jaw in that way that fairly screamed 'I'm doing thing for your own good.' "I've already let this go too long. It's been three years since you divorced and almost two years since you started seeing that foreigner. Legally, I should have done this after you'd been unmarried for a year. I wanted to give you some time. Time's up."
In a way, Tarquin understood. Vercinge had given him more time than was legal to get over his marriage to Beilen, even though if anyone outside the village had found out he would be in trouble as well as Tarquin. Probably bigger trouble that Tarquin. The worse they could do to him was fine him every day he remained single, especially given his past history. Vercinge would have gone to jail.
He still needed time. Tarquin couldn't do this. He couldn't do this to Shax. And if it wasn't required by law for everyone of marriageable age to be married within a year of their divorce from another, he wouldn't be doing this.
"What would Caia say?" It was a last, desperate attempt to stop this by mentioning Vercinge's wife. It failed.
"Hell, boy, Caia is at the community center right now cooking enough food to feed a small army so that you can have something approaching a real wedding feast." Vercinge laughed. "I'd say she'd approve."
Tarquin was doomed.
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Date: 6/27/11 05:09 am (UTC)