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autumnbrambleagain · 1 year

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Yhelm P10 - readmore for full

It was Big Girl Serious Time. If only mom could see her now, standing in the parlor of one of the city's crime bosses, holding a prisoner on a chain of solid Law. A trusted enforcer! Aren't you proud, mom. Be proud, mom.

Belham Pio, Boss of the Guild of Porters and Fishermen, was a dead, which meant he was a spooky skeleton-ghost and was born that way. He'd leaned hard into the theme. His parlor was dimly-lit, lined with unsettling portraits, peeling wallpaper, and carefully-maintained cobwebs. Bookcases where if you actually leaned in to read them the titles were all like "100 Methods of Torture." The windows were clouded over and the rain drummed dully outside.

Dead don't eat food, they eat fear, and the parlor was built to give Belham a snack every time someone had to talk to him in it. Right now he was probably gorging on poor Lastsong. The gaitsbird had lost any sense of bravado, drawn up behind all her wings and just barely peeking out. Madrigal was on the opposite side of her, their scarf animate and coiled in the air like a serpent. Not that Lastsong needed to be threatened with decapitation-by-scarf to keep her frightened and entirely miserable.

To be fair. It was bad.

The room was packed. Besides Yhelm, Madrigal, and their prisoner/workfriend Lastsong, there was a cultivar in a neat little uniform hunched over a desk with a massive book and pen. The Minuteskeeper. Didn't belong to any specific guild, ultimately outranked everyone in the room. Actually a huge deal.

Standing off to the side, wearing a non-descript lawizard suit, the Arbitrator. Even more big a deal. A freeperson (??), rusty reds and yellows. No one in any of the guilds knew who she actually was. She wasn't even guild. She was hired on for things like this and disappeared when she was done. It was Yhelm's first time seeing her, and no one had ever told her about the eyes? The Arbitrator's eyes were wrong.

Several enforcers from other guilds, too, lined up behind Yhelm and helping to keep Lastsong from running and showing everyone how tough they were. Posturing. Yhelm and Madrigal were posturing the hardest, though, since this was their home turf. Yhelm had her rain-slicked leather jacket, standing on her hinds, umbrella point in the ground, shoulders squared. Barely moving. Very serious. Everyone behind her? Sloppy. No discipline. Thugs versus someone with a degree. She'd always win.

At Belham's desk, three guild bosses, in the same room, behind the same desk, crammed together in the same corner.

Belham Pio, in his red robe and ghostly flames. Yhelm's boss. Lastsong's boss. The one losing face from his underling attacking another guild member in a third guild's tavern.

"Right," Belham said. "I suppose we can get this formally started."

Jalis Salt-on-the-Shore Mondegreen was here, a tiny adversary with goat-fox stylings. She was short enough she had to stand on her chair to see over the desk, and she was standing on several books too, just to make sure she was taller than the other two. She was in layers of mantles and dresses that were apparently the fashion wherever she came from. Guild of Brick Layers and Ditch Diggers boss.

"Let's start! I'm not here for the decor! Or the refreshments. Are there refreshments?"

Graveflower 5054-13-LangberryFunerary had the third seat. He was a cultivar. His dour wooden face was framed in the petals of a massive black flower that grew out of his stem/chest like an oversized collar. Yhelm barely knew anything about him other than his being the boss of Guild of Lamp Lighters and Wood Cutters.

"… by the charter of 3497 we convene this trial to decide the punishment of gopaf Lastsong." The Minutekeeper's pen scratched as he spoke. "Does guild defending protest innocence?"

Belham laughed. Absolutely no one could beat him for evil laugh, Argent preserve. "No, Hartlight's ass no. The only reason I'm having you all drip rainwater on my parlor is so we all agree I'm punishing her squares and pairs."

"Very well," Graveflower said. "For the record," with a nod to the other cultivar, the Minutekeeper, "gopaf Lastong is accused of near-fatally injuring gollawc Pyrene and disrupting the business of gobladd tavern Betcher's Ales. Guilt is taken for, punishment pending. As aggrieved with priority, I place execution."

Lastsong ducked entirely behind the shields of her wings, as if that would save her. Fuck. Yhelm was starting to feel bad. Maybe this was a bad job. Maybe she didn't want mom to see her here. She pinged Madrigal through Love.

♥Hey I feel really bad about this,♥ she sent.

♥No kidding. They're always going to start high and bargain down though.♥

♥Right, sure,♥ Yhelm sent, ♥but do you ever get the feeling we're the bad guys?♥

Madrigal risked giving her a look over Lastsong's trembling head. ♥Your jacket says Trouble on the back.♥

♥Okay, sure, but--♥

Madrigal interrupted. ♥This is one of the unfun parts of the life. Meadoe's sake it's why my sisters are barely involved in guild.♥

♥Why are you? So involved in guild?♥ Yhelm sent. Outside of their Love, Belham and the other two bosses were debating Lastsong's life. Yhelm tried to not pay too close attention.

♥Money,♥ Madrigal sent. ♥It's not like I have a lot of skills.♥

♥That's not true.♥

♥Not a lot of legitimate skills. I have our family's martial style with the scarf, I have some Encore cred. I never learned something useful like they did. This is all I'm good for.♥

♥Don't listen to my mom. You're worth more than your marketability.♥

♥I'm dragging you down to bad places with me, Yhelm. You should really get out.♥

♥Uh. No. This is what your life is, Maddie, and I'm a part of your life. That's my choice. I'll fight you.♥

It was getting hard to focus on Maddie. The bosses' debate kept using terrible words and the other enforcers behind Yhelm were shuffling uncomfortably and the Minutekeeper's pen was zooming along at a speed the suggested he was using some kind of power. Lastsong was warbling. It was getting hard to pretend this away. This was happening. From what Yhelm could gather, the current sentence was torture, although undefined, and Jalis kept pressing for rape. Like, not even using a classy euphemism for it just outright saying someone should probably rape Lastsong.

Belham raised a bony hoof just as Jalis was describing cloacal tearing. "Arbitrator please."

The room went quiet and cold. The Arbitrator had just, been leaning on the wall, watching. Was she not blinking? Why did it feel like she wasn't blinking? Slowly, she stepped off the wall, and approached the desk. Her voice had a flavor like expensive but hard liquor. "There was no sexual assault in Lastsong's crime. Introducing sex in the punishment would require more expensive abstractive calculations. It's also disgusting."

Jalis snarled like she was going to say something but crossed her arms and huffed instead. Belham blew a raspberry with his weird ghost-fire tongue at her.

"You want balance restored," the Arbitrator continued, now owning the entire room with her quiet growl. "Pay her violence with violence."

Belham sighed. His entire body's flames flared like a bellows was in his chest. "Yes, we've got that much. The problem is how do you look at a beating and say 'Ah, now that's a good lawful beating.' How many times do I hit her with a tableleg to make up for it? Is her noggin off-limits? How many broken bones pays back someone trying to dig out your guts, yeah? What if I give her one a bit too hard am I in trouble now or can I sue these jerks for it?"

Okay the Arbitrator was definitely not blinking. Yhelm could feel the other enforcers around her deflate. "I'll quantify the harm caused to the victim and set her punishment to that value. Is anyone here a friend of the victim? Have them 'go at it.' That will be your emotional catharsis too. Feel the bad vibes fade away. All becomes… squares and pairs."

"Right right and what if when the friend has an accident and oops she's dead?" Belham asked.

"My Law will stop them from inflicting any harm in excess of what the victim suffered. They can 'let loose' without fear. When the limit's reached they'll be unable to harm her further."

Yhelm thought a second. <3Huh,<3 she sent to Madrigal. <3I wish Bodo was here now actually because I'd love to ask him if Law can do that?<3

♥Can it not?♥ Madrigal sent back.

♥Like, I'm not a lawizard. This is weird though. This all feels really weird. Doesn't her entire everything feel weird?♥

♥I guess?♥

♥… oh shoot is she a breacher? Because this is sounding like a fairy's idea of justice. What do you like, know about her?♥

♥Not much!? I've heard everything from people saying she secretly works for Flyhh to keep us in line, to she's a Law construct that went criminal. You know how guild likes to make stuff up.♥

"Yhelm," Belham Pio said, ordered, loudly. "That will be the deal then! What fun. Please take Lastsong and--who's doing the uh--"

Graveflower pointed to one of his enforcers. "Rebark."

An eager adversary who looked more like a rat than a dog skulked forward, shouldering into Yhelm as he passed.

Belham gave a 'sure whatever' wave of his bony hand. "Yhelm, go find a nice side room for Rebark to wail on Lastsong while the Arbitrator arbitrates non-arbitrarily. What good fun, justice is served."

♥Fuck,♥ Yhelm sent to Madrigal.

♥At least you're not Lastsong,♥ Madrigal sent back.

This sucked.

This probably sucked for Lastsong more than it did for Yhelm, but this still sucked.

Yhelm was now standing outside a heavy, closed door, with only the Arbitrator and Lastsong's crying for company. And the thuds. The dull, heavy thuds of someone taking their long, sweet, enjoyed pleasure in beating her. This was fucked up. Why was it taking so long? Was it taking so long? How much of a beating equalled being stabbed near-to-death?

Fuck. Yhelm couldn't lose her cool. She was ON and three guilds were watching. This wasn't even a pride thing, this was a the-example-of-what-happens-if-you-fuck-up-was-happening-in-the-room-behind-her thing. Fuck.

"So he can't accidentally kill her?" Yhelm asked, just to say something, just to make noise over the sound of Lastsong's crying.

The Arbitrator hadn't been paying attention to Yhelm. A Law-shaped scroll was burning in the air before her, flooding with writing that made Yhelm's eyes go funny when she looked at it. Apparently it was how she was keeping track of the quantifiable harm done to Lastsong. Which was weird. Which wasn't how Law ever worked from everything she'd read. This was closer to Authority? Maybe? She wished she could ask Bodo about this without telling him 'I know you think I'm some kind of villain, but I'm really not, but anyway my gang was beating someone up as punishment and--'

The Arbitrator was looking right at her now though. Her eyes. A freeperson should have round, maybe slightly horizontal, pupils. An adversary should have scattered, broken pupils. These were just. Narrow black slits, set in yellow. They weren't right.

"Ah," she said, her voice always hovering just below a growl. "Yes. My Law will stop s'ent Rebark from exceeding the established value of harm inflicted on s'ent Pyrene."

"Right," Yhelm agreed. She had to play up the role. She had to lose herself in the role. There was a terrible CRACK and Lastsong shrieked and no she couldn't stay cool how the fuck could she stay cool during this!? "What if he goes all out in one hit? Tries to kill her? Or what if he does something that isn't bad now but later she--"

"It cannot happen in any way other than how I allow it to happen."

"Right," Yhelm said, convinced in the way where you're sure the expert knows what they're talking about but you still can't imagine how it works like that.

It'd been anywhere from half a minute to three hours, so far, Yhelm guessed. The guilds were formed millenia ago as labor unions, as organizations to control the jobs staffed by the lowest classes, both to keep them from falling into true lawlessness and to allow them to bargain with power. They'd been an institution for millenia, in this city created the moment time began, they were an ancient tradition, thousands of perfectly normal people were guild and did zero crimes at all, and even the crimes the guild did were more navigating around loopholes, collective bargaining, smuggling, petty pickpocketing or theft, she knew the history and she kept telling herself it as she listened to someone she knew be beaten in increasingly deeper, wetter thuds that sounded so loud even with a door between her and it.

"Fuck," she groaned to herself. She couldn't keep her cool. She'd lost it completely. Bad Boy forgive her.

"You're really worried about her?" the Arbitrator asked.

Gah, fuck, she was staring right at Yhelm again. "Uh. She's. A work-friend. I know she fucked up big, but it's one thing to say that, and another to stand out here and listen to it."

The Arbitrator smiled. It was this, wrong, smile. She had too many teeth? "It is a shame. People can be very… thankless. 'The World was made in Love' the Rose Knights say? But here we are."

Yhelm took the risk. Anything was better than the noises behind them. "So. Do you, disapprove?”

The Arbitrator mm’d an agreement.

“Why do you do it then?"

The Arbitrator's smile widened. "Why do you do it then? Why do you put yourself through it? Why--with all the choices you have in life--did you choose this?"

"Fuck I mean that's…"

"Personal," the Arbitrator finished.

"I was gonna say the big question," Yhelm said. "My partner's guild. We were just talking about that. Ultimately, this is their life--it's mine too."

"Mm," the Arbitrator said. She turned back to the scroll.

No, no no, she couldn't go back to listening to hearing it. "Are you uh. So. You can stop me if I'm some dumb low-level enforcer overstepping my place, okay?"

"I'll hold you to that," the Arbitrator said quietly.

"… right. Okay. Yeah. So you're a breacher, right?"

The Arbitrator wasn't really doing anything, but she still froze up. She stopped breathing, and she actually, finally, blinked, which Yhelm realized she hadn't been doing at all. "You know. You aren't the first to think that. You're the first to say it to me? Directly?"

"Is it--" Yhelm juggled the words wrong and rude in her head and what came out was, "wrongde?"

The Arbitrator sighed. "The guilds summon me from the Moon when they have a case for me."

"Huh, all right. Is that, is that a secret you want me to keep?" Yhelm offered.

The Arbitrator smiled and this time it--it looked less wrong and just more kind of sad. "What was it that gave it away to you?"

"Uh. I mean. Well." Fuck. Maybe it would be better to listen to the sound of Lastsong--no, nevermind, she could hear it, nevermind. "Honestly it was your Law being weird."

"My Law…"

"Yeah. This… arrangement works well for what we need, I guess. But it's sort of. Do. Do you know how I mean? It's not something I could expect normal Law to do? Traditionally Law isn't just the enforcement of authority that's Authority they're both derived from Red Aiax but they're different, on an, elemental level. Laws differ in different countries and organizations but there's still primal Law and the only Law I know that is just, sheer enforcement of any kind of contract is, well, theoretically I don't have direct experience with it but I learned about it in college, is breacher Law."

The Arbitrator looked almost surprised, almost impressed, if any emotion at all could fit on her severe, mask-like face. "You aren't dumb. But was there really nothing else to hint at it?"

She couldn't really lie to a breacher that wasn't safe, right? "… well, your eyes are wrong. But if it wasn't for the Law… well, you could just have had weird eyes. So it's kind of both together that--"

"I don't," the Arbitrator started. She looked back to the scrolling Law in front of her. "I don't try very hard when the Flyhhnemonia guilds summon me. Everyone wants me to play the role of aloof… mysterious… powerful… dangerous stranger. I can lose myself in that role and… forget."

"I think I follow? When I’m back there with all the eyes on me it’s easy to be Guild Enforcer instead of, me. I guess for you if everyone's already expecting you're something weird, so it's easy to let your disguise--"

"No," the Arbitrator interrupted. "It's not letting a disguise slip. It's… forgetting to be myself. I don't always want to be a breacher. Sometimes I like to play pretend… and think I am a freeperson."

"Oh." What.

"You don't know how much I envy you. The world was made for you, Yhelm Machato," Yhelm scrambled to remember if her last name had been said or if the breacher had just pulled that out of the air, "and your gods are still living. We are an ill-fitting virus begot of a dead king who never lived to see the world's birth. The world was made in Love, for you, and for Lastsong, and all the rest of you. And look at how… frivolously you waste all of it. We breachers turn on one another because we were made to. Our Father is dead and he never secured a place for us but through deceit and spite, what else can we be? But you all. Your parents made this world out of Love for you and you summon invaders from before time to referee your torture of one another. Everywhere else on this world I pretend to be a freeperson and pretend--just, pretend as best as I can that I belong here. Because that's the real joke of it. All of you belong here--and you're just as bad as we are on the Moon. That's why I always come when the guilds summon me. It's so--hilarious!"

She said hilarious, but the Arbitrator's Very Wrong Eyes were wet with tears.

Oooh man, Yhelm thought. Smalltalk was a bad idea. Listening to Lastsong was probably better. "I--I don't think--"

"It's done," the Arbitrator said, suddenly, her voice falling back to that deeper, smoother, aloof, terrible thing it had been before. "That's the limit. He can't do anything else. S'ent Lastsong will want medical attention. There are some broken bones. Yhelm?"

"Y-yeah."

The Arbitrator's eyes were dry now, and they were--deeply wrong. There were too many of them. That was the problem. She had four—six—three—eyes. Had that always been the problem? They imposed over one another in a dizzying blur like Yhelm's glasses had gone real bad, real fast. "If you told anyone about this conversation, or my true nature, that would be a dumb low-level enforcer overstepping her place, and I will stop you."

Fuck. "Okay," Yhelm said quietly.

With a wave of her paw, the Arbitrator dismissed the Law construct hanging in the air. "I hope you figure out what you want from this world before it's too late for you. Please don't take it for granted."

"I'm--honestly doing my best," Yhelm said.

"Promise?" the Arbitrator asked.

You should probably never, ever promise anything to a breacher, Yhelm reflected, as she said, "Promise."

#autumn writes things #autumn draws things #series tag yhelm #yhelm 10 #fiction #writing #i still dont know how to tag this

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