One That Got Away

Chapter 8

Thorin followed Mara down the block and climbed into the cab she called without asking any questions. She was breathing heavily and her eyes had that look. The same look she always got when she had just let loose her full fury on him and was angry about it. Only as the cab took to the air and he braced himself on the leather seat did she grimace and cover her eyes, shaking slightly. Thorin pulled her against his side and let her cry into his shoulder.

"Where we goin'?" asked the driver. It was a woman. Thorin had no clue what to say.

"The closest...bar," he said and the cabby nodded. "Mara, my gem, look at me," he whispered and she peered up at him. "You don't have to cry. You never need cry again." She laughed softly and shifted slightly so she could lean on him but wasn't hiding in his coat.

"Because you'll take care of me?"

"Mara, I've known you long enough to know you don't need taking care of. I'll just be right behind you. I'll have your back and be there to help pick up the pieces when we're done," he promised and she pressed closer to him.

"Thank you for finding me, Thorin. I'm glad you did," she said softly.

"So am I," he whispered and fiddled idly with her wavy blue hair. Braiding it over night had an amazing effect on the blue curls and he rather liked it. The cab stopped and Mara handed her money.

"Cheers," said the woman and Mara followed Thorin out of the cab.

"What-why are we at Star Fox?" demanded Mara.

"I didn't know where you wanted to go. I said the nearest bar," Thorin apologized. Mara smiled and took his hand.

"That's cool. Let's just walk. I need to book our next gig anyway," she said. As they walked Thorin tried to fathom what was happening around him. People were dressed oddly, like in mail and jewels, but in the oddest fashion. He had to constantly avert his eyes so as not to impeach the honor of women as they passed. It wasn't that he was interested, but when a woman walks by with that much skin showing in that many places, you tend to notice. As it was, he didn't look that out of place in his fur and wool coat. Mara eventually dragged him into a bar and asked him to wait.

It was wood inside, but everything was covered in instruments and round black things, like decorations. They all looked the same and all had Westron writing on them. He didn't bother unravelling the curious words, but waited by the low bar where Mara left him. A few people in modest black clothes were cleaning tables and setting chairs up around the room, but a stage on the opposite side caught his eye. There were large, black boxes with wire mesh on one side sitting on it and long back ropes draped about, but he didn't see the point of it.

Mara was arguing with a man in silver clothes with spiky green hair. It stuck up in the air nearly a foot and he was covered in silver dust, smeared over his face and on his hands, as if he was made of starlight. Mara suddenly pointed at the stage and then jabbed his chest angrily. He glared and raised one hand as if to strike Mara across the face. Thorin stood straight and got ready to charge over and kill the man but Mara slapped him first, so hard he staggered into a table and fell to the floor. Thorin flinched. He had been on the receiving end of her slaps before. It wasn't fun. He jogged over anyway, to make sure she was okay.

"Alright, fine. Tomorrow night at seven. Twenty bucks a song and an extra fifty for your silence," hissed the silver man. Mara crossed her arms and glared at him. "And I'll keep your name quiet," grumbled the man. She helped him up and he fixed his sleeves. "I'd say it was a pleasure, but...well."

"As always Felix, a fucking delight," she said icily and grabbed Thorin's hand. She tugged him from the bar and into the streets. "Twenty bucks a song, ha. He's lucky I didn't neuter him. Twenty bucks a song. What is he crazy?" snarled Mara angrily. Thorin gave her a flat look and she sighed. "Yeah, yeah. What's a buck, why is twenty bad and what was that. The sort of music my band plays is frowned upon by the government. It's not illegal, but clubs and bars have been known to be causally raided by po'bo's and performers tend to go missing. Basically anything that doesn't come from a remix or a computer is rebellious and should be stopped."