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Sloan's Story part 2 - Rich Sloan, Poor Sloan, Beggar Sloan...


jfraser

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Sloan walked with fuming abandon. Her rage filled her, blinded her, emptied her of thought or volition. She moved on instinct, weaving through the crowded market without seeing a thing. It wasn't until the sun slipped behind the stone walls and twilight began to take hold of the city that she came to her senses.

 

She slumped onto a bench and watched the people pass by. They all had places to be, things to do. She only had the clothes on her back and a little pouch of...

 

Shit.

 

She patted her belt with growing desperation, then stood and looked around. The pouch with the money was gone - only a piece of the leather strap that had tied it to her belt was left.

 

"No. No! Nonononono..."

 

She cast desperate eyes all around her, knowing the practice was futile but unable to stop herself. The pouch, of course, did not magically appear.

 

So. Alone in a city with no money and no prospects. She covered her face with her hands and expected tears, but her eyes remained dry. A lifetime of tears had left her empty of them. She needed a job, some way of making money. She would spend as little as possible, save as much as she could, hire a carriage to Windhelm, check on Avi. Assuming he was okay, she could then try to find...

 

 

...her family.

 

The very word sent a shiver through her body, a faint tingle she didn't recognize - she had never had reason to feel hope before, and it played an alien chord along the keys of her spine.

 

With this skeleton of a plan formed, she stood. The only place she could think of that might hire her and offer her a place to stay, even if it were only a blanket by the fire, was the tavern she had just rushed away from. She retraced her steps.

 

Ten minutes later she left the inn feeling worse than ever. The Argonian innkeeper had made no attempt to hide her contempt at the idea of hiring an "ignorant wisp of a girl." The entire room had heard the exchange, and she had fled the laughter while fighting back more tears that never materialized.

 

She meandered through the narrow streets without paying much attention to her surroundings. It was only when the sun finished its descent behind the hills and the shadows melded together to form a darkness only broken by a few lamps and the wide starry heavens above that she shook herself from her reverie. She didn't recognize her surroundings, but this discovery didn't instill much concern, first because it didn't really matter where she was, but more because the path to the central plaza of the city was always easy to find. If one wasn't within sight of the old canal that cut the city into two halves, the pervasive stench emanating from the canal was more than enough to point the way. Though she had never stepped foot outside the tiny walled courtyard behind the orphanage, she knew the smell well, and Grelod had told them about it. Specifically, she had made sure they all knew that Beggar's Row was situated on the lower level of the canal, close enough to the rank water that it sometimes flooded. Sloan had always wondered why Grelod had made such of point of mentioning this information - now she felt she knew.

 

Her stomach grumbled and she clutched at it with both hands. While life in the orphanage had been rough, at least they had eaten twice a day. Her plans to go to Windhelm and to find her parents seemed distant hopes - before she could think about such extravagances, she needed money just to get a single crust of bread.

 

"Here ya go."

 

The voice came and went before Sloan could determine its source, but she noticed the penny that fell to the ground in front of her. It gleamed in the last stolen light of the sun like a wink. She bent and picked it up, studied its worn face. The relief of some long gone noble seemed to watch her, studying her intentions. This is who you are, the noble seemed to say. This is who you will always be. Learn to accept it.

 

"No." The word slipped out of her mouth in a whisper so low she wasn't sure if she had really said. Still, its sentiment remained. She said it again, this time loud enough that she was certain she had spoken.

 

"No!"

 

Her life was just beginning. She'd be damned if it would be spent wallowing in gutters hoping for enough of a handout to get enough to eat. She dropped the penny and stomped away.

 

A moment later, she returned and picked it up. She was not in a position to be wasting money.

 

Next Chapter

 

Start at the Beginning

Edited by jfraser

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