Waffle Dreams, Part 1: Batter Up

Waffle Dreams, Part 4: Bruised and Battered

Waffle Dreams

Part 4: Bruised and Battered

The red liquid in the vial was thin and watery but gave off sweet, fruity scent as Fanny poured it over the warm waffles. Even Brill’s booming voice grew quieter once the sugary aroma wafted in his direction. Fanny watched transfixed as the tinted, shimmering droplets tumbled out of the glass casing and burst onto the waffle’s delicate brown crust, seeping in quickly to create rosy pallor across the pastry.

“That had better be on its way over here now, wench,” called Brill, “And I want a big stack!”

“She’s taking her time with it,” Dunstar grumbled suspiciously. “If this one here convinced you to think someone would be here to rescue you soon, wench, you been misled. There’s no one around these parts, and anyone who walks through that door is dead on sight.”

“There is no one,” said Fanny softly to herself. “No one.” She put a large stack of the fragrant waffles into a large wooden bowel, remembering to set aside a few untouched pastries for Jaqen, should he want them.  She quickly sat the bowl on the table between the two men and stepped aside, holding her breath, and hoping that whatever was supposed to happen would work.

“You can keep me company while I eat,” Brill grunted, quickly grabbing Fanny’s wrist and pulling her onto his lap. He wrapped one meaty arm firmly around her waist, squeezing hard while he shoveled a stack of the waffles into his mouth.

Fanny went limp, a wave of nausea flooding her as the large, sticky crumbs and red juice spilled from his lips and down the back of her neck and chemise. More alarming, however, was the fact that Dunstar had not yet taken a single bite. Fanny winced as Brill’s grip on her tightened with each bite he took.

“Why you not eating?” Dunstar grunted at Jaqen, watching in disgust as his comrade coughed and gasped for air as half a waffle dropped from his mouth.

“A man has manners. A man waits for guests to be served first,” Jaqen smiled, pulling a pale pink colored waffle from the bottom of the stack. “They are better when chewed than swallowed, however.”

Dunstar snorted and gestured at his companion, who was still struggling for air. “Get him some something to drink, quickly!” He glared at Fanny, who was thrashing about, trying to free herself from the burly arm that squeezed her more tightly with each spasm.

“I . . .can’t . . .” Fanny wheezed, grasping the edge of the table and trying to pull herself away from the whistling sound now being emitted by the throat of the man behind her. She wanted to clasp her hands over her ears so she didn’t hear it anymore, but to do so would mean falling back against him and being overcome by the sickeningly sweet smell now pouring forth from his gaping mouth.

And then she was free. Brill lost his grip on her, nearly sending her over the table and onto the floor, gulping the air. Both Dunstar and Jaqen sat with their eyes glued to Brill, however, the big man’s face and bald pate now as crimson as his uniform. His eyes bulged, and the veins in his neck throbbed purple and black as he toppled from his chair, landing with a thud on the ground near Fanny.

“Idiot!” Dunstar bellowed, though Fanny was not sure who he addressed. She skittered away as he nearly trampled her in his sudden haste to get around the table. He kneeled at Brill’s side, but once there, he seemed unsure as to how to proceed, rolling the flailing man over and slapping at his back even as the Brill began soundlessly ripping at his own throat.

Fanny blanched as the man’s face turned the color of the blackberries resting upon her shelf. She could only sit paralyzed, watching the scene before her, feeling all the while as if she were a thousand miles removed from the man dying on the floor in front of her. There was one last twitch, a final shudder, and then all was silent.