The Blind Brother (Peaky Blinders)

Fiddles

(Killian's P.O.V.)
I twirl the small unfinished wooden horse sculpture in my hand, trying to figure out where I had started carving its head. A muzzle, two ears, a neck, there it was. I hold the sculpture tightly in my hand as to not loose my way and grab my wood carving knife. So I can start carving some finer details in the head of the horse. I had picked up wood carving as a hobby when I had began to build my wooden miniature town which would in turn give me a way to navigate Camden Town without being chaparoned by my brothe. And now every once in a while I make a sculpture of an animal or something else. Although I didn't quite understand why I was carving yet another horse. I had carved so many before because it was the first animal I had recreated the most efficiently. The shelf in my office was full of wood horses. From the small arab breeds to the bigger shire breeds. The collection lead to Alfie calling me a hoarder whenever he saw a new addition. A sound behind coming into my otherwise silent office, made me stop carving momentarily, before continueing when I knew who it was. The tapping of the cane against the floorboard gave it away. "Morning, Alfie" I said as I continued carving the face of the horse in the wood. I heard Alfie arrive infront of me and then the silence in my office comes back. "Killian?" I heard my brother tell me, which such a voice that told me he was almost going to lecture me on something, "Alfie?" I asked him bored. "You're bleeding, mate" Alfie stated simply and I heard him pull a chair out to probably sit down, "Am I?" I questioned not really interested in having a conversation with him. "Yes!" he told me and I felt the bottom of his cane being prodded into my stomach. "Get a wet cloth on it or something, that shirt is expensive". I simply shrugged continuing to carve "oh it aint mine, mate" I told him and gestured to the blood mark on my stomach. "Well in that case, leave your jacket wide open and let every one have a good ol' look then". "Will certainly do" I replied shortly and went back to carving, "what the fuck is wrong with you, Kill?! Just pull your jacket together so no one else notices. Blood is bad for business". "I think people will notice your ugly face first. Maybe you should hide that with a potatoe sack or something before they fall dead by pure shock" I answered back and looked to where I believed he was sitting, and showed a sly smirk. Then leaned back into my chair before pulling my coat back further to reveal my chest where my bullet wound was and the blood stain in my shirt. I had not yet bothered taking it off and changing it. "but this. This is my blood" I commented unbothered. There was no responce. "And of course I will blame you for little souvenir" I told him and waved my carving knife to the bullet wound, "you what?" I heard him tell me, daring me to continue to accuse him, "Yeah, because you always have such great plans" I told him sarcastically, "like going for the tracks up North where you told me to go. And may I just say that I especially love the part where I almost bled to death because someone shot me!". "You could've said that in way fewer words, mate" Alfie began. I roll my eyes "here we fucking go" I whispered to myself, "you have too much to say. Right, like you never fucking stop. If you spent as much time running as you run your fucking mouth you would be as fit as a fiddle". I scrunch my face "That doesn't even make sense" I replied, "Its a saying, Kill" Alfie informed me with a sigh, "I know, but it doesn't make sense does it, right. How does a fiddle manage to get fit?", "Killian, you are starting to get on my fucking nerves", "fiddles don't run" I continued, "I'll smash my head into a brick wall if you dont drop the fucking fiddle argument", "go ahead, maybe it'll make you smarter, I doubt it, because you think fiddles can get fit". "It's a fucking saying, goddammit" he replied getting sick with me, I could tell that much, "which is factually incorrect" I answered, "I'm going to fucking strangle you in a minute". I sat in silence before laughing, enjoying how I could rile him up like only a sibling could do. "Besides, I learned to run my mouth from you" I told him and heard him grumble a curse word under his breath directed at me, which of course made me laugh. "Hold on?" I told him now realising he never seemed to show any worry for me getting shot. "I could've died in that shithole called Small Heath and yet your only concern is to talk to me about factual un-fucking correct fit fiddles". I heard silence and assumed he wore an annoyed look on his face, that I once again brought up the fiddles. Or maybe he made strangle gestures at me, which he admitted of having done it before. "Like you would die from a bullet to the chest" he then said and I heard the chair scrape on the ground. Indicating to me he stood up. "Even if you did somehow die. The Devil would kick you back up because you scare him to much". To which I chuckled "aint that the truth". It was silent for a moment untill Alfie asked me a following question. "Found anything interesting, then?". I thought for a moment. Thinking back to my doubt if I was shot by one of the Shelby brother or if it was actually one of the two pricks who dared to follow me. Would I even bother, Alfie with this? I asked myself. "Killy?" Alfie questioned yet again, seemingly wanting to know if I found something. I shook my head as I twirled the wooden horse in my hand, deciding that I was going to find this out on my own. "no" I simply spoke, "nothing at all".

Published: 26th of December 2023