Bad Things Happen Bingo fill #1 Prompt: Go Through Me Requested by: @chaos-before-the-storm, and Anonymous Character(s): Crow, the Collector Word count: 619
It was just supposed to be a simple meeting.
Crow stands behind the Collector like always, taking notes and watching the others around the table. Business meetings were always complicated, layered with nuances and references Crow sometimes didn’t understand. So he had to listen closely, watch body language and write everything down.
Nothing was out of the ordinary. Crow was kept busy with watching, listening, writing, and always being by his master’s side. The meeting ends and Crow closes the book of notes. He knows at least his skills in analyzing his master’s associates valued. The Collector will look over them later.
He’s shaking hands with the men and women from the meeting, a lot of elves, a few important-looking dwarves in business suits from the guilds. There’s one human. Their eyes have never left the Collector for the entire meeting, and Crow is certain there’s something off about them. Who were they and why were they here? Crow’s never forgotten a face and he doesn’t know this one.
The human’s hand keeps twitching, and Crow wonders if it’s some kind of ailment. Maybe an old wound? He twitches from those sometimes.
His master has his back to this human, talking with some of the others. Crow’s watching them discreetly, before realizing what that hand twitching was for. Crow barely has time to realize what’s happening until it’s over. His feet carry him almost on their own accord, throwing himself in between the human’s knife and the Collector’s back.
He feels like someone just punched him in the gut hard. The human looks horrified- the knife was only intended for the Collector. Crow’s clutching on to their wrist, above the handle of the knife, wheezing softly as red slowly started spreading across the front of his crisp white shirt and patterned vest.
There’s people screaming and the sound of guards running but it all kind of fadesinto background noise for Crow. He looks up at the human, brows knitted together, pain clouding his grey eyes. He knows- he has to know-
With trembling fingers he pushes up the sleeve of the stunned would-be assassin. Just as he suspected. The tattoo, the mark of the self named rebels. He was never quite sure what they were rebelling against, but they seemed to burn a lot of factories and other things belonging to his master. This human was a rebel- not the leader of course, but a rebel none the less- trying to kill his master. Well, he had put a stop to that.
The assassin stumbles back, letting go of the knife, leaving it in Crow. They’re immediately seized and dragged away and Crow sways in place- unsure of exactly what to do in this situation. His clothes are ruined and his gut twists in a way that makes him slump to his knees, clutching the knife with a white-knuckled grasp.
There’s a hand on his shoulder and Crow looks up through vision with black spots dancing around. The Collector actually has something that could almost be called a smile on his face. “Look at you. What a terribly brave thing to do.” The gloves hand squeezes his shoulder again, but it’s neither friendly nor comforting. It’s tight, rough. “What did you see? Did they have the mark? Were you watching them?”
Crow nods at each question and glances at the book he dropped. It has all his observations of the people at the meeting in it. He coughs wetly, tasting blood in his mouth, but the Collector’s hand leaves his shoulder and goes to get the book instead. It’s important. Crow is expendable. But the words of approval echo in his mind as he lets unconsciousness take him completely.