Kibeth's Sending

She tried once, and she summoned him. So why couldn't she do it a second time? After all...she was the Disreputable Dog.

Lirael & Disreputable Dog

Genre/s: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T

She looked at the little soapstone statuette in her hands for what was possibly the hundredth time in just a few days. Once, what seemed like an age ago, she had held the same figure in her hands, and for her longing for a companion in the world of the Clayr wherein she was an outsider and alone, she had attempted to create a sending, and in doing so, created her.

Things became better with a friend, even if her answers tended to be frustrating at times, her quirks for human food as opposed to need rather off-putting when she had finally realised, and her longing for walks and adventures tended to get her too close to certain situations than she would have liked.

Of course, all that paled in comparison to the final journey they had shared together, all the way from the Clayr's glacier upon Finder to the binding and breaking of Orranis...where she took the price of breaking the last of the bright-shiners away from the appointed Abhorsen-in-Waiting and walked into death.

The statue had been left behind, and once Sam had made her another hand, as gold as the Disreputable Dog had promised Nick, she set about working on another sending.

Only, interruptions kept the work from being completed.

It seemed pointless, in a way. The Disreputable Dog had entered the river of death, and possibly passed through the ninth gate and away from the realm of the living forever. Any sending in her image would not be the same.

But as Nick had told, both her and Sameth, the Dog had brought him back, giving him a late baptism to balance the free magic in his body. As he recounted her words: she was the Disreputable Dog. And she knew the Dog still watched over her.

There was hope that she could come back.

And one day, she would have the opportunity she needed to complete the sending. If unsuccessful...there were many other ways they would be reunited.

She was no longer an outsider. She had her place, her friends, her family, her title.

She could wait for a meeting. But the soapstone statuette in her hand told her at least that it was, in the end, inevitable.

Where it began...and where it could begin, again.

And why not? After all, she was the Disreputable Dog.