In a land widely known as Aglavar, there was a small village along a travelers path that wound throughout the lands and through the forbidden forest of Wyph. It was a land with an ancient kingdom that had long ago been ripped from prominence in the world through the rule of a mad king. There was magic in the bones of the forest that few dared to face, but over time the people had forgotten what it meant to fear the creatures of magic and darkness. People forgot what it felt like to be afraid, forgot that there was a darkness forever looming over them from a long ago visit from the bowels of hell. Though they didn't know it, there was a power unlike any other in that little village on the side of a travelers road, one that didn't even know what she was, one that would be the difference between the survival or end of their world as they knew it. This creature of unimaginable power, this king of kings, was a little girl named Ami with one grey eye and one green eye and enough self hatred to fuel a country, and enough untapped power to end worlds or rise them up in glory.
Wind gently caressed the sleepy hills of Eolidor in the dark hours before the sun had woken to skim the world with it's fingers of light, silent and chilled, still and sweet was the morning.
The peace was shattered for one girl far before the hour most others her age would ever dream of waking. Ami Valjana was dragged out of bed by her hair by her impatient and vindictive mistress. Willow Penhallow was a stick thin woman with a sour face and a mean disposition, the act of smiling gave her indigestion and making Ami's life a living hell had become a favorite hobby of hers. Her husband was the only cobbler for miles, making her family wealthy and arrogant beyond their actual station. She sported finery of nobility that fooled no one into forgetting her gnarled limbs beneath.
Ami internally cried out in pain but knew better than to yell as she stumbled behind the older woman, her hair still firmly gripped in the others taloned fingers and her bare feet slipping in the mud. The older woman said nothing as she tossed Ami into the stables and threw a pair of breeches and boots at her with a snarl demanding, "Clean."
Ami bowed her head in submission and waited for the older woman to leave.
Calm down, it's- I'm fine. I'm fine she repeated in her head. It's not like before, I'm not bleeding, that's something good! I will see the sunset. I will make it to the sunset tonight. I will see the sunset.The mantra was a security blanket that she wrapped around herself to help her stand tall and without terror. Her heart stammered in her chest and she forced herself into the routine she knew, breeches and boots first, tie back hair, find the brooms.
She let her mind blank to these menial tasks until her heart slowed and she calmed, perhaps today mistress wouldn't beat her, perhaps today could be a good day. The hope felt hollow in her chest but she shook off the feeling and set to cleaning the stables for the family horse, Bathos, as efficiently as she could.
"What in the name of hell do they feed this god awful horse?" Ami muttered to herself, sweeping dung from the floor.
The sun was beginning to stain the horizon when she finished with an entirely indifferent Bathos and set off to clean herself up and get ready for the rest of the day. Day to day she was to wear a pair of working slacks, sturdy boots and a tunic while she worked around the house or ran errands or cooked. Today, however, when she returned to what she called her room, she found two boxes side by side on her bed.
Shit. They won't think I stole anything, will they? She wondered to herself warily eyeing the boxes and considering what fresh hell they would bring.
The room was a small little space with a dirt floor and straw mattress bed she'd set on old crates a long time ago and a decrepit dresser in the corner with a jug of icy water and a bowl for cleaning herself in the mornings. Dingy sunlight filtered through the barred and filthy windows and dust danced in the gentle beams of light. The boxes were completely out of place in the simple room, the smaller one was red velvet with gold filigree along the sides and what looked like a filigree shoe on the lid and the larger one was black leather with a silver designed dress on the cover. Ami raised an eyebrow at the boxes.
"Why in the world were these left here?" she murmured and noticed a small note sticking out of the smaller box.
It read-
'wear this outfit and meet me by the pond today by noon- Jean'
She felt her stomach clench in unease.
Not today, why is it always me? Why can't he find someone else to torment? Jean was Willows son and while he had a pleasant face, he was cruel and liked to beat Ami more than Willow did, often apologizing and claiming he didn't mean it. Jean had the square jaw and gently ruffled hair that made most of the other girls in the village swoon and giggle, he was tall and corded in muscle, handsome really, but Ami knew better than to trust a pretty face.
Ami glanced at the sun for a moment through the bars of her small room with a pang of envy for those silly girls and their ignorance and with a sigh of resignation she opened the box. Tissue hid a pair of light brown boots made of soft leather that laced up in the back that seemed far stronger than she expected to find. Ami let out a grateful breath, at least they were something she could use again, and opened the second box.
She let out an derisive and mildly amused snort, it was a light blue dress that left her shoulders bare and a gold belt to go around the waist, the sleeves were long and alien against her skin, the skirt reached her ankles and belled out a little around her. It would make her look lovely. Just as pretty as the painted whores that draped themselves across street corners, bars, and the laps of any man who came within a few feet, desperate to do anything to anyone if it meant more opium.
Jean had stolen her first kiss a long time ago and had been after her virtue ever since, and he hadn't been subtle about it either. Ami wanted to tear the revealing dress into strips and shove them down his throat, but disobeying the request would end badly for her and she knew it. Just the thought of the dead eyed maid whipping her again at the demand of Jean made her skin crawl.
She slowly made herself slip into the dress, feeling disgusted and naked in the thin fabric and everything it represented. After a quick glance in the reflection in the glass to arrange her hair, she grabbed her dark green cloak and wrapped it tightly around herself, leaving the dank room. She pretended not to notice or think about the black eye, or how she got it.
The weather was exactly as miserable as she expected it to be and Ami hurried along to the pond on the edge of the Penhallow's property, the ground was slick with mud from the rain and fog that had lingered for the past week and the wind was bitter. The pond was by the Fae forest of Wyph Ami adored, but the brief flare of affection was extinguished quickly at the sight of Jean. He was standing silhouetted by the sun at the edge of the pond with a big smile on his face. Ami tried not to notice his eyes rake up and down her body, it did not sit well with her to be the target of his affections. Her stomach writhed with anxiety and the mere thought of getting anywhere near him, but she made her face into a picture of neutrality when she approached.
"Hello, Mr. Penhallow." she said in a flat tone and his smile disappeared,
"I've told you to call me Jean, Ami." he said in a tight voice. She could see his jaw clench with the anger he could never keep on a leash, the tone set a fire of panic in her gut, but Ami stomped it down and refused to let herself be afraid so soon. She looked at him with steady eyes.
"Jean, why did you ask me to come here?" she asked softly and saw his eyes alight with mischief, his emotions at least tended to turn on a dime like a child's.
"I've arranged for you to have the day free from duties, we're going to have a picnic!", he announced and wrapped an arm around her, guiding her towards a large blanket covered in food on the small beach of the pond. Ami stiffened at the touch and reluctantly let herself be led. Ever since she could remember, she loathed to be touched by anyone, it didn't really matter who it was or what the touch was, but her muscles and skin always shrank away from any contact and something in her always wanted to roar and tear off the offending limb.
His slithered in a quick movement to unhook her cloak and wrap his arm around her waist in the same move, he buried his nose in the bare skin at the crook of her neck and inhaled,
"I love your skin." he breathed headily and kissed the point where her shoulder and neck sloped. Ami tried not to shudder.
Disgust rose up in her gut at the gesture and she longed to shove him away, but she couldn't work up the courage to raise a hand against him. No, that wasn't it, she did have the courage and the desire to slap the hell out of him, it was self preservation against whatever the consequence would be if she did actually strike him that held her back. She feigned amusement and wrapped the cloak back around herself,
"I'll catch my death out here!" she said, forcing a laugh, Jean pursed his lips but didn't push it. Ami sat down and arranged her skirt and cloak on the blanket, refusing to shiver at the cold that the light dress failed to keep out, she knew he'd done this on purpose to make her ask to snuggle up to him against the cold. Ami clamped down on the fear in her gut and made herself smile in a cool and non romantically enticing smile.
Jean, to her dismay, sat next to her and pulled her close, keeping a muscular arm wrapped possessively around her shoulder, Ami pretended not to notice and nibbled on the fruits strewn across the blanket in little wooden bowls. Her heart thundered in her chest, she was alone with him far from another set of eyes to keep Jean in check, and the sword he always had at his side didn't help her fears one bit.
His hand traveled to her chin and forced her head to turn to him, he planted his lips on hers, Ami froze. His tongue and lips demanded entrance and when she didn't open her mouth to him, his fingers dug into her cheeks and forced her mouth open with a guttural growl. Shit shit shit shit shit. This was not happening, this couldn't be happening, not after everything else. Ami couldn't breathe through the panic enveloping her senses and pushed her hands against his chest, he ignored her silent protests and wrapped his other arm around the small of her back, deepening the kiss and biting her lip.
With a cry of fear, Ami disentangled herself from him and scrambled back a few feet, breathing hard, she felt hot rage start to crack through her fear like fire through ice and she stood.
"Mr. Penhallow, I am leaving." she said in an arctic tone and began to skulk back towards the house. She wanted to rip out his throat, but the echo of old pain lashing across her bare back made her curl her fingers and turn away.
Jean stood with a look of outrage and grabbed her wrist,
"AMI!" he yelled and she flinched, trying to rip her arm free of his grasp. She couldn't look at him, she couldn't let this get worse. He sneered and threw her down onto the blanket.
"You belong to me. I've seen the way you look at the piece of shit poor bastards in town, you stupid whore. I was going to offer you marriage before I did this, but I don't feel like waiting for something that is mine spread her goddamn legs for someone else." he snarled and pinned her down. Her heart stopped for a moment, this was the moment she had feared more than anything. She kicked out uselessly and thrashed under him, his fingers dug into her arms with bruising force. The sky was a shade of blue that seemed inappropriate for the situation, she imagined for a moment what it would be like to be lying on a blanket looking up into the sky with someone she loved, to feel free under the blanket of clouds. Reality slammed back into her head when his mouth latched onto hers for another sloppy kiss. The helplessness drove her terror through the roof and she choked on a scream trying to claw its way out her throat.
Tears threatened to fall but she willed them back with vicious outrage at her own weakness, she'd be damned if she ever let Jean see her cry again.
I'll kill him, I'll claw his eyes out and rip his throat out myself. I will not break! I WILL NOT BREAK! she fought to free her hands but Jean was too strong, it fueled her blind anger and terror. To hell with the consequences, she would kill him for this.
He held both of her hands over her head in one meaty fist and trailed the other hand up her thigh. His lips kissed a line from her jaw down her throat to her shoulder. She felt helpless and disgusted and like she might puke from the fear. A kernel of pure murderous rage bubbled through her, it was blinding and all consuming hatred stronger than she'd ever felt in her life, and she gave it everything she had.
How dare he touch her? How dare he lay a single finger on her? How the hell had she let this happen for years? How dare she let herself be struck by such revolting grimy pieces of horse shit unfit to lick the bottoms of her shoes? And how dare she let herself feel helpless for even a second?
She grit her teeth and spit in his face, he snarled and struck her jaw with blinding force, stars danced across her vision but she took the moment to pull a hand free and raked her nails down his face. Blood trickled down her arm and she bit his hand hard enough that she tasted his putrid blood.
Jean howled and loosened his grip, she brought her knee up solidly between his legs and rolled him off of her when he curled in agony. She jumped to her feet and allowed herself a moment of disbelieving joy, short lived since he got to his feet with a murderous gleam in his eye.
The angry feelings, the hate, no. It wasn't just feelings, it was a voice, it told her to run. She turned to run and was once again thrown to the ground by his filthy hands grabbing her wrist, a bottle of wine shattered beneath her and the glass slid painfully into her skin, she screamed. Jean laughed and bore down on her, pushing the shards deeper into her skin, she scrabbled around for something, finding and jamming a shard into Jeans side and elbowing him in the nose with all of the power she could put into the blow. She cried out at the pain in her side as she stood but took off running, ignoring the screaming of her wounds she sprinted harder than she had ever dared. She knew she'd never make it to the village before he could slice her to ribbons or get his meaty hands on her again. The only choice was the forest, the thought of trespassing brought a sour taste to her mouth but there was no other choice, she ran as fast as she could to the border of trees. She bowed her head as she ran,
"Forgive me! Please forgive me!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as she plummeted through the curtain of green leaves and tall grass. She heard him laugh behind her as he followed her, not even bothering to apologize and stomping on plants like they were nothing, Ami fled as quickly as she could but took care not to step on the plants save for grass. She prayed to every saint and god she could think of that Jean would fall or someone, anyone would help her for once. The gods hadn't ever listened before, not the first time Willow slapped her so hard she bruised Ami's face. Not when Mr. Penhallow would have her held down by the other servants and beaten. Not when she was struck mute by the fear that she'd be killed in the night and never wake up to see the next morning. The gods had abandoned her to her own devices years ago, but if they could listen just once and save her just once, she made a silent promise to never again miss a day of prayer.
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​ ​Théoden had heard the screams and come to the border between his forest and the village of Eolidor before he'd seen the fighting or recognized the voice those screams belonged to. Curiosity and a love for fighting had drawn him like a moth to flame, though what he saw was not what he'd hoped to see and sent a wave of nausea over him. He'd seen the muscular male grab the tiny female and throw her onto a bottle of wine and realized in a moment what was happening. He'd actually been thinking about stepping in when the female had fought back with what seemed to be instinctual vicious moves for his soft spots, she jumped up and ran. Théoden had to admit he was impressed and a little proud of the female for fighting back, though he'd never met her. She ran for the boundary and Théoden bristled until she screamed.
"Forgive me! Please forgive me!" before hurling herself not five feet away from Théoden into his forest. Théoden blinked, the little one was quite striking for one he knew was young, long dark brown hair and a sweet face marred with a black eye and spots of blood, lean tan limbs peppered with bruises, and her scent was one he knew, though he couldn't put his finger on where he knew her from. He noticed that she had one eye as green as emerald and the other a deep shade of grey, it was rare and surprisingly endearing. The male, he noticed, was armed and chasing her, but now he was on Fae lands. The male laughed and pursued whiled yelling profanities and threats, Théoden followed and watched from the trees with curiosity as their chase led deeper into his lands.
The female eventually caught her deep green cloak in a skeletal dead tree and was pulling fruitlessly at the clasp in desperation after nearly throttling herself when the male caught up to her and laughed at her.
"You stupid whore, no one's going to find you out here." he sneered and brought his sword over his head, Théoden jumped soundlessly down from the trees and was about to step in when the female surprised him a second time, she ripped a large branch off of the skeletal tree and wielded it over her head and met his blade with a clang and a fire in her eyes.
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Ami
"COME ON THEN! I don't give a damn if you kill me out here, better die than ever be touched by your filthy hands again!" she roared and swung her makeshift club at him. Her chest filled with strength and a surety, it was like her soul was free for the first time, she would never let him touch her again. If she lived through this, she promised herself she'd go south and dance to the music the travelers and gypsies would bring in their caravans and she would never bow and take pain without a fight.
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Théoden​
Théoden had to admit, she looked mighty and strong, like a Fae warrior in battle. Her elegant blue dress torn and stiff with her blood, she was clearly outmatched and out armed, wounded, but she still seemed the more intimidating of the two. The male was about as surprised as Théoden was and she caught him in the arm with enough force that the branch splintered and the male was thrown into a tree with brutal force. The female shrank back, her wounds obviously bothering her and her hands dripped blood from the branch slicing her palms.
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The male came back at her with a roar or rage and the girl fell to her knees with a cry of pain and threw her bloody arms up to defend herself, Théoden was between the blade and the female in the blink of an eye, his own wickedly sharp blades in his hands and his fangs bared. The female scrambled back with a startled noise and the male looked about ready to piss himself and promptly turned on his heels and sprinted the other direction. Théoden grunted in satisfaction and sheathed his swords. He turned and focused his gaze on the trembling little one and bared his teeth triumphantly, hoping to share the delight in this victory with her.
2: Strangers and DaydreamsAmi
Ami was ready, she was either going to die with a hell of a fight, or kill him with the branch, the odds were decidedly not in her favor and her wounds screamed at her for rest and attention. She swung and the branch splintered to useless shreds that only carved her hands. Her knees gave out at the same moment and she threw her arms up in a last ditch attempt to live but prepared herself for the blow that would kill her. Her only regret was that she'd ever come back, she'd had the chance to run half a year ago, but she had been too stupid to take it. The blow never came, in its place was the hiss of blades springing from their sheaths. She peaked up to find a mighty warrior standing with his back to her and blades in his hands, between her and her death. The first thing that hit her was the utter shock, in all of her life with the Penhallows, she'd never once seen someone with magic blood. And yet, here was a full blooded Fae warrior who had just saved her life for no reason she could think of.
Unless, do the Fae eat people? Ami racked her brain trying to remember the old tails. Maybe he wants to kill me himself for trespassing? She desperately hoped she was wrong about that. Ami still scrambled back from the imposing Fae with a gasp of fear and awe. He was huge, something like a mountain cat that practically oozed lethality. It was Jeans turn to flee and Ami took the moment to examine the Fae. He had long ink black hair tied in a braid and the sides of his head were shaved, he had dark skin the color of wheat during harvest times, he wore black and green clothing that was foreign to Ami and he had pointed ears and an abundance of muscle on his tall frame. He turned his head to examine Ami and her blood ran cold, he had fangs and silver eyes set in a handsome but indifferent face.
The Fae prince of the forest was the only Fae of his people to have ever been known to have silver eyes. She couldn't read those silver eyes, couldn't tell whether he was looking at her and thinking of letting her go or skinning her and roasting her over a spit out of spite. It just had to be his forest that she trespassed on and was about to die on, no way fate would let it be a nixie or an elf to punish her crimes. Ami swallowed against the fear that had formed a lump in her throat and prayed he'd kill her quickly. The Fae was faster than a blink and she had no delusions that she, a wounded human girl, could outrun an immortal with two very big and very sharp looking swords.
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Théoden
Théoden regarded the small human female thoughtfully and noticed the scent of fear wrapped tightly around her. Her pupils were enormous with fear and he could see the trembling of her hands, but she showed impressive fortitude by not letting slip a single other sign of distress. Red blood dripped from cuts along her arms, they were visibly peppered with bruises old and new that were no longer hidden by the shredded and discarded cloak. A gash above her eyebrow oozed blood down one side of her face and a bloom of blood had begun flowing at her side.
Théoden cared little for most humans and their disregard for the old stories and lack of respect for his forest, but the female before him was one he finally recognized. She came for every one of the old festivals and left offerings alongside a new sapling she would plant every year. The female had never once overstepped the sacred boundaries so few gave a care for and had always made a point of bowing to the forest itself whenever she came or left. The smaller of creatures had taken a liking to her and often came to her when she visited to enjoy her touch and one sided conversations.
He had observed the girl from afar with mingling curiosity and a small bit of fondness for the little one, she'd even taken to bringing a food she called a strawberry tart to her offerings every week, and Théoden had grown quite addicted to them. It was only natural that he'd come to save her when she came sprinting through the sacred woods screaming, not for help but instead for forgiveness at trespassing. Running from that oafish brute, and even in her panic she had taken care not to tread over the sprouts. So he couldn't really understand why she was so scared, it wasn't like he was snarling in her face or threatening to skin her.
Théoden felt a small twinge of self consciousness and tried to make his face appear kind, quickly realizing that showing his fangs may not be the best approach with a spooked mortal girl. He crouched close to the ground and reached out a hand to touch the girl's face, check the extent of the injury, hopefully offer comforting, and she flinched as though she expected him to strike her. A sudden wave of anger overtook him, who had harmed such a child to the extent that she only expected pain at the mere extension of a limb? Was it that moronic brute?
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Ami
Ami panicked at the look in his eye and threw her hands down in the lowest bow she knew how,
"Forgive me! I did not mean to shy away! Do as you wish, as I deserve." she cried and tried not to tremble.
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Théoden
Théoden was taken aback, as she deserved? She thought he was angry she flinched? His stomach clenched in revulsion and hatred for whomever had ingrained this reaction in her but he made his face show only kindness,
"You want me to treat you as you deserve?" he asked in a soft and lulling voice.
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Ami
Ami immediately felt a new surge of fear, a soft voice almost always meant a crueler punishment, but years with the Penhallows had made her knee jerk reaction to think she deserved whatever pain he saw fit to inflict,
"Y-yes. However you see fit, Sir Fae." she said in a trembling voice. She was disgusted with herself for throwing aside the oath she'd just made to herself but a larger part of her told her that making a stand may very well be the stupidest thing she had ever done.
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Théoden
Théoden felt his heart clench, yes, he very much wanted to protect the female before him.
"Very well." he said and saw the female stiffen, she'd never been hit by a man as huge as this Fae, but she was pretty damn sure it was going to hurt like hell. He very gently pet her hair and back in a soothing rhythm. Her head rose in shock and confusion but she said nothing and after a few moments she relaxed and leaned into the touch. It was clearly like food to a starving man.
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Ami
Ami couldn't remember the last time someone had touched her in a way that wasn't sexual or painful or against her will and the temptation to relax into the touch won over her desire for caution. She realized a little belatedly that she didn't want to shy away from the touch, she could remember shying away from priests taking her hand in church, but somehow, this huge Fae made her feel safer than they ever had.
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Théoden
Théoden felt his protective instincts kick in harder than ever at this small conceit of trust in him and he scooped the female up in his arms and sat her in his lap, continuing to pet her hair and his chest rumbled soothingly, the Fae version of a purr meant to comfort. Ami froze in terror for a moment but soon relaxed to the kind touch when he didn't try anything and the tears she'd held back finally streamed down her face when she decided she didn't care anymore. If he was going to kill her anyway, she didn't care.
"Why are you crying?" Théoden asked quietly, trying to stoop to look into her eyes. She sniffed a little and smiled,
"I can't remember ever been held in a kind embrace before, it makes me feel so, so safe. I'm grateful for this kindness, one pleasant moment before I am to die. Thank you." she said in a small voice, Théoden blinked.
"Die? Who says you're going to die?" he asked and the girl looked up, genuinely bewildered,
"Y-you... do you mean you aren't going to kill me?" she asked, a pitiful amount of confusion in her voice. Théoden sighed,
"I just saved your life, why in hell would I want to kill you? You are the only human I've ever seen who brings offerings to my forest and shows the utmost respect for the creatures within, I bear no ill will to you for fleeing here. In truth, you are one of the only humans I don't want to maim or kill in any way." he said in an awkward attempt to sound kindly.
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Ami
Ami was baffled, one such as him didn't look down on her with revulsion as the others did, didn't seem to want to hurt her in any way, and was in fact comforting her after the worst day of her life. She was quiet for a while and snuggled into his chest, shivering.
"Thank you." she said again in a muffled but slightly stronger voice. Her side throbbed where the glass had sunk into her skin and a small whimper of pain left her lips before she could stop it, she slapped a hand over her mouth.
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Théoden
Théoden froze, he'd almost forgotten that the human was injured, he stood with her in his arms and started to take her deeper through the forest.
"Where are you taking me, Sir Fae?" the female asked, alarmed, Théoden considered for a moment.
"I am taking you to a friend of mine, he understands human anatomy far more than I do and can treat your wounds. And I am not 'Sir Fae' I am Théoden." he said and the female stiffened.
"You don't need to do that! I don't want to be a bother to you and your friend. It's bad enough you had to rescue me, I wouldn't want to take up another moment of your time. It's fine really, you could just put me down and I'd be able to go back to the village and never be a bother again." she squeaked out, waving her hands as if to illustrate the point that she didn't need help. Théoden snorted,
"Do you honestly think I'd let a defenseless little wounded female out of my sight for even a moment? Please, I'd never be able to live with myself. And by now that oaf has twisted the story to either paint you as wicked or him a hero. Your welcome would be anger and confusion, and if I'm not mistaken, those beatings you usually endure would be the least of your problems." she flinched as though he'd struck her and said nothing, subconsciously bringing a hand to touch her back.
Ami
Okay, that hurt. She was miserably embarrassed that he'd figured it out so fast.
Théoden
Théoden mentally kicked himself for being so blunt and harsh and was about to say something, apologize maybe, when he heard her small voice say,
"What do I do then, Théoden?" in a scared tone. The answer was on his tongue without a second thought,
"Live with me of course." at the look on her face he quickly added
"It's your choice, but I've been looking for an apprentice for a long time and you're the only candidate I've ever found to my liking. Nothing strange, I've wanted to share my knowledge of swordsmanship for a very long time." he said and she was quiet for a long time, the only sound was Théoden's nearly silent tread as he continued deeper into the winding green and brown tunnels of trees and greenery. After what seemed like hours, but was probably only a minute or so, the female spoke,
"I think... I think I would like that very much, Théoden." she said and looked up into his silver eyes, and did something that genuinely awed him to see. She smiled a very real and immeasurably beautiful smile, it made him feel suddenly brimming with energy and light, and though he didn't notice, the grasses under her grew taller and greener and far more lush.
Ami
For the first time in a long time, Ami felt like she might be able to trust someone. This Fae was nothing like the bloodthirsty monsters of the old stories and she actually felt safe with him, it was a novel feeling that made her feel warm and like something molten was poured over the broken pieces of herself to remake her. She smiled, and for once it was not because its what she was supposed to do or she'd been ordered to do it, but because she actually felt so happy she wanted to express it just because she wanted to. She was free, just like that, she wasn't under Willow's bony thumb anymore and the sky was the limit. She would never again be bound, never again fall asleep looking at the world through cold iron bars. Théoden blinked and smiled back at her.
"My name is Ami by the way." she said shyly and put a hand to her side, wincing slightly when he jostled her over uneven terrain. The moment of distraction between them was quickly dismissed and Théoden hurried a little faster towards his friends home, taking care not to jostle Ami too much. Ami felt the blood leaking from her side and onto Théoden's impressive looking armor and her head began to spin, she put a hand to her head as a headache began to throb behind her eyes and tried to suppress a whimper, I've been through worse, she thought to herself. She shut her eyes and let herself drift into a troubled sleep to distract herself from her waning strength.
Angry voices melded in a cacophony of angry words thrown at her from the darkness, her Mother stepped out of the darkness, she glared at Ami with disgust on her lovely face and anger in her eyes. Ami reached out with her toddlers arms and cried out for her mother,
"Mother!" she shrieked and felt tears stream down her face. Her mother turned her back on Ami and growled out words Ami felt too stunned to understand. The woman towered over her and threw her fist down in an ark that held a streaming lash of black leather and metal bits that drew blood when they hit Ami, yelling at the top of her lungs and her eyes burned like flames with anger and hatred. She screamed the same words over and over again, bringing pain with every increasingly frantic and hate filled lash that seared Ami's skin. Ami cried out in confusion and pain,
"What have I done?!" she screamed, not knowing why, why was her mother filled with so much hate for her. Why was the woman supposed to protect and love her unconditionally hurting her? Her mother let out a choked scream of rage and disappeared into the darkness once again.
Her father took her mothers place. He had been a tall spindly man in life, skin and bone and hate and crazy, but his limbs were stretched longer than ever. He towered over her and wielded a bottle of rum in one hand and his fist shook at her. His face was red as he screamed at her, calling her names and telling her exactly how useless she was, how without him, she'd be a whore on the streets and to show him more respect. He dragged her about by her hair and kept hitting her side and head until he crumbled into the darkness with a sallow face and sweat on his brow.
Next came the children from the orphanage and the sour old woman who'd run the place, the children surrounded her and cackled at her skinny limbs and bruised face, pointing at her different colored eyes and calling her a freak. They had once been varied like grey wild flowers in a dying field, but they blurred into one entity of taunting, throwing her from one side of the circle to the other while the bitter woman glared at her and snapped foul insults at her, told her that even God hated her. Ami found her tears did nothing to make the pain stop, they seemed to make the children frenzy over her pain and hurt her more until they all stepped back to reveal Jean and his parents. Jean looked kind and handsome, even in his youth, his parents friendly and open, but their features gnarled into demonic proportions as the children stepped back into the darkness. Ami screamed and ran, but couldn't gain a single inch of ground, hands grabbed her arms and yanked her backwards, and despite her best efforts, she couldn't tear herself free. Claw-like nails dug into her flesh and pulled her closer to the dark nothingness screaming her name.
The blackness tasted like smoke and ashes, like blood, like death, it choked her and seared her eyes. The darkness took her whole and was violently cold where it touched her, freezing her flesh and cradling her in a horrible parody of a child in it's mothers arms. Something inside of her, deep down in the yawning caverns of her soul, clawed it's way from its cage and slammed to the surface and scattered the darkness, ripping it apart and clawing at the demons, leaving them in ribbons. But when she looked down, it was Ami's hands stained with their blood.
3: A manor in a hillsideThéoden could smell the renewed fear escaping Ami and felt deeply concerned about how faint her cries were becoming, how weak her haphazard limbs striking invisible tormenters seemed to be getting. He felt immensely relieved when he beheld a cabin in the side of a small hill.
The grassy meadow was a perfect circle of bright green grass and random wildflowers sprouting with unusually warmer temperatures than the rest of the forest. The hill was directly in the center of the meadow and sported a chimney, door, and three windows. The rest of the hill was covered in a garden of exotic smelling flowers, almost whimsical looking herbs and juicy looking fruits. The door itself was dark brown and elegantly carved in detailed craftsmanship, Théoden , who was about six foot five and taller than the door itself, hammered on the door with his foot several times before he heard a faintly annoyed and familiar voice cry out from within,
"Alright! Alright! Just shut the hell up already, I'm coming!" Théoden stopped hammering on the door and waited.
He could hear the sound of stomping, crashing, and multilingual cursing getting steadily closer until the door was thrown open to reveal a bedraggled and pissed off looking boy about a head shorter than Théoden with dark bags under his luminous blue-green eyes. The boy's face was lined with wrinkles from whatever he had been sleeping on and his golden hair was sticking out in every possible direction. He had on a pair of wrinkled linen drawstring pants that covered just to his knees on and no shirt or shoes, his tan skin and lithe muscular physique was on display and bore elegant and geometric looking tattoos in black ink that ran over most of his exposed skin from his collar bone to the tops of his feet. The boy raised a blonde eyebrow in surprise,
"Théoden?" he blurted out and glanced at the limp and bloodied girl in his arms, his eyes grew to the size of frying pans. The boy shook his head,
"No. Théoden is not at my door with a dead human girl in his arms, I'm still very drunk. Oh by the stars, how much liquor does it take to hallucinate like this? I need to sleep this off." he murmured under his breath, looking vaguely horrified with himself he started to shut the door. Théoden wedged an impatient foot in the portal door and pushed the door back open,
"No, you drunken moron, she isn't dead yet. And you are not hallucinating, help me, help her. She's injured, let me in Tharose!" he said and, instead of waiting for a reply or acknowledgment, stooped and pushed past Tharose into the room. As he stepped over the thresh hole the uneasy feeling and dizziness that always accompanied an entrance into Tharose's home staggered him.
Tharose looked faintly annoyed and muttered something under his breath while throwing a pinch of brick dust at Théoden, who immediately felt righted. Tharose's home was situated in a pinch between worlds, a bubble that ran like an invisible room between the seraphim, demon, and human worlds. It was his domain he had forced open and wedged himself into long ago that had doors to all over the worlds he touched, despite having three doors in the house, the doors could open from within to any of his special homes. If the person using the doors thought of a door anywhere in the world when they opened it, they could arrive at the location through the door.
Trespassers who opened the doors from the outside would find nothing but dusty empty houses if they weren't meant to find Tharose, and the whole home was charmed to destroy any and all things over time that he didn't give his blessing to enter. The house itself was enormous, a manor house in a hill, that expanded far into the darkness, though it was filthy. Dust moats and towers of discarded papers and books older than entire families covered the once polished wood floors and random plates and bottles covered in various states of moldering were strewn around the large entrance. A shelf dominated the far wall and was filled with vials and packages of drastically differing size and color and the room itself was dim save for a small corner of the room and a filthy skylight. There was an orb of light over a seemingly simple wooden worktable pulsing gently and what looked like half of a mechanical bird surrounded by small bits of metal and tools on the table. Elsewhere there was a pristine table made of slick looking metal as smooth as water, Théoden made a beeline for the table and set Ami down on it with infinite care on the cold, sterile surface.
"Sure, make yourself at home, just throw your unconscious companions anywhere." Tharose muttered while picking his way over to an ancient looking cupboard and digging around within for his tools and trying to shake off his hangover. Théoden clenched and unclenched his hands uncertainly while Tharose poked at Ami with a half curious and bored expression,
"Can you save her?" Théoden asked cautiously. Tharose gave an impatient wave of his hand and looked mildly irked,
"Of course I can, ye of little faith. She'll be fine, I just want to know what she is, cause she sure as hell isn't all human." he said and muttered to himself about auras and poked her again. After a few moments he shooed Théoden out of the makeshift room of the curtain and began to work, stitching her with human methods and finally using what little healing magic he could muster to bring her from the brink of death. After nearly an hour of pacing a trench into Tharose's floor, Théoden saw Tharose emerged from behind the curtain he'd pulled up covered up to his elbows in blood and looking winded. Tharose sank onto a faded green couch with a boneless whump and a groan,
"You owe me so many favors at this point, I'm fairly sure I own your bony ass." Tharose said by way of greeting and began looking around for something to wipe his hands on. Théoden sighed in relief and threw Tharose a towel from a nearby chair,
"My ass is not bony." Théoden said and sat down in the chair opposite of Tharose.
"Funny." Tharose deadpanned.
"So, care to explain why you've brought a nearly dead female creature of indeterminate origin into my home and made me fix her when you reek of healing magic?" Tharose said scrubbing industrially at his arms, scowling at the blood, and abandoning the endeavor altogether in favor of staring at Théoden. Théoden furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head,
"She's human. Her name's Ami, she came from Eolidor, I saved her from another human in the forest. She's human, pure and simple, there's no scent to her blood other than human." Théoden said with a small bit of confusion. Tharose raised an eyebrow,
"If she's a purebred human, I'm a schnauzer. She lost a lot of blood, Théoden. No human should've survived that much blood loss, even with my magic doing what it could, she should've been too weak to survive. If I were a healer or she'd been in better condition when she got here I wouldn't bat an eye, but you know as well as I do that healing magic doesn't agree with me at the best of times. But she's dozing on the table as content as can be instead of being a bloodless corpse." he paused and looked down at his arms, which were smoking gently where the tattoos met her blood and once again raised an eyebrow at Théoden,
"Yeah, no. Human blood doesn't react like this, organic non magical creatures of this world don't effect my marks in the least. She's something else, maybe part nixie or something, but I'm curious about something else entirely. I thought you hated humans as a whole. Even if she isn't human, you thought she was, so why save her?" Tharose asked and went back to scrubbing at his arms. Théoden told him about how Ami had always visited the edge of the forest and left offerings, how unusually kind she was to the animals and how weak she seemed, but how viciously she fought when attacked. Tharose's lips tightened in a disapproving scowl,
"Human males. Revolting slime of the Earth." he spat bitterly
"Probably gave her those scars too." he said and bared his teeth at the thought. Théoden froze,
"Scars? she has scars?" he said and was up and behind the curtain before Tharose could warn him.
She really was so petite, it was hard to think that a breeze wouldn't blow her away, let alone a blundering idiot with a sword. She lay curled on her side on the table with a fluffy quilt over her and her back to him was exposed. She did indeed have scars. A thick map of raised flesh and scar tissue covered her back in what looked like old whip marks and new bruises, some were thin white lines and others were thicker and looked carved by claws and peppered over with bruises ranging from yellow to purple. And that was just what wasn't covered in bandages, Théoden sucked in a gasp, these were the kinds of scars he himself had collected over the course of his long life through raging battles and he knew what it felt like to get that kind of scar.
Théoden was at a loss for words, he wasn't sure why he felt such a primal desire to protect Ami, but it was there and it was screaming for blood and vengeance for her. He reached out and lightly traced one of the raised marks with a fingertip, Ami stirred with a mewl and Théoden yanked his hand back like she'd burned him. Tharose made an angry noise and stomped away, he returned with a larger blanket he set to bundling Ami in. He scooped her up, blankets and all, and made his way to a spare room with an enormous bed and beautiful green wallpaper. He settled her under the covers and left Théoden in the room with a few blankets and a handsome, if dusty, armchair to sleep in.
"And where are you going?" Théoden asked. Tharose paused and looked over his shoulder, glancing at the small girl under the blankets before returning his gaze to Théoden, he shrugged.
"I've got potions to sell, medicine to dole out, goods to buy. I, unlike you, have a legitimate job." he sniffed and Théoden snorted.
"Since when do you ever bother buying things? Last time I saw you, you just stole whatever you wanted and made it seem like it never happened." he said and Tharose scowled.
"Fine, fine. Would it work to just tell you I'm going to get drunk and dance naked in the streets of the seraphim capital?" he asked and Théoden stifled a laugh and cocked his head to the side. Tharose sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes
"Alright, by the stars I hate it when you look at me like that. I may or may not be going to get a salve for her scars." he said, not looking Théoden in the eye as a light blush crawled up his neck, "I also may or may not be off to drown my hangover in ale and large breasted women. You choose which you want to believe, but don't mess up my house and don't open the damn doors." he snapped and spun on his heels to leave the room. Théoden smiled after his retreating figure and shook his head.
"By the stars indeed." Théoden said and chuckled again, turning his gaze to Ami and letting the day wash over him. He hated to admit that Tharose had a point, but he did. She probably should've died on that table, hell, she should've died in his arms, but she was alive and the unmistakable flush of life and blood tinged her cheeks. His brows furrowed in thought, if she wasn't all human, then what exactly was she? And why in the name of heaven and hell would the humans have taken her in to begin with?
The humans were the target of many half breed and full breed 'demons' as they saw fit to call those with magic kissed blood, and likewise the humans seemed to loath the 'demons' with every fiber of their manure marinated hate filled beings. The part that sincerely bothered him though was the fact that he couldn't see it, couldn't sense anything but weak human, couldn't even smell anything in her blood but pure human. It was as baffling as it was irritating, Théoden prided himself on his superior ability in deciphering one's origin through his Fae nose alone, and it had never before failed him to sniff out any nixie or dryad or centaur lurking under the skin of a seemingly human half breed. Théoden scowled and leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees, staring down her sleeping face as if the answer would appear as clear as writing across her face if he stared hard enough.
"What are you, Ami?" he muttered and rubbed at his eyes with a dismissive grunt of frustration.
4: A little black heartFevered fits of nightmares plagued Ami most of the night, twisted figures dripping black blood and clawing at her with sword like talons, flaying the skin from her bones and laying bare her soul. Ami wasn't as scared as she felt she ought to be, but there was an uneasiness and queasy sensation at seeing her skin peel away. There was something that pulsed beside her heart in her bare rib cage, it was black and ice cold and somehow... wrong.
There was something about it that was inherently not meant to be, something so filled with alien wrath and the unknown terror that just shouldn't exist. Ami realized with a jolt that the sensation was the same she'd felt at the voice, the thing that screamed for Jean's death. In fact, when she thought about it, the voice had been there before. She remembered with a sudden growing panic that she'd heard it before, it had demanded she kill her father years ago. The very next day, he'd died.
The black thing had veins that branched from it in smooth tubes that wrapped her bones tightly and throbbed in response to her gaze, seeming to glow with the unearthly wrongness and strength she could never release. Ami could never let that damnable thing gain an inch, could never let it out of her careful scrutiny for even a moment. She'd never really thought about it, but she had to constantly keep a tight hold over the thing to keep it silent.
Several of the twisted figures had charred skin and all but one had black marble like eyes with red iris' set into their faces, murky with the film of dreams obscuring their detail. They towered over Ami in the form of men, would've towered over Théoden, and simply watched her in unnatural stillness, their red gazes fixed on her. There were seven of them, clad in chain mail and armor with furs and once shining stones draped over the armor like that of a long dead king. One at the far end was stooped by chains wrapped thickly around him and his eyes glowed like embers, three of the others were like smoke, seeming like they were only half there.
The one in the center of the nine looked like a man, tall and powerful with an air of royalty and indifferent scrutiny, his skin was tan and unmarred by ashes or char. His eyes met hers, mercury silver met her emerald green and gunmetal grey in a locked gaze she couldn't tear herself from. He was awe inspiring and made her want to lie down and let him steal her soul away if that's what he wanted. His gaze drifted to the black second heart and his lips twisted in something between a sneer and a smile,
"Leviathan." he said in his simultaneously soothing and terrifying baritone. The black heart gave a little jolt and tore itself free, the veins disentangling from her bones like the reverse of vines growing and ripped themselves free. Her voice wouldn't come and she watched the veins turn into a girl, a girl her height with long brown hair and tan skin, it looked like her, but not her at the same time. While Ami's muscles were smooth, the other girl's arms held planes and valleys from hard muscle that covered her body, she was all hard muscle and harsh angles. But she didn't look human, the tips of black horns peaked out from her hair and her arms were black from the elbows to the claw like nails. Her legs did the same from the knees down and her eyes were black without even the suggestion of red in their fathomless darkness, the veins were visible in branches of faded darkness that mapped under her skin. Ami recoiled, demon her mind hissed at the imposter wearing the same skin as her. The girl turned to the man in the middle with the mercury eyes and bared her pointed teeth, throwing out her arms and standing at defense of Ami. The man bared his teeth in disgust,
"Revolting. You truly are a half breed, you haven't even taken over as dominant. Useless." he growled in his baritone, sending shivers up Ami's spine from fear and shivers of rage up the other girls bare back. Ami was startled to realize she could feel what the girl felt. The girl growled back,
"Not. Useless. Intelligent. My takeover means death. Not a stupid arrogant man like you. Earth too frail to withstand me without her. I force dominance, she dies." she said, the words sounded awkward in her mouth like she wasn't used to the language or talking in general. She spit at him. The man snarled and his companions seemed to stiffen with indignation and anger. The girl bared her teeth farther and the tendons in her neck stood out, she looked like a mad woman from a penny dreadful, but Ami couldn't rouse any fear for the girl with the others there. It was the man in the center who made her blood run cold, his mercury eyes seemed to see through her and have the capacity to destroy her with a simple glare, but she forced herself to look him in the eye.
"I am the dominant of the two of us. That is how it has always been, and who are you to question it? A foolish figment of a dream with no true intelligence of the way the world works." Ami said with far more confidence than she felt. The man's face twisted with a livid snarl,
"Silence! Hold your tongue amongst your betters!" he roared and it was all Ami could do not to cower at the menacing anger in his eyes. He scoffed and composed himself, dismissing her from importance, and returning his glare to the other girl,
"At least my offspring should know basic order." he growled and slapped the girl across the face. The girl didn't hesitate to slash her claws at him, but the man was gone, as were his companions, they were alone. Ami put her head in her hands, ignoring the other girl who put her hand on Ami's arm with a confused glaze to her black eyes,
"What is it? Are you hurt?" she asked and Ami yanked her arm back and realized belatedly that her skin was back where it should be.
"I'm fine. What the hell did he mean, my offspring? What are you anyway? Why are you even here?" she shouted. Ami ran her hands through her hair and growled in irritation,
"Why have you always been here? What are you?" she screamed in frustration. It wasn't fair, and it didn't make any sense. Why the hell was Ami the one who had this in her life on top of everything else?
"Like I'm not enough of a freak already." she murmured and the fight went out of her at once. The girl was quiet for a long moment and finally said,
"He is my father, but he is also your father." Ami's head snapped up at that with a furious twist to her lips and the girl continued,
"You and I are one and the same. Two sides of one coin. You are the part of us that comes from the woman who bore us, and I am the part from the man who forced us into existence, you just met him. His blood is that of the Lamia, it cannot be truly mixed with that of a human, and thus the two of us are what we are. Half life and half death, one an advocate for light, and the other one of darkness and yet we are one. You may be the dominant of us at the moment, but don't you ever think I am the weaker of us. If you ever slip, I will be there. If you ever drift into insanity, I will take control and I don't give a damn who sees or who dies, so long as you aren't dead. I can't exist without you being alive, so I suggest that you not get into life threatening situations or I will take dominance from you, and I won't be so easy to subdue once I've tasted blood for myself." she said. Ami stared,
"What if I need to protect someone I love? Are you an ally of mine? My other half or something?" she asked more because she didn't think she could handle the answers to the other questions running around her head than because she actually cared about people. The other girl took Ami's chin in her hand and lifted her from the ground quicker than a viper strike.
"You'd better not ever love someone, one never knows who I'll kill. It may be a mortal lover or a Fae prince you'd be an idiot to trust, maybe a child, maybe anyone I damn well feel like. I'll keep you alive, but I'm no ally of yours. I am not a dog at your beckon call." she said and bared her teeth. It didn't come as any surprise that she couldn't trust the demon girl, Ami was used to counting on herself, but to have another enemy inside her own head was infuriating and made her head ache just to think about it. Ami put her hand over the other girls and dug her nails in,
"I will not slip. Count on it." she snarled and ripped the other girls hand from her.
Ami woke drenched in sweat to the sight of a green fabric overhead and a throbbing headache.
"So you're finally awake." A bored sounding voice drawled from beside her. Ami jerked upright and immediately regretted it, her back and side gave an angry throb and she winced at the pain,
"Oi, don't move like that, you'll pop your stitches." The voice chastised and Ami turned to it, the boy seated beside her didn't seem like he was real at first. He was sun kissed and reminded her of the sun itself with his gold hair and white scars on his bare chest. Ami blinked at the boy, he was scowling and looked mildly ruffled as if woken from pleasant dreams, he was almost painfully handsome even looking annoyed and rugged, Ami tried not to blush. The boy leaned closer to her until their noses were nearly touching, Ami leaned away, reminded of Jean for a moment and feeling constricted
"Say, do you happen to know what you are?" the boy asked, his gaze annoyed and quizzical, she realized a little belatedly that he was looking at her like a problem he couldn't figure out, not like the slab of meat Jean always seemed to see her as. She recoiled at the question prodding at the raw knowledge of what she'd only just learned and raised an eyebrow at him,
"Well what the hell is that supposed to mean? Are you suggesting I look like something other than human?" she shot back, the physical and emotional pain sharpening her tongue.
"And what are you supposed to be?" she spat out. The boy sat back, looking surprised, and a little impressed,
"I'm the guy who saved your life. Your welcome for that by the way. And you look human enough, but you're not all human, that's all I meant." he said. Ami flushed at her own rudeness but was in no mood to apologize, she was done kowtowing to men without a sense of personal space just because. She raised her chin a little,
"Thank you for fixing me up. Where is Sir Théoden?" she said quickly, surprised by her own gruffness. The boy barked a laugh and shook his head,
"Théoden is out in the garden, he's getting some painkillers for you. You know, you're nothing like he said you'd be." The boy mused and stood, winking at her. Ami felt her cheeks light in a traitorous blush,
"But then again, quiet girls are so dull for conversation, a little fire in your veins 'll do you good." he said, smiling and wiggling his eyebrows. Ami was speechless, she'd spoken of him all of a minute and he was flirting with her like they'd known each other for years. It was oddly refreshing, Jean was the only boy to have ever flirted with her, most of the village regarded her as an abomination because of her bad luck and her eyes, she was used to insults coming her way, but this was turning out to be a very odd and, by her standards at least, pleasant day. She gaped at him,
"I must still be asleep." she declared and flopped down against the pillows, yelping at the sudden stab of pain shooting up her side,
"Or maybe not." she conceded. She could hear the boy laughing as he left, the room seemed to get a little colder without him there but she decided to just wait for Théoden before she really did pop her stitches.
5: Iron and stonePitch black was always so lovely, the darkness could hold so many wonderful things. Cloak so many unsightly things that polite company wouldn't dream of discussing. The kiss of a nighttime breeze was as welcome as a kiss from a pretty boy or girl, the scent of forests and lunar life was delightful. The dark could hold him and caress him like a mother would her child, the moonlight would dance on his skin in the rare times he could see it, welcoming him to the realm of his kind. At least, that's how Rowan usually felt about the dark, being a werewolf and all the darkness was usually his happy home. But this was not the usual. This was a nightmare wrapped in the skin of reality. Rowan had always been proud of his handsome maw and long limbs, the rugged sort of grace and good looks to make any girl he wanted swoon, and even a few choice boys. Though they weren't just for decoration, his legs were swift and sure when they carried him in sprints or over long patrols on the boarders of his territory, and his arms had been used before to fight his way out of the occasional bar fight or challenger. But they didn't help at all against the steel restraints biting into his wrists above his head and ankles as far down the table as they could be.
The cruel metal pinned him like a frog for dissection on a wooden table stained with disconcerting colors. The harsh metal dug into him and the table was unforgiving beneath him and reeked of bodily fluid. The room reeked of fear and blood, long ago spilled, and the musky scent of dirt and the underground and metal. Fear, dizzying crippling fear, was all he could taste, all he could think. The room was stone and iron, wet from a what he prayed was a leak of water, and entombed with the innate sense of wrongness one felt when trespassing on the devils domain. Footsteps sounded outside the thick wooden and iron door, the slow clip of an unhurried gait, and light spilled under the crack of the door. His blood froze and his breath came in quick pants as he threw his weight against the restraints, desperate to pull himself free with renewed vigor, but the restraints didn't budge a bit, ignoring his silent prayers. He sobbed with fear and pulled again and again, he heard a dry chuckle from the doorway, he hadn't even heard it open on it's greased hinges. His breaths came in shallow pants and his eyes bulged at the man smiling pleasantly in the doorway,
"Help me!" he half screamed around his ragged voice. The Man was tall and muscled lankly with brown hair and blue eyes that smiled at him like the white flash of his teeth. He wore what looked to the silk of a noble designed like a regular black tunic and trousers made of tough looking canvas and black leather boots worn soft with use. He looked unconcerned and leaned against the door frame crossing his arms, throwing the light from the candle in his hands at odd angles over his face. He was tanned and, somehow, there wasn't another way to really describe him, but he was perfect. It was something in the way his eyes danced and his muscles moved under the tunic and how his form was cat-like in grace and precision, but some primal part of Rowan screamed 'perfect' and filled him with awe. The rest of him was kicking it and telling it to shut the hell up and make goo-goo eyes at pretty boys later. The man's lips quirked in a half smile and a sort of hunger entered his eyes, he shook his head and laughed. Rowan felt his stomach drop and fear replaced the sliver of hope he'd had, his mouth went dry as he watched the man light sconces along the walls, chuckling to himself. The man glanced around the room, appraising for a moment,
"these walls really are so bare." he murmured to himself, he glanced at Rowan, his smile turning cold,
“This place looks very plain right now. Don’t worry, I’ll decorate it with your intestines soon.” he said, like he was talking about the weather. Rowan blanched and froze, realizing this man truly was not joking. The man nodded, approving his own idea, and plucked a few knives from somewhere inside his tunic Rowan couldn't see, one was serrated and as long as his hand, the man twirled it around between his fingers like a coin. He murmured something to himself and looked between the knives in his hands, his brows knitting together in a v shape, the effect was devastating. The man sighed petulantly and casually sank both into Rowans thighs at the same time with twin downward thrusts. Rowan arched off the table with a shriek of pain and screamed, white hot pain burst behind his eyes when the man backhanded him hard enough to silence his screams. Rowan blubbered at the pain, the man looked torn between being pleased and mildly irritated,
"Tell me, which of these knives would you like me to use? I can’t make up my mind.” he asked calmly. Rowan couldn't get a word out around his own hysteria. The man rolled his eyes and yanked one of the knives back out with a sickening pop and gurgling sound, the blade was slick with his blood.
"well marvelous, I like the serrated one two." the man said pleasantly and smiled like a schoolboy, ignoring the fact that Rowan had no love at all for either blade. The man industrially started scribbling in a small notebook before dragging the knife along his skin just light enough to leave a trail of white scratches. Rowan trembled and tried to remember the names of all the saints, beseeching each one to help him. He tried to remember exactly how his mother's face looked, the kind tilt of her big brown eyes, the warm honey brown tone to her skin, the way she would always sing softly when she worked with her hair tied in a high bun. Tried to remember the way it felt to have her tuck him in when he was sick like it had back when he was a kid, how he'd probably never see her again. Sweat and tears dripped down his face. The man glanced at him and raised a quizzical eyebrow, shrugged, and went back to scribbling in his notebook. After a bit, he slammed the book with a delighted gleam in his eyes
"I know what you want now! You're crying because you don't have any choice right? Well I'll be kind. Left or right eye, which one have you always wanted to see dangling down your cheek?” he said in a chipper tone. The light played across the planes of the man's unconcerned face, the orange glow somehow making his icy eyes seem to glow brighter. He dragged a finger gently down Rowans jaw, almost reverently, with a look of delight and calm in his eyes. His eyes captured Rowan completely, despite the choking fear, the same way the gaze of a viper enthralled a man after he knew the poison in his veins was its fault. Rowan threw his weight against the restraints again, screaming as loud as he could and pulling with bruising force, the man smiled like a predator and chuckled low in his throat.The man leaned over Rowan and held him by the chin, leaning until their breaths mingled and Rowan could feel the icy cold radiating from his skin.
"You have such a lovely scream." The man said headily, his nostrils flared, taking in Rowan's scent, and he grinned again and a laugh bubbled up from him, he cackled and screamed with mirth. After a moment, he spoke, low as a lover's whisper,
"You're drenched in fear. I love that scent, don't you? I could kill a full grown wolf just as easily, but gods above is it fun to skin a pup." he purred in his deep sensual voice that sent Rowans hair on end, "They whimper and cry and scream so much better, and sometimes they loose their minds to the fear. It's so much easier to kill them, but they are the ones I keep longest." the man said and smiled a conspiratorial grin. Rowan bit back the vomit that rose to the man's vile words, he'd killed so many people, he clearly knew exactly what he was doing. The man shook his head and laughed again, a booming laugh that grew from a chuckle to mad cackling, hacking his knife in the air and barely missing Rowan. Every time Rowan dodged, the man laughed harder and harder, finally sinking the knife through Rowan's hand with a sickening crack of broken bone. Rowan shrieked, his throat burned with it and his wounds flared in agony, he spit as many foul curse words as he knew at the man, the type that would've ended with a bar of soap in his mouth for a fortnight. The man chuckled, his eyes like shards of glass that cut at Rowan like that damnable knife. The man yanked out the knife, pulling at the tendons and raking at his bones with a practiced flourish of blood trailing through the air. Rowan bit back the screams this time, refusing to give the man the satisfaction, the man's eyes lit up like a delighted child's, he flashed a wolfish grin,
"Let’s see how long you can keep quiet for. Now try your best for me, please, I love watching them keep their screams in, until they can’t anymore… So satisfying.” the man said, twirling the knife between his fingers with a delighted grin. The man set to slicing at Rowan, who kept his mouth shut, much to the man's clear delight. He kept it up for almost an hour before the man's gaze fixed on his eyes, intent glimmering in the soulless depths of icy blue. The knife traveled closer and closer to his face, Rowan thrashed, wide eyed and terrified, desperate, but it was useless. Rowan kept his lips sealed for as long as he could, but when the knife pierced his eye, he couldn't help himself. He screamed and screamed and screamed, blood sliding down his face like tears and fiery agony in his eye, but the man didn't stop twisting the blade, his smile had disappeared and his face held nothing. No contempt or delight or wicked glee, the man simply looked at Rowan as he sobbed and thrashed and screamed like he was nothing more than a bug he could crush beneath his heel. His eyes were filled with nothing when he stuck his fingers into Rowans eye and pulled the whole thing out with a sickening pop, his cries echoed through the underground tunnels for miles. Rowan felt his eyeball rolling across his cheek and dripping blood and some other fluids he didn't recognize, the pain was blinding white hot agony. Rowan gave a final sob, his breath hitching and catching over the pain but he forced a deep breath,
"KILL ME!" he roared with as much strength he could put into the words, meaning them with every fiber of his being. Pain was something he'd always thought he could handle but never, never, had he felt something like this raging throbbing fire in his veins, never imagined such pain was possible in the world. The man offered a mirthless smile, his eyes as dead and unfeeling as a corpse,
“Hey, hey, sshhhh darling, you’re not dying yet.” he said, a sadistic flicker of amusement in his eyes. The man pulled down one of the flaming sconces and held it up beside his face, shadowing half and making the rest look deranged and calm in the way only the truly insane could seem. His voice came out as a purr when he said,
"we're just getting started."
6: HerbsThéoden sneezed at the pollen tickling his nose, scowling as he tried to figure out the difference between two plants that looked exactly the same, but one supposedly was a painkiller and the other was used as a laxative. It was a very important distinction to make since he doubted Tharose would take kindly to Ami... well... he didn't even want to think about it.
"Damn it all to hell, why doesn't that skinny bastard use signs?" Théoden muttered under his breath, not keen on going back to the undoubtedly smug Mage to ask him for help, but decidedly stuck. He was an immortal. An immortal Fae prince of a forest kingdom who was almost as old as Tharose, who was as old as dirt, and he was stumped by a plant. The humor probably would've struck him stupid with laughter if the sardonic irony hadn't hit him in the face like a brick already.
Théoden ground his teeth irritably and glared at the leaves for the thirteenth time, looking to all the world like he was trying to intimidate the truth out of the plants when he heard a lighthearted snickering behind him. Théoden looked up from the plants to see Finch striding up the path, his longtime half friend and one of Tharose's closest friends. Though Tharose tended to make enemies quicker than friends so the term was relatively the same as calling finch a person he didn't quite loathe. He was also a will o' the wisp and forever looked like a fifteen year old boy with white hair and icy blue eyes who refused to put on shoes since his feet never really touched the ground. Finch contented himself in being an incessant know it all and a royal pain in the ass for any and all mortals unfortunate enough to meet him.
Théoden was in no mood to put up with Finch, nor, he supposed, would his brand new mortal apprentice. That thought alone was not a pleasant one, why in the hell did that little female stagger him with such intense protective instinct? Maybe it was that little gleam of vicious instinct that reminded him of himself, given that was years ago that he'd nourished it into the malicious powerhouse he called himself today, but it was there all the same.
But she was nice too, not jaded like most mortals were in their self proclaimed superiority and spark of hate for everything different. Maybe it was that she was an outcast, undoubtedly having been a punching bag for years, and yet that had sharpened the gleam of a warrior in her green and grey eyes. There was fear in her eyes, yes, but there was also a yearning desire to stand and fight and tear apart anyone who dared to step on her, one that couldn't be taught. Maybe -and a part of him hated to even consider this- it was because she had a very rare coloring, one eye the color of iron and storm clouds, the other an emerald green like untouched grass. Maybe a part of him wanted to be able to claim such a lovely and rare creature as his, not that he wanted to claim her like a mate, but rather as a possession. Like a rare stone or sword he could lay claim to having polished and sharpened into a world cleaving weapon. Théoden sighed and turned away from those unsettling thoughts to glare at Finch, who grinned like a fiend,
"You know that you're debating between using one of two of the same plant, right?" Finch asked, his shit eating grin growing to chafing levels. Théoden made a mental note to throttle Tharose later and made a noncommittal noise in his throat,
"Well if you know so much, which one of these damn weeds is a painkiller?" Théoden asked.
Finch pointed to a small grove of enormous purple stalked plants with wicked black thorns and tiny blue flowers with a smug grin, they looked nothing like what Tharose had described. Théoden gave a sidelong glare at Finch, who held his hands up in placation,
"It's in the leaves, boil it down and make it into a tea, it should be more than enough for you. Hell, you probably won't be lucid enough to able to tell the difference between your feet and your neck." he said.
An edge of irritation seeped past the smug tone. Théoden gingerly plucked a leaf off the plant and held it at arms length, well aware of Finch's sadistic sense of humor and wanting no part of whatever horrors this plant could conceivably cause.
"You hold it." Théoden said gruffly, thrusting the leaf into the smaller boys hands to wipe his own finger in the grass.
Finch chuckled and smiled far too sweetly,
"What? Don't you trust me? That hurts Tea, it really does." Finch said, using the nickname Théoden loathed more than anything. Théoden growled and Finch laughed, strolling into the open door to Tharose's home with a devil may care attitude, Théoden mentally slapped himself for leaving the rutting door open in the first place and quickly followed the tiny trouble maker. He saw Tharose round a corner with a grin on his lips that vanished at the sight of Finch, Tharose glared at Théoden, this is why we close doors, he could practically read in his eyes. Théoden shrugged, this is why you get your own herbs, he shot back and Finch pouted,
"I'm sensing a theme here." he muttered. Tharose rolled his eyes,
"Oh, let me think. Maybe because you make sport of suffering and the last time you were here you scared the tar out of an old man by telling him his potion smelled poisonous? Or maybe because of that time you decided to mix the labels on all of my herb jars up when my last assistant was just starting out and you blew her up? Or maybe because you are a raging ass every time you manage to not be murderous for more than an hour? Yeah, gee, I wonder why I'm not leaping with joy." he deadpanned, crossing his arms and holding out a foot,
"Bad ankles." he said with a lethal amount of sarcasm.
"Théoden? Is that, are you-?" a pleasantly female voice called, it snapped my attention away from the arrogant mage to a small girl standing a little ways away, half hidden behind a corner. Something about her seemed... off. She appeared to be a meek human on the outside and positively reeked of humans, and yet...
"And who might you be, my fair little human girl." I purred with forced mischief twinkling in my eye, there was something about her aura that wasn't quite right, but I couldn't put my finger on it. The girl eyed me warily and her gaze flicked to Théoden, questioning. It took an effort not to bristle at the insult. The girl's expression turned stony and she set a fierce look straight into my eyes.
With a start, I noticed her eyes. One was a vibrant green like grass and the other a dark stormy grey, it was unsettling and lovely to see. The girl straightened and said,
"Who I am is no concern of yours." with a firmness in her sweet voice that honestly surprised me. I scrunched my brows and tried to see her aura, but was blindsided by the rage billowing from her very pores, it rocked me back on my heels.
"What the hell are you? Rancid abomination. Monster." I hissed, it was more to myself than to her, not thinking. The girl heard it though and clenched her jaw. She strode up to me with a purposeful stride, she had bandages on her side and a gash above her eyebrow and the scent of her blood was distracting and something about it was familiar. I was distracted enough so that I didn't see her hand coming until it connected with my face. The smack was so resoundingly loud that it echoed off the cavernous walls, I actually saw Tharose grin, the cheeky bastard. It was more out of surprise than pain that I put a hand to my cheek, a bit awestruck by the girl, her lip curled in a thinly veiled mask of rage and she said,
"You will speak to me with respect. I don't give a damn who you think you are or what you are, but don't you dare ever call me that again, or I will show you a monster."
Théoden was floored by the girls bravery, or idiocy. He'd wanted to slap the hell out of Finch like that for years, but Finch was a dangerous creature to cross. That said, the sound of the slap both filled him with delight and made him flinch. It sounded like it hurt, a lot.
Finch blinked,
"You do realize I could kill you, don't you?" he said. Théoden growled but the girl, before he could say anything, threw a pitcher at Finch with an almost imperceptible momentary flash of red across her irises an her lips twisted in a snarl.
"I've already had someone try to kill me today! Stars above, you aren't special in that power, you know! A human could kill me, a dog could kill me, a dedicated duck could probably finish me off! A plant could end me, a sickness could kill me, there are literally thousands of ways I could die in the next ten minutes alone, and what in the name of hell makes you special in that regard? Nothing!" she shouted, hurling various random objects at Finch with surprising force to punctuate each sentence.
"I spent the last ten years of my life putting up with spoiled boys with wandering eyes and loose tongues and I." a brick sailed past his head
"will." an inkwell.
"not." another brick that actually hit him in the nose with a crack and a spurt of blood that even Théoden hissed his sympathy at.
"put up with that absolute horse shit ever again!" she screamed at the top of her lungs and whipped a large chair carved from oak and the size of Ami herself at Finch with the speed of an archers arrow.
Tharose and Finch both looked stunned, but Théoden was grinning like a proud fiend. Finch recovered first and put his hands up in a placating 'whatever you say' gesture and turned to Théoden,
"You just couldn't have picked a submissive girl, could you?" Tharose was less humorous.
"WHAT THE RUTTING HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY HOUSE?!" he shrieked,
Ami jumped a little and looked a bit surprised at her own hands. The anger that had dominated her fled as quickly as it had appeared, her eyes went round and her stance turned meek, every hard edge left her in the same sweet state she'd always looked. Her hands started to shake and her eyes widened with understanding, her whole body trembled and she seemed to change, no longer the type for violence, but for looking down and away and never in the eye. She became an entirely different person, horrified and terrified by what she'd just done. Her eyes flicked over the mess, the spilled ink mixing with spilled blood on the floor, the shattered remains of the pitcher and a brick, the disturbed plates and papers that had been sent flying by the chair. She looked from the mess to a bleeding Finch to Théoden and back to her own hands, her fingers curled into fists she clutched to her chest, she took a step back, deep panic and fear in her eyes. "I...I'm so sorry." she whispered before bolting past the stunned boys and through the open door like the armies of hell were on her heels.
7: Queen of The PitsAmi ran and slammed through the portal door, relieved to see the greenery of a forest instead of some other crazy magical nonsense. Her feet were bare and she was in what she guessed was the Blonde boy's clothes, oversized working pants and some kind of blouse that didn't seem to have been worn before, and the chill of the fall air puckered her skin. She ran through the meadow, her feet collecting morning dew, and took off as fast as she could through the trees. She could've sworn she heard Théoden calling after her but she didn't stop or slow down, she ran harder. Dodging trees who's branches seemed to reach and claw at her like the creatures from her dreams and jumping over twigs and fallen logs to avoid making too much sound, save for her own ragged breath.
Finally after what felt like hours, she slowed and allowed her self to rest by a large oak tree and catch her breath. She was sure she'd put at least two miles between herself and the cabin and her chest ached from running, sweat drenched her back and stung her wounds but a vicious sort of pride in herself was there as well. She slumped down and rested her back against the tree, tilting her head back to gasp down cool breaths and steady her raging heart beat. The forest smelled pleasantly of dirt and pine and nighttime, the cold air was sore on her raw lungs but a welcome distraction.
Ami closed her eyes and let her mind drift inevitably back to what she'd done and her gut twisted with guilt and fear. How the hell had she thrown that chair with such strength? She thought about the demon girl and what she'd said, had that been her? "What is wrong with me?" she whispered to herself. In a fit of anger, at herself and that little boy and everything, she curled her hand into a fist and slammed it against the oak tree with as much force as she could manage. That cleared her head. She stood and held her hand to her chest, dancing around in pain and cursing fluidly at everything and anything under the sun that came to mind. Out of curiosity, she examined the oak, -having already thoroughly cursed it out and shaken her throbbing hand accusingly at it- and found it looked entirely the same as before she'd smacked it. She growled out another foul insult to the gods for mocking her, again, and stomped away from the tree. She sensed rather than saw the woodland animals fleeing from her and felt a tiny twinge of guilt entirely over shadowed by her own irritation and anger. "Stupid damn boy, I am not a monster. I'm not a monster..." she muttered to herself. But the nagging thoughts in her head wouldn't silence, but what if I am? What if I've always been a monster that was just too much of a coward to do anything? What if I am a monster? A murderer, an abomination. She took a deep breath and bellowed at the top of her lungs to shut up the voices,
"I'M NOT A GOD'S DAMNED MONSTER!"
The sound echoed through the trees and scared off a flock of nearby birds into flight.
She felt like hitting something and warily eyed the already red knuckles on her hand, she thought better of punching another tree but still felt furious and murderous. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a spindly game path of packed dirt and had to wonder what kind of predators lurked around here to hunt that game. She shook her head and sighed theatrically, glaring at the ground while she stiffly walked through the winding game path to what she hoped would be a creek. At least if she found a water source, she could find civilization and make her way to a tavern or somewhere she could pick a fight with a drunk or a whore.
Her hands actually itched to fight, she wouldn't let herself think about these past few years with the Penhallow's, but the anger she'd been blinded by when she was with Jean was still alive and roaring in her veins. It had been there for years alright, but smothered that day she'd been whipped into unconsciousness and started just going through the motions of 'living'. She hadn't really felt alive until she broke Jeans nose and ran into that snarling giant Fae he-beast.
She shut out thoughts of Théoden, he was likely furious and wary of her at best, at worst... at worst he likely was tracking her down and planning on turning her into a new chair cover to make it up to the boy. She shuddered at the thought of those swords pointed at her and let her mind drift back to fighting.
She loved the feeling of fighting, the way her breath seemed to fill her lungs better than any other time, the way she could exert everything and hold no part of herself back. The way her muscles tightened with the joy of being used to their full potential, the beautiful sore spots and bruises that she earned and made damn sure to pay back the inflictor for. She could defend and jab and hurt people in a fight exactly the same they hurt her, if not more so, and she loved it. The scent of blood when she broke a nose and the symphony of grunts and whimpers and yelps when she beat someone into the ground brought her elation and joy beyond what she could hope for.
It had started as a brawl in the local market when she'd only clawed her way out of the teaming masses of drunkards swinging blunt jabs and she'd gotten a taste for blood. Eventually, she'd begun sneaking out in the night to a cesspit the next town over aptly called 'the pits' that was a den of gambling, whoring, drinking, opium, and the major attraction of the pit fights. Two fighters enter, bets are made, the only rules were no weapons, and no backing down from a fight. Ami had spent months watching the fights and elbowing her way to a decent standing amongst the teeming masses of seedy spectators.
She finally worked up the nerve to enter the ring about eight months after she'd begun visiting, and was met with raucous laughter and jeers. She'd been accepted as a decent source for gossip and secrets, but she was still a little girl in their eyes. Willow knew everything about everyone and who they were sleeping with and how much money they made, and didn't mind talking while Ami was there stitching her into her dresses, she saw Ami as little more than furniture after all. Ami could practically make herself invisible when she wanted to in order to sneak secrets on her own, making her a valuable source. That didn't change the fact that she looked like a lady's maid. But she had insisted and fought her opponent with an innate knowledge of how to inflict pain she didn't remember being taught, but it was never wrong.
The utter silence in the usually chaotic, drunken den was thick and tense when Ami won the fight, a farm hand with arms as big around as her waist and an undefeated streak lay unconscious at her feet. After a beat, there was a roar of cheers and booing and frothing excitement as quick exchanges of cash and drugs changed hands. Ami had raised her arms and grinned like a demon, bellowing that she wouldn't stop until she was beat or the den closed, demanding a challenger. The crowd roared and stomped their feet in deafening assent. The den closed the fights at around three in the morning, so even if she won every fight from when she arrived onward, she'd still be able to leave with time to get home.
She'd won hundreds in that first night alone and had built a reputation with her sole nickname known as 'Queen of the pits'. When she did manage to come, -she only ever came once or twice a week- the spectators would always bet on her and she'd always win. She had amassed a kings fortune that she didn't dare bring to the Penhallow's home, paranoid they would find it, steal it, and whip her bloody for daring to earn it. It was still in a chest wrapped and sealed and buried in a supposedly haunted and thus abandoned backyard to an old burned down church where her mother had been buried.
Willow had found her sneaking back into her rooms one night and had had her whipped until she screamed, since then, she'd been trapped with every hour of her life monitored in one way or another. It had been six months, the door to her room was always locked at night until Willow dragged her around in the morning, the cook kept a beady eye on her like the old crow she was and the maid practically had her on a leash. She'd longed for that church, dreamed about it, begged the fates to let Willow forget one night to lock her away so she could escape to that church and run as far as the fortune would get her. It was on the edge of the village and she supposed she could likely go back and snatch it up whenever she liked, go off and start a new life, a free life.
Lost in thought, she hardly noticed the massive beast of silver fur and entirely too sharp claws and teeth until she was almost upon it. Ami could say with a fair amount of certainty that she had never climbed a tree faster in her life and was in the thin boughs that groaned under her weight and swayed in the breeze before the beast turned around. It was an enormous gods damned wolf, easily twice the size of the fattest wolf in the whole damn world with a head the size of a horses and claws as long as her hand that gleamed like knives. Ami gawked in stupid amazement at the thing, sure it made her want to faint or piss her pants, but it was so damned massive and oddly lovely that she couldn't help but stare in wonder and dry-mouthed shock. The wolf growled low in it's throat and raised it's hackles, blood and gore from it's recent prey hung from it's maw and Ami silently cursed out everything in the whole damn world. When I said I wanted a rutting fight, I sure as hell didn't mean a giant wolf the size of a bloody horse. She silently lamented. Shit shit shit shit. It was huffing the air, it's gaze gradually raising higher and higher- Ami made a last ditch effort to conceal herself behind the thinning greenery- and locked its gaze with her. Ami let out a small involuntary squeak of fear and stared, wide eyed, at the wolf who could probably use her like a toothpick.
If she didn't know any better, she would've said the thing looked surprised and vaguely intrigued, its green eyes sparkling like the blood on it's coat as it regarded her clinging to the tree like a distressed squirrel. Ami held her breath, not daring to move or even blink while watching the wolf, the wolf watching her right back until her lungs burned and she gasped a breath as silently as she could. The silver wolf sat on it's haunches and regarded her with a look that seemed to say, are you going to make me wait all day while you cling there? and cocked it's head to the side. Ami blinked and felt the rush in her pulse slow, her fear gradually washing away at the surprisingly civil wolf who was not trying to climb up after her. The thing probably could've cut the whole tree down with an absent swipe if it wanted to, but it seemed to be waiting for something, waiting for her, Ami supposed.
Ami steeled herself. What, in any realm of hell, could it harm to say hello? Maybe I've finally lost my mind. Maybe it's a magical beast that grants wishes to people who say hello instead of running and screaming. Or, maybe it's just a really big gods damned grey wolf waiting for it's next meal to scurry down the tree it's in so it can eat without lifting a paw. Ami swallowed against that fear and raised a tentative hand in greeting, "Hello, giant wolf." she said. The wolf's eyes twinkled with what she could've sworn was amusement and she tried again, "I do realize that maybe you don't know what I'm saying, but I would really love to ask you if you could refrain from eating me?" she said in a nervous tenor followed by an anxious giggle. "I'm very very sure that a nice fat deer would be far more satisfying. I'm all scars and bone, not at all appetizing in my own opinion." muttered Ami, slightly hysterical and giggling.
The wolf made a huffing sound that sounded suspiciously like it was laughing at her and Ami couldn't help but glare. I really have lost my mind. She thought. The silver wolf shot another amused look at her and curled up at the base of the tree, seeming decidedly comfortable and unlikely to move anytime soon.
Ami cursed with great colorful creativity and hurled pinecones from her perch as hard as she could. The wolf made another rumbling huffing sound.
8: Under the moonlightIt was nearly nightfall before the wolf stirred again, waking Ami from her dazed half asleep state with a jolt. She hissed at the pain that erupted from her wounds and glared at the offending wolf, who in return looked mildly concerned and mostly amused. The air was growing steadily colder and Ami tried and failed to fight off a shiver, the light was fading like ink in a pool and the pinpricks of stars were steadily gaining numbers.
She shoved her fingers into her armpits in an attempt to keep warm and curled up as well as she could while still clinging to the branches. The wolf made a whimpering sound and put its paw on the trunk gently, looking genuinely concerned, And if that isn't the most insane thing I've ever thought, I can't say I know what is. Ami thought bitterly, glaring at the wolf she admonished,
"Oh, shut up. If it weren't for you being there, I could get down and make a shelter or something." The wolf looked mildly hurt but Ami continued,
"Even if you do seem civilized, I'd rather take my chances on freezing that being eaten by you." she said with a sniff. Winter was going to grace the valley with snow soon enough and the bitter air was growing colder and colder, the thin clothes and lack of shoes were ill prepared to keep it out. She saw the treetops sway and heard the boughs groan before a strong wind nearly knocked her out of the tree and ripped at her hair and clothes with icy fingers.
Ami had to bite back a yell of pure frustration when a chill shuddered up her spine so hard she lost her grip and nearly fell again, ending up swinging so she was hanging upside down by her feet with a yelp. The wolf made a similarly frustrated sound mixed somewhere between a whine and a growl, Ami cursed at the wolf without looking at it and made a particularly vulgar gesture at it. She managed to grapple her way back on the branch upright and impatiently ran a hand through her tangled hair, she let out a sigh and glared once more at the wolf, who in turn was glaring right back at her. Once again, she was almost sure she could read the words in it's eyes, Quit being stubborn you stupid ass. You're going to freeze, get down here. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, "Fine. You want me to come down, move back as a sign you understand what I'm saying." She demanded with a wave of her hand.
The wolf actually rolled its eyes, but obliged and took a step back with an indignant huff, much to her surprise. Ami examined the wolf a bit closer, searching for some indication of blood lust in it's bright eyes, but was surprised to find nothing but rather human irritation.
"I'm a damn idiot." she grumbled at herself, but began grappling her way down the tree anyway.
The wolf seemed to smile, or at least showed its teeth in a way that didn't seem threatening, when her bare feet touched the mossy forest floor. Ami tensed, preparing herself to run like hell if the wolf so much as leaned forward too fast, but it didn't. The wolf sat down on its haunches and stretched out with a huff, it's furry belly exposed and inviting. Ami hesitated, wondering if she should run and risk her chances being caught by Thèoden and his wrath, or cuddle up to an actual wild wolf with even bigger and sharper teeth than her forearm. She decided on the wolf.
"Now, don't you do anything you great lout, or I swear on all the saints I will brain you with a rock." Ami scolded the wolf when it raised its head to look at her and impatiently thumped its tail. The wolf fairly glared in annoyance and Ami glared back at it, half tempted to just dare it to start something. She was surprised to see the wolf look away first, and began inching her way steadily closer on her toes.
The wolf was as large as a small pony, it's great chest rising and falling with steady breath and delicious warmth all but radiating from the massive beast. She put her hand out to touch its fur, pausing and looking to the wolf for permission before she remembered it was an animal. The wolf made a huffing laugh and Ami allowed her fingers to sink into the achingly soft fur, warming her chilled fingers and filling her chest with a sense of delight at such a luxury. She fairly cringed at the sound of her own delighted sigh escaping her lips unbidden, such a weakness to soft things.
The forest rustled in the stinging wind that nipped at Ami's face and toes, so she begrudgingly curled against the wolf's flank, sinking her freezing toes into the warm fur on it's belly and delighting in the surprised and not entirely thrilled noise the wolf made from the cold. Ami resolved to stay awake until morning, but the gentle sound of the wolf's warm breath and her own exhaustion eventually dragged her into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
Ami couldn't say what, exactly, it was that made her wake up, but her eyes opened to silver white fur reverberating with a low growl. At first Ami stilled, internally cursing herself out with every filthy swear she could think of for being stupid enough to sleep by a gods be damned wild wolf in the middle of a widely feared cursed forest. She could've slapped herself when looking back on the situation with hindsight, but once the last vestiges of sleep left her muddled mind, she realized the wolf wasn't growling at her. It was half crouched over her with one enormous paw on the other side of her back and its tail wrapped, if Ami didn't know any better, in a protective gesture around her curled form.
Ami craned her neck to look up at the wolf, it's lips were drawn back in a snarl and its shining teeth were bared into the dark oblivion between a set of trees and it's hackles were raised, Ami blinked, What in hell could make you that damn mad? she wondered.
Ami bit back her own sudden stab of fear at what could make this beast upset and hopped into a crouch under the wolf, who made no sudden moves or sounds at her quick movements, but it's tail curled around her waist as if to hold her back. She slapped away the furry rope of muscle and bone, hissing out a soft curse at the wolf for treating her like an invalid it had the gal to act like it had a claim over. The wolf gave her an almost exasperated look that seemed to include insults at her intelligence and a small bit of grudging respect, Ami shook her head, "God, what I wouldn't give to see inside your head." Ami breathed so quietly it was carried away in the wind. The wolf glanced sidelong at her and Ami was suddenly struck with the realization that she was holding a conversation with a magical wolf.
The gentle rustle of leaves in the dark had them both snapping their gazes back to the dark woods, Ami felt a snarl on her lips and a growl in her throat, but she hadn't intended for either one to come to her. The world seemed to slow under her feet and she filled her nose with a deep breath. The scent of nighttime, leaf rot, pine, and the wild and vaguely musky scent of the wolf infused her chest with a certain calm. She pushed her red and cold feet under herself and stood, letting the rage she felt with Jean and that boy rise until it was just under the surface. The strange voice and strength seemed to come to her in moments of rage and pain, she just hoped it wasn't her simply going mad or coincidences she over blew in her own mind.
She made herself think of this like another fight in the pit, just another half drunk brute with such great stupidity it was a wonder it wasn't lethal, its just a game. Mortal. I am calm, I am vicious and ruthless. I like hurting people, this will be fun and I will be rewarded handsomely if I just beat this idiot into the dirt. She forced herself into the mindset, letting the bloodlust pour through her blood and pound in her ears like a war drum. The farce was like a second skin she let sink its hooks deep enough into her that it felt almost real and true, deep enough that she could ignore her real self.
She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, lashing down the part of her that cared, beating back the part of her that was afraid, gagging the part of her that clung to weakness and hurling them into the deep dark pit of her soul, her pulse slowed and her mind went quiet. She opened her eyes, and she didn't feel anything. She let herself just be a tool for agony and bloodshed, and she made herself like it. She plastered a cold smile on her lips that often scared off any would be assailants and pretended not to notice the wolf cast a glance at her that seemed filled with concern. She had wanted a fight anyway, this was just the universe giving her what she'd asked for.
"Whomever it is, whatever it is, it's mine. You get that?" She whispered to the wolf with an icy glance. The wolf blinked at her and she turned her back on it to face the rustling.
Ami grinned and cracked her knuckles in anticipation,
"Oh, come and get it." she murmured into the darkness,
cracking her own neck and rolling her shoulders as anticipation slithered up her spine. The wolf growled, a warning tone to it, Ami ignored it.
"Please try me, darling." she said a little louder with a smirk,
"I've been dying to get a chance to fight." she added.
She licked her lips, she could actually taste her own blood lust and desire to fight as clear as she could feel the cold air spurring her skin. The moon peaked out behind a cloud and illuminated the forest in half shadowed ghostly light.
Her breath caught in her throat when the intruders face was illuminated and the anticipation froze and died on her tongue. The carefully placed second skin was ripped from her, leaving her feeling suddenly naked and filled to the brim with agonizing terror so profound she choked on it. The figure had skin as pale as bone and her grey hair hung loose and matted around her shoulders like a shawl, her clothes were ragged and her skin was marred by blood and dirt and wounds, but she grinned. Ami staggered back a step and fear swelled in her chest and waterlogged her limbs, panic choked her and old terror rushed back to her and blurred her eyes with tears.
"You- but how?" Ami choked out, collapsing to her knees, she couldn't make her lungs take in breath more than short gasps. She pushed her fingers into her hair and balled them up, tears dripping from her face, "No. NO. I left, you don't get- you can't... you cant do this anymore. You don't get to do this anymore, you can't control me..." Ami shook her head, her thoughts wouldn't cooperate with her tongue. She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, she couldn't run. She felt as though she'd been poisoned, or stabbed, something inside felt so fundamentally wrong it burned. She heard a brittle sounding laugh and tipped back her tear stained face to look in dismay and helpless horror at the source.
"Oh dear, you foolish girl. I own you. You never had the will to do anything yourself in the first place." Willow Penhallow said and smiled back at her like death itself in the darkness.
9: Shadow's songThe wolf snarled a grumbling and bone chilling growl, Willow raised a distasteful brow at him and flicked her hand. He was hurled into an oak with a crack and a yelp at the same time as Ami's vision went white with agony. Pain slammed through her like lightning, she screamed and dropped to her back, trembling and holding her head. Her back arched off the ground as a scream tore through her, again and again.
She could hear Willow chuckling but the sound was covered by the sheer pain that tore through her head and flashed memories through her mind. Years and years of the things Ami had suffered, the indignities and the humiliation, the pain and unrelenting terror rocketed through her all over again with a vengeance. "Please..." she whispered, her throat was raw from shrieking but the desperation made her want to howl until her voice left her forever, if only to make it stop. Tears blurred her vision and she heard Willow laugh again, before being hurled into a darkness so complete, she wished for death.
-------------------------------------------------------
It was dark. Like the blackest cave in the deepest bowels of the world, with one single flickering flame atop a short, fat candle. Ami tentatively walked towards the light, not remembering where she was or how she'd gotten here, in fact, she couldn't remember anything but her name. "Hello?" she asked into the foreboding quiet, her voice echoed off some far away wall. Ami fidgeted with her hair and considered what to do... what to do... but... The doubts of the situation pressed in until nothing made sense and she couldn't make her thoughts cooperate into something coherent.
"My, but aren't you a weakling." a voice drawled from the darkness. Ami blinked, "Hello?" she asked again. After a beat, a man walked into the circle of flickering light cast by the candle, he was tall and gracefully built. He wore the heavy fine clothes of a noble and shiny brown boots, his brown hair trimmed short and simple, hanging to the top of his ears in some places. His skin glowed in the candlelight like he was dusted with gold, his blue eyes glittering. Ami blinked at him, he seemed to recognize her, but she didn't think she'd ever met him before, though something about him tickled the back of her mind.
She cocked her head to the side and squinted at him, he laughed at that, "Gods alive, it's like you're actually a weak little human." His gaze turned inquisitive. Ami watched him cross the distance between them and didn't move away when he grabbed her hand and then her chin, she hoped he would say something approving. He was awful handsome, so she didn't know why she didn't want to kiss him, but she very much wanted to make him pleased with her for some reason she couldn't name. He seemed to come to a decision and smiled, Ami beamed back up at him, delighted to see him pleased, "And here I was, thinking you'd be a threat." he murmured, toying with a thick tendril of her dark hair.
He leaned in close to her ear, his breath stirring her hair and brushing her skin, "It's such a damn shame I can't keep you as my own, but die well, sister dearest." he whispered. Ami was suddenly swarmed by the shadows, thick as oil on her skin, choking her, clogging her eyes, blinding her, and burning her skin. She collapsed and the last thing she saw was the boy- he'd called her sister- smiling at her with that same little pleased grin.
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The shadows sang to her, high and sweet as they ripped her mind open to fish out the most pain they could. It was an old song, sung at the fall festivals to honor the old gods and princes of hell. There was a legend about the singing shadows, they belonged to the princes of hell and they sang their song to those whomever their master chose for them. Every line tore something from you until the final line stole your soul away.
Seven devils, seven sins, seven men of twisted will.
Ami flinched when they brushed one, all too fresh in her mind, they forced it in front of her, wrapped it around her, made her live it again.
Six days of lust, six days of sin, to play the game but never win. They sang triumphantly.
Moonlight glinted off the dew graced grass, stirred occasionally only by a gentle breeze and small feet creeping across the lawn. Ami held her breath as she inched ever closer to her room, the silence of the night pressing against her skin like an accusation. The breath of a lover on her neck before plunging the knife through her heart, Ami swallowed back the fear and let out a sigh once her fingers touched the door to her little room. 'I am a wicked girl for even thinking about leaving, they took me in when no others would. I owe them.' she reminded herself when her fingers stilled on the door, reluctant to return to the life she lead under the sun. She drew in a steadying breath and turned the knob, gently pushing the door open far enough so she could squeeze in but not far enough to squeak, and slipped in.
"So, the whore returns." said an icy voice.
Five are bound in coldest silk, wrapped for death but never killed.
Ami whirled and saw, sitting on her small bed, Willow with fire in her eyes. Ami prostrated herself on the floor, her nose to the dirt and her heart pounding out a rhythm of panic and regret. "M-mistress Penhallow." she breathed. Willow scoffed and stood, walking over slowly to come in front of Ami, who dared not look up. Willow put her foot under Ami's chin and tipped her face up with a disdainful toe, "Where were you?" she asked quietly, dangerously. Ami's mind raced to come up with a suitable answer, "I... I was only out for a walk, Mistress. I woke feeling ill a-and I thought fresh air would help. I-" Willow's boot stomped down on the top of her head, cutting off her lie and slamming her face painfully into the dirt.
Ami found she couldn't help herself when blood dribbled down her chin from where she'd bitten her lip, she whimpered. She knew she'd made a mistake the second it left her lips, Willow actually snarled like a wild bear and dug her heel down harder. "You dare to try to run off, presumably fucking every man from here to Vere, and come back here expecting my kindness?" she said and grabbed a handful of Ami's tangled dark hair in her taloned fist, dragging her to her feet with a merciless yank. Tears sprang to Ami's eyes but she bit back a strangled yell, clamping her hands over Willows to keep her from ripping her hair clean out. "You expect my mercy?" she asked and slapped Ami across the face so hard her vision blurred for a moment and her ear rang with a high whine.
Four to bring enchantment down, safe of course but never sound.
Willow threw Ami to the floor with disgust evident on her face, but her lips slowly curled into a grin, "I have just the right punishment in mind for you." she almost purred, her voice as soft as rabbits fur and her eyes, dangerous as the viper to kill it.
Willow called in the maid and the chef from their rooms in the house and had them restrain Ami by each arm, dragging her into the night again. Upon Willows instruction, the two servants dragged her to the barn and threw her to her knees before a structural post in the center of the dirt floor, thick dark wood worn smooth with age, and had them lash her wrists to the post with her face pressed to the wood.
Ami's heart pounded erratically with terror and she yanked at the bindings, jarring her wrists in the process and she heard behind her the slithering of leather on leather. The chef came forward and slashed a knife down the back of Ami's dress, opening the thin fabric and baring her smooth skin. Ami tried to prepare herself, as she had done for years when Willow struck her, for the blow to come and for her to endure and for it to end.
Three, to fall and be replaced.
The sound came first: a soft whistle of air, then the crack, lash against flesh, a split second before the jagged pain ripped at her. Ami jerked against the restraints, all other thoughts obliterated from her mind save the savage pain in her back, she didn't even have a moment to process before the next crack came, ripping at her shoulder with brutality. Each savage lashing came one after the other in barbaric efficiency, ripping and tearing and slashing at her skin.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Ami screamed as she had never truly screamed before, helpless and endlessly lost in her own blinding hell, losing time and reason as the blood trickled down her back in fat drops. She lost her voice after the sixteenth lash ripped a gash so deep she could feel it in her muscles and silently sobbed. Whistle, crack, jerk, sob. The sick rhythm and endless cycle. She distantly heard the maid trying to stop Mistress Penhallow, warning that Ami may well die if she continued on. Whistle, crack, jerk, sob. The chef seemed preoccupied with vomiting outside. Whistle, crack. Ami bit her tongue and braced for another blow, and something in her mind fractured a bit when it didn't immediately come. Sweat, blood, and tears dripped down her trembling body, her back throbbing in agony and her wrists burning where she'd yanked against the ropes till they cut her skin. She gasped in breaths, stared at the dirt floor, smelling the warm hay scent of barns and the musk of animals, the metallic taint of her own blood obtrusive in the suddenly peaceful silence.
Two. Below the last god's grace.
Willow sauntered unhurriedly to stand in front of Ami, the metal tipped whip dripping in her hand, silvery and black with her blood in the moonlight. She cut Ami's bindings away from her raw wrists and Ami collapsed into the straw and dirt of the floor, curling in on herself, her mind utterly silent.
Willow murmured something to Ami, and it took her a few minutes to search for the meaning until she realized she'd said to her, "Half breed thing. Better to break you now, since it just won't stay down." with smug satisfaction. Something inside her recoiled at that, confused and angry but it was faint, muffled under the deafening silence that garnished psychological wounds as well as physical ones. Dark unconsciousness pulled at her. The thing inside her seemed to be upset, almost... yelling... she let herself stay down. Whatever it was could just rot, she was done with pain and hurt and fighting. She wanted to sleep, wanted to be swallowed by the darkness at the edges of her vision and forget everything. She wanted to forget the pain and hurt that was Ami Valjana, the refugee from a broken home, the freak of the orphanage, the devil marked wicked girl, she wanted it gone. All of it.
The dark puddle of her blood began moving and darkening and wrapping around her, tight as a noose. Beings inside the blood spoke, begging her to give herself over, clawing at her and raking their icy fingers down her skin, through her hair. She knew, as soon as she gave up, they would sing the final line of their song and she would never bleed again. 'One is done and all alone, a plaything for the dark king's throne.' such a simple line, really. She lay there, unmoving in the dark, rallying her strength to speak, to surrender, and to finally be done with it all.
As if through water, she heard someone yelling, muted, choppy, and unintelligible. She didn't catch what it said, but it gave her pause. She held back her voice, the shadows slithering and swarming angrily around her, more insistent that she give in. They pressed tighter against her, digging into her wounds with cruel little fingers. A small spark of rebellion ignited in her, she listened harder to try and reach the voice, straining against the little shadows.
'...-up'
'-Get up'
'Ami. Get up.'
She remembered the voice, but she couldn't place it.
'Ami. Get up. So help me Ami, get the fuck up.'
Leviathan.
The knowledge was a jolt in her mind, sending the shadows scattering away, slithering back into the night like rats from a burning ship. Ami gasped in a breath, turning over onto her elbows and trying to suck air back into her battered lungs, sputtering. She remembered. Jean, Leviathan, Théoden, Tharose, Willow. Her back burned and her mind spun over everything, things suddenly making sense in a sick way that they never had before.
Willow. It was always when she was near Willow that she felt weak, submissive, broken. She remembered a hundred moments, a hundred forgotten half heard comments and half seen impossibilities. Her head, forever filled with fear, felt blissfully empty of everything but a smoldering anger.
She looked up, and saw Leviathan standing where Willow had been moments ago, holding that goddamn whip that haunted her dreams still. Leviathan held her gaze and slowly, the whip went up in flames in the demon girls ash coated fingers, until it was nothing more than a wisp of memory.
Leviathan offered her ash covered hand to Ami and dragged her to her feet, they clasped forearms and something passed between them, understandings and apologies they wouldn't insult each other with by speaking them. "We will be one. I was... mistaken. You and I need each other. For now, we shall have accords and rip that whore apart." Leviathan said in her rich and thickly accented voice, baring her teeth at the thought in what Ami surmised was probably a smile. "We can speak of a more permanent accords later." She agreed.
Leviathan nodded, "Then let me out." she said, "Give me command, and I swear to you, we will be safe." she implored.
Ami nodded again, "How?"
"Kiss me." Leviathan said, no lust or amore behind her words, only the simplest of explanations.
Ami recoiled, memories of Jean sending a spear of fear through her. A kiss, she never wanted to kiss anyone ever again. Leviathan nodded in understanding, having felt her spike of fear as clearly as Ami had,
"It is how power was taken from you, for another mortal it may be baring their throat or allowing their hands to be bound. For you, that pig stole away a kiss you do not wish to offer to anyone, since it is how control has been stolen before. When you willingly offer that to me, it is a forging of a bond between us, and it makes our transition easier, the difference between stumbling around in dark or navigating in light." her brows knit together, striving to explain it better. "It is your consent as the weaker being, I suppose. The baring of your soul and your trust." she finished.
"... Alright..." Ami said, a little surprised, but she supposed it made sense. A kiss was the ultimate show of respect, trust, and ascendance in the ancient ways as well as what she feared, she focused on trying to think of it as the former. She pressed a soft kiss to Leviathan, the forehead in blessing, each cheek in forging a friendship, and finally a soft press of lips to lips in baring her trust. Leviathan breathed out a sigh, as if a knife under her ribs had been pulled free, and the world faded into sweet darkness. Leviathan's parting words ringing in her head, "Rest well, and trust in me, my human half." before she finally, finally, slipped into dreamless sleep for the first time in years.
------------------------------------------------------
Ami stopped screaming, her back lowered slowly back down to the ground and her fingers gently left her ravaged, tangled locks and sunk into the dirt by her sides. Willow paused, confused, and narrowed her beady eyes in concentration. Ami didn't flinch under the attack, didn't so much as twitch. Her fingers in the dirt, Willow realized, were black as coal and not from filth. She watched with dawning horror as realization crashed over her, this was not her slave girl, not the submissive child she could beat into the ground.
Her eyes opened. Black as ravens feathers. And all hell broke loose.
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