The fourth trial – in Araminta’s educated opinion – must’ve been one of giving a sense of false accomplishment to ambitious warriors. Fetch a rat tailed cod. Before she’d started the trials she’d found out it wasn’t as simple as going to any lake or river to find it. This particular fish had only ever been seen in the swampy river village of Neive – a village that’d been abandoned for almost an entire generation. For why? No one in the Imperial City could tell her, and unfortunately their rest stop hadn’t been the best of places to gather information. At least she’d already procured some hooks and fishing line beforehand, so other than bait they were prepared.
The rain, for the most part, had let up to a cloudy drizzle. Not exactly pleasant to travel in, but not so terrible that it was miserable. In fact, because of Araminta’s lighter, healthier disposition (whether it was magic or simply actually getting proper sleep and meals), she was in good spirits.
Had that not already known by the map where Neive should be, they knew they were coming into it’s boundaries by the sudden shift of the landscaping. Trees had lost all leaves long ago and were nothing but withered brittle trunks and branches twisted towards the skies. Grasses and bushes were struggling to grow, tainted a sickly yellow or covered in brown spots or a white fuzzy fungus. The road turned into unstable, rotted wooden paths that weaved and winded around the shallow river waters that looked just as awful as the land around it. Instead of what should be fresh clean streams and cultivated ponds, thick clumps of gooey orange and putrid yellow were all along the banks like an oozing oil spill.
Araminta dared to bend down and touch it, pulling her hand back along with a long sticky slime she couldn’t shake off!
“It’s blighted… the whole town is blighted.” she remarked with a wide eyed discomfort.
He knew very little about Neive. Even as a citizen and the suggested prince of this land, the village itself had never been exactly given a story. At least not to his ears. Even the years under the duchess that spent her time at least making sure he wasn’t a total barbarian, only every glanced over the mention of it. All he knew was it didn’t have any residents. It was a place that was talked about but not enough.
Being here, he could see why. It was by no means the sort of place that people would want to have a conversation about. Even in the efforts of expressing it was terrible. Surely no amount of commentary would give this place the proper sort of detailing that it may have needed to convey just how bad it was. Even the air here felt tacky.
Seemingly taking the way Araminta sought to touch the banks only to have a snot-string attached to her fingers, did he pull out a cloth to reach out and take that of wrist. Not wanting to find out that the slime might be akin to some sort of glue that would get them stuck together. Taking due care to try and scrub while she pointed out that the place was for no less word, blighted. He hummed to agree, “No more touching.” He expressed sooner. “May not know what caused this but… do not want to return carrying a new disease, parasite or worse either.”
“I don’t hear anything,” she added on, noticing that there wasn’t a single tweet of birds or even the buzz of flies or crickets. Not that it was completely silent. When the wind blew a particularly heavy gust, they could hear the CLACK of a window shutter against wood somewhere nearby as well as that old creeeaaaaak of rotten things. Otherwise it was unnaturally quiet. Even the animals didn’t want anything to do with this place.
Once he was done with his studious cleaning, Araminta pulled her hand back to wiggle her fingers. Nothing felt tinglie or burning, so at least that meant the goopy stuff wasn’t acidic in nature. Just disgustingly sticky and unpleasant.
Her sense of adventure was far greater than her sense of fear in this case, thus Araminta led the way deeper into the village, following along the wooden docks and being watchful for loose boards. If she fell in these waters Theon was sure to have a heart attack.
“I’m not sure fish can even live in this… But they must? If others have passed through the trial before?” she pondered out loud. Mentally taking note of how the village had been laid out, which direction would lead the flow of traffic to the markets. Which path would be more towards huts and family houses. The place must’ve been homey and cozy at one point. Full of colorful and life… there was faded paint on all of the ruined buildings, down to the dark wood below. Scatter items like wheel barrows, carts, work tools… they were all left there. As if everyone in the town had just dropped what they were doing and vanished.
Though signs that others had come through here were scattered about as well. Old swords, shields, weapons half buried in muck or stuck in the side of broken away decking. A skeleton of something HUGE lay half in some of the water. Long since rotted away to time.
The lack of anything natural besides the wind rattling some old boards ought to be the omen enough for either of them. That this place was a no more than an abandoned cesspool because it was no longer hospitable. For fauna, flora and more. Though he gave the rag a bit of a look as if debating on what to do with it, the decision came swift. In the form of a fireball and literally incinerating it. Not about to take a chance that the ooze she had touched wasn’t in fact some sort of bacteria life that would spread if they took it away from here.
With a tarry after her towards that of the fetid waters, he gave it a probing look. “You assume the fish has no legs.” He suggested with that straight deadpan face of his. “No trial thus far has been merely what it says.” A slide of foot backwards and he turned to look around the town. Lodging the items of various qualities into his memory before strolling somewhat away. Completing a full one eighty in a few seconds to stare back at the water source and outwards. “Infection. Came from the water source, I believe.”
“Theon,” she chided, shooting him a wide amused smile. “I hope it doesn’t have legs!”
Imagine chasing a legged fish around an abandoned town! Araminta would need a net instead of a fishing line and hook. Before she could erupt into giggles at the thought, she gave him a soft hum of agreement about the waters being tainted. Water was the very life and soul of this particular village – they’d built everything above it and around it. Whatever it was had seemed into the land and the plants.
Then with a sharp intake of breath, Araminta realized it had soaked into the people and animals as well.
Off at a good distance movement had caught her eye. A soft shambling shuffle, knee deep in the river water, a physical form of naught but skin and bones. Pale as death and eyes bleached white, whomever they once were, they weren’t considered living anymore. Worn clothing and rusted armor half hanging off their body and an expression as blank as could be. They sure weren’t local either by the cut of their armor, which meant this was either some poor wayward traveler that made a stop in the wrong place or was once a participant in the trials.
“This isn’t right…” she whispered to Theon, concern furrowing on her brow. “There’s a curse here, we need to do something. Who lets a whole town just die and does nothing?”
Well. Araminta realized who the very moment she said it.
With a nonchalance that came naturally, he shrugged at her hope that the fish she was meant to catch, wasn’t running around on land with some reedy human legs. Though he wouldn’t be too surprised if it was. Settling instead for a stare that could have spoken you’ve seen fae far stranger than that. A fish with legs would hardly be strange, would it?
Whatever happened here was promptly devised that it came from the water. Likely some sort of pollutant that had no discretion of what it attacked. The water itself had probably been pristine to the point that it was likely the water hole. Where villagers drew up water for drinking, cooking, washing and the likes. Their lifeblood. And a perfect way to spread an infection that sapped life with a avarice stricken desire.
At first he sort of just accepted this fate. Well, not at first, he had already accepted it long before that. Just there seemed to be another present here in which drew her eye firstly. His own a bit after when the whisper came about how this wasn’t right. Resting the silver rims upon the dainty dame with all the sort of soundless answer that anyone ever needed to hear. Of course they knew who would allow a town to just become a wasteland of toxins and plague. It was likely in her plan to do so as well. “What do you want us to do to help?” No question of why she would want too or even the more obvious of how she expected it done. He simply asked her what she wanted to do to fix it, ready to follow that lead to whatever sort of idea that came.
“Hmn,” was her hummed reply. That was a very good question. What did Araminta want to do? This was a great deal bigger of a problem than a need to rotate farmlands or a bad crop. Nor was it even remotely close to being her responsibility of problem.
…just… how could she leave it like this without at least doing a little investigating? The blight wasn’t natural, Araminta could plainly see that. Surely they could find the source of it at the bare minimum. The rest… well, Araminta would puzzle it out when the time came. She just knew it wasn’t right to leave it like this without at least trying something. An entire piece of land left to suffer and spread plague out to others was a dangerous thing to just leave alone.
“We should look around and follow the water upstream? If it’s in the water itself, we’re bound to find where it started,” she suggested.
He could swear he heard the cogs of her thoughts cranking and clanking together with the process of consideration. Arranging a plethora of ideas together till she was able to settle on one or two that might be feasible to do rather than anything outrageously crazy. Not that he was about to say those weren’t likely to be considered at some point.
Moreover, he was interested to see just what she had in mind at all. This place had been left as it was for many years and it was likely the contaminates had spread much further than it originally had. Leeching into the ecosystem that if any creature was bold enough to enter and drink here in some fashion, they would rot from the inside out. Adding to the problem.
The easiest reply was that of wandering upstream to see if that was where the problem began at all. Leaving him to nod and motion forward. It was the best place to start, “Perhaps you can see for your rotten fish at the same time.” He offered and almost felt compelled to tell her to be wary of unusual toads asking her for a kiss.
“A foul fish,” she corrected with that smile of hers, already taking the lead of this so called investigation. Wisely wary of their surroundings, for if there was one shambling undead body, there was bound to be others and they didn’t yet know if they’d be reactive or dangerous. The voracious types that took to fresh flesh, or just wandering soulless bodies.
While they traveling through this derelict village of wooden skeletons and fetid waters, maybe Theon should’ve warned her about suspicious toads, as they certainly existed. Despite the otherwise dead landscape, there did appear to be life still within the waters beneath their feet. Although, surely not unaffected by the blight. Toads with too many legs and eyeballs were easy to spy alongside the water banks and sitting atop floating algae. There were glimpses of fish in the deeper waters that pooled into ponds. Grotesquely ugly faces and fishy maws lined with teeth.
On leaning over a piece of railing, Araminta hoped none of these wicked looking fish liked eating flesh either! She even tested a bit by taking her staff and poking the end into the water at some of the fish to see if they got vicious, with no conclusive results.
She followed the flow of the water upstream right through to the edge of the village, where the river seemed to be coming out of a cave in the cliffside. A very large cavernous looking cave.
“Bears wouldn’t live in a wet watery cave, would they?” she asked hopefully.
The look offered to her correct might as well been the sassiest thing he had ever done. With a face that didn’t really show any sort of emotion, it did well to express that he found there was hardly a difference between foul and rotten in this place. Add on the motion of the walking dead on the side and he might suggest that his rotten was the correct statement after all!
But clearly there was more to this all when the bodies of the dead were able to be reanimated. All the more reason he comfortably dogged after her leading strides. Idly keeping the surveying lamps going in all directions. Eyeing anything that could be potential danger that required a swift action to keep themselves on the side of safety.
He’d pause however to look at the cave she was mentioning with that of a bear potentially living within it. Urging a longer contemplation that was probably necessary. “Not alive ones.” He decided to point out before insisting they were to continue on. “I do not know bears would be the largest concern.”
The rejoining look Araminta gave him was a mix of amusement and horror. Because if undead bears weren’t even the biggest of their problems, then they would truly be in trouble! And he said so with that deadpan face of his and even tone, which it made it all the funnier to the princess who despite all of her gentle softness seemed to have a dark sense of humor.
“Then I suppose we should hope it is bears,” she remarked, continuing the carefully steps away from the village proper.
Here, the handy wooden walkways had stopped, giving way to the natural pebble and dirt of the swampy river bank. A large pond or tiny lake having formed coming out of the cave mouth itself, which Araminta imagined must’ve been quite beautiful when the edges weren’t tinged with that sickly yellow and orange goo. She guessed most must’ve done their fishing here as the water appeared quite deep – enough she couldn’t peered down to the bottom easily. Cave rivers were a natural phenomena she was familiar with, as many existed up in the mountains. Most being fed by melting snowcaps in the warmer seasons, though a few in the deeper valleys seemed to bubble up from the ground as hot water springs.
At first Araminta was worried there would be no way into the cave with how far the water expanded, but as they approached the massive opening in the cliff side she spotted the tiny worn trail that led along the immediate edge where a walkable ledge existed and was expanded with stepping stones. Careful of footing on the wet rocks she proceeded to lead the way, too curious to be truly afraid, though wisely wary of what might be found.
Everything appeared as any cave should, with the crystalline looking stalactites growing down from the ceiling and the jutting stalagmites coming up from the ground. Strangely she wasn’t spying in cave creatures – the sort of bugs that loved hiding in watery caves like these. Giant centipedes or flapping moths. There was just… algae, moss and slime. So much slime. It even started to take on a luminescent glow as they drew deeper in to the dark cave. Araminta drew up the hood of her cloak, just the tiniest bit afraid some of that slimy stuff was going to drip down into her hair.
All of that slime should’ve been a hint.
The cave corridor opened up into a wide cavern, a cave lake in it’s own right and it was filled to the brim with giant blobs of putrid hues. Yellow, orange, green… globby slime creatures, converging and rolling, gooing and spewing inside what should’ve been fresh clear waters. Where normally one might find a single slime, maybe a pair or a small grouping if one had freshly divided… this was an outright slime orgy and possibly the most disturbingly disgusting thing Araminta had ever seen.
That, was not at all what he was expecting to come upon when they had finally entered that of the cave. But it made a inconclusive bit of evidence that whatever it was that had plagued the waters, was certainly either aided by the presence of such a conglomerate of slimes, or had been because of the creatures.
They weren’t certainly helping it now! That much was for certain, though he had never heard of slimes contamination being strong enough to make living dead. Unless they were magically altered, created or influenced. Which he shouldn’t be quick to believe otherwise.
Just now? Well he looked at Araminta with a sort of expectation that she was going to have some grand scheme come together in hopes that would clean the source of water and make the oozing things take a hike. He personally had no idea how to do such things unless they dried them out aggressively. And he had no wind magic for such things.
By the bewildered and disgruntled look on Araminta’s face, she also had not expected such a sight. Even casting Theon a glance hoping he might have some bit of his usual helpful tips, but found that he seemed to be at a loss as much as she. The princess was having a similar train of thought as well. This many slimes would certainly explain the sticky gloopy state of the river waters, but they weren’t exactly toxic all on their own. Not even to caught an entire village to be blighted from the trees and plants all the way to the people.
These slimes had to be a side effect of something else.
Thus Araminta continued forward, walking along the edges of the cave lake looking for fresh clues, carefully not to get too close to the edge as every time she did a couple of the slimes seemed to reach out little slimy tendrils as if they were going to snatch her right off the bank. The last thing she wanted was a slime bath!
As they rounded the bend, the cavern floor opened up to a spacious area, dimly glowing by the luminescence of the slimes. Though when they approached closer some sort of magic triggered and with a fwoom basins of black flames lit up to cast the cave into a hue of gloomy purples revealing what looked like an ancient worshipping space for an old god.
Except where a statue of that old god should’ve been, the stone had been cleaved and shattered in half with a new ominous figure carved from lava rock in it’s place. By the enormous length of the horns and swarthy cut of figure it appeared to be one of the infamous demon lords of old lore. Something black and bubbling was spewing out from it’s mouth like a waterfall, pouring down onto an alter stained with red and surrounded by candles and artifacts. Pooling there and forming a river of obsidian that fed straight into the cave waters where the slimes were having the time of their lives.
On immediate sight of the statue Araminta jerked back and practically stumbled into Theon, not seeming to get her wits about herself yet to go any further!
Slimes could be useful for magical items. Nothing healing of the sort but rather the sort of offensive items that would be grand for wars of elemental values. He’d knew plenty of mage that liked to have some sort of slime concoction handy. Although he had never found the use for them himself, they did surprisingly made good fertilizer when they were neutralized. They retained water very well and it made the use of watering crops less necessary. For it would water itself with enough saturation.
Of course the present of these sticky things weren’t of a good benefit. Apparently it seemed that Araminta didn’t have some grand scheme to announce. Rather indicating they were to drift further in for these weren’t entirely the reason for the state of the water. Certainly unhelpful to its cleanse but not the source either.
Leaving him to follow diligently along with attention being watchful for anything that might have crawled onto the roof. If they encountered a slime with a skeletal head within its body, that would be a larger problem.
However as they ended up further inside the cavern, the presence of a demonic alter was well… not at all what he had expected. Having only ever heard of these things in fables, seeing one in real life did have him wondering if it was in fact it at all. Save the way the figure of horned variety was rested there with a vomiting of something wretched, he didn’t need to second guess himself.
Finding his grasp rising up to cradle to shoulders that had come colliding back into him. Lightly squeezing before sliding around her. “Stay.” A word indicated that she ought to stay exactly where she was. Leaving him to step closer to do a visual inspection rather than physical. Not about to start putting his hands on any sort of evil idol anyways.
Araminta clung to her staff, thinking in her head a quiet don’t, but the word never reached her mouth. Frustrated with herself, as this was stupid that she couldn’t seemed to get her feet moving forward when this wasn’t naught but a monument of stone. Trapped there frozen, watching as Theon approached the alter for a closer inspection.
While the statue itself shown the weathering of a few decades, the items surrounding it were much newer. Half burned tallow candles, ceremonial knives, humanoid bones as well as animals, and jars filled with suspicious liquids. There were even a few tucked aside on a small shelf with no writing that’s even been seen in the twelve kingdoms. A fine collection that could aid not only demonic worship but necromantic arts. Whatever was happening here with this statue, the rituals were being maintained on a regular basis, hinting the village was no so abandoned after all and that someone was still here making use of it for their spellwork.
It took several long moments but the princess did finally dig up enough courage to shuffle closer, not willing to get too close to the alter itself, but rather following the inky black flow of the substance towards the edge of the cave waters. Gently giving the stuff a prod with her staff and frowning. It was very much like the poison oozing from her leg, but here it was getting diluted into the water.
When she then poked one of the slimes, the creature latched onto her staff seeming to try and gobble the nasty stuff right off.
“They’re eating it,” she exclaimed with soft horror.
He got the idea that whomever was maintaining such a potent idol alongside its spell work was not the sort of person they wanted to get too particularly close with. Demon worshippers were a whole other league in themselves, especially if they were the sort of practitioners of black magic. Necromancy, things that were best left alone. Not merely taboo items themselves but so much worse. Still, as his stare ventured over to the shelf, he made a move to approach.
Tossing a look back to Araminta as it seemed her paralysis had waned somewhat. Not seemingly poking at things with her staff –liable to lose this one too if she was going to use it so willy nilly- curiosity bid him to reach out to the shelf. Wisdom told him to avoid it. The latter winning to settle with looking but not touching.
His own abilities were practiced and taught by a bit of self teaching but he had a teacher later. Enough to learn the limitations of his uses but this… this was the sort of stuff his teacher would have gawped at. In pure horror before shrieking about its need to be removed. Destroyed properly. Expressively indicating the properly part.
Which he was at a temporary loss of how.
Righting around to look at her exclaim, “They are lured here. Whatever this is, it is a buffet.” Theon murmured, “You may lose your staff if you poke at everything.” He pointed out to her then, righting his stare back at the idol. It might stop things from working if they were to destroy it, but he didn’t suspect it would be done easily. And usually such things came with a curse of some sort for breaking them.
Almost as if to prove Theon right, Araminta found it very difficult to get the edge of her staff back from that hungry slime, devolving into a sort of violent tug-o-war that ended with the staff coming free with a PLOP! and the princess landing on the ground with a clumsy flail of limbs. She gave the lake of slimes the most foul of looks before checking over her staff. Relieved to find the ebony oak wood came out unharmed so far.
“Sure to be the cause of the blight itself to be poisoning the water like this,” she muttered, climbing to her feet and dusting herself off. There was every chance that in the same way it was destroying the plant life, anyone who dared to drink the waters might eventually find themselves in a foul way. Leaving Araminta with this terrible twist in her gut of wondering if that was to be her fate should her infection continue to spread. Would she be like that poor traveller out there, wandering around sightless and undead?
Finding a fresh sense of bravery now, Araminta took to spying around herself. Leaving Theon with the alter and it’s assorted items to circle around the very statue that was pouring out it’s obsidian toxin. Having to climb up over the rocks of the old fallen god to reach the back and take a look at the heavy base the awful demon relic was now standing on. Nothing was feeding the black stuff up from the ground, so the stuff pouring out of it must’ve been tired to some sort of cursed spell.
Araminta’s first idea was to push the whole thing over and hope it shattered to bits. Of which she immediately tried! Bracing hands and then shoulders against the lava stone and digging her heels into the ground and bracing them against the fallen rock, trying to use all her strength to shove it over.
Of course, it remained perfectly stationary.
She popped her head around the statue with a frown. “What’s making it work? They’re coming back here, so it can’t be a self sustaining curse. We just need to be sure the spell can’t be redone, so we find what’s fueling it?”
Shortly he gave her a cautionary look over after touching that of the accursed idol. Before shrugging somewhat to the mention of what was making it work. Only able to agree that someone was ensuring the functionality of such a thing. “Spells are intricate devices. Much like yarn. It is woven and to unweave it takes a particular eye. Care. Consideration. If it is important, then whomever created this likely has fail-safes in the creation of their curse. To simply disable it would likely resort in a backfired spell. A curse of its own to the one who tries.”
Theon stepped around to reach and lightly insist she not keep herself touching the relic. “The best action to stop a spell from working is typically nullifying the one who created it. Typically from my history, spells of such a caliber are feed with a lifesource. Blood is a binding agent that is used and can be very dangerous in spells.” His attention drifted somewhat further to the shelves again. “I would not be surprised if alchemy and magic were used in tandem to create this. Demonic idols are… things of history. Not so much practice in my understanding.” Theon sighed somewhat through his nose, “In any case, I know no good way of neutralizing this. It would be too easy to break it, anyone who stumbles in here could have tried that. This may be far more sophisticated than a mere breaking of a spell.”
Araminta listened well, soaking up this information with a great deal of interest and curiosity. While there had been magic users in her kingdom, it was quite different than the sorts she’d come across in the twelve kingdoms. Earthy witchcraft born of natural gifts and old bloodlines, or wizened old wizards that learned their craft through generational teachings. Here there were mages and paladins and sorcerers and all sorts of different layers of magical styles that she couldn’t even begin to understand.
At his beckoning for her to come away from he statue itself (he actually looked concerned about her touching it, or as concerned as Theon could look anyway!), Araminta did jump down and resume her exploration of the alter and it’s littering of items instead.
There was a wild, defiant sort of desire to simply set fire to all of it. A whispering inner voice demanding that she forget about caution, to simply destroy at will. Crumble this grotesque idol and everything around it until the very cave itself came crashing down. Even when she glanced upwards at the chiseled stone of the demon lord’s jawline and his large curling horns, Araminta really, really wanted to give in to that instinct.
But if they destroyed the cave, there would be no guarantee that the curse itself would be broken. Now more than ever Araminta could not leave here until this monument and it’s cursed was removed. And that whomever was using the village as their ritual sacrifice in this demon lord’s name was GONE.
“The person, then. We have to set a trap for the person and then… And then remove them.” murmured Araminta. That was where things got a bit dicey. For how does one remove and threat and make sure it never comes back without some form of violence? It’s not as if Araminta had a dungeon to throw villains into!
“They’re sure to come looking for thieves,” Araminta suggested first, already leaning towards one of the small shelves to see just how many of these eclectic dangerous looking things she could easily shove into her sacks.
Thankfully she came down from the relic after he gave his explanation. He knew enough to be wary of course but not enough to give a definitely answer of how to combat and save any of this. There was too many unknowns to expertly suggest that whatever plan came to mind but be the best one at all. Almost wishing they had come across a paladin much sooner. Guessing that this sort of stuff was their bread and butter. Knowing the ins and outs of anything demonic, undead or taboo sort of nature.
All he could suggest was the obvious course to him. One that was familiar and it was often coloured with red. The sort of efforts that were required of him prior which seemed to be just realized enough for the princess to murmur about it. “That is to assume this isn’t an elaborate trap.” Theon suddenly pointed out. Whom is to say that this place hasn’t already had people conscript to fix the problem but only because permanent residents.” The reference to the undead outside. The mention of thieves was enough for him to follow her mention towards that of the various items.
“Perhaps it is something as simple as attempting your trial.” The man turned to face her instead, “Something complex does not mean the best answer. If you are to work on completing your trial, one that is attending to this ritual may appear. They might already be aware of our presence. It may be in the better chance of surprise if it was made clear that you came to do what was originally asked. Perhaps that is the catch to why people do not survive this task.” They were caught and used as meal prep for that of the slimes or the ritual at all.
Araminta’s mouth twisted to the side as she glanced back at Theon, letting this new suggestion simmer. Something about this trial had to be deadly, else it wouldn’t be a trial at all. Considering they did make it through the village without being eaten by undead, and that the slimes were more interested in their pool of writhing than she and Theon… perhaps it was the cultists of this ritual site that were the real danger. It took lots of time to catch fish, leaving a person vulnerable to getting snatched if they weren’t watchful.
A suspicious part of her wondered too, how much was the Imperial Queen allowing to slide in her kingdoms. She had to know what made this place dangerous enough to become one of her trials. The woman was allowing this level of demon worship of necromancy to continue. As it sure wasn’t resolving the curse itself that was the trial!
“I think you’re right,” she agreed with a nod. “We’ll go do our fishing out in the village and see if anyone turns up.”
She still gave a scathing look to the alter and all of it’s ritualistic bits and bobbles though. Almost unwilling to leave it as it was, without some of destructive retribution. For now, though. the princess trusted Theon’s intuition and would leave these potentially dangerous items alone.
Head was given a gentle bob to agree to her idea that it was best for them to return to the village. As it might seem too easy to attempt chaos within this location. As if it were a baited trap waiting for the right creature to set it off. Putting them at an disadvantage that would truly assure their success was only met by that of death.
Although he would be blind not to notice how she gave the immediate area a look that seemed almost petulant. Inviting a pass over himself in case he had missed something particularly vital before motioning for them to return the way they had come. “Please watch your step upon exiting.” He seemed to advise out of potential concern for her leg.
The statement seemed to draw her out of her brooding at the scene, causing her to turn and flicker a glance at him with a wide smile.
“I’ll be careful,” she affirmed. Even making sure her staff was moved to the lake side so if she did lose her balance she could tilt herself away from tumbling into the slimes. Him worrying about it was completely unnecessary, but she wasn’t about to kick up a fuss over his concern. Finding a nice sort of warmth in knowing someone was looking out for her.
Walking back was as simple as going in, though, maybe the slimes weren’t as disinterested in them as Araminta had thought. Long sticky tendrils kept reaching out as she passed them by, or when she’d have to step too close to the waters. None seeming to be the slightest bit interested in grabbing at Theon’s leg or foot, which made Araminta a slight bit uneasy, but none were being aggressive towards them so there wasn’t any cause for her to panic. She just made sure to hop to the side when something swiped too close.
Once they were back out into the light of the day, where the skies were still grey and misty, Araminta took a breath. That urge to go back and set everything on fire was still fairly strong, along with a twisting, frustrated feeling about being so… talentless. Had she magic in her blood, or were a trained sorceress or even a warrior, maybe she could’ve tackled the curse itself and obliterated that awful demon idol. Instead she was just Araminta, Princess of Nowhere, and about as useful as a sack of dung. Maybe even less useful than that, because at least the dung was good fertilizer!
This big deep water pond at the opening of the cave seemed like the best place to do some fishing, at least, so Araminta found them a nice cozy looking spot under one of the barren trees where there were a couple of fallen stumps good for sitting and nice part of the bank that’d make for easier fishing. She set down one of her bags and knelt down to see where she stuffed her hooks and line.
“We’re supposed to get a rat tailed cod… which has this big terrible head and a long skinny tail? And so many teeth. Like a tadpole with giant jaws,” she was not too keen on seeing such a fish, but at least she knew it was small enough to fit inside the salt box she’d brought to store it. So it wasn’t likely to bite off one of her hands. Maybe just a finger.
A mere agreement that she would see to avoiding taking an unnecessary tumble into the grip of some slime infest waters, was enough to sooth the oddity of unease in his chest. Turning it into gentle appreciation that seemed to be fit to quiet any unspoken worry. Though it certainly had its way of nudging back to the present when they walked and those goopy beasts had a fun day trying to reach out to make their presence known to Araminta. As if inviting her into their slippery fun.
Even having a few thoughts that aligned with seeing how well they responded to a bolt of flame being tossed at them. Doubtful it would do anything but the idea was still there. Sitting on the top of his thoughts.
Barely lessening by the time they made it out to the dreary outdoors.
Following like the little lamb to the edge of the fetid pool with a slow look within its source. Making a cautionary examination. Slowly coming to kneel down alongside in case she asked for any assistance but to also listen acutely to what was said. About this fish that was too be pulled out of the surface of this tobacco looking pool of… rot. “Are you to keep it alive?” he asked after a moment of thought. “Do you need me to help or stay back?” Seeing as he had been told before not to assist her in such things, he thought to ask this time.
“It only needs to be whole so I have a salt box to dry it out in,” she explained, then sat back on her haunches to consider his offer of help. “…I don’t really know how to fish?”
The confession was dubious and even a little concerned, as Araminta already had a terrible time with hunting and she wasn’t certain how she was going to fare when it came to fish. They weren’t fuzzy and cute with little families the same way forest animals were, yet they were still living things. Araminta had a terrible habit of assigning this thought that all critters – even the bugs she found horrible – had their families and homes to return to when they weren’t busy doing what critters do. She knew that’s not how they actually lived and how everyone fit into the grand circle of life… It just made her heart hurt a little.
Still, it was something necessary for the trial, so Araminta would have to get over it. To toughen up. If she can’t even catch and kill a fish, then how was she ever going to be able to handle harder things. Like the curse on this village. Or the demons plaguing her kingdom.
She realized, maybe she should’ve tried a little harder at hunting too, with a grim frown.
“I do appreciate the help,” she finally said. Deciding in this case, at least, that two of them fishing would have better results.
So a dried out rotten… foul fish. He was starting to truly speculate that whatever this random items were from each trial, they were meant to be used in some sort of potion creating. Still unsure if it was for the benefit of the queen or not. Truly with a loose acknowledgement to search his own thoughts for something that would indicate that he knew anything at all. Save nothing was coming forth.
While he had been born to the Imperial Queen, they had no a-typical affiliation. There was no son and mother relationship. As far as he could remember, he had an assigned maid but they had not care too particularly for him anyways. Merely assured he existed long enough to go to training and his studies before eventually they too disappeared.
And he began to live mostly on the direction of his mother. Surviving privately in the small shack that had been given too many comforts by Araminta’s hand. Even the duchess that had taught him by order, didn’t express any sort of attachment.
Well that was it wasn’t it, attachment. He had none to him and him to none in reply. So it wouldn’t have made any sense for him to know any sort of reason to why his mother had these trials at all. With their oddity of collections.
Balancing on the ball’s of his feet, it seemed that her admitting that she was not certain how to fish came with a sense of weight. Unsure to why, he glanced at her makeshift rod. To the string and hook before making the movement to indicate she would need to bait the hook with the wriggly worm that was dug out of the ground much earlier in their walking.
“It does not need to live?” he repeated to make sure he was certain that was what had been told to him. For if he was allowed to assist, then he might as well see if he could spear the ghastly creatures from the water rather than sitting there waiting. Although he would need to fashion a spear to do that, which meant finding a stick that might be half decent to hold up. An obvious lacking of that. But he would need a stick regardless if they were to fish together.
Causing him to stand once more to shirk that of the cloak from his shoulders. Draping its weight over her own to insist she kept warm on this dreadfully dreary day. Indicating silently he would remain within her sights but he would see if he could hunt down something useful and sturdy enough to make into an item to fish. “Sit still. Patient. If you feel tugging on the line, stand up and walk backwards. To pull it out of the water.”
“A dead dried fish, it has to have all it’s guts and innards still inside,” she clarified, not sure why he needed the affirmation, but gave it all the same. Shifting to open up the container they’d stashed the worms in and… wrinkling up her nose.
Araminta didn’t like this at all.
She did pause her grimacing when he draped his cloak over her, almost opening her mouth to insist he shouldn’t as the man needed his own cloak! Yet in the moment decided against it, knowing later there would come a time she’d actually need to set her foot down about something important for his own well being, so it wasn’t good to waste her fussing on these little things.
Instead she set her focus to this fishing business.
She’d wrapped the worm around her hook and tossed it off into the lake… only to watch that worm go flying off and lost to the waters! It took Araminta a few tries and several lost worms to finally realize she needed to actually hook the wrigglie thing to make it stay where it belonged. Drawing a few squeaky sounds of discomfort as she wrestled with it – finally doing the evil deed even if it did make her tear up and sniffle.
Then she sat, practically sulking about the entire thing, holding her staff as the rod and watching the line tied to the other edge. At least this part wasn’t so terrible, the sitting and waiting patiently. As drizzly as the day was, and the wretchedness of the scenery, it didn’t take much for her to be content.
As one would believe, finding a good sturdy stick in this neck of the woods was the equivalent of trying to find a needle in a haystack. There was plenty of ones that were so brittle that even seemingly glancing in their direction was enough to cause them to crumble to dust. Others that seemed almost decent proved the opposite by being picked up. Snapping in their desperate attempts to avoid much use. Pitiful things, though he was being rather selective of how far he went anyways.
Keeping an eye and ear out for anything that might want to shamble over for a nibble of fresh flesh. Best avoided.
There even came a bit of a thought that he might as well just use his sword before ultimately he gave up the figurative ghost of anything suitable that would last longer than one use. Deciding that he was just going to have to go to the old fashion methods of game fishing by bow and arrow. Though he would need to tie a string to end of the shaft so it could be easily retrieved. Rather than going splashing into the water’s that he thought best to avoid as much as possible.
After a good ten minutes of absolute no success, he returned. Eyeing her a little curiously as to make sure his cloak had kept its placement upon shoulder while following the hold of hands to that of her rod. To string and its end in the water. Seeming satisfied by the view, he shrugged away the sword with its belt and scabbard. Setting it down to next remove the quiver and bow alike. Selecting an arrow so he could examine its end before feeling at the various bits of collected pieces he carried on his person. Seemingly selecting a bit of dried sinew that would work well for pulling back the arrow without compromising its weight too excessively. Anything too much larger would only make the arrow fly awkwardly. Likely not to hit a single thing at all!
Plus the sinew was tacky after one warmed it up enough that it could be tied and pressed to that of the shaft. Making a decent length to where he seemed pleased enough with his creation.
Sidling up to the edge of the water once more to peer down into its murky depths. It certainly wouldn’t be much easier to fish this way as the surface didn’t offer much clarity into it. Leaving him to cast her one more look before nocking arrow but leave the bowstring slack as there was no reason to have it taunt when he needed to see what he was looking for.
“The Imperial Queen has odd tastes.” Theon stated loud enough to be heard.
Araminta had watched him just as curiously when he returned, taking note of what he did to make use of his arrows as a means of fishing. Impressed with the idea and even glancing towards the lake waters herself to see if she could spot anything moving or swimming about neat the surface that he could aim out. Near the bank there were more shallow areas where the murky tint was too bad, but that also was where the slime collected most and did not appear to be an fun swimming experience for whatever was in there.
She was perfectly content to sit there in silence until he made his comment, drawing her to blink in confusion at first until he followed what he was getting at. Then she burst into sudden laughter, nearly shaking with the effort!
“Do you suppose she eats it then?” she said in between her giggling, all morose thoughts now gone in the wake of this amusing new line of thought. “Salted fish isn’t too terrible… though I’d think a foul one might give the worst of bad breath.”
Imagining the Imperial Queen with breath as gnarly as a dragon’s gave her a great deal of joy and many more giggles at the thought. She’d almost missed the gentle tugging at her line.
“Theon! Theon!” she squeaked in a sudden panic, nearly dropping her staff in her scramble to stand up. “A fish!!”
The sound of her merriment after his commentary had heard a drawn pause. Assessing the melodious giggling at first before promptly accepting that what had been said at all drew amusement. Though he did not seek to break his concentration upon the water. Acting as though it might be a failure if he peered away a second. As if the water was going to become suddenly worse if he just glimpsed towards her. Till she seemed to regain her breath to query –likely rhetorically- whether or not he thought his mother ate such a foul item.
Funnily enough, he was not sure he could deny it!
Squinting at the murky depth whilst his companion continued to titter, it was promptly ended with the calling in tandem of his name. Bidding swift abandonment of the bow and arrow as to come over to make an approach to her rising stance. To outreach to take that of her staff firstly before readying to aid in assistance of helping her pull the thing up. “Keep backing up.” He stated prepared to hold onto her if required.
Araminta couldn’t believe something had actually chomped onto her worm and hook! Now drawing her into a silly sort of panic mixed with excitement, absolutely terrified of what was yanking so hard on her line while also being so thrilled she managed to get anything at all. Her hands shaking enough that it was almost difficult to hold on to her staff, lucky that Theon had come to steady it at all, else she’d have lost yet another one!
At his instruction, Araminta moved backwards, quickly shooting glances behind her to make sure she wasn’t going to stumble over anything. Once her catch came into the shallows and then onto the bank, flipping and flopping all over the place, there was a bit more startled squealing while she tried to catch hold of the line to hold the fish up and steady off the ground without getting slapped by the floppy thing.
Truly it was a foul fish in it’s own right, flat as a pancake with the sort of a sideways face a jester might paint on, with dull yellow scales and covered in the offending slime. It wasn’t the fish they needed, but by the look on Araminta’s face she was too delighted to care.
“Look at this flat bastard! What do we do with him?”
There was something to be said about his own awe once the fish had been reeled in. Plucked from the gnarly waters to showcase itself as something that… well? Well he didn’t know a fish could look like! Completely flat with its face on one side entirely. Rather than eyes on either side as he had seen numerous times.
It was quite the ugly looking thing with its dripping water and ooze alike, it clearly was not the foul fish that was meant to be caught. Although with its absurdity, he had to wonder if all the fish in this lake were going to be dynamically oddballs. Still one would do well to notice the fallen princess’s excitement of having caught the sad excuse of a water dweller at all. “Put it back?” Theon replied though he was a little startled at her use of flat bastard. “I… have not seen a fish like this before. I didn’t…” he trailed off to express that his knowledge hadn’t included such a strange thing.
Araminta was still so proud of herself that she’d managed to catch the thing at all, and presently wasn’t busting into tears. At least if only because this fortunate creature was going to be tossed back as it sure wasn’t safe for them to dare to eat.
For now she was pulling it close, trying to figure out how to get the hook out of it’s mouth with it chomping down on one of her fingers.
“Maybe we’ve discovered a new fish?” she responded, doubting such, but still finding it a fun thought regardless. Ignoring the dangers of the trials, there were lots of benefits to traveling across the twelve kingdoms and getting to see things she’d never seen before. Theon with his singular focus and being a tool for the queen, seemed to not take much time to just… look around. Notice the world and everything it had to offer.
“There’s so many unusual and spectacular things! This one I’d not call spectacular, but interesting none the less. We’re going to meet all kinds of strange creatures!”
Relenting his own grasp away from her as he was busy trying to determine just why this fish was so unbelievably flat and for what purpose it served, there came a level of acceptance that she seemed to be so pleased with her catch. As quirky as it was. Stepping back around towards that of the bow and arrow that had been abandoned in its effort to help the woman, he gave the very same person a glance across shoulder. Considering the idea that it was potentially a new fish. Which a equally considering look to the water. They couldn’t say it was the fact of the matter or not. Though he might suggest that if it was already a known fish, this one was likely altered due to its poor living environment.
Which it didn’t seem to mind.
However in that same Araminta spritely spirit, it seemed her new conviction was to declare they were going to meet all kinds of strange creatures. Warranting a bit of inner reflection. Still unsure how it was that she included him on these sort of thoughts but found it brought him a private sense of joy. A little nugget that slightly warmed in gentle light at the idea of even being considered. Even if it was just a passing phrase, it likely meant more to him than she would ever know.
“Then…. It would be vital for you to survive the trials.” Raising bow again with a step up to the side of the lake bank, he seen a few shadowy bodies go fluttering around in the murky waters once more. “What… creatures would be more strange than the fae you’ve met thus far?” he asked in an unusual effort of conversation.
This blasted fish was so floppy and slimy it was tricky to get the hook out – so much so that Araminta dropped it once it was free, letting out a string of mumbled sorry, sorry, sorries as she chased the thing across the bank attempted to catch it with her bare hands. Finally she’d managed to herd it close enough to the water that with a splashing PLOP sent it flying back into the small lake.
Despite the muck on her hands, Araminta was excited to try again, now not so squeamish about plucking out a fresh worm to add to her hook. This new skill, as amateur and tentative as it was, had now piqued her interest.
“Centaurs,” she answered immediately without having to think about it. “Imagine having half your body some eight feet behind you, and they can’t throw themselves on the ground to scratch their back the way horses do. Or– maybe they can? I don’t know, it seems quite wild that a human torso doesn’t just snap off.”
Araminta paused a minute, wondering if maybe such comments were a bit offensive. She’d only ever seen centaurs in drawn pictures as they sure weren’t up in the mountains where she lived, and those pictures didn’t exactly appear true to life. Most creatures had shapes that at least made sense… although it she really thought about it, centaurs might’ve fallen into the same vein as the fae. Creatures of magic didn’t need to make sense.
“What is it like when you’re a horse?” she curiously asked, since the topic of horse like creatures had come up. “Does it feel very odd to take such a different shape?”
Baring witness to a princess of a foreign land hopping about after a fish that had come free of its hook on dry land, was quite something else. Leaving him temporarily observant in a new way that was attempting to make sense of this unusual view point. Though at least she was successful in getting the creature back into its nasty watery home, before it seemed that she was hardly deterred to try again. If anything, it looked as though Araminta was thrilled at the prospect of trying again. Seemingly fishing was more her stride when it came to the efforts of hunting.
Though as she went about re-stringing her hook with fresh bait, the mention of a strange animal was that of a centaur. The creatures that were mostly horse save where a head was, there was a human body. Torso and limbs to head. Being the conduit of thought, action and living. Which he had never really thought about the beings before. Then again, he didn’t really think about fae or supernatural creatures anyways. But she had a point. It couldn’t have been nearly as easy to lay down and roll about to scratch one’s back, though would they need too. When they could turn and scratch mostly by their human hands.
It seemed like a peculiar thought puzzle, if he was honest about it. Raising that of bow to pull back the arrow in anticipation of a catch but the creature darted away into a more obscure part of the lake. Avoiding being skewed so far.
Relaxing form once more to offer his focus to her question. Questions actually. “No.” Blunt as per usual, “It is normal as breathing, I suppose. It does not feel strange, or peculiar. It is simply a part of me.” Theon shrugged nonchalantly, “Nokken’s can do more than that and they are usually white horses with a mane of mist. I am only half, so I lack much of their abilities.” He seemed to offer her a bit of insight without any real nudging. Trailing the irises of argent back to the watery gnarl. “Though,” Thought puckered, “As the equine, I am a little freer… I suppose. There is a… lack of weight on my chest. I think is the best way to describe it.” He glanced once more at her, “It’s form is as natural to me as breathing. Though I suppose when to ask about it and its peculiarities, it does stand out as unnatural and abnormal.” Arms raised once more as if prepping for a new shot only to repeat as he had before. “Such is things.”
“I guess it wouldn’t feel strange if it’s something you’ve always known,” she remarked, realizing the silliness of her question. Of course it would be normal for him to shift into the creature, it was part of him. It was likely far more strange for him to wonder how others didn’t have such magic coursing through them.
Now that she had her worm secure, Araminta launched it out into the water and had herself a nice seat again at the side of the bank. Ever so often tugging her staff one way or the other as if dancing the worm in the water like a tasty, tantalizing little tease. Amusing herself again with the inner alliterations of her thoughts.
“That must be why the fae enjoy lounging in the forest as creatures rather than more human forms. Like a cozy blanket of your own magic wrapped around yourself, so you might run wild.” Araminta spoke the thoughts out loud as she mused it over, finding it made the most sense to her. If she were magical herself with the ability to change her form. she’d for certain take every opportunity to explore the freedom of being an animal set loose in the world. It certainly felt like it carried less of a burden. The sorts that kingdoms and villages and people in general tended to put on. For animals life was so much simpler.
“You do make a handsome horse,” she commented. “But I like you this way too.”
Lightly he acknowledged she was correct. It hadn’t been unusual to him for the longest time till he came to realize that others did not manifest the ability of a beast of burden. Leaving him to be a living question mark for the longest time till the understanding that his half fae-ish was just an added reason to be the one standing outside the crowd. Looking in at those that were deemed normal. Of course it had sat on his head like a lead weight with no one to actually voice these mental machinations too. Eventually swallowed and taken to be another piece of his being. Sewn in and fastened down as to simply accept and leave it no more than the reality that as a imperial prince, he was a very irregular thing.
As an adult, he knew not to voice these things. Instead lining up a shot that finally let the arrow fly only to thwok itself into the dirt. Missing the fish that had happily shuffled away to stir up the mud below. Leaving him to shoulder the bow whilst Araminta seemed to have a verbal thought that was to be spoken. Hand over hand did he start reeling in his own arrow and line. Humming a little to express that perhaps she was right about why the fae in the enchanted forest preferred their non-humanoid forms. It carried less stress though they also could just freely live their lives as they wanted. Mischief included.
“I doubt others would agree, but thank you.” Theon gave the arrow a bit of a shake once it was free, commenting dryly to her suggestion that he was a handsome beast and liking him as he was. No other would agree, he was certain of that much! But sometimes it was the empty sort of words that made a lasting impression.
“Did your kingdom not have curious beings as well? Mages… paladins? Shapeshifters?”
Araminta had leaned forward to watch where he shot, finding herself a bit disappointed he didn’t get his fish, but figuring that it took a great deal of difficulty and skill to be able to hit one in the water at all. It wasn’t as if they had anywhere to rush to be, either!
His question did hit her in a soft place, not his fault at all, and truthfully even though she felt that pang of sadness whenever it came up, it was starting to get easier to talk about. Araminta also love these moments he actually deemed to speak and carry a full conversation, so she wasn’t about to let it pass simply because it made her sad to think about.
“It was… quite different to here,” she murmured, trying to think of the best way to explain. “Magic crafts weren’t as common and there was very little to even need magic for. The valley was self sustaining and travelling through the mountains themselves could be a perilous thing, so visitors from other lands and imports were rare. Sometimes in the worst of winters we might see yeti or a frosted giant come down seeking food. Fae too, of course, but they had little interest in our tiny valley kingdom.”
Thank goodness for a well stocked library of books and a family that cared about her education, Araminta thought. Otherwise when she fled her country, she might’ve been completely culture shocked and well out of her depths here in the twelve kingdoms. …which wasn’t to say she didn’t occasionally struggle, but it certainly helped having that extra knowledge!
“I wouldn’t consider myself naive, but I’ve been a bit out of my depth here,” she did admit. “I’m just Araminta with no magic, no practical skills, and no title to fall back on. Sometimes I miss being home where I mattered.”
Spooling the sinew so it wouldn’t hang down to be a pestering irritant at his side, the way his mouth moved to ask her a question about that of her former kingdom was becoming a little more common. While he had travelled, he didn’t really know the other lands that well. He had been sent to places for tasks. Not to sight see. Not to learn. Just to do. So to hear about her home, well, he was in fact very curious. Slotting away such information like a squirrel did with its acorns. Just he wouldn’t lose them after a while.
With a refresh of his stance to again watch the water in search of the ugly little described fish that was to be of the trial’s succession; he found himself humming at the idea that her previous existence did not rely on magic crafts nearly as much. That the valley kingdom seemed to be well enough off that magic might as well have been something of a complication rather than relief. That trade and imports were also rare. Which drew his own addition of questions to ask at various times about this. Wondering just how self sufficient they had been.
A part of him felt truly remorse that the place was no longer a notable reference on any map. It sounded intriguing enough that he might had wanted to pick up a book about it in the rare times he had frequented a library.
However, his bow lowered after a moment. Turning to address her with all the sort of impassive control that he had to be a world record holder of. “Do you not matter then here?” He asked quizzically with a sense of deeper earnestly. “You are learning skills every day. Magic is not reliable. Over use and it harms. Many rely on it for ill omens.” Theon made an uncharacteristically animated frown then, “I do not think you need a title. You’ve done many things without it and certainly better than most who would have one. You have many skills that I do not think you credit to yourself. I find you fascinating in numerous ways and I would be… remiss if you felt that your importance is of no substance. Though I do recognize that what I say has little consequence on what one’s own mind and heart feel.”
Araminta wanted to say that it was difficult to matter when one didn’t have anyone to matter to, but it seemed that he had plenty more to say on that front. Even uncharacteristically enthusiastic by means of the sudden frown he turned at her. With the sort of impassioned words that didn’t match the expression at all. Leaving the princess sitting there, blinking a bewildered verdant stare and for once being rendered entirely speechless.
He thought her fascinating of all things and so it seemed she mattered to at least one.
Her expression softened, that bewilderment still there but finding herself examining the man with a renewed sense of appreciation and a twisty little feeling of something budding her chest. Here was a man that had the very essence of himself smothered and buried under an unfortunate life of twisted malice, and yet he still had such a spark in him to see good things in someone else.
Theon truly was the most extraordinary person she had ever met in her entire life.
“I stand corrected,” she murmured, unable to help blossoming into a smile. Catching herself gazing at him a little too long in a way that somehow felt embarrassing enough to bring a flush to her cheeks an force herself to look away. Back to her own hands and minding her fishing line for movement.
There came a sense of minor relief that him being unusually blathering at the mouth was enough to quell whatever miserable thoughts she possessed. Of course he also knew privately that his substance to that of another was impressively minute. Best compared of a flea to a frost giant. Truly so inconsequential that it was surprising on some level she found it moving. But he was hardly about to go complaining when it seemed to bring back a little bit of life to herself.
Thankfully missing whatever stare she was offering –though it was likely he wouldn’t have thought much of it anyways.
Merely allowing their lack of conversation to slide back into its familiar silence once more. Following the shadowy figures in the water and every so often shooting to graze and or miss whatever it was he was trying to get. Finding that the advantage of the polluted water certainly aided this grotesque fish. Reeling in the line once more with the arrow and checking its tip to see if it was dulling faster than typical.
Pardoning a span of time to raise attention to the sounds of rhythmic shambling of that of the undead warrior. Seeming almost on a track of movement while their distance certainly had been far enough that it didn’t seem disturbed by them and them by it.
“Unsuccessful.” Theon claimed with a light showing of bow and arrow. Expressing thus far he was by no means any more successful than the next non-existent person. Idly then glancing at fingers, “Would be easy if one was a thunder mage.” He seemed irritated by his lack of ability in such things but shrugged it away no sooner. Offering quiet attention to see what her summary was of their lack of fish and the lack of additional body that may have been here to maintenance the terrible idol within the cave.
“I believe you said patience was the key here,” she returned, casting him a teasing grin. Not seeming to mind herself that she hadn’t had any additional luck, beyond a few nibbles that managed to get away without being hooked, and even a few that stole her worm and forced her to replace it. Araminta found that she quite liked this activity as it was a nice combination of paying attention and getting a sudden rush when a potential catch was on the hook while still being a relaxing experience.
Or at least as relaxing as it could be in such a place, where everything around them looked a terrible sight. The shambling undead didn’t help, but the princess had managed to ignore it for the most part as it didn’t seem to much care about them either.
If they could catch the fish in a few mere hours, then it wouldn’t have been much of a trial, she figured.
“Maybe it is one that prefers the night hours and sleeps during the day. Regardless, it might be in our best interest to see if any of the village huts might be a suitable home for the night? One free of slime and other houseguests preferably.”
“Yes. I did.” He seemed to think over the former words of suggested patience. Something that he wondered if he was waning on. Requiring a good think to assess whether his newfound uncertainty in direction in life had suddenly shirked every bit of his allowance to have no bother to a length of time of any junction. Seemingly coming up empty handed. Though he assumed it might be difficult to catch the fish, he also didn’t think it would prove this lengthy either. It was a trial, though perhaps the amount of patience required had been a reason many gave up here.
The ambience certainly didn’t help.
With visage raising once more to consider their immediate surroundings as ears figuratively perked. Lowly humming with her suggestion that perhaps the fish she needed to catch was of the night time variety. “I will check then. If you wish to continue to fish.” He offered his services swiftly as an act to leave her to the means of sitting there contently. Even he could see she seemed to enjoy it.
The princess gave this some consideration, even glancing around and their current spot to debate if she felt alright being left alone. All the slimes were having their own little party inside the cave itself well out of her sight. The wandering zombie cared not about them. There certainly wasn’t any animal life daring to come inside the village boundaries. The only real unknown was whomever maintained the demon’s alter and that took didn’t necessarily mean danger, as for all Araminta knew they could be some crazy little old lady that just really loved demons.
“I’ll be okay here,” she affirmed with a nod. “I might even get lucky and catch our fish while you’re looking. Perhaps even a dangerous dinner if you wish to dance with death.” That little phrase came with a giggle and a grin with the play of words, seeming quite pleased with herself for that one.
“I will stay within view.” As if she needed that little bit of information confirmed that he wasn’t about to go too far that they’d each risk being unaware of the other. Nor was there that much in the means of stable withered abodes that might need him to venture too far anyways. Although he did a double take to her at the mention of a dangerous dinner. Watching how her lips turned upwards in their corners with the sound of her amusement trickling out in tandem. Something about that turned his insides right over and he felt no need to remind her that his hate relationship with food was already a rocky precipice. Very much unable to be tested even with too much jesting.
Earning a glance at the water just in case. Keeping any potential quips well buried within his being as he left that of sword and cloak with her once more. Bidding cautious pardon to meander his way back towards that of the various collections of abandoned abodes that were just as much a dreary addition to this infected sore on the Imperial Realm’s face. Practically that of a pockmark.
Taking a due consideration that any of the standing structures that were nearest to the water and to those that were meandering aimlessly, were to be of no use to them. Unclear if the night rose too high, would they be able to suddenly smell the scent of flesh that would draw them closer. Making Araminta no more than a bait in a box as he didn’t intend to house himself within the place anyways.
With those selected couple out of the running, he’d check back towards where she had been left. Venturing closer to that of a place that seemed to be housing itself well enough though upon closer inspection and he decided that one accidental lean into the side of the wall and the entire place would come tumbling down.
The effort of carefully checking the local area was done with a painstaking care. Having discovered what seemed to be a raccoon at one point, alive and well beneath some debris. Hissing and chittering with all the sort of conviction of a twice charmed demon before he gave it a few testing pushes of foot to its shelter to chase it out. Much to its hated before it scampered off to some other spot that it could watch but not be disturbed.
By the time he found something suitable, it had been a good half an hour! And he was still questioning suitable. It was a place far enough away from the shambling undead but not so near that whatever oozy slime coated a lot of the surfaces here, didn’t appear to have reached thus far. But it was closer to the outskirts of the place. Selected eventually with the choice that while it would require a walk back in the dark to the water’s edge, it would prove the swiftest exit from the area should it be needed. Leaving him to meander back to the princess with a suitable confirmation of approved lodgings.
Araminta was content to sit there on her own, knowing he was close by. Ever so often taking a look over her shoulder to see if she could spot him, but otherwise happy where she sat. She did manage to catch another fish, though again not the one she was looking for (and this time which much less fumbling). But it was a different catch she’d pulled up out of the lake stuck on her hook that drew her curiously attention.
A little straw doll tied up with twine and scorched as if it’d been tossed into the fire. A sad thing, really, to find such an item lost in the lake. Araminta could so easily imagine children once playing here and having a grand time before the whole village was blighted beyond safe living.
Then something wisped out from within the doll. Smokey black taking shape into a small lizard or a misty dragon with ember eyes, smiling a wide toothy grin. Before Araminta could blink or think to scream it rushed forward into her face, clambering claws of smoke through her mouth and nose, filling her lungs with burning embers to the point Araminta could not breath. Could not move! Struggling and fighting, internally screaming as her lungs burned, Araminta could still not move.
Yet something else seemed to have full control.
By the time Theon’s foot steps could be heard returning, that straw doll had been dropped to the ground alongside Araminta’s staff-turn-pole. Araminta shifted to her feet in a strange staccato of movement, wrapping her fingers around the hilt of Theon’s sword and taking it with her.
The second Theon stepped within reach Araminta swung his own sword at his head with all the strength in her tiny body.
Lips had parted to say something. Her name most likely though it turned promptly into that of a shallow gasp with the way the young woman had cleaved that of his own sword at him. An action that would have startled just about anyone to flinching in an protective effort to keep one’s one head from tumbling upon the ground. Finding that there was a remote sense of relief turned into blighted blooming pain with the catching of sharpened blade happily falling with momentum to hack itself readily through the means of leather armor into flesh. Catching to tear itself through shoulder into the meat of bicep alone, where the chainmail beneath to protect one’s chest guided the weapon to slide away.
Hastily stepping backwards in a awkward painful shamble. As if he were mocking the shambling men themselves with his own enactment.
Reaching to instinctively feel at the ripened red freely flowing as his attention sought promptly to put some distance between them. Trying to make a quick reason in his head just why all the sudden she had felt the need to attack. Idly searching for answers with no more understanding than she simply had grown tired of his presence. A likely scenario that would have hardly been surprising.
Never mind that short twinge that arose with the idea that had grown as comfortable as a stray alleycat to someone carefully feeding it to gain its trust.
Lips pursed with the heated slices and the thought that formed at this new means of betrayal. Finding no use in even stating a name in a sense of duplicity, but put effort in backstepping. Eyeing the woman holding his weapon of choice. A dangerous item in any hands, worse in that which did not have the finesse of using it. Although he realized then and there, Araminta had never entirely specified that she was without some knowledge of the sword.
Somewhere in the silence of one’s own thoughts came a bitter sort of huff. He should have known better than to assume that the fallen princess would come to trust one that came from the tainted womb of a corrupted Queen. That he had been lured in with false modesty when he knew well enough that there was a distinct line between him and any other.
He knew he ought to fight back but there was no desire to do so. Just a mocking cynicism that found his ability to be fooled, laughable. Knowing that there was little he could do in the efforts of regaining that of his own sword currently. She might be slight compared to him but wrestling anyone with a weapon of a stabbing variety was only asking to have it dug into the belly.
Rubbing fingers over the slickened red, he gave a sigh. Looking back, seemingly noticing the oddity to her movement. Raising thought but debated his actions. He had no want to harm her. Instead letting out another breathy exhale, “Foolish of me to think otherwise that another would afford kindness…” Mumbling as stance stopped from attempting to retreat. Seemingly giving up the ghost in that moment, letting his gaze droop as it seemed attention veered enough to take notice of the discarded staff and… it’s other oddity nearby.
There was no reply from Araminta. Just silence and a blank expression that didn’t even seem to be looking directly at him, but rather through him entirely. Even more strange for the girl who was nothing but expressive in both body and by words.
She stood there like a statue frozen in time, seemingly contemplating the space and distance maybe, before in that strange stilted shift managed to lift the sword up again. Her steps towards him were staggered – forced – as if someone had a rope around her waist and was trying to hold her back.
Still, she rose that sword way above her head stumbling forward with a wide swinging arc to come down over his head. No finesse, no skill, no style. Not even a thought of strategy put to it! Only that arc of steel coming down for his head!
Deep inside her own head Araminta could not pry her own mouth open. Wordlessly begging the burning stinging embers to stop, just stop, and getting nothing but choking mouthfuls of the smoke for her efforts.
Somewhere in his own mind that settled on the idea that this was easily something she must have just been waiting to do, he could recognize the means of her lack of emotion. All he had to do was look into the mirror, save her own seemed far more dire than his own. An impressive feat truly.
There was a woodenness to her that reminded him all too much of the shambling sorts that dappled this blighted village. Add on the fact that she seemed to raise that weapon aloft with the only intention of striking down, it was loud enough of a silent message that while there stung a sense of easy perfidy; he also knew what it was like to be the puppet. The curved slice ached terribly as he bowed head in the means of showing lack of resistance to her careless wield. Waiting till its slice was coming forward to lunge forward to slide across belly on the rancid soil to that of where staff had been left unattended.
To the foreign addition that had certainly not been here before and something that looked all too familiar.
Throw this in the fire, Theon. Then leave me.
The words were like a ringing bell in his head as good arm made a careless snatch of the ugly little straw doll. Feeling its slippery slick as he forcibly rotated to gather awkwardly up into a crouch. Eyeing the marionette version of Araminta then the doll.
He had thrown it into the fire after all. And yet, here it was. It didn’t take a genius to know that flame was clearly not going to do much to this.
Pain swelled causing a uncomfortable twist to burst in skull as he sought to promptly gather up to his feet. Knowing that he had no idea of how to render whatever dark magic it was that had come from this discarded doll of straw. And unsure if he did do anything, would it harm Araminta.
Did he just actually lay down and let her hack his head off? It would be the easiest method of an ending, now wouldn’t it. Yet… he recalled that he was not to die before her. So that rendered that acceptance of a freedom before eyes rose with a swimming motion of strong discomfort from the rend upon himself.
Daring a glance towards her once more. A tightening in chest at the idea that this had all happened at all! A sense of guilt emerging thus again before gripping at the doll. What did he do? Dark magic wasn’t anything simple. It was not so black and white and his mother’s talents were hardly even gray!
It was a terrible sort of hell to be trapped within one’s head with all the ability to see and hear and thinking, but having no means of escaping. Because Araminta had seen the initial betrayal in his face and ached for him. Could see his dawning realization and even silently cheered it, only to watch that crestfallen lost expression. If she could speak she would’ve giving him the encouragement he needed, shouted off a list of wild and increasingly silly ideas until he recognized the one good one out of her nonsense.
But she couldn’t. Even with tears managing to escape and streak down her face, Araminta still couldn’t.
“Do your job, Theon,” said the voice that wasn’t hers. A terrible, skin crawling hissing. “Do as you’re told.”
Dragging he sword along the ground, seeming to have a struggle in picking it back up again, Araminta’s puppetted body wasn’t yet relenting. Shuffling towards him ready to make another swing should he not heed the ordered words.
“Do as you’re told.“
He did not know the answer. Cursing his own lack of knowledge when it came to these matters! Growing a sense of pitiful bother at the very means that he just didn’t have the answers! Black magic, he was aware his mother knew how to use it. To wield it and yet, he hadn’t ever questioned it. Much like everything else. Right now, guilt ate every part of him. Dripping in tandem to the vibrant red that poured freely from where he had narrowly escaped.
Left to squeeze the damnable doll as the girl moved against her own accord. Rotating to face him once more and gave nothing pleasant in demand.
Do as he was told.
That was all he had ever done. It offered no reward, no accomplishment. Nothing that suggested that what was done, had been correct. Even false affection had never been offered. It was empty, empty, empty. Just expecting him to keep obeying like a broken toy because it was simply all that was allowed to be given.
There was a loathing for himself that would not cease but to think that his mother was so desperate to challenge his hand now, she must have been grasping at straws. Even if this was just a fleeting thing that really meant absolutely nothing to Araminta, he would not, could not, dared not raise back a hand or steel or magic to her. She’d struggled more than enough and was trying her damnest to keep going. It might all be empty words from her too but maybe in his own stupidity, he just wanted to falsely hope for one breath in time that there was a sliver of something that mattered.
It was a risk. He knew this. But… there was little else he could do. And he merely hoped that Araminta would be spared.
Dark magic was fought by light. It was so moronically poetic that with a concentrative grip to that damn straw doll, did he squeeze it with a forming of light being conformed around it. Leaping backwards, trying his damnest to at least pull the straw apart. If it could at least be broken, then… hopefully whatever it was binding Araminta would be the same.
Broken.
“I’m sorry, Araminta.“
He’d dodged out of the way of her swing and she’d missed again… but that seemed to be the point of it. Swinging and swinging until he’d be goaded into doing he job that was demanded of him. Until he did the job of killing the princess he was ordered to kill.
Yet the moment he squeezed that straw doll and poured the light magic into it, her body jerked to a stop and his sword slipped from her hand. A strange gurgling sound slipping out, an almost furious stomping forward with her hands outstretched. Meaning to strangle him? Stop him from casting the magic? The more pieces of straw that fell loose from it’s twine bindings, the more her steps faltered, until she was crumbling at the knees to the ground, choking on what was stuck in her throat.
That smokey dragon with the burning ember eyes came screaming out of her mouth with such a spine tingling screech. Still screeching in rage to have been drawn out at all, and writhing on the pebbled banks. Trying to scramble it’s way direct to Theon as if with it’s dying breath it could find some sort of vengeance. Only to dissipate on the wind.
Leaving Araminta herself coughing violently and trying desperately to catch her breath. Finding with a choking sob of relief that she could actually speak again! Immediately launching into a stutter of I’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry between her attempts for smoke free oxygen to fill her burning lungs.
Personally he had never felt the means of such a desperation before. It felt absolutely alien and in all honestly, absolutely pathetic. Yet, such things didn’t stop him. This was no more than a last ditch effort. With no knowledge on how to work with such potent dark magic, he had to grasp at the feebleness of strings. Hoping that he made the right choice in the end that wouldn’t hurt Araminta anymore than she already was. Not that he was enthused at the idea that she was suffering at all!
Repeating candidly within that space between bone that she had already served such a grievous penitence for torment already. Why offer her more!
However, came subtle surprise after he had made the choice to use his light magic in the efforts to squeeze and tug apart the crafted little straw doll. Noticing abruptly how her body stopped to a janky pause with sword freely tumbling from hands. Needing no further urging than that to keep pouring the efforts of light magic into the item. Assuring that each piece of straw had no chance of magically leaping back to slide back to where it was.
Making a loose grasp to weaken the twine bindings till there was a pause in his efforts as Ara took to her knees and sounded as though she were trying to remove something lodged within. He’d not expected an actual physical representation of something crawling out! Leaving him to balk at the plume of smoke shaped like a winged lizard, trying to make an effort of coming at him. Only to be taken by the wind into nothing.
Not that he felt comforted by that, rending the doll till is was no more than a bunch of shapeless mangled straw and twine. Giving in unceremonious toss to the wind to be scattered in whatever hellish four corners it wanted to be.
Putting use to limbs to make a surprisingly swift scurry over to Araminta, though found himself promptly hesitating when it came to reaching out. A leeriness came and he felt the same sort of disquieted realization that this all might have been some deeper desire even as she panted and spluttered the apologies out. Mentally he knew it she had not done this of her own choice, but that little bit of uncertainty was more than enough to assure he wasn’t so bold as to lend his entire trust either. Daring a glance at the seeping heated stinging throbs of where he had been graciously spared his head being lobbed only to suffer a laceration that was far less life threatening. Before he swallowed roughly and kept his grasp plenty to himself. “A…. are you alright?” He dared softly with a nervous unease attached to the ends. Wary in case she was still possessed and was about to lunge to dig her nails into his neck next.
Araminta curled her arms around herself and squeezed, fighting the urge to walk her whole body into the putrid lake to ease the burn that singed her lungs and throat. To stop herself from reaching out and throwing her arms around the man who had every reason to be wary and afraid of her now. Trying to grasp what happened in her fluffy of terrified thoughts now that her body was no longer being used like a doll on stick!
She’d heard those grizzled words that fell from her mouth with another’s voice.
Do your job. Do as you’re told.
The Imperial Queen had such a power she could reach out across the continent with her magic to take control of Araminta. It would have been nothing to make her turn the sword on herself or to drown her in the lake. Walk her into the den of a monster and let her be devoured.
Yet, she used it against Theon. To make him suffer, to force him to do the deed himself. And that filled Araminta with such a fury she was almost shaking. Something so pointlessly, and viciously cruel, to make her own flesh and blood bend a knee and murder in her name. The princess knew in that very moment two important things.
Firstly, that malicious woman didn’t have complete control of Theon, perhaps could not have complete control of him and now she was making desperate moves to try and prove her power. She was not omnipotent, not something impossible to beat.
And secondly… Araminta – in all of her fury – was never ever going to let this go. She’d finish the trials, save her kingdom, and then she was coming for Imperial Queen herself. If it took her an entire lifetime, Araminta was going to knock that evil, horrible woman off her throne of blood. Whatever it took.
“I’m so sorry, Theon,” she managed to croak out again, digging up every ounce of her courage to bury that urge to start sobbing. Wiping the back of her hand against her cheeks to quickly remove tears as she awkwardly shifted to try and stand. She was Princess Araminta and there was a vital mission to get to, she couldn’t wallow on the ground crying.
“I’m- I’m sorry, let me fix it. You found- You found a safe place for us, yes? Let me get our things, and I’ll mend it.”
Idly he searched her. Looking for anything that might be a clear cut sign that something was still further amiss. Minus the obvious bits of trauma that had been inflicted or how it sounded like she had been busy inhaling smoke for the past couple of days. Beyond the obvious bits, he couldn’t tell anything further.
Merely guessing that the mental state was properly on the rocky edge trying to determine what happened. Yet she apologized again and while he wasn’t about to feel too much relief, he also did know that this was not her fault. “It was not your doing.” He lightly stated, “There is no use to apologize for things that are not yours.” he didn’t have to be a physic to know this was a rattling experience nor was he about to make her feel any worse for it.
Just that he shook his head next at her. “Stay. Rest.” Two words as he sought to make the effort to collect the items that had been forgotten, “The place is at the edge of this town. No other seemed suitable.” Forcing back down those out of place emotions, this was no time or any time for him to house a sense of humanized hurt. This was not her fault and he did not need her to take any example from him that it was. Whatever he had felt, didn’t belong. The safest place he knew was to bury those damnable expressions back down, deep down.
He’d manage himself as he knew how to and would not dump any further discomforts upon her. What happened, happened. Pushing feet back to usefulness, he glanced towards that of the fallen sword but made no attempt to grab it first. Rather stepping over to take that of her staff made fishing pole and the various other bits of bag and his shuffled cloak to roll over good arm. Tucking her staff under the same to avoid it collecting blood! Less he scar her further.
Trailing over to bend to take that weapon once more with a glimpse about for where its scabbard and belt had gone. He’d come grab those after, “… Come this way, when you are ready.”
He was never going to feel safe near her ever again, and that somehow hurt Araminta far worse than the burning in her lungs and throat. Even if he knew it wasn’t her fault, he was still going to have those thoughts lingering in the back of his mind that she could be infected, twisted, turned against him. All of the effort she’d put in to giving him somewhere, someone he could finally comfortably relax around had been obliterated within minutes.
Araminta was so very, very angry with nowhere she could vent or resolve it.
No amount of her apologies were going to help, so Araminta clamped her mouth shut and trailed after him like a wounded puppy. Bitter, desperate feelings finding themselves right at home along with a host of others she had tucked away and tried not to think about. Darkly wondering if she should just lean into it and go wage war on the first convenient outlet she could find – setting fire to a demon’s alter came to immediate mind.
In the end, the princess decided against fire and brimstone, for Theon’s sake, who likely had nothing but the violence in his life. Adding to it because she was frustrated and angry wasn’t the right thing to do.
Still, she remain silent in following him to the place he’d chosen for the night. Struggling to know what to say when one had attacked their only friend, and wishing she could hug him just the once. Even if the urge was just a selfish need for comfort on her part.
It was an uncomfortable sense of misery that arose with the lack of the familiar sounds of her gleeful tone. Daring a glance back towards her as if expecting something worse to be standing there rather than simply a woman that had been truthfully, invaded. He could understand that she likely felt as though she had been infringed upon. Her own being taken over by some outside force and made to do whatever it willed. Against her own. A mental perversion that as much as he grew uneasy with her lack of spirited lifts, he knew it was necessary for her to make sense of.
Leading them once more –now as a duo- to the little once upon a time home. Daring to look back inside just in case something had made a miraculous choice to slide indoors to make the place inhospitable.
Thankfully nothing new was waiting there with steepled fingers and a twisted grin.
Side stepping, he gave her a silent look. Then stepping in to lay down the collected bits of items and pooling the means of cloak down to the floor to indicate she was to sit on it. Rather than the dirty ground. Propping her staff to the wall and his own sword on the other. “Rest.” Another insistence on that part. Side stepping, “I’ll collect tinder to make a small fire. You should eat and drink what is within your bags to keep your strength up.”
Theon side stepped another foot, “Then I will stand watch outside.” He’d bandage up himself at that time as well, deciding that if he was bleeding, he could at least use it to act as potential bait for anything that might be too interested in the night. Lure it away to elsewhere as not to hinder her currently.
Araminta almost defaulted into doing exactly as he instructed, simply from the shock of it all and not wanting to make things more difficult for him. Thankfully sense kicked in quickly, so instead of sitting Araminta frowned and rest her hands on her hips. Better than to grab at him, as she was a little afraid to see him flinch if she made any sudden movements.
“I’m not going to let you wander around a blighted village bleeding all over the place to get yourself eaten by undead or otherwise. You sit there,” she pointed at the cloak on the ground. By the serious frown on her face, this was for certain something she was about to full on argue about.
“…please let me fix it,” she softened. “I delt the damage, I should fix it. Then you can do as you wish.”
It would be somewhat surprising to go from silence to that of observing the princess folding her hands upon hips. Watching her features shed away from her internal dissecting into that which was a rather fearsome looking frown on her features. Shortly pointing out that she was not about to let him go doing what he thought might be helpful. “I was…” Mouth had opened in a vain attempt to express that he thought the means of the blood would work well to avoid any predators checking their way during the night. But something about the way she looked foretold that any resistance he had, was about to only encourage her to grow more furious with him.
Do as your told.
It seemed to be a long pronounced expression that had an ugly turn to reassert itself now. Glimpsing over the bend of her mouth as if expecting her to say it now in her own voice.
He was in no place to disobey, was he?
Acquinsencing to an nod, he moved to where she had pointed. Kneeling down and being wise to avoid that of any glaring or displeased gaze from her. Simply taking to waiting for what was to be next.
He was going to make her cry all over again, but it really wasn’t his fault. None of it was even close to being his fault – it was all his mother of whom Araminta was growing to hate with every fiber of her being. Managing that anger was something new for Araminta, as she’d spent her whole life living in a little safe cocoon where the biggest frustrations were yelling at her brothers or having a fight with her sister. Even after that, she’d only known terror from the demons that attacked her home, not this bubbling, roiling anger.
Wiping her hands on her pants, Araminta set to fetching the little kit in her pack she’d put together for such emergency wounds, as well as the waterskin. Once she made sure her own hands were clean, the princess knelt next to him to survey just how badly she hurt him and what would need to be done. First and foremost taking the time to clean the blood away from the cut and see if it’d be necessary for him to remove articles or not.
After a few moments of her scowling silence, she did finally speak.
“I’m furious and I don’t know what to do,” she admitted softly. If there was one thing she had learned, is that she needed to talk to him and tell him what was on her mind. Else he’d make the worst assumptions – again not his fault. As was so painfully proven today.
“I’ve tried so hard to make sure you can feel safe and now she’s snatched it away. She could have just killed me and ended it right there. Instead she decides to torture you needlessly and for what? It’s bullshit. You’ll have to forgive me for being so unladylike, but it’s bullshit that she gets to just torment you so. I hate her and I hate that I can’t go back to the capitol and tell her she’s nothing more than an alpaca’s hairy arse and beat her with my stick.”
Araminta sighed heavily, dropping her hands into her lap and eyeing the wound with regret. At least his armor did a good job of protecting him again and it wasn’t anything so deep that it’d be a dangerous hinderance. Still, he’d sustained two wounds now at her own hands. He was likely to get so many more.
“Asking you to stay with me was selfish and now look what’s happened.”
With due silence and a lot of internal dread finding that he didn’t really care for its looming presence when it came from Araminta. Awaiting a sense of foreboding lashing that might have been concentrated back in the means that he was failing at whatever he wasn’t able to preconceive. Wondering if there was a way to be more attentive and to avoid these scenarios that were probably impossible to guess on unless they were involved with the planning process. Granted, he had been involved with the straw doll part. Though how that worked with throwing it in the fire to here, that was a mystery that just would not be unraveled.
It felt like a lifetime of waiting then. Giving him strong uncomfortable recollections of those times when he did overstep lines he had not been aware of. Or spoke in a way that showed deference.
Finding that the wound was hardly as painful as this lengthy lingering.
Eventually she spoke up about being furious with no obvious way of to do with it. Still it was in his better knowledge to slacken his posture as to not offer even a hint of suggestion that he had an idea of how or what to do. Simply listening. As such a thing opened into her expressing that her anger was aimed towards the Imperial Queen. Something that was evolving into hatred. Eliciting a short glimpse at the corner of eye while he thought it terrible that she felt that at all. Though he wasn’t about to start shaming her for speaking in such a manner, she was entitled to how she felt of course. Although he was not sure how his mother would take to being called an alpaca’s hairy arse. It didn’t sound good. Rather it sounded as though a fine way to have oneself beheaded where they stood.
Hands themselves dropped into her lap and the words next seemed like a fine point for him to reply gingerly. “I will leave then at the early light as not to cause you these feelings. It may be the only thing I could do for you.” He meant it. Every bit of strength he had was conveyed to suggest that if it was his existence in her proximity that was causing her to feel so frustrated, so upset, then it would be best if he removed himself. While he was not sure what would happen next and when she might find him worth the effort of stabbing at her own volition, he didn’t seek to cause her anguish. Folding his own hands into his lap then, “I can only offer gratitude for your patience thus far. . . it— is not much. But it is earnest.”
Araminta was expecting this sort of response this time, so the twinge of hurt wasn’t near so deep. Recognizing now, that his first immediately response was always that of least resistance. To defer to whatever it was that she wanted, without taking the time to think about what himself needed. And while the thought of him deciding he did want to go and finally escape all of this, to be as far away from her and his mother as possible, Araminta wanted to be sure it was a thing he chose with all knowledge and options at his disposal. Not something he thought another wanted, or did because he didn’t know what else to do.
Still all she really wanted to do was throw her arms around his neck and hold him.
“That is a thing you could do,” she responded, taking the moment to place a bandage over his wound and hold it there tight to help the cut clot faster. “But it wouldn’t make those feelings go away. I’m still going to be angry about what she does to you.”
Bandage set in place, she caved into those soothing instincts, reaching out to take one of his hands to hold in both of hers. A squeezing comfort as best she could give.
“You told me earlier that I have skills I don’t credit myself for. Did you know that so do you? You’ve been through so much and still have the fortitude of a standing mountain. Unbroken and strong, and somehow still so compassionate. That hateful woman is trying so hard to crush all the thought and feelings out of you, but she hasn’t. Now you’ve even proven it and I am so very proud of you. I’ve never met anyone like you before and keeping you safe matters to me.”
It was a thing he could do. Would do. If it meant a chance to lessen the negative weight that rested like a boulder upon her, then there would be no second thought. Of course he didn’t really have a concept of what this friendship relationship consisted of, but it seemed important enough to him to avoid as much and possibly even more if it were able to be done, to stop her from feeling anything terrible with him around. And thus far, it was evident that the queen certainly wanted to make her suffer in ways that easily went over his head.
Glancing at the bandage being pressed tight –offering a twinge of displeasure at it- confusion rose first before a sliver of comprehension followed. With a little bit of uncertainty. “I do not think you need to cause yourself concern of what she does to me. It is normal. Familiar.” This Imperial Queen and his station as princely dog was nothing new. Though using Araminta was but supposed that was because she had been the first person that managed to have him open even a little bit from his stubborn oyster existence. And it had thusly pained him to think about watching it again through his memories. Realizing how important it had been and was still for him to harbor those fleshy squishy emotions away so they couldn’t affect so painfully.
It wasn’t seemingly to be now as when he found her hand in his own being squeezed with an effort that didn’t seem like it was attempting to be cruel but gentle, he felt a strong aversion towards it. No… not aversion, strong wriggling unfamiliarity that felt a want to withdraw away. As if the gentle motion was akin to putting one’s hand in the fire!
Glancing at it and then nervously up under brows at her seeing as she had more to say. Far too aware of his hand now.
It apparently wasn’t about to stop for Araminta was doing that thing again. Making him truly uncomfortable with every gentle complimentary word that eventually he felt the need to tug away and figuratively hiss at the efforts. “Please stop.” Theon hummed giving his head a shake. “What happens between me and the Imperial Queen is familiar. This… is not.” Breath came in thankfully slow with a sturdy pull. Idly taking his hand into his own to knead it. “I do not wish for you to be at risk, Araminta. No to feel the weight of further burden. . . however, you do not need to bend words to be lyrical and gentle. Nor… should you feel responsible or stressed to keep me safe. You’ve got more than enough on your shoulders already, please do not add me as another.”
The man shifted awkwardly, “What is it you wish to do then… I do not know how to solve that of your anger.”
He couldn’t even stand to have her touch him. Simple friendly affection were so foreign and unknown, that it apparently was a form of torture all in itself! Giving Araminta such a sense of lonely sorrow to even see him like this. But what was she to do? Forcing it on him wasn’t any better than the cruelties he’d already been through.
Theon didn’t want her to soothe him through touch or words, and Araminta would have to comply. It might possibly kill her long before the Imperial Queen ever did, for nothing went against her instincts more!
“If I told you to stop worrying about me, would you?” she asked, pointedly. “You might stop taking the actions to care for me, if I asked, but you’d still worry. As I am going to continue to worry about you. Because you’re my friend, and you’re worth the care.”
“Regardless,” she continued with a sigh. “My anger can’t be resolved in a day anymore than the rest of our problems. But that’s okay? It’s enough for me that you’re here to listen and that we’re safe. Our plans haven’t changed… though I think when we’re in a larger town we could look into things that ward off magic spells. Does that sound like a good plan?”
The act of physical kindness, soothing, affection were akin to items that might as well have been fables told by old crazy men that stood on soap boxes raving about the end of times. Sure that maybe sometime he might have wanted such things but being devoid of it from as long as he could remember, there was little to assuage the knowledge that her actions were gentle. Not malicious.
Requiring a statement that he was far more accustomed to cruelties instead of niceties.
Thankfully she didn’t seem to press in the literal term. Instead deciding to speak about whether or not he could stop worrying about her if the shoe was on the other foot. That regardless if one stopped the actions of trying to aid or care, the lingering press of one’s mind would remain. Wanting to do everything possible to lessen that worry for either source. Funny how his mouth wanted to combat that she was making an odd exception for the son of the Queen that wanted her dead. Avoiding speaking such nonsense with good insight.
It was the mention that it was enough that he just was there presently to listen and they were seemingly safe, that stuck out at him. Encouraging a look across her to assure his mind that she was in fact, safe. A four letter word that one was.
“If… that is… your wish.” He considered her plan thoughtfully. Nodding soon to agree it was in fact suitable though he was trying not to think too heavily on the fact he was still included upon this plot. And yet, guilt remained. “I am sorry I was not present when you found the doll… The Imperial Queen was making it upon my last visit. I had not known what it was and for that, it put you in danger. Her use of dark arts is.. hard to follow without understanding.” Theon was peering at her still, “You are… alright?”
What a relief that he wasn’t closing up and going silent again, nor was he insisting that he needed to leave! Bringing Araminta to reach out with her hand again, only to just as quickly to remember that he didn’t like it, and having to pull back to clutch it to her own chest.
“I feel a bit scorched on the inside, but I’m alright,” she did admit. Araminta also very much would’ve liked a hug herself, but was certain if she said so he’d actually attempt to try and then give himself the creepy crawlies in the process. She was a grown woman and going to have to deal with these fears on her own and learn how to be more self reliant.
“What she does isn’t on you Theon,” she tried to reassure him. “She’s sure to try more desperate things, but we make a good team and we’ll figure it out together. All she’ll really succeed in doing is making us more careful.”
Perhaps too in making Araminta crave violence, but as she softly examined his face to be sure the entire ordeal hadn’t completely set him back too many steps, she decided she could do her best to set that aside too. More than ever he needed experiences that weren’t rife with danger and stress. The sooner they caught her fish and destroyed that demon alter, the faster they could be on their way to that lovely sea port town.
“Are you okay?” she then asked. “Not just the cut, but you?”
In a moment of a single second, his gaze was upon her hand. Watching it with similar caution that a stray animal might to a person they weren’t entirely sure was safe yet. But close enough that that instinct to be wary wasn’t making them bolt either. Just observant to the point that when she laid it to dormancy upon her own chest, he was sure he could tell there was something behind that action. Unknown as it was but more.
Broken concentration from that came to the suggestion that she felt scorched on the inside. Creating his own fingers to flex somewhat, humming first before speaking. “If it aches, tell me. I will… can heal.” Leaving it to her discretion as it wouldn’t do her any good if her innards were actually a bit more crispy than they ought to be.
Once more Araminta seemed to be the mote of wisdom. Speaking up about how what the Imperial Queen did was hardly due to his involvement or action. Although he didn’t exactly find that assuring, she had spoken the truth. The queen upon her possession could have killed Ara immediately. Rather than trying to goad him back into blind compliance. What would she have thought had he reacted the way the majesty wanted? That was enough to encompass a stronger sense of remorse. New things he didn’t know what to do with. Figuratively feeling like his arms were plenty full of items that had no place yet or ever would.
Silver did its internal search soon enough to assess the thick of her question. Pointing out she wasn’t that interested in just the cut but something further. Provoking brows to bunt close to another, “I do not know.” Emotions, they were just complex irritations. More than he wanted to deal with. “I will be fine.”
Araminta almost blurted out an immediate yes to that of healing. That cozy, fuzzy, numb feeling of bliss still lingering in the back of her mind like a tempting little treat. Maybe it wouldn’t be the same as when he’d tried to heal her leg wound, but surely it would be just as nice for a moment not to hurt so much.
It was TOO tempting, something that might be dangerous if she allowed it. A way she might abuse him for his talents for something wholy unnecessary.
“No healing needed, I’ll sit here and drink water and rest until it’s time for more fishing,” she explained. Choosing to focus on him and his admittance that he wasn’t sure how he felt. At least that she completely understood, as he was still here learning the full range of the world’s emotions now that he was no longer on his own and under the thumb of someone so abusive.
“When you’re ready to talk about things, I’ll listen. I’m nothing but a giant ball of feelings, so I might have good advice,” came her gentle tease.
Shifting to check once more the bandage on his arm to be sure he was physically alright too, Araminta relented to finally sitting down proper with her legs crossed, then giving a curious glance around at the abandoned home he’d chosen for the sleepover.
If that was what she wished then he was not about to go into full complaining mode about how they couldn’t have known what happened on her insides with that… smoke dragon within. He’d never heard of such a thing. He’d heard of voodoo dolls before, something that when he seen the doll originally had been his assumption. That his mother had someone’s hair and blood within the doll so she could do whatever she wanted with it. Only for him to burn it of course and later to have it stated that he was the source for such a malicious death. Of whomever.
Instead was some sort of plume based beast of lizard variety that had puppeted itself into Araminta’s being.
It only boded ill truly. What else was there up that of the Imperial Queen’s endless sleeves.
He might prefer to overstress on that topic instead of fumbling around like some drunken toddler with the means of stupid emotions that gave him so far a whole lot of issues. Disliking how he was able to tell his comfort came more so from the lack of replying, acting, caring when such things were shoved deep, deep down. “I don’t even know how one would begin with such things. Nor would I want to even attempt it.” Declaring her offer for him to blather on like some crazed fool was hardly something worth entertaining.
Regardless of his own thoughts, he knew when a person was far too damaged to be of repair. Eventually one had to accept it was broken and let it lie as it was. The better part to that was when you were a singular organism with the comfort of only oneself, it made it a lot easier to not worry about what might just be wrong enough that others would want to decide if it was worth mending or tossing.
“Rest.” He stated again likely for the umpteenth time. “I will keep watch.”
At least Araminta could be sure he was indeed a normal man, as of course the thought of talking about or dealing with feelings would be something he’d prefer avoided! Had she not known the whys of it, she would have laughed at the irony. Instead, she allowed his avoidance – for now – and his escape.
“Be careful, please.” she bid him. Not sure if she wanted him go off keeping watch without her, but also not wanting to give in to fears too much. If they couldn’t be separated it’d make simple existing hard to do. They needed the ability to act independently just as much as they needed to work together!
Araminta even made sure he could see her taking that drink of water as well as digging a bit of the food out of her pack to have a small meal, so he’d not fret too much over her. Wishing she could get him to do the same with a meal or even a decent night of sleep. One day she hoped she figured out the magic ingredient that finally would get him to settle down and relax even for a night. Idly daydreaming of Essurn, and how the change of scenery and objective was going to be such a refreshing difference from old huts and creepy monsters.
At some point she did finally lay down, curling up with her cloak over her when it felt too cool. Araminta hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, hoping to be awake and alert in case some spooky cultist showed up or undead started climbing the walls. It seemed no matter how hard she tried, she was always in some manner or form completely exhausted the second she was foolish enough to lay down!