Come morning, after a sleepless night, Araminta had to face her new reality of being on her own once again. As tempting as it was to just hideaway in the little bed and become a living statue here in this holy temple, it’d be such a rude thing to do to all of the priests and monks that made this place their home and a space to care for others that actually needed it. It was a hard truth too in remembering that she had a mission of her own before she’d met Theon, one that she still felt was important to complete. She’d find a way to keep going forward as she always had, until something finally succeeded in swallowing her up.
While she was struggling to put on those soft armor pieces, Reeves made his reappearance to check on her, with his ward no where in sight.
“Good morning, dear lady! I see that your guardian is no longer with us. …may I?” he asked, gesturing his fingers towards the bits of armor.
Araminta could not quite meet his sunny smile, but still nodded and mumbled a quiet thank you for the help.
“I had to let him go,” she finally said, quietly watching as the paladin set to work helping lace the cuff at her wrist.
Reeves made a thoughtful sound, not quite giving her an obvious up and down look, but it was clear he hadn’t failed to notice her disposition. “It was not a decision made lightly, I take it.”
She shook her head, finding now that it was being spoken out loud, she hated it even more. Now that well of tears was finally trying to force their way up and out, with Araminta struggling to take in a deep breath and keep a brave face.
“It was the best thing for him. He- he carries so much on his shoulders already and these trials that I’m doing are only going to grow more dangerous. I should’ve never let him stay with me in the first place.”
To this statement both of the paladin’s dark caterpillar eyebrows rose up, though he didn’t have a response right away. Merely moved to help with her other wrist before he finally nodded in understanding.
“I see that you are also a woman of candor, Princess Araminta. Seems a shame that a pair who cares so much for one another would part ways when they appear to be force of nature when together.”
That almost made her crack a wry sort of smile, as she did think so too. Araminta had been better because of Theon, and she had thought he’d been better too.
“What makes you think I am a Princess Araminta?” she asked instead, curious about this master paladin that Theon had so emphatically insisted would be a far better help to her.
Reeves erupted into a laugh. “These days our order dwindles into nothing due to the actions of the Imperial Queen. Information is powerful. If there is a rumor on the winds of what the Queen is up to, including that of her Hand, then I will know it. And with great interest all of the twelve kingdoms now whisper of the Princess from a small mountain kingdom taking up the trials, the Imperial Prince whose hand in marriage was refused yet now bears witness, and the increasingly foul mood of her royal imperial majesty, Bloody Heirra. There has never been more interest in one taking the trials than now.”
Araminta knew it would be a bit of gossip, but she was still surprised that it had reached so far. Though now without Theon, she was unsure how the gossip would change. Would they think he abandoned her and turn back to believing he was nothing more than the monster his mother made him to be? Would it be something else?
“May I ask how far you have gotten in the trials so far?” Reeves asked amidst her silence.
“We had just finished the fifth trial when I fell asleep. I would never have gotten that far at all had it not been for Theon. I would’ve died at the second for certain.”
“And the next…?”
“I must find the phylactery of a lich. I am… not looking forward to it.” she replied with a grimace. Araminta had never seen a lich before, but she knew it was a creature of the undead. A wizard or mage that had severed their soul into pieces so they might find everlasting life. It sounded terrifying, and she wasn’t sure if she’d be lucky enough to just find the item laying about without running into a lich itself. There was good reason this particular trial was one that so many ended their quest with.
Reeves had finished helping her with the armor pieces and now stood with one arm wrapped around his waist, while his other hand stroked that of his dark beard. Thoughtful and contemplating.
“Is there something we can assist you with? We are at your beck and call, Princess Araminta. For the sake of the Imperial Prince who asked us to do so on your behalf, but too because you are without a doubt a daughter of the Lady of Light. If we can help it would be done.”
Of course Theon would’ve asked them to take care of her, Araminta wouldn’t have expected anything less. It nearly broke her into tears again, but she managed to swallow the lump in her throat to consider this offer carefully. Not one to brush it off simply because she was hurting.
“…there is a village called Neive that’s been blighted by a curse. Where someone has raised the idol of a demon lord in place of an old god and now it pours poison into the lake attracting slimes that have also tainted the waters. Would you be able to go there and heal the village?” she asked.
“Your guardian did mention to us such a village. Padma and I are already making arrangements to go there ourselves to see what might be done.”
“And there is a mine…” she added on, suddenly remembering. “It isn’t actually a mine, there is an ancient elven city underground where once a great tree grew. There was no one living there, not for ages I think, but the enormous spider we encountered had– It did not feel of this world? There are demonic beasts and if anything would be demonic, that spider would be so…”
This had Reeves raising his eyebrows again, but he nodded his affirmation that it too would be looked after. “And what of your trial?”
“Hmn…” This Araminta had to pause and think over with a frown. Ultimately it was a soft shake of her head. “The trials are my responsibility to bear, I won’t have someone else at risk for it. Not anymore. If I make other curious discoveries – of other places that need help – I might send you letters of the where and who?”
“It would be our deepest honor to serve such a noble quest, as it has been far too long since ones true of heart have guided our order. I am certain that our Lady of Light will weave a guiding road for you and your Imperial Prince that leads you well where you need to be.”
Araminta truly hoped with all of her aching heart that his statement was true.
The kingdom of Alm. He had visited a few times before and found himself compelled to do so after departing the temple. Though it was hardly what it would have been in its original hayday, it was one of the smaller lands that had been the first to deny alliance to the Imperial Queen. And fell hard for it. As one might be able to tell by the outstanding relics of giant rubble and half clattered walls that would have been the original keep of a city that had been home to shamans and elementals. Now, it was a small community that was easily about three handfuls of residences. Engulf in emerald tall grass and a petite market square that made its centre in what had been the entrance to the keep that would have been the castle. Utilizing the old flat flagstones to house their movable stalls.
Decorating the space with colourful bunting that ran from stretch canopy topper to canopy topper. While the dirt roads were made by foot and cart travel, he had come here for a particular reason.
It was not entirely just to appreciate the small place but because this was where Hector was. An elder gentleman that fairly someone of great skill. And a former Imperial Guard that had been slaughtered when the kingdom fell so many years ago. Personally he had only been a few years old. Likely when Yara had tried to kill him. The first time. Barely grateful with that unwelcomed thought being at the cusp of his earliest memories and the ugly reality of the baring of itch at his neck to where she had tried to slice his throat.
If any of his late siblings were like the Imperial Queen, Yara was close. A wicked beast of a child that only failed her attempt because the nanny at the time topped a eight year old from killing a three year old. And paid for it with her own life. Etching that first real smell of others blood into his nose.
The thought was grisly but it had reason to be brought up. It affirmed a little more that the Imperial Queen did need to be managed. Not too sure if he could truly end the woman’s life –he might not have had any love for her, but he didn’t know if he could stoop so low as to kill her as she did her own family.- it memory did well to convict his decision.
Unsurprised when those on the road seemed to grow curious and wilt in a manner of seconds after when he passed by on a mission himself. Leading himself along the worn dirt to veer to his left at the market instead of right that might lead him into it. Where the house built from glass sparkled in the emerald grass. Allowing him a swift entry that when the glass door was lightly closed behind, the stench of old tobacco was practically cloying. Feeling the singular eye press upon him in a raptor like hold, before a wheezing exhale rattled from dirty lungs. “Look what the cat drug in.” The man was well close to his late fifties as least.
Worn, scarred and cauliflowered at the ears, missing spots in his beard that were bared to show ripping scars. Marring the entirety of the right side of his mouth to the left of his face. A bend of flame broiled skin and wooden eye staring off in the direction of the sky while the only good eye was almost mysteriously sparkling in mirthful irritation. “Prince Theon,” fingers that weren’t melted down to the nubs worked at pinching a long pipe from lips. Holding it out to breath the cloud of ash through nose and make a rather mocking motion of a bow at him. “Don’t tell me, the great fop of a woman, Heirra finally clued in that she didn’t succeed in killing me and now has sent her little bastard of a pup here.”
He personally wasn’t about to invite that sort of conversation. “I am looking for something that can’t be traced by blood, taste, smell or sight. That can be ingested that would cause at least strong paralysis.” Theon made it a bold tone, “And I know you are the man to speak too for such items. As a former assassin of the Imperial Queen.”
A brow arched at him, “What makes you think I’d be the one at all.”
“I do not know.” Theon replied easily, “Hope?”
The singular word seemed to tickle the man’s ribs rather profusely. Turning from spitting cackles into haggard phlegm riddled coughs. Doubling over, striking the nearest table of leafy residents before gathering his strength back. “You ain’t too bright, are you?” That wasn’t about to get an answer either, “Why would I help the child of that old sow? Who you planning on disposing for that used up cunt that would warrant me pulling my knowledge and resources, hmm.”
“Gusteau.” He stated the name so suddenly that watching Hector’s face, it was like he didn’t even realize the name had been said. Before his face grew to shock. Then furrowed deeply, “I cannot get close to the Imperial Queen with him near. And I am not capable of winning against him. However, I am certain I can at least wound him and for that, I would need something that could be untraceable and quick acting as a poison to have upon my weapons. If there is a possibility of removing him from the picture, then perhaps others might seek to start standing up too. It is merely a thought.”
A thought that apparently left Hector just gawking at him.
Click.click.click.click.
Heels pounded against ancient stone at a furious speed, red velvet and silk dragging around the ground in a soft swish of sound. Hands with nails perfectly manicured to sharpened tips shoved open a pair of imposing double doors to enter and chamber that had been forbidden to all since always – certainly a long time ago before any of the castle’s current inhabitants worked there. After all, fable told that the ones that were ordered to build that very castle were murdered on the day the last stone was set.
Imperial Queen Heirra waltzed into the room with purpose in mind, crowned head held high as she walked along the sigil of obsidian black stone inlaid on the floor passing mirrors – seven large full length mirrors gilded in gold set about the room in a circle. As she passed each one there came a curl of her hand and the mirrored glass rippled in response. Until every mirror had stopped it’s reflection to glow an eerie red with shadowy forms of black appearing to watch her pace.
“Where is the girl,” she demanded to know.
The shadows of black all disappeared. Some flitting over to different mirrors. Reappearing, disappearing. Until all returned at once again and one gravely hissing voice answered.
“The girl has vanished from us,” it said. “Our connection is severed,” said another.
“She is marked, is she not?” the Queen questioned.
A few of the shadows switched places in the mirrors again, almost as if they were trying to dodge her from being too close when she’d step over to one of the mirrors.
“What once was there as means to see, now is not,” responded a third. “A faerie’s blessing is now stronger than our sight.”
Heirra screamed, a shrill terrifying sound as she smashed the side of her fist against one of the mirrors – it didn’t shatter but the shadow within seemed to quake and quiver. How could one girl be so difficult to remove.
Oh, she knew very well how.
Snarling under her breath, the Imperial Queen glided across past the circle of mirrors, igniting a large wall of wooden boxes into a bath of firelight. Simple, unimpressive little things they were, but it wasn’t the outsides that were important. Knowing exactly which one she needed, Heirra summoned it to her hands and carried it over to a black clothed table to open it up.
A heart laid inside, still beating. Still breathing.
“Little traitorous bastard, how you were the one out of them all to live, I shall never understand,” she sighed deeply, as if this was truly something that had always weighed heavily on her shoulders. Glancing over her shoulder at the wall of boxes where the hearts of many of her children now lay, still and dead. Drained of everything that had made them unique and powerful in their own rights. Any single one of them would have been a better Hand. Disobedient, wild, violent, uncontrollable as they were… at least they knew the true meaning of her crown.
“Gusteau,” she called out to the shadows. Like the ones in the mirror, he answered to her call within seconds. Stepping out of the black darkness as if he were made of the shadows himself. Armor of rusted black that very well could have been made of a demon’s scale, and the gnarly scar that ran down his cruel face. No hair was on his head or his face and his beady eyes were just as black and empty as the room around them.
“My Queen,” he announced, bowing low with his reverence.
“It is time for a hunt, Gusteau. Show my son the price for his defiance. A trip to the farm, perhaps. For him and the girl that he thought was worth risking my ire.”
“It will be my joy, Queen Heirra,” replied Gusteau, that grizzled mouth turning wider and wider into a most feral of grins.
With a pleased humming sound, Heirra reached out and grabbed the beating heat. Giving it a good hard, punishing squeeze.
And so Gusteau began his hunt.
Without discretion and with absolute cruelty, the man – if he could even be considered such – began first in the Imperial City. Any woman or girl that matched Princess Araminta’s description – the height, the ebony hair, evergreen eyes, and pretty face… slaughtered. There was no fast kill or merciful blow. They were butchered in some form or fashion, cut up in ways one might break down an animal. The bodies left strung up or tied up, hanging and dangling for all the world to see.
As he left the Imperial City and spread out into the village and kingdoms beyond, this public message became very clear. If they were not the girl he sought, they were dead. As plain as that.
Without Theon’s speedy steed, Araminta was back to traveling on foot again. Though now without the ache and pain of having to limp along with her wounded leg. Before she’d left the temple, Reeves and Padma helped her with an updated map for her trials. Something more recent as well as marking down new notes and places that would be helpful for her, both in terms of traveling as well as accomplishing the trials themselves. Theon hadn’t been wrong that they would be a help to her, although she knew he probably expected them to take up the role of her protectors and guardians. That just… Araminta couldn’t allow them to do so. It was more important that they go out to help the blighted village or others that needed them, at least to Araminta. She would do the best she could on her own without bringing anyone else down with her.
By now she’d been on the road for a week or more, and there was surely a few good days of travel yet just to reach the next marker on her map. Araminta adjusted the wooden faerie pin on her cloak with a particularly cold gust of wind came blowing through. It felt as if autumn was soon to come to a close and winter would be fast behind it. As much as Araminta loved the snow, it was not going to be very fun to travel in.
Nothing was really all that fun these days regardless. She missed getting to chatter with Theon. Or even just walking in silence with the man. Who knew one could actually miss the silence too! It was hard not thinking about him, so she didn’t try to avoid it. Instead just lingering along with her sadness and allowing herself to daydream up what he might’ve been doing. She hoped he visited more places like Essurn and was starting to understand sunsets.
In the meantime she would have to stop along the road soon for a break and a bit of food, and then she would be off again.
“Look here,” The elder man’s smoky tone started to raise once more. Brandishing the pestle at him in a way that there was clear agitation muddled with concern with that threatening object. His only good eye seeming to struggle with the effort of appearing unfazed by the intensity that was the damn pain rushing along his body. Particularly centering in his chest to where heart itself felt like it was about to implode with the squeezing pain that flared a little too often to simply just be a random flutter of organ. “If you’re about to keel over, do it over there.” Hector thrust the pestle club towards the nearby floor. As if that was a grace that was intending to be sweet.
The first time this happened, he had brushed it off. It wasn’t exactly the first time this had occurred but for this level of consistency… that was the first.
“Damn brat of a prince… doesn’t eat or sleep and about to flop over on my working bench like some damn expired meat.” Hector muttered purposefully loudly. As if attempting to mask the worry that seemed to be ever noticeable. No matter how much the former worker to the Imperial Queen wanted to hate him, it seemed like Hector was having some difficulty doing so.
Not entirely sure why. “Grab that one there, make yourself useful.”
Wincing and nodding with a forced straightening –making his hand release the ball of the tunic- he did as he was instructed. Picking up some strange looking white frosted leaves to offer back to the master.
In his hay day, Hector was one of those selected few that the Queen chose. His knowledge of poisons in particular were notorious. Making him a fine specimen to work for the woman’s mad wants. Though of course when Hector had been issued to destroy the original royal family here in Alm, he apparently chose to deny that order. The rest was clearly history if one looked at the man’s deformed and scarred body.
It wasn’t surprising that Hector was leery of him. Though after the few days he has spent here and earned plenty an earful about many of his own issues; the man softened. Granted, he wasn’t about to say anything about that. Sure that Hector might try to do something to say otherwise.
For now, he acted the part of unlikely assistant to the man. Watching and learning the process of whatever this particular poison was going to be. “It has to stay to your weapon blades, but that means you best not be touching them either with bare hands. Unless you want a swift death yourself.”
Theon blinked a moment. Seemingly contemplative, “Boy, you really are a going concern if you are thinking that hard on something that should come naturally as a no.”
“Oh.”
After a long day of walking Araminta finally made it to her stop, a small little village along the main road – if it could even be called a village! There weren’t many buildings or homes, mostly just a few live in business and a single Inn that doubled as a tavern. Really, there were so many places like this through-out the kingdoms that this one wasn’t anything special. Araminta was just glad it seemed friendly as her day of walking had been long and she was far too tired to deal with leery strangers.
As was habit and because she was ready for food and a night of sleep in an actual bed, she dropped into the Inn’s tavern first. Taking a seat on one of the wooden bar stools and giving the woman behind the bar a friendly but subdued smile compared to the sunny disposition she usually had.
“Is it too late to order a meal?” she asked politely. “If so, just a bed for the night would be appreciated. I have the coin, but if there’s work you need done, I’d happy to take that on too.”
The woman was at least a good twenty or so years older than Araminta, judging by the faint sight of wrinkles on her face. Though there were no streaks of silver in her dark hair, and a youthful sparkle in her otherwise tired jade green eyes. Their similarities were shallow at best, there was something about the woman that reminded Araminta of her mother, which set her stomach churning in brief moment of melancholy sadness.
“You got me just in time, girlie. ’bout to close up the tavern for the night. Let me see what I can getcha.” The woman responded easily, clearly tired from the day and a bit stiff in the back but friendly enough. She disappeared into the back for a few minutes and Araminta could hear the sounds of bustling around before she returned with a plate of very bland looking cold boiled chicken, a chunk of bread covered in butter and a mug full of lukewarm milk. She set them down on the counter in front of Araminta, placing her hands on the bar top with an expectant, almost combative look as if she were expecting Araminta to kick up a fuss about her offerings.
Araminta blinked back at her, quick to say thank you and take a drink of the milk. To which the woman finally softened, to take on a slightly more friendly countenance.
“You look a lil young to be travelin’ on your own out here,” she commented. “How old are you, sixteen?”
The princess actually cracked a smile, ripping off a piece of the buttered bread to pop into her mouth before she answered. “Closer to twenty five. I’m small, it’s deceiving.”
“Aye, that is it. You aught to be married with at least three little bairnes by now, whacha doin’ all the way out here?”
“Trying to find my way back home,” she answered simply. That was the truth, even if it wasn’t the full complicated scope of it. Araminta just didn’t think it was wise to announce she was going the trials everywhere she went. Especially when she was alone. Now more than ever she would need to rely on the mystery and gossip about it to help keep herself safe.
“Hard a hard go of it, huh,” responded the woman, seeming to understand the girl had likely found her way into trouble in one form or another. Usually these pretty ones tended to get lured away from home by sweet talking, charming bastards that end up leaving them the second they got pregnant or a prettier face came along. This one didn’t appear to be with child, so at least she had that going for her.
“You’re willin’ to do some chores, you said?” she asked Araminta. “Got some crates out back that need to be moved into the kitchen n’ my knees can’t handle it. That’ll cover the meal. I’ll take the coin for the room. Best eat quick though, girlie, I got lil’ ones and a husband of my own to get home to.”
Knowing the woman had somewhere to be, Araminta did her best to polish off the meal quickly while the woman finished her own chores of cleaning up and closing up for the night. They chatted casually about nothing all that important – her name was Nan and she had four kids she was fond of, and a husband she wasn’t but loved anyway. Nan wasn’t too keen on running an Inn and Tavern, but it’d been in the family for awhile and she didn’t have the heart to sell it. She’d rather be back at the farm with her babies. Araminta knew she must be a wonderful mother, as the woman was very insistent on giving her advice about not trusting pretty gentleman with empty promises. It was wholly unnecessary as the only gentleman in Araminta’s recent life had been Theon and that was just…
It put a bunch of very silly, imaginative thoughts into her head that were not helping her let go of the man at all!
Once she was done with her meal, Araminta headed out back behind the tavern to go about lifting and moving the crates into the kitchen. Only one or two of them were especially heavy, but she could see how it might be difficult for an older mother who had already been working hard on her feet all day. There were a lot of them too so it took her a good hour before she’d hauled them all into the pantry storage.
On a job well done, Araminta returned to the tavern proper, dusting off her hands as she passed through the doors… to find an imposingly tall figure standing there in the middle of the room. Armor a joltingly familiar shade of pitch black, though it was rusted at every joint and crevice. When he turned on hearing her footsteps, he didn’t hair a lick of hair on that head of his but his scar was so deeply disturbing it suggested he’d once been cleaved right in the face with something mighty sharp do hard that it had even misshapened his skull. Her eyes followed down to the floor where a lump of limbs and fabric lay, somehow still breathing in a growing pool of crimson.
Araminta found herself frozen there for an eternity, almost hearing the agonized screams and shouts of memories gone by there in her head. Eyes of verdant evergreen rising quickly to meet beady black. When time decided to start moving again, she’d yanked her bone knife out of her belt – not that she’d even had a thought yet about what she was going to do next. Nor did she even have a chance to do so as he was at her in an instead. Grabbing and twisting her wrist until she yelped and it fell from her grasp. His hand on her throat and lifting her and inch off the ground as he squeezed.
“What is your name,” he demanded. His voice grizzled and throaty, with breath that smelled of death itself.
The frightened sound she croaked out wasn’t the answer he wanted, so he squeezed even tighter until Araminta was seeing spots, then loosened just enough so she could speak.
“What is your name,” he asked again, giving her that little squeeze to remind her what would happen if she didn’t answer.
“Ara- Aramin- ta…!”
“There you are,” he laughed. It was the last sound she hard before everything went horrifyingly dark.
Gusteau was quite pleased about his turn of luck. He’d gone through many cities and villages now, having a great deal of fun plucking up women that looked close enough to the little princess he’d been seeking. He didn’t care too much if they didn’t fit the description exactly – the point had always been to send a message to the bastard child of his beloved queen. He’d almost reached a hundred souls by now and would have happily killed a hundred more.
Oh well. That was merely a whetting of his appetite. Now that he’d found the girl, the real fun could begin.
As for the poor tavern woman, he did not let her go to waste. Gusteau took his time to cut her up all pretty and drag her body out to the center of this pitiful little village. He’d taken everything the princess had on her – her clothes, her armor, her bag and meager weapons and dressed the woman up in them. Pulling the hood of her cloak up over her head before looping a rope around her neck and hoisting her up to leave swinging from the branch of the central square tree.
To be sure none of the villagers dared to come remove this little message meant only for one, he used a bit of spellcraft to be sure that no one but the Imperial Prince himself would be able to take her down. She’d drain her blood and rot like this forever if he never did.
It was beautiful.
With the job done, he gathered up the unconscious princess and stepped away into the shadows from whence he came. A nice long visit to the farm was in order, and Gusteau was so very excited to have a new guest to entertain.
“Come on now,” The sound and the wording was practically imprinted into his skull at this point. Neatly tucked right into the wrinkled crevice of brain as the current few locals of the little village had clustered into what was the tavern. More like a barn seeing as it had no more of a floor than merely dirt. And it truly was in an old barn, just gussied up enough that people could get a drink whilst entertaining the new bit of hot conversation they got from the single moving body in town that was the postman. A fellow that showed up steadily every day at the same time bringing news from the most outmost region for a few curious minds. And brought notices of other things that were far more grumbled at than interested in.
He’d been here a solid week and some now. Being told he grew on Hector like a fine black mold –not sure still if that was a compliment or not! Learning from the haggard gimp of things that would work well on those whom in his own words, were not quite right enough to even be demonic. Not sure what that meant either but knew it was aimed at Gusteau’s general spookiness. Something he didn’t have to remark on. After all, ever since he could remember, Gusteau made him increasingly uncomfortable.
For more reason than the fact the man was a little too thirsty in his job for blood and bone. More than just the knowledge that the Imperial Queen certainly had a fondness for the man that did things that would make even the most hardened criminal, look a saint.
But it was also that reason that he knew the black hand of the Imperial Queen ought to work well to rattle her pillars of stability. To lose someone that vital, it would certainly leave a nice big glaring hole where the freak once was. However, the means of creating the perfect item to use against Gusteau was taking a bit of time. Something in which Hector only said it did was because they had to make sure it fermented long enough that it turned entirely clear. Leaving the past three days just the two of them and with him getting an impromptu education about types of herbs and minerals that looked harmless but were quite dangerous. If mixed correctly. Often hearing that at least he didn’t talk too much, it made it easier for Hector to tell him what needed to be done.
Holding the door open for the poison’s expert to hobble in, Molly, the barn tavern’s waitress and clerk in one was already looking to greet them. Poised with rag in hand rubbing down the lip of a tall wooden tankard as another was resting in wait upon the makeshift bar that was already beckoning at Hector to come and take.
She wasn’t much older than him –if he had to guess- but she was rough around the edges in ways that seemed to make her both an idol here and a witch. Quick to lash out a stiff hand at any who thought her skirt needed lifting but sweet as a kitten when she found herself liking another. It was near whiplash the first time he seen it and still was trying to ponder it all together. Leaving him to be rather intrigued but dutiful on simply watching. Regardless they came in and pulled up the chairs at the bar. Earning her honey brown eyes attention and well, “Still nothing for you?”
Lightly he shook his head still not that motivated to try his hand at eating or drinking something here –especially here!- Hector let out a long annoyed sigh. But kept any comments to himself. “What’s the news today, Molly.”
She gave a thoughtful hum. Scrunching her nose and sort of shrugged after a moment. Leaving it almost unsaid that anything interest had been brought forth at all, save for the fact that the only few others in the area seemed to perk. In particular, one of Hector’s drinking buddies. More like a scarecrow than human, Den wasted barely a second to scuttle over to slap his hands on the bar. Effectively making it rattle with a toothless grin that spread all too wide, “Don’t be tellin’ no fibs now Molly! Quite the doozy of a tale that there old postman brought in today.”
“Den,” Molly looked like she was about to reach out and make this spindly old man meet his maker with one swat of her hand. “Now ain’t the time.”
This seemed to intrigue Hector, “What ain’t the time?” Stopped barely from taking that first barley sip of his mug. Making his good eye look intense but failing overall when that wooden eye was still too busy aiming off in the wrong direction. Giving a whole new meaning to keeping his eye on things.
For all intents and purposes, Den looked akin to an eager toddle just given a sweet treat. Practically bouncing on the heels of his feet while Molly was the direct opposite. She was clearly perturbed and well, barely managed to say ok before Den was all mouth and spittle flying, “Seems that there’s been some bloodshed recently and well… picking of them there womenfolk that meet a very specific look. Yah know, the pretty sort that made that old bitter sow of an Imperial Queen do things.”
There was a silence then. Hector looking strangely thoughtful but eventually, “What the hell is he going on about now, Molly, clear it up would yah?”
Again, she seemed to be inching closer to making Den’s lights ring. Settling down the tankard with a dull thud as hands balled onto her hips. “Women have been slaughtered like mad recently. And no small pickings either. All striking apparently similar appearances to the one that had been in the Imperial Court however long ago it was now.” Her gaze was almost sympathetic then at him. He hadn’t made an effort to hide who he was or even bothered to try. He was known for a multitude of reasons after all, so it was only natural that people didn’t have much in the way of liking towards him. Hector had only vouched for him because well… he didn’t know. It never crossed his mind to ask, but Molly seemed to be genuine regardless and now, he felt as if his chest was in that odd vice grip once more. Just this… wasn’t making him double over.
The room was still quiet even as Molly attempted to clarify the rumours they’d been told. Only the sound of deep gulps from Hector seemed to indicate any life at all. “Seems like there’s someone out there trying to draw attention then.” The man turned somewhat to look at him, “You getting this, boy?”
“Unfortunately.” He didn’t have to guess. Honestly he was surprised it had taken this long, if he was going to be factual. Just now it meant something else entirely. That the Imperial Queen wasn’t intending on dealing with him first, but Araminta. With the suggestion that it was a trail of blood and bodies, he knew well enough that meant the very same monster that he had come here in hopes of slaying. “Would it be ready?” Asking instead.
“Possibly. But you’re really going to go back out there knowing that its probably a trap. This is your mother after all.” Hector made that terse squint at him in the same way that he did when he was trying to read something too far away. “She’ll get what she wants.”
“Hmm. Maybe.”
The clerk herself seemed bothered by the lack of excitement here. “Now hold on a moment, don’t you think this is a bit reckless? Theon, sure you might be the Imperial Prince but surely there has got to be a better way about this.” Of course no one was offering up ideas for this.
Nor was he attempting to make sense of any reason either. “The sixth trial… where is it to be?” Looking thoughtfully to the group that had collected. Minus Den, the man had already waddled away to go off to the nearby table to squat underneath it. Unclear if he was drunk or potentially doing something he shouldn’t be doing.
“Let’s just get that fine elixir we’ve been putting together before you go off playing stupid hero, boy. Molly, keep my seat unoccupied hmm.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” She bid with no one replying. Simply the older man slipped off the stool with a stuttering step that turned into a crooking finger. Indicating they were to do as he said, “Theon, you can’t be this crazy!”
“Thank you for the hospitality.” Bowing to her in a means of polite acknowledgement, he wasn’t about to waste time lagging behind Hector.
And hearing the obvious grumbles to the fact this was happening at all.
A blood curdling scream is what brought Araminta back to the waking world.
Groggy and with her head spinning, she felt very much as if she’d been drinking too much mulled wine, only without that light jolly feeling. Instead, her body felt so heavy as if it were being weighted down with rocks. That turned out to be not so far from the truth as she attempted to shift and move. Finding that cold iron had her wrists clamped down at her sides against hard stone and her ankles the same. Trying to sit up was met with the resistance of a leather strap across her chest to keep her from getting far. Much to her growing alarm, the princess didn’t have any clothes beyond the thin grey cotton romper that was her undergarments. Making that rough touch of granite stone grind into her skin with the harder she tried to squirm and pull against the restraints.
A gurgling sound nearby had her tilting her head, blink bleary eyes until her vision managed to come into focus. A blurry dark form moving about another, slowing coming into it’s shape of that terrible beady eyed man poking into… something. As it finally came into full focus she realized with growing horror it was a man, strung up on a beam of wood. The entire front side of his chest had been flayed open with muscle and sinew spread outwards like a butterfly and pinned, revealing the bone and organs underneath.
Araminta made a soft strangled sound turning her head quickly away, finding no solace in the other direction. The chamber appeared to be large, murky… Torches were along the walls, but they gave precious little light. Truthfully, it made the darkened stone walls covered in grim and stains and reddish moss look all the more nightmarish. Chains and strange utensils hung on hooks… Body parts and people hung on hooks…! A butcher shop’s selection of meat and cleavers!
She had to get out. She had to get out of here.
Yet it seemed she’d drawn the attention of her hairless companion, who seemed overjoyed to find her awake at last. Licking blood off his fingers as he approached the stone slab she was so uncomfortably laid upon.
“Welcome to Ichor’s Keep, Princess,” exclaimed Gusteau with, well… gusto! Running his blood covered hand over the black ink scar that’d been left behind from the healing of her wound, causing her to jolt and attempt to jerk away. It made her skin crawl. What a horribly apt name for such a place. “Where is the Imperial Prince?”
Araminta didn’t answer. Swallowing hard with her mouth clamped shut, wincing at the pain from the bruises on her neck. It’s not as if she knew the answer anyway. There was a soft shiiink of metal, the very sound making her shiver and her heart to start thundering in her chest. She did not have to wait long to see what it was, as Gusteau proudly made sure to show it to her – a long thick nail of some sort. Just as rusty as the armor he wore. He placed his bloodied hand hard against her clavicle to hold her still, keeping the sharp looking thing clenched in his other fist.
“Where is the Imperial Prince,” he stated again, more forcefully this time, and with it began to press the nail into her shoulder. Somehow knowing just where to stab in where it wouldn’t damage muscle or bone. But it hurt, hurt so much that she screamed and when she did he twisted it a little to make it hurt all the more.
“I don’t– I don’t know!!” she cried. He yanked it out so fast a spray of blood came with it.
“It doesn’t matter,” he answered, grinning from ear to ear. Moving that hand from her chest to pat her cheek, none too softly. “He’ll eventually find my message and know where to come.”
“He- He won’t.” Araminta managed to choke out with a gasping cry. “He doesn’t… travel with me… anymore.”
Gusteau merely laughed. “Then we have all the time in the world. That scar of yours – you’re good little girl with pain, aren’t you? We’ll see how long you last and when I’m done, I will hunt him down with a weapon made of princess bone and my belly full of princess meat.”
It was a war of frenzied thoughts in those terrifying moments. Of wishing to be already dead as the horror of such things was too much to bear. Of thinking she should live and suffer for as long as she could withstand, as doing so meant this monster of a man would not leave and go seeking Theon.
Araminta did not yet get to decide her choice when a sudden white hot pain had her screaming and fainting dead away.
It has been a dangerous luxury to afford, he knew. But at the same time he wasn’t about to go recklessly after the blood trail with limited protection. Having to stop and return to that of the hut that Araminta had started to make into her little nest, to choose to change that of protective attire. Switching out that of leather armour for the more pronounced and defensive plate. Knowing that if it was in fact Gusteau that had left a bloody streak among the land, then going in foolishly was going to be just that very thing. Incredibly foolish.
While Hector hadn’t been too enthused about the idea of him actually responding to these little rumours, he wasn’t overly surprised either. Seemingly identifying that in their short time together, the prince himself was hardly the fanged beast that many made him sound to be. Certainly he had teeth if he needed too but they weren’t bared very often. More of a tempered being that simply had an obvious amount of missing links that people generally possessed as they grew and matured.
Regardless, Hector had given him the elixir has he called it. A entirely transparent oil like substance that was without smell. It simply had a bit of a greasy look to it when it was drying but after, it was as if nothing had ever been there. It came with a bunch of warnings that funnily enough, he knew plenty well. Not about to just accidentally put it onto the weapon of his choice then suddenly start licking his fingers or putting it near his face! And being selective to what particular weapon he was going to slick a coat onto. The jaunt back here and the movement towards the sixth trial –much to Hector’s chargin- he had decided which of the weapons he carried would be the one that had the poison on it.
The unfortunate part of him being able to travel quickly –after he had cat napped enough and seemed to have gotten enough of a meal from his own culinary creation- it meant he arrived on a scene in a petite little village that was abundantly clear that this was unfortunate where he was supposed to be. There was a terrified aura about the place and it had everything to do with the body that was placed like a damn war sacrifice within the centre of the village. Hard to miss and that was the intention. There was no other soul about that he could clearly see but the feeling of eyes alone was enough to suggest that there were people and they were not about to come flitting out into public because of what terrible thing had been placed in their once comfortable lives.
The only positive here was he didn’t have a weak stomach to vile actions such as this. Approaching the dangling woman and considered the arrangement of clothing. Armor. Everything was Araminta’s save for the woman herself. How did he know, well… he didn’t actually know. Something in his gut felt terrible certainly but it wasn’t wringing in the same way it did at times when he was present with the princess. It made not a lick of sense but that wasn’t exactly important right now was it.
Right now, it seemed like there was a mess for him to clean up and maybe if the villagers were willing to peek, they could help the woman be properly buried and he could take the items back that were Araminta’s. Not the clothing and not the armor for it was soiled and deeming to the passed on to have herself bared so poorly, but the weapons and bag were vital to come with him.
For now, he had to get this one down from her dangle.
At first the people of the village were wary of the Imperial Prince, uncertain of his intentions and if he’d been in cooperation with the sinister man that had mutilated and hung their beloved inn tavern keeper. With such a reputation as his, even if one might have a burning desire of vengeance against anyone associated with the Queen, there was too much fear and sorrow to bring them to leap out and attack him.
Many watchful eyes spied at him from a distance, however, paying focused attention as Theon took great care in cutting down the woman and seemingly doing so with respect for her body. Something none had expected from the Imperial Prince. Prompting a few of the elders – who were old enough to not give a fuck about the risk to their life – to come out and aid in gathering up the woman’s body and giving her the proper rest she deserved.
None were brave enough to speak with Theon directly beyond a few short words, but there was certainly a shift that had begun. An air of bitter anger and despair, not just in this village but now in many across all of the twelve kingdoms. Up until now the Imperial Queen’s focus of violence had always been centered on those in power – royal families and nobilities. Warrior clans and those she deemed as threats or someone to conquer. Consequences of such would trickle down for certain… but never directly like this. Where innocent people were being murdered left and right even in the smallest of villages. All because of one simple harmless girl came seeking help and asked the wrong person for it.
Before Theon left he was approached by Nan’s grieving husband. He never spoke a word, merely gave Theon a silver locket that surely must’ve belonged to his wife, and walked away without explanation. It could have been a meager thank you for getting her down and free of the awful spell that prevented them from retrieving her themselves. But it was much more likely meant as a physical reminder of her death and the cruelties his mother was inflicting on the kingdoms. A hope that the Imperial Prince was truly someone different.
Something had changed in the twelve kingdoms. And it was changing fast.
Ichor’s Keep or The Farm as it was often referred to was once an old castle keep meant to train knights and warriors. Back then it had a more pleasant name, maintained by a lord long gone that no one now could remember. Now, it was the home of Gusteau and his wretched activities. A prison for people the Imperial Queen didn’t want to kill outright, but wanted to have suffer for as long as possible. Something Gusteau took such a great pleasure in… and was terrifically good at.
Gusteau found the Princess Araminta to be as tenacious and resilient as rumored and she quickly became his daily obsession. Though her tolerance for pain was impressive, the mind in that pretty little head of hers was moreso. He’d originally tossed her into a dungeon cell when she was no longer responsive, only for the girl to somehow figure out how to dislodge the iron gated door by it’s hinges with just an old piece of femur and slick grime. The chase through the dungeons of Ichor’s Keep had been a thrilling run, sicing his beloved beastly dogs on her until she could no longer find a place to jump, climb or hide. Letting them have their fun of a good chomp and shake before he dragged her back and put her in chains. Almost hoping she’d find a way free of those too for another round of hunting.
The girl had a such feral instinct to live that it was thrilling! If he could resist carving up her skin too much or cleaving off limbs, she might even last for years. That might delay his hunt for the Imperial Prince, but his Queen could easily dispatch the little bastard whenever she pleased. She would forgive him this indulgence in his favorite new body of meat, as Gusteau had never once failed her. He was confident too that she’d take delighted pleasure in knowing the girl that had caused her so much recent trouble was suffering at his hands.
What a wonderful day this was, dragging the princess across the bloodstained stone and deliberately dumping near some of his precious tools just for the thrill of seeing if she tried to get feisty as he debated what fun means of torment he could inflict today. He did hope she would. The struggle made it so much better for his entertainment.
There had been no expectation on his mind that anyone ought to come and assist. This had only happened because of circumstances that were easily enough guessed but no less morbid. It wasn’t their fault that someone from their village had been decidedly used as a piece of disgusting bait. Realizing that once the poor woman had been recovered from where she hung, between the marring of her flesh, she had similarities to Araminta. Which he supposed was the reason she had been selected at all. Not perfect mind you but too close not to. Much to his own disgust, he knew Gusteau calling card.
He’d heard enough rumours about the farm and had known there were some people he had been enlisted to capture for the Imperial Queen, had gone there. It wasn’t anything mild, that much he knew. It had a reputation strong enough that a mere muttering of it was typically enough to cow any zesty tongue.
While he could feel remorse for all that had occurred, he wasn’t sure on how all of it could change. Besides the most direct meaning of it being that the Imperial Queen needed to be removed from her seat of power. Those who were loyal to her, chained and or executed for their various deeds –that may include him, he knew- but there was no clear way to him that this could be achieved. While the woman that had birthed him was typically the one who sent others to do her dirty work, she was no slouch. More than most he was aware of this.
Just the means of how she did most of anything herself was still a mystery to him.
Such thoughts allowed him to work while the presence of others seemed to come out from their selected abodes. Earning a look from himself but little else. It was not unknown to him that his reputation was rife with nothing good. Warranting caution certainly, so there was no grudge to be held that there were those naturally wary of him. It was a good mentality to have but he did appreciate the effort those did give in turn. Offering a humble bit of gratitude whilst the means of digging a proper burial site had been sought and asked for. Allowing himself to do that much after the woman had been recovered from her grotesque end.
So imagine his surprise after it all that a fellow that looked particular dour approached him. Saying nothing but giving a locket that was feminine in suggestion and seemed to be clearly indicating what its purpose was. At least to whom it had belonged too.
He didn’t think himself to be easily swayed by a lot but that one did lean on his chest. Yes, he was aware of how this world under the rule of a woman that only wanted peons and corpses, worked. The pain others likely were suffering were monumental and all the more reason that it was clear where he had to go next. Much to his own lack of desire. If Araminta had been here and another suffered as a sign of accomplishment, then the reality was his next location was exactly the sort of place that would be on Gusteau advantage. But that didn’t much matter, did it. Not when Araminta wasn’t here when it was close to the trial.
Indicating where he was to go next and that would be the ugly nature of it all. The only thing he could do now was tuck the silver locket neatly and carefully away to be kept safe, and to oil down the weapon he had decided would be best to work with the new poison that he had to hope would work.
He’d be at the Farm soon enough… he just had to hope that Gusteau wasn’t waiting with Araminta’s head as a crown on his own!
Araminta was so very very tired. Physically and mentally with no relief in sight. In some darker moments the princess thought that maybe she deserved this. For fleeing her kingdom when they needed her most. For not bending to the Imperial Queen’s offer for an easy solution. For how she’d trapped Theon within her quest. And now for the blood of all those poor innocent women killed in Gusteau’s search for her.
He enjoyed bragging about. Telling her in great detail what he did to each one, which techniques he’d love to apply to her. There was near a hundred at least, including Nan whom she’d met. That woman’s family were probably devastated beyond belief and cursing Araminta’s very existence. Maybe what she should’ve done was laid down and died, and none of this suffering would’ve happened to anyone.
Except there was that little spark inside her, burning bright and furious. Clinging to the very notion that this wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Even if Araminta hadn’t existed at all, there would still have been Gusteau dragging people into this awful dungeon of despair, and the wicked Imperial Queen whose reign of misery had spanned for decades across multiple kingdoms. Demons whose influence she was somehow starting to recognize in places. Starting to recognize here.
As grim as it was, some good had seemed to come from suffering through a demon’s poison for so long. Araminta wasn’t sure how she knew, but this terrible man’s armor wasn’t simply made of pounded metal. There was something distinctly demonic about it that sent shivers down her spine. Though he too made her cringe and shudder in a different way and sometimes she wondered if he’d been born right out of that realm himself.
Gusteau was currently organizing his tools of torture, chattering away as he cleaned and prepared them, though she wasn’t listening. Araminta had realized quickly that the more she reacted and fought, the more he liked it, loved it in a way that churned her stomach. She’d tried to fight him one or twice – she’d lost track – with bone and stone, but he was always so much faster and stronger that it was futile for her to attempt it again. Now he’d even resulted in attempting to goad her into it, Araminta could tell. As she sat there on the cold ground covered in her own blood, she could spy the bits of rusted metal and jagged stone that were easily in her reach. But she knew if she grabbed one he’d snatch her by the hair and use that very same weapon on her instead. Cackling in that awful grizzled way he did that always chilled her to the bone.
How she envied Theon’s ability to retreat inside himself and so wished she could do it now. Instead of the way her mind was always whirling and twirling back and forth between predicting what her captor’s next few actions would be (which was a torture all in itself, as she had no limit of imagination) and a fruitless plotting of how to escape. There wasn’t an escape and hope was just as much a torment as everything else. Hope in a hopeless place was presently the worst thing she could do to herself.
The demon of a man had finally chosen his instrument in the form of fire stoked iron, the tip glowing almost white hot and crackling from the heat. With that wide, horrifying grin he crouched low next to her, waving it a few times in her face to incite the reaction he wanted. And despite trying her hardest not to, she still flinched and shirked back. Earning that fisted grip in her hair and her head jerked back.
“Lucky, lucky girl. I could boil your eyes right in their sockets. But then you wouldn’t get to witness my favorite hobbies. Where then? Do you want to choose? Now, now, this silent treatment can’t last forever…”
Araminta almost wished he’d jam it right into her ears so she’d never have to hear him again!
Armour was adjusted and cloak was purposefully removed and stashed elsewhere. Alongside all of Araminta’s re-collected items. Taking anything he didn’t need with the due care of tucking it all away so it could be salvaged later. There was next to no sense in going into the keep with an overabundance of items. Such things were only going to ensure that he was slowed down and/or distracted by their very existence.
And personally, he wanted to keep all of Araminta’s things safe. Assuring that they were well out of sight, he had only come in with this selection of items. The sword, a pair small daggers, bow and quiver. Minimal but useful. As he didn’t bring either the belt of collected variety of items that had been used in various situations. Once more, the less he had, the better. Plus he wasn’t sure exactly what could be taken and used against him.
The place itself as he certainly didn’t give himself a chance to pry at it with his eyes, smelt about as good as a moldy butcher shop. Stale and fresh blood coating the very maw of the entrance, with a sporting of many other scents that required no description. Perhaps the only thing going well in his favour was the lack of horror that registered on his features to the very inside of the farm. The people that were there and the obvious reason why it was a torture pit. It was a living heaven for anyone who was completely deranged within their own skull. Perfect for the man that the Imperial Queen allowed to commit such atrocities.
It worked for him. This was unfortunately familiar enough that had he been someone else, he likely would have paused. Vomited, perhaps screamed in a glorious horror before weeping uncontrollably. It was certainly beyond his imagination, that was true but it was no time to start showing that it bothered him. There was a purpose to being here and by all means, such a thing was no secret.
Moving with obvious intention, the place wasn’t particularly seemingly complicated to move through. As an old castle, there was similarities to other places built similar. And if he had anything to guess, this place was likely mostly used towards the dungeon portion. Where the layout would be a little more open and allowed for devices of torture and pain to be held without needing to compete with space.
Nor did he make any real attempt to keep quiet either. Merely the effort of pulling bow with an arrow to be loosely nocked, he moved along the way to find what noises of anything he could. Bypassing those where were seemingly alive or acted like it for well…
The voice carried some and it was more than enough for him to ready that arrow with a lack of pausing when Gusteau seemed to be one who liked to monologue. Actually a little surprising but hardly a reason to stay put to listen. Tensing the bowstring to allow the arrow to fly with aim at that of the ghastly freak.
That son of a bitch had spun around and caught it. Standing swiftly with a widening, deranged grin on his face and proving without a shadow of doubt that there was surely something more to him that just human abilities and why he was the Queen’s most notorious and undefeated right hand.
“There you are…” he grunted, snapping the arrow in his palm and dropping it to the ground. Fearless and confident in a way that was truly intimidating, as it wasn’t born in arrogance. It was simply fact.
Araminta was so certain she was hallucinating from pain and hunger and blood loss, yet even still she was a quick thinker. Using chain bound hands to snatch at one of those teasing little weapons he’d laid about in hopes she’d struggle, to take a swing with all her might for the jointed spot of his armor at the knee.
Gusteau proved again to be faster. Stepping out of the way without even having to drop his gaze from Theon, letting her momentum send her on her stomach to the ground and stomping and armored foot on her back. He raised up that fire hot iron poker ready to ram it right down into her skull. As much as he loved his new favorite toy, Gusteau also knew the value of leverage. Confident too that Theon knew he wouldn’t hesitate to spread this girl’s brain matter across the stone floor in an instant.
“Test me, boy,” he stated simply. For his monologues were meant for torture, but now it was time for a new hunt.
While he never knew if Gusteau was human or not, there was always hints. What he could be was never overly clear and admittedly, he had never sought to learn either. There had never been a reason to when he worked without complaint or rebellion under the Queen. However knowing that the man wasn’t all that he may have appeared to be was of no favour. It only affirmed the knowledge that this was likely to end with a lot of blood splatter and death that was probably going to be both him and Araminta.
That last bit bothered him severely. Add on that he could glimpse at her from the side after the man effortlessly twirled to catch and break the arrow without much care. On par for swatting aside a bothersome surely.
Truly he didn’t know how this was going to come down into his favour, but so long as he could get Gusteau to bleed a little, something ought to work. Or that might be entirely hopeless and he was feeding nonsense to himself by the handful. Meeting the man’s ugly features without a wince or bother, simply taking him in with a almost dull consideration. Just that Araminta was still proving even after their limited time apart, that she was not one to settle for anything. Grabbing something with an attempt to lunge after the man and finding herself shortly under foot.
For a heavy foot to crunch down and he felt his jaw twitch at that. Watching as the man brought around the iron poker with intent to make use of it. “If you wanted me to come here, then why bother doing all this if you are going to just waste it?” He asked surprisingly calm though he certainly felt the racing of heart to say otherwise. “I know you are skilled, I just did not think you so wasteful with what you caught.” Tilting his head some to express he was actually serious in this vocal contemplation, surely Gusteau knew that he personally wasn’t the one of high emotions.
But he wasn’t challenging that threat either in a physical sense. Not about to gamble on that, especially when he had no idea what to do.
That was Theon! That was actually Theon!
This new realization came with a flurry of mixed emotions as nothing could will her to try harder, to fight harder than knowing Theon was there. …yet too she knew this was a trap and Theon being there was also a very, very bad thing. After days alone with Gusteau, this man was unshakable. There would be no appealing to his ego or shaking his confidence. He had no fears or sense of self preservation – he was single-minded and focused on his task. And his task was murder, of which he did joyfully.
A soft sound slipped out of her in an attempt to just be able to breathe, finding precious little air could fill her lungs when Gusteau seemed to press that armor boot down even harder in taunting response to Theon’s statement. Still, that sliver of a fighting chance was there renewed. Araminta trusted that Theon was so much more capable than he realized. He could do anything and all she had to do was play her part in finding the right moment to help him succeed.
So Araminta was the damsel, going limp with a pained squeak after another twist of his foot. She’d fainted for real enough times that it wouldn’t be strange at all. Leaving Gusteau to forget all about her and keep himself focused on Theon. A plot that gave her a shaking twinge of terror to leave him so exposed, but if there was a chance to surprise this demon of a man…
“I can find another,” answered Gusteau coldly. Dropping that hot poker low enough that it singed some of Araminta’s hair. “Can you?”
The girl had appeared to have fainted, not that he was remotely concerned about her. He wasn’t much concerned about Theon either, but the Queen’s disobedient pup was more of the wildcard here. Fully confident that he would be nothing in a direct fight, but with that fae blood and a taste of freedom one couldn’t discount him completely. The girl remained his greatest leverage to control the little bastard and he wasn’t about to step off her until he was forced.
“You are at an impasse that you will not win. If you want her to live…” Gusteau gestured towards his table of horrors where a pair of pure iron wrist shackles lay. Without his fae magic, the Imperial Prince would be as useless as a newborn kitten.
The question was peculiar but it landed well enough. Considering Araminta –feeling the sense of impending dread and doom that lingered and knew there was little he could say that would actually have her released. By no means was he the one that could talk circles around someone and he wasn’t about to start trying only to become a nonsensical mess. She needed to leave somehow but that was clearly not an easy thing to figure out. Especially as it looked like she may have fainted.
“No.” Theon gave the answer honestly. There was no other that could be able to replace Araminta. She was for all purposes, irreplaceable. A thought that had never crossed his mind and only aided to that wallowing sense of misfortune that had him knowing there was no winning in this.
Even the plan with the poison was worthless.
“You are not one of your word.” Theon did point out after Gusteau said about Araminta living. “If you were, she would be removed immediately. However, I know you. You do not let go of what you enjoy torturing.” Still, he moved forward. “But if you wish for something new, then so be it.” Sure it would be unpleasant, easily some of the worst things he had ever experienced before but there was no way to win, as Gusteau stated.
Striding up to that of the table as gestured to, he moved to remove the quiver and bow. Letting it down to the floor and then moved to remove sword and daggers from their sheathes. Making an offering of them outwards to Gusteau then, “Enjoy.” Indicating he was welcome to use them as the items for torture. One of them was the one that had the poison on them after all.
A smug expression graced Gusteau’s features at Theon’s answer and somehow that made him look all the more grotesquely menacing. Waiting with a swish swish of that hot poker at Araminta’s head and watching as Theon moved over to the table to remove his weaponry.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he tut-tutting the offering. “Set them on the table and put on the shackles.”
Gusteau was not so foolish as to walk away from his leverage just for a shiny bit of beautiful metal. The wily prince was no fool either or he’d not have survived to live this long. Betting his hand that he’d use that fae trickery of his to dash for the girl and vanished off the way those fuckers liked to do. After all, Gusteau himself had his own means of disappearing into shadow as a means of fast travel and moving unseen. Theon needed to be capped at the knees.
To make sure the prince got the point, Gusteau pressed the tip of that fiery poker into the princess’ shoulder, gleefully grinning and boldly daring the prince to test his luck.
Araminta made a pained mrrphing sound, even an unconscious soul would do so at the singing burn of flesh! Fighting against the fear and pain to keep her eyes squeezed shut, even through the tears so she could remain the possum playing dead. Somehow against all odds grateful again that she’d already known such pains and had the experience of enduring through them.
Though terribly afraid that this was going to cause Theon to lose all hope and fall into that state of panic as there was yet no way for her to tell him to hold on.
Either Gusteau knew something he didn’t or the man didn’t realize that he had no idea how to use his fae abilities outside the travel form. Regardless, it seemed there was nothing to be done and this was just the means of accepting the end of it all. Akin to the Imperial Queen, talking was useless.
Especially since he was doing that thing again at proving that Araminta should have been better outside of his company, only that she hadn’t asked for this and was brought in. Actually this might have been better to make him suffer for proving to be incredibly feeble and unable to come up with any plan that would have done something. She was the tactical mind after all, he was simply the dunce with a cone on his head.
Setting down the items seeing as Gusteau wasn’t about to do anything besides hurt the girl, he gave up the hope of even being able to do anything. There was no sense in attempting to lash out, he had Araminta by the curve of his grasp. And knowing this man, he would kill her long before he did anything.
With weapons set down, he picked up the iron and put it to use. Clasping shackles up and on with a look away.
As soon as those shackles were on, Gusteau tossed down the fire poker and stepped off Araminta. Closing the distance between himself and Theon with a few long strides only to kick up a foot and bash him right in the chest with enough force to knock him to the ground.
“Worthless coward,” he literally spat down at the prince. “Her Grace should’ve squeezed your pathetic little heart into oblivion the day you were born.”
With no surprise, Gusteau completed his task as he knew he would. Without having to go out and seek the little bastard himself. Even better his means of tormenting his new favorite prize would be doubly good as now he had the pleasure of playing off their fears about each other. Cracking open one would hurt the other and back again.
What a gloriously wonderful day for Gusteau!
“By her Grace and Mercy, the Imperial Queen wishes to deal with you herself. She did not tell me when I should return you…” he alluded, moving over to the table where the weapons lay. Plucking up one at a time to examine with bare hands.
Bare hands was the best way to experience the beauties of cutting into flesh and feeling the blood between your fingers.
“I bet you’d like to see your own blades scar the girl’s pretty face. A year? Two years? Her Grace won’t mind the delay.” Practically preening at this point, Gusteau picked up Theon’s sword first, examining the hilt and then his thumb along the blade to test the sharpness. In slow succession he did this with all of the weapons, testing their grip in his hand. Seeming to not even feel it on the occasions when he’d pierce his own skin, masochistic in nature. Blood spilling was divine – even his own.
Araminta peeked one eye open, then other. The monster’s back was turned, too busy fawning over new means of torture and of taunting Theon to care about her. At least for the moment. Quiet as a mouse she shifted, trying her best not to let the chains around her wrists do any rattling. Not easy. She was stiff and her shoulder burned. The means of getting to her knees without making a sound was agonizingly slow.
He’d forgotten she still had that weapon in her reach, though. Perhaps he was too arrogant after all. It wasn’t very long or sharp… likely on purpose so he could make such painful cuts. But it was small enough for her to hide in her hands and Araminta was already pondering the best ways she could use it.
As well as trying to get Theon to look her way to show him what she had, hoping it would bolster his courage and remind him they could do impossible things. The iron shackles might’ve curbed him as a fae, but he was more than that. He was also a mage. He was Theon and he could do anything!
It was swift and brutal and dropped him immediately to the ground. A rushing burst of fleeing oxygen bursting out and the sensation of iron against skin burned. A thing that fae abhorred after all and while he was only half, it still was of no pleasant sensation. Merely that his years of being able to hide mentally away was prime now. This was the sort of things he could recall aptly. Siblings all fighting one another for the favour of being the last standing. How he ended up being the one, even that he didn’t know. Something he had in common with that of the brood mare that was the Imperial Queen.
Just for Gusteau, if he was wanting plaintive cries and spittle laced with curses, he wouldn’t. Simply casting gaze aside as knees rested on the cold and bloody floor. Not sure what the hell the comment of squeezing his pathetic little heart meant. Especially on the day he had been graciously evicted from that the demonic sow’s nether’s.
The pain of trying to pull breath back was certainly enough to keep him from overly looking around. Actively avoiding looking at Araminta as that was probably the one part of his entire being that would only respond. Knowing that all of this could have just been avoided… how? Well it was just hopefully nonsense that wanted to believe in such things. Slowly adjusting sights upwards to where the maniac seemed to be quite gleeful. Not remotely surprised that the Imperial Queen wanted to make work of him herself. It might be one of the few times she would do something by her own hands. And something in that made him strangely speak out in a sense of unusual character. “What luxury… I h-have then.” Theon shook his head, “Seems … s-she can d… do something herself. Impressive.” Flippant in the mentioning, sights glinted at Gusteau a second.
Just that… he said own blades. His blades to harm Araminta, well now… that was literally a double edged sword, wasn’t it. Urging him to lift his chin up some further, “You think… you think you withstand killing m-me that long? You give…y-yourself too much credit.” Theon made a overall flick of his head sideways to gesture, “A p-place like this… don’t lie to y-yourself braggart. You w… won’t last a week.” Taunting him. Suggesting that no matter how loyal Gusteau was, his obvious love for blood and gore was more than his ability to obey. And yet, the man was touching the weapons. Feeling them. Pricking himself with them and it was truly a moment that he was grateful he lacked the emotional response to grin.
Instead, raising chin further with a few correction coughs, still actively avoiding looking at Araminta –perhaps a good thing cause he probably wouldn’t be subtle about it- “F… face it Gusteau… you’re not even half as good as I am in a margin of th… the stuff you do. If you were… why did her Imperial Majesty send me if you could do it?” A low huff exited him, “You talk too much… if you’re going to threaten me with hurting her… you should probably shut your damn mouth already.” Seemingly he was trying to keep Gusteau’s attention on him. To goad him into annoyance, to prolong a moment. He wasn’t sure if the poison would work but at least it had gotten onto his hands, he had cut himself. Just give him that… something that would even just temporarily bring him down. So Araminta could get the hell out of here when she awoke.
Stubborn, stubborn, stubborn…!
All he had to do was look at her, that was all she needed! Yet he wouldn’t, no doubt because his heart was soft and gentle and likely breaking. Choosing to blame himself for all of this even though none of it was even remotely close to his fault.
What alarmed her though was his sudden boldness in speaking out. Theon was not a man of many words – well, he spoke with her, but even she knew that was different. He didn’t taunt, he acted, so this means of him suddenly being wordy filled her with a sudden sense of alarm. Theon couldn’t possibly be so foolish to think that a little taunting would keep Gusteau away from her for long, which had her terrified that he’d fallen so deep into his panic that he was practically suicidal!
No. No he wouldn’t do that to her. He promised he wouldn’t die before she did, and it might’ve been a stupid selfish thing of her to demand of him, but Araminta knew deep in her heart he’d not abandon her alone in this place if he could help it.
So there was a plot afoot and that was all Araminta needed to know to click an idea in place.
“My ego doesn’t give a shit about your sad little pleas, boy,” laughed Gusteau. Truly to him they meant nothing but the confirmation that the man was terrified and doing everything in his power to gain some sort of control of the situation. “I obey my queen without my heart in her hands. I’ll be enjoying that girl’s screams for years long after Her Grace has put you back in her belly.”
It was taking everything Araminta had in her tiny body to get one foot flat on the ground, and then a little more to lift herself up on her feet. The conversation was appalling, and she couldn’t listen too deeply lest she lose her nerve. Every bruised and pierced muscle in her was screaming protest as she quietly, softly, took tiny step by step to inch herself closer. Raising her chain bound hands up over her head as delicately as she could in the process, weapon clasped between them both. It wasn’t going to kill him, but if she struck in just the right spot that might be enough…
One step, three steps, almost right there… then she stumbled and the chains around his wrist rattled. Araminta froze like a deer in a meadow, not that it did her any good. Gusteau reacted so quick there was no time for her to react – he’d struck her hard against the ribs, sending her collapsing to the floor in a gasping heap.
The man erupted into hysterical deranged laughter! Having the absolute time of his life with their pitiful attempts at besting him. Full of pure glee that this girl still had such much fight in her. Already planning all of the glorious ways he was going to break her down, right in front of the prince’s eyes. As her Grace wished, he’d see the error in defying the Queen and have to watch the one he’d defied her for bleed from every limb she had.
With one of Theon’s daggers in hand he he reached forward to snatch her up off the ground – only that he jerked to a stop with a strange sort of guttural sound. Choking almost as his beady black eyes grew wide and wild. Fighting and struggling against some invisible thing to get his limbs to move. Snarling all of a sudden in a way that was so brutally vicious that Araminta had not ever seen from him, that it was even more frightening than his terrible callous laughter!
This would have been a moment he may have thought of smirking. Hearing the man laugh and yet he was still talking. “Sure.” Theon shrugged somewhat as if Gusteau’s assurance that he was so loyal to the queen was all that mattered. If that was the case, then you’d think he’d be eager to get back to her and sent out for more bloody. The two of them here and now would hardly be enough, hmm. But he said something again about his heart in hands and earned a bit of confusion in that one.
He knew the man as mental but what was this about hearts and hands and belly’s?
Personally he might have encouraged this little rebellious streak had it not been for the sound of rattling and attention pivoting so swiftly that in a manner of seconds, he was on his feet. Lunging forward and being held back by the iron shackles, hearing the sound of Araminta gasping back as she had been struck so violently. Growling in his throat and trying to determine what the hell he could do. The iron bit and chewed and burned and yet it wasn’t enough to distract him entirely. Wishing he could think up some clever insult but nothing came. Merely glaring and debating momentarily what he could do. The fae blood in him wasn’t responding with the iron so there was no way he could just poof shift and break free. The ability was like a distant dream. So far out of reach that there was little he could do.
But the second this man grabbed a dagger, the thrash was on. “Don’t touch her!” A bursting snarl that was not going to do a whole lot at this moment. “You sick son of a bitch.” Baring teeth like some feral monster, “I swear to whatever pitiful blackened hell lord you honour and that open legged whore’s fucking last milk tooth, if you hurt her any more I will make you squeal like a sodomized pig!” Theon jerked on the shackles again and shifted a palm up with the gathering of magic that was at least able to come forward. Only good thing thus far his mother apparently gave him.
Just… Gusteau stopped so suddenly that the fire that lit in his chest, paused. Blinking one moment and then barking a second next. “Ara come here!” Theon bellowed, was the poison doing something? Anything, it didn’t matter! As long as it did something, as he tugged hard repeatedly on the shackles. Either he was going to break his own damn wrists or he was going to pull the damnable chains off their linked point.
Araminta was still choking for breath nearly petrified on the floor at the sight of Gusteau now beginning to froth at the mouth in his attempt to force his body to move. His eyes becoming bloodshot red around the beady black. None of Theon’s curses were registering, though they surely would’ve burned and scandalized her ears if she had. Only the shortened form of her name had her jolting back to his attention, finally making her scrabble up off the cold stone.
She hesitated a split second before she reached and snatched a ring of jangling keys off the belt of Gusteau, so afraid he was going to win his battle from the paralyzing effect he seemed to be under. Stumbling over to Theon, still trying to wheeze and heave for any sort of oxygen as she grabbed one of his wrists to free his hand and then the other.
There were a lot of things she wanted to say, but she couldn’t quite get anything out with her struggle to breath. Instead throwing those shackles well away so he could do what he needed without being weakened by the evil things!
Gusteau was doing everything within his power to fight the toxins within his blood. Unclear if it was going to kill him or not but it had now brought him down to one knee from the efforts of it. His hand gripping that dagger tight and with the amount of rage pouring out of him in the form of voracious growling, it wasn’t going to be torment he inflicted on them when he caught them, it would be a fast and simple slaughter.
There was a lot happening all the sudden and it was in ways that likely neither of them could have ever guessed. Though he was hardly about to stay idle a second more when finally Araminta gathered her clever wits to come scurrying over to him. Snatching quickly the keys that were hanging at the belt side of the man now seemingly too busy having a realizing moment that things were no longer entirely in his hands. Not to say that it wouldn’t change a moments notice but that was hardly something they ought to stress about. They needed to take this chance for themselves and he had to applaud once more Araminta’s mind for being able to think critically.
Listening to her wheeze with the effort that it took on her battered form that had just been assaulted so brutally, she was quick at making his hands bend forward so they could be freed from the burning sensation that was the irons. Like a sensation of life came back from having been slumbering too long to the point of pins and needles, his attention moved quickly once he was freed by her dutiful diligence.
Surging forward to not only push Araminta back a few paces to gain ground from the kneeling man, but for him to lunge forward to grab at the sword. It had been in good favour that he selected it as his main weapon to which carried the poison. It almost felt too on the nose but it was the weapon he was most practiced with. Daggers were useful but they were not his practiced item that worked best in his grasp.
Hearing the sound of the man growling was a sure fire sign that this wasn’t time to hesitate.
Taking hold of the hilt, he dropped the fireball that had been gathering to burst upon the floor to catch a gruesome smelling flame. Brandishing the sword using the length of its blade to advantage to keep some distance, but wound up with a means of cutting at the means of face rather than anything that was sporting armour. Even if he caught the man through the skull, so be it!
Something screamed in the back of her mind that now was the time to run just as fast as she could out of that terrible dungeon and flee this place as quick as her feet could carry her. Except those pleas didn’t reach her feet to propelled her to flight, instead at Theon’s beckoning she kept backing up until she hit the bloodied wall, well and good out of the way but refusing to leave Theon here alone with such a monster. Ready to jump in at an instant with more than enough ready weapons all over the cursed chamber should she need another.
The fireball erupted into a blaze of burning chaos, bathing Gusteau in a burning circle of flames. Casting a reddish hue onto his pitch black armor that draw up all sorts of hellish images. As if he had truly crawled up out of the bowels of hell and only now the truth of him was coming out for the world to see.
No mortal man could fight the toxin the way he was either, still full on frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog. Somehow jerkily bringing himself back up to a standing position– only for Theon’s blade to clean him right into the skull. Not just a slash of skin but notching deep into the bone on the opposite side from his other horrific scar. Almost as if it was meant to meet it’s match like this all along.
Araminta had thrown her forearms up to shield her face, cringing from such a gruesome thing. Never having been one who could stomach it, no matter how brave she could be in the moment.
Proving that he was still something to be feared, somehow Gusteau was still trying to push himself forward to get at Theon. One open opened as wide as it would go, bloodshot and filled pure murderous malice.
There was little reason for him to stop now. As much as it might be in their better judgment to leave, it would only mean this had a chance of coming back at them. It meant dealing with this right now!
If he was about to be surprised by the fact that Gusteau wasn’t so easily dispatched, it didn’t seem to clue in. Rather it only affirmed that this bastard needed to be ended like a bad habit. He just had to hope the fact that this sword was the coated blade, that it would continue to aid slowing this monstrosity down. Raising foot up to repeat the same thing that this being had done to him earlier. Only just using his foot rather than knee to bring up to the man’s chest.
Shoving him backwards whilst still coming forward to pulling the sword out to take another cleave at this. Raising the opposite hand to accumulate that of a ball of shimmering concentrated light intending to overwhelm this bastard to the point that he could maybe get lucky enough to take his entire head from shoulders and do the same damn thing that Gusteau did to others. By cutting him up into pieces!
It was such a grotesque thing that they ought to be counting their blessings that Gusteau did not seem to have abilities outside of his shadow walking and that intense, impossible strength. The fact he had even managed to keep moving at all between the toxin and first blow would have been impressive if it weren’t so horrifying!
In the end, that toxin was Theon’s saving grace, preventing the man born of who knew what demonic inclinations from doing much more than his malice filled snarling. An attempt to get his arm moving to stab at Theon was certainly made, but it was finally sinking into his blood – into his brain direct if the deeps of the initial blow was any hint – that it didn’t reach far enough. Nor fast enough to block that force of light from completely blinding him. Not fast enough to stop the final blow that did finally cut through neck and spine to send his head rolling into the growing flames.
Though there was a brief moment that it seemed like his body was going to keep trying to attack even without his head attached…! Only to soon drop down to it’s knees and slump over into the fire that was eating up the years worth of layers of grease, grim, and gore that covered the dungeon floors.
Araminta hadn’t uncovered her face the entire time, too afraid to peek and find out whether or not it was Theon still standing or if Gusteau had been stronger after all. Even when there was no sound left but the sparks of fire.
It wasn’t pleasant. By any means. The smell alone of burning gore was enough to even start disturbing his own stomach to the idea that they were practically standing in crisping viscera. Cut aside by one being that was beyond cruel. Something else entirely and knowing mentally that even as he pushed forward the assault of brandishing light and poison laden sword, none of this would have even been possible if Hector’s poison didn’t do what it was supposed to. Although it was showing that even as something that had been created with strong efforts, Gusteau was a beast that would hardly be stopped. Showing his strength even with being hacked at. Such a thing was frightening in its own measure but all the more reason to try to stop this from continuing.
Whatever the hell this thing was, it was better dead than alive. How many lives already taken for the sick pleasure of just playing with it all… it needed to end. And it would likely set the Imperial Queen into a rage once she learnt her perfect little loyal follower has managed to fail her. No telling what she might do next.
The effort of raising the glinting dagger was noticed and the means of trying to end this faster was pressed upon. Urging forward that surely it was due to the coursing venom that was being granted into the bloodstream of even this fiend, was their saving grace. Complimented barely by the telling sound of body and head being severed. Although he gave the torso a look –almost expecting it to regrow a head- he took a great deal of effort to shove the sword down into the gaping hole that was the neck of the body. Trying to introduce more of the poison if possible, if any remained into the heap. Leaving it there to fall forward with the body but rounded quickly with a rising stomp to take to crunching head beneath armoured boot. Using the means of bodily weight behind the attack to be sure that the gray matter of brains and bone were squished. Scraping foot across the floor much like one would after squishing a bug beneath; the smell was growing increasingly terrible!
With a huff, he turned. Quickly retrieving sword as he stepped literally onto the body’s back to crudely mimic Gusteau’s malice of putting his foot upon Araminta. Pulling sword partially out, but halfway through pulled the weapon back towards him. Tearing amongst muscle and sinew and bone with a sickening crackle till the armour resisted behind halved by his efforts. Wishing he had holy water actually to damn well throw at the body as an overly cautionary action. It was unclear to him if Gusteau could pull himself together and it was that thought alone that drove him to nearly a gross act. Stopping only because he had introduced potentially the remains of the potent elixir into this body and had to stop himself from reaching into the gaping cavity to reach down and pull whatever organs he could out.
Instead, making an effort to quickly disassemble as much armour from the body, so the means of flames could hopefully eat away at it fully. Knowing that he was pushing his luck with even doing any of this with the fiery presence at all. But he was hardly in the thought process to be wise to such things and intended to do as much damage as he could.
Freeing blade and bothering not with the means of collecting daggers or the bow and quiver. Simply rushing over through the means to shove the weapon he had back into its sheath. A bare glance at Araminta was enough to determine that his general means of asking permission was out the window. Merely reaching out to grasp at her arms and pulled the woman close to sweep other hand under knees. Taking the means of choice from her to sling her into grasp. “Outside… when we are away, I’ll mend what I can. Right now, just stay still and hold tight.” A low mumbling as he didn’t think it was in either of their interest to insist on her walking out of here. Grateful all the more for his former thinking of stashing away the supplies he had brought here. Glad actually that they would be able to retrieve them rather than dying in this god forsaken shit hole.
Araminta was still afraid to open her eyes just yet, but once Theon had her and she heard his voice there was a great deal of relief that flooded over her. If she weren’t riddled with pain she would’ve been able to relax and go limp in his arms. Instead the princess could only focus on short and shallow breaths, as every time she tried to take a deep one there was such a sharp stabbing in her ribs that’d sent her to wheezing all over again.
They were okay. Thank all the gods in the world they were still in one piece!
Only, there were quite a few who were not…
“Mercy…?” she croaked out, on finally opening up her eyes. “Mercy and freedom for those here?”
Araminta was not so foolish to think that they could release all of Gusteau’s prisoners and all would be fine. The grim and terrible reality was that most of the people here were already long gone in mind or so brutalized in body that there was nothing much left of them to even have a quality of life. She’d seen and heard them. Eventually would have been one of them. Araminta couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them here to slowly suffer longer. Mercy would be a blessing that none had granted them before, and perhaps there was at least someone that could leave this place a claim some sort of life.
Mercy.
It stalled him. Her croaking and the very word itself to almost draw out a deep exasperated sigh. But managed not to do so as Araminta was right. There were others inside this place that deserved the means of being set free. What they did with that was entirely on their own decision. Sane or not. However, the fire was going to make it hard to do much of anything in their current location. Dropping his gaze to her and considering the woman that rightfully had just suffered likely more than he could even imagine. Instead leaving him to feel a remorse, a guilt and a rising hot burn of fury at the very solidification of it all.
Stealing a moment to contemplate the flame, he hummed. “We… will try.” He might not have been as abused as Araminta but he was not feeling great either. The iron certainly left a unpleasant lingering tingling amongst the sear marks, alongside the rebellious attitude that would take a mental exhaustion upon him. Only grateful he was wearing armour to somewhat defer the blow he had taken from the man’s knee but that was hardly a measure of good either. “We cannot save them all. A few yes, but we mustn’t linger here. I do not know what else is here or what whom else knows of this place that may approach with continuing intentions of Gusteau’s efforts.” Theon stated carefully but sternly. Her nature was sweet and he did appreciate that, but they couldn’t risk everything now because of it either.
It would put what happened for them to leave, at risk.
“You will have to tell me which people you believe can be saved… perhaps direct me if you know.”
Having to pick and choose who would get a chance to leave and who would have to stay and wither away did not sit well with Araminta, but it was a hard truth. Something that had been ingrained in her since she’d been a wee thing, that as leader you could not save everyone no matter how much you tried. Still, that naiveté that she should try anyway was such a core part of who she was, completely impossible to ignore.
Araminta nodded her affirmation and understanding, though the princess was already trying to quickly plot out the best way to accomplish it. First pointing to where she’d drop Gusteau’s ring of keys, the muttering out how many turns around corners and bends it’d be to reach the long eerie hall of cells that had ones she knew still had some capacity of spirit and body. Hoping that if they freed the most abled first, that perhaps those might have the compassion and wit to help free all the others before the fire started spreading through the keep.
With all of the grime and rotted beams, not even the stone was going to keep it from swallowing up the horrible place. The world would be better for it.
“You can set me down?” she asked, already plotting too that with her helping they could get more people and push the limits on how long they could linger. She was a hobbling mess, but that certainly had never stopped her before!
As cruel as it was, he wasn’t thinking that it was best to save people in this place. Sure that for however long they had been here that their minds were likely as broken as their bodies. But when had he ever really said no to Araminta? It wasn’t like he was about to start now especially when it came to the potential of saving lives. With her means of pointing out the keys to grab –certainly a good idea to make use of them rather than trying to ramrod through anything- he was prompt to adhere to her instructions of which bends and corners they would need to reach.
Of course before starting such a thing, her question of asking to be put down was considered. “No.” And it was rejected. “If we had time, I would have worked on healing you but right now, you’ll just have to rely on me to move about.” Theon gave her a look that might have been persistently haunted by the fact she had pushed prior with a grievous wound and had all the memory of how it ended up. So, no was the answer. Apparently he could deny her at times. Making a move after the keys were gathered to follow said former instructions of which way to go.
“Stop trying to rely solely on your own strength when you have aid.” He grumbled gingerly at her stubbornness.
This had to be the first time he’d ever told her No, though surely it couldn’t have been! Maybe it was simply the situation at hand, where Araminta felt she was perfectly capable of being on her feet and useful. Even growing that petulant look on her face, ready to argue that he wasn’t going to have a simple time of setting people free holding her like this and the two of them could surely get through it faster!
It was the expression on his own face that managed to give Araminta pause and then promptly swallow all of those protests. He’d left her because he couldn’t bear to keep suffering the consequences of all the trouble she kept getting into, and while this time was not of her own doing, to give him more cause to worry would be a cruel thing to do.
Didn’t mean she had to look pleased about it, though.
Without having the use of her own feet, Araminta had to instead make use of continued pointing. Muttering a one, and two, and three, and four when she pointed out certain cells containing poor tormented souls within. They were people she’d been aware had some life still in them and their limbs still in tact. Most looking like filthy wild animals ready to rattle their cages and leap on anything the first chance they got. Whether they were sane and had the wits to do anything, she didn’t know, but at least on opening their cells it allowed them the opportunity of choice.
A sudden echo of barking dogs had her flinching and curling into Theon even despite her aching. She’d forgotten all about the hellish things and Araminta could only hope they were loose elsewhere in the cursed castle keep where they weren’t going to be a problem!
Thankfully there was no rebuttal on her part. Sure that if she knew that if she started, he’d crumble like a house of cards! Unable to resist doing as she wanted even if he may have highly disagreed with it. They’d been separated for a bit now and yet it was almost as a spell for his want to do entirely as she directed, had been cast. The means of saying no, proved to be a task. One that was given without that headbutting refusal. Instead allowing them to be guided along the way into the maw of the terrible place, to where soon enough cells were shown.
Alongside Araminta’s choice to whom was to be freed. Sidling up to the doors while being watchful of those inside. Perhaps this would be the moment he ought to let her use her own feet. In case one of these potential wild cards came flying out in a flurry of madness to attack. Refusing to come this far only to fall at some crazed being!
Hopefully they’d just have enough wits to know that when the door was open, their means of freedom was there. To get the hell out of dodge without even bothering to look at them a second longer. Unsure if this was a good thing to potentially free people who were likely unwell in the head. It would have to be a later thought, for the moment the sound of some hounds were barking, he felt her flinch. Curling inwards that he didn’t need to really ask. “How many more.” Being the question instead, “You need to be healed and we should rest correctly.”
“I don’t- I don’t know,” she stammered, feeling strongly the weight of making these decisions of life and death over these poor people. Her immediate thought being all of them, yet knowing that was unrealistic. As much as Araminta wanted to be the brave and fearless, stalwart person that Theon believed her to be, between the wails and fire, the stench of death, howling bark of dogs and bitter pain… the princess was reaching the limits of how much she could withstand. Finding her head was getting all muddled and her heart was stuttering with an unwelcomed rising panic.
From one of the cells something rose… and rose… and rose. Seeming to be an enormous figure of green skin covered in a bewildering amount of hair and beard. As he shambled out of his cell he towered tall enough he was bent over from the lowness of the ceiling and he peered his eyes right at Theon and Araminta. An orc of all things – how Gusteau managed to entrap such a thing was a mark of just how frightening the now dead man truly was. He stared at them a long moment before giving the slightest of gestures. Then suddenly jutted out a meaty leg and dented in the door of the cell across from him.
There was at least one deemed to try and free others.
Araminta was breathing harder now in quick shallow breaths and it was unclear if that were from injury or fear. She finally relented to nodding her head, the only indication that this was enough for her and they could go.
Worry tainted him in a mere moment of her stammering. Knowing that feeling rather personally that she was likely feeling. The overwhelming realization that there was so much happening at once and while one’s mind was struggling to connect to the reality that they were literally on a time crunch. Pained with everything else, it was a lot to withstand and she had been doing this for however long. Stuck in the mad clutches of a monster, it seemed only right that the decision now was to leave. If her breaking point was the sound of the dogs, then there was no reason to subject her further.
It was probably a bad thing he could understand this and could choose when to cut it short for another.
Intending on turning right around the way they had come to leave promptly, save for the fact that their current freed hostage was well… more than one could have ever expected. Even he was a little taken aback by the surmounting size of a green skinned being. Dipping through the cell and peering at them in such a way that even his mind seemed to seize at the moment.
Fighting an orc was not in the cards today and he didn’t really think he ever would want that to be. Knowing enough tales about them to be rightfully cautious if not mentally gawping at the fact this being was here at all. Of course there was a bit of gracious relief when the being just decided to kick down a door to another cell. Making it look like crumpled paper.
Regardless at his sheer awe, Theon nodded. Attune to the shallow swift breaths it was time to leave. Offering a light proper bow of his head to that of the orc in hopes that the fellow would feel inclined to go bulldozing around till they left as well. Pardoning carefully by, “Just focus on me instead, Araminta.” Softly he suggested, “It’ll be okay shortly.”
Araminta had only seen an orc once or twice in her life. They didn’t exactly enjoy interacting with tiny little men as they oft said. It vaguely made her think of one of the trials and had the situation been different she’d have wanted to interact with this one – ask him questions! – but she was far too overwhelmed for it even to occur to her. So grateful now that she hadn’t argued with Theon as she’d likely have just plopped herself on the floor and not been able to move.
Putting her focus on he wayward prince was the one that was surprisingly easy to do.
She might’ve preferred being unconscious, though, with shuddering howls and the sudden sounds of chaos erupting into the keep now that it’s master was dead and the beings were fleeing wildly. Some without any sort of rhyme or reason, just pure screaming madness to go along with the barking dogs!
He’d changed his armor, she realized in those zeroed in moments. From the hardened leather to the sturdier metal. Likely knowing exactly what he’d be coming into. With a plan too no less. He thought he was no tactician himself, but he’d now removed a true evil from the world and that all by itself made him awe inspiring. Araminta doubted she’d ever look at him again without believing he could hang the stars in the sky if he wanted to.
It was a literal madhouse at this point.
An orc going about deciding what places he wanted to smash wide open only to have a variety of people come shambling out in a vocal shriek or blithering. Shortly realizing they were lacking constraints so that only helped go rushing off into whatever direction they wanted. Making this place certainly feel more associated with the type of insanity that came from being truly tortured. Damn well knowing that Gusteau had been plenty good at that very feat.
The evidence as all about them and all the more reason why he was insistent they get out.
It took admittedly lot longer to leave than it had for him to enter. Actively going about the means of avoiding any particularly deranged escapee that may have wanted to drift too close, only to be a little too intrigued by fire. And then bolt out of the way when it was evident fire was indeed hot. Not sure where the hounds of hell were but they were certainly noisy. Prompting a bit of picking up the pace to get their departure to be met with fresh air and outside light, though he shifted his grasp a little to nudge at Araminta to indicate she ought to shelter her gaze from the light seeping down. If she had been contained inside for a good while, the light wouldn’t be very kind to see.
A glance back had him peering into the castle as greasy smoke was making its way up further inside, hearing the sounds of the beasts once more. Hoping that they were wise enough to take the smell of such fetid scents as a warning to leave for their own safety. If they could.
It took a bit admittedly. Time to navigate up from the bowels of the place and even outwards that he was cautious to whom or what could be lying in wait. Moving with slow care for a good twenty or so feet till it seemed that the afternoon day wasn’t about to burst into a new beast of terror thus far.
Not that he was about to feel like they were scot-free as of yet. Just moving forward. Keep moving forward to where he was sure that they had good distance from the damnable place. Debating if they ought to stay near enough to see the place collapse and whom fled, or not. Just making their way towards where he had discreetly stashed all the collected gear to gingerly kneel and settle Araminta down. Putting grasp to work to stabilize as he could while making sure of his own cloak that had been left behind to bundle around her shoulders. “Take it slow.” Softly stating though he was clearly not about to leave either.
“When you are ready, we’ll work on mending you as much as I can.” Lightly reaching out to make a feeble use of pushing the straggled bits of hair back from dirtied blooded face.
Even despite the guilt of knowing others would still be trapped inside, Araminta had no desire to look back. The farther they got away from that wretched place the better. Hiding her face away easily when Theon nudged her, already wincing at the sudden bright light of day after spending countless days down in the murky dark. Longing to be able to take a true deep breath but still finding herself wheezing with difficulties.
When he set her down she made a few owlish blinks, getting used to the light again. Everything the girl was was thinking flitted across her face in clear succession. All that guilt, fear and fury. Then it was the struggle, and it was an absolute struggle as she pushed, stomped, shoved and attempted with all her might to bury those flurry of dark hopeless feelings down somewhere out of reach. So afraid that once she started sobbing there wouldn’t be any stopping, and Aramina didn’t want to put that on Theon. He needed her to be okay and she could barely breath as it was! Even just the shuddering breaths were painful enough.
“I smell like a goat,” she commented as lightly as she could, knowing he didn’t like her darker humor but it was best how she could managed things. Pulling his cloak tighter around herself only to wince at that stabbing pain again. Softly sighing and tilting back just enough to lightly press where the stabbing kept piercing at her.
“Something is- something is broken,” she did admit. Not about to make the same mistake twice of refusing to tell him of a vital injury. Once Araminta could breathe again, she’d figure out the rest!
Brows moved subtly once she was on the ground. Getting certainly a good and frightful look at her. Already making plans in the means of once she was able to be mended as best he could, the means of taking her elsewhere that she wasn’t even close to here was obviously high priority. Add on that he was sure she needed time to soothe herself and well, his nose indicated it might have wrinkled at her suggestion that she smelt like a goat. If he was a clever tongue he might have said something witty. Alas, he merely hummed and waited for her to be as comfortable as she could.
“I would not be surprised.” Gusteau had struck her. A hard. And that was likely not the first time either, so he wouldn’t be shocked if there was more than a few broken ribs truly.
As much as he wasn’t saying it outloud, she hardly looked like that Araminta he knew. Save for the colour of eyes and the sight of previously noted stubborn will power that has reared its head within the accursed hellhole.
Shifting so he could move from kneeling to more of a crossed legged sitting, he motioned for her to come closer if she could. Otherwise he would just do it himself. Not above dragging her at this moment into lap if the need arose for it. Rubbing finger tips over palm like a warm up, Theon waited for the gentle glow to envelop over palms. “You’ll need to expose your skin to me,” He stated rather overtly, “I won’t be able to heal everything right now but the worse things, certainly. The iron shackles have afflicted my being a little to the point that my thoughts are fatigued.” Indicating that while he would pour as much magic in to the efforts he could, him becoming manna stricken in a new was not on the menu right now.
“I wish to conserve enough energy to use my travel form. And take us at least back to the hut. So you may wash and rest and eat properly.”
Araminta was certainly a shadow of herself; muted, quiet, stoic. A far cry different from that girl who’d woken up in his hut after the harpies and had nothing but flippant, silly things to say. She’d spent so long in that feral state of just trying to stay alive, now that she was safe it was allowing all those things she didn’t want to think about to try and wriggle their way up to the surface. There were so many people now dead because of Araminta’s stupid need to keep on living. Not understanding herself where that drive came from, but finding it was now such a burden to carry, wondering if it was even worth that fight at all.
Wondering in that moment too if these things Theon also felt. Having to somehow find the strength to live even when people like his mother and Gusteau hung over him like evil little midnight shadows.
She had to shake herself out of it and away from the visions of so many dead faces with a quick jolt and a blink, doing as he asked to scoot close enough to his reach. Araminta didn’t quite like the idea of someone putting their hands on her at the moment, but Theon wasn’t just anyone and truthfully had she been bold enough to crawl onto his lap she might have.
He was fatigued and she was half dead all over again! The fact he was there with her at all, knowing how much it took from him made Theon a saint. Making that well of tears threaten to spill even despite all her stubborn shoving of them down.
It could wait, she almost said, but wisely did not. He might actually scowl at her for the first time too if she dared! Instead, Araminta’s shaking fingers made good worth of unbuttoning the top portion of her filthy romper from the bottom half so it could be shifted up as necessary.
It was hardly inconspicuous the way she was so alien right now. Something he didn’t care for but also could truly understand. He knew it the sensations, the mental hurdles that came with it all. However lacking the answers that made it feel any better. All he could do was he present. Waiting for her with no need to rush as there was no reason to insist they were in some sort of hurry; it took a few lingering minutes. Seemingly noticing her dulled awareness if one could call it that.
Carefully when she started to move about, Theon was mindful of his own motions. If she was anything close to him after one of those uprooting moments, then quick motions were often worth a new starting panic.
Decidedly speaking up instead to try and echo Araminta’s behaviours that she had done with him formerly. Talking although he lacked the ability to ramble about whatever it was in the world with the gusto that made it seem like it was just common everyday knowledge. Another skill to envy in the tenacious woman. Right now however, he did go as far as lightly bring her closer that his own lap was hers to occupy for now. Putting her back lightly into his chest. A means of being polite and of course offering a sense of spatial awareness that included that of his own presence. As to be a constant while her mind probably was completing loop-de-loops.
“Thank you.” Leaning somewhat forward that features would be present over that of her temple, close but not impressing that there was a lack of personal freedom; the motion of grasp was made with lengthy care. Over articulating it so she could see it exactly where hand was and where it was going. To lightly bring the feathered touch upon ribcage and to hesitate a moment. Only a moment, “Tell me if you are in discomfort,” Quietly indicating that he wouldn’t know unless she said something, taking due care to let the passage of light healing magic move from himself to the conduit that was palm pressed gingerly to form.
This likely would have been awkward or uncomfortable or even scandalous for someone else. Araminta was too weary to feel awkward, and she trusted Theon with every fiber of her being. The only real trouble was being uncomfortable, which was only due to his armor as she’d much prefer if he were without it as then she could melt properly into a puddle of boneless limbs.
Though when he placed bare hand on her skin she did stiffen up for a second. Fist simply because the bruises were so sensitive, but also a little worried that they might have another episode of his attempts to heal the demon wound, where it fought back with a mountain of pain before she passed out. This time, while there was a small bit of strange feeling and twinges, it wasn’t at all unpleasant. Only warm and nice, making her wish all the more they were far away somewhere more cozy and comfortable where it would be easier to pretend she didn’t feel the way she felt.
After a few moments Araminta tilted just enough to twist and raise a hand to his face, a small wince in the process but well worth the effort when she planted a soft gentle kiss to his cheek. Lingering there for a little longer than she should have, but not having the sense to feel shameful for it.
“Thank you for saving my life for the twentieth time. You did not have to.”
There was nothing to comment about or call attention to in this matter. Had he been someone else that wasn’t so fragmented in the head or lacked certain normal behaviours, this could be a potentially very uncomfortable. Awkward and bashful or perhaps even brusque considering where hands would lay. Thankfully for both of their sanities, he wasn’t a rogue by any means.
Working instead to feel the ebb of soft fluttering light act as the be all mend to what it could reach. Particularly working to right bone back to where it ought to be instead of being a brittle painful drifter. Acting as though the magic was reworking the clock of her form backwards so it would be whole rather than not.
Thinking of nothing else in the moment save for properly attending as best he could. Wondering if it may not be proper to return to the temple for Araminta to seek far more professional healing. If not to entirely tell the Lord Paladin of the beast that was Gusteau and his crumbling fortress. To mention the potential rise in manic souls that had escaped.
But it all paused. With one gentle touch that pulled his thoughts out of their focus to round the rings of gray to locate the bone weary princess. And how close she was to peck a lingering press to features. Feeling a sense of embarrassment rise just enough to lightly pink bearded cheeks but shook his head gingerly a moment after. Retracting grasp as to withdraw in hopes that would help enough for her right now. “I did not have to, but needed too.” Theon glanced a bit shyly aside, “I would not wish anyone to experience such things at such wicked hands. It was never a question or a pausing thought when I learnt of what happened. I wanted to be here with you. To make sure you would be safe.”
The man considered her a little longer, “You’re important to me Araminta. Even if we were not together. That does not change.”
Just having bone mended back into place and finally being able to take in a deep breath again without the stabbing pain was already doing wonders to clear her head. Although it was a double-edge sword, where the cobwebs were swept away and making those unpleasant thoughts more clear and prominent. There was still plenty of soreness and endless wounds to take care of, but Araminta wanted to be gone from the place just as much as Theon did.
His statements did twist that little needle of guilt, that she’d tore him away from what surely had to be a nice and peaceful existence without her. And more guilt still that it warmed her heart far more than his healing magic did to know that he cared that much. Pleased to hear it with the faintest of flushing, even if she felt that she didn’t deserve that amount of care.
“You’ve protected a lot of people now for it,” she added, feeling it was important he knew. Finally now sounding at least a little more like herself instead of a croaking, wheezing thing. “All of the people he would’ve harmed in the future are now safer for it. You are brave and clever, and I doubt anyone else could’ve faced him the way you did. You’re something so very special.”
It felt like such an understatement! Maybe if she weren’t so weary, Araminta would’ve been able to dig up her usual quality of dramatic phrases and flattery that wasn’t just empty statements but all perfectly true about this man. He’d refute every word of it, but it wouldn’t make it any less true.
For the time being, though she hated to move, Araminta sighed. “Can we go home now? Are you rested enough?”
There was a natural debate about her words. Not so sure she ought to be going into this praising any part of it considering he hardly felt those things. The only part that was true was that potentially the future was safer without Gusteau but he was leery about that. Still not convinced that such a thing couldn’t come back from the grave. Silencing himself from saying such nonsense when Araminta didn’t need that thought plaguing her in the day or night. “It is not that I faced him, it was that I had help doing so.” Theon made a bare flick of his gaze to his sword. One that would need to be washed and soaked in water away from a natural source to remove blood and more. “He did it to himself. The sword had a specialize poison made for him in particular… I was not sure it would work.”
Less they fall into this sort of back and forth, he shook his head. Wanting to dislodge it. Knowing that he would have much to think about anyways as there were glaringly obvious things that Gusteau said that weren’t so ready to be buried into forgotten thoughts.
“Yes.” To both her questions, he made a general motion to the other items that he had brought with. “I did not remove the clothing or armour from the woman. I did not wish to desecrate her any further than she unfortunately was. We will need to find you new items for the future.” Theon gave her a gentle patting that was his way of suggesting she would have to scoot out of said lap so he could gather up and make swift haste for them to leave with their returned gear.
It was one of the first things he had done upon their return to the hut. Was pulling out a large barrel to thrust the sword into. It would need to sit there and cleanse itself in the gathered rain water, before he would ensure Araminta was helped into the abode and their various bits of bags and gear was set onto the singular table there. Barely stopping a moment before he told her to wait there a moment and he would bring up water from the creek so she might be able to wash.
There was no tub to use here for her, but the village was nearby and there was always the chance that there was place proper for her to cleanse to refreshment. Not about to encourage her to come to the water side with him at the cold creek to wash and rinse!
A cloth had been gathered and he brought the bucket forth to the little abode. Settling it down with a motion for her to sit if she hadn’t, so he could step around and make his own means of removing armour proper from his frame as well. “I will wash down at the waters, so you may stay here in comfort without anyone’s gaze. I will knock when I return. There is a bit of fresh fruit as well gathered that would be good for you to eat.” Theon glanced at her from over shoulder, “I will hunt later and make something proper for food.”
First and foremost Araminta searched her things to be sure that her quest items were safe and not stolen by the likes of Gusteau or anyone else. Pulling out her spare clothes so that she might have something fresh to wear that felt secure. She might’ve preferred the silken nightgown to be more comfortable, but in that moment she didn’t feel much like a princess covered in so many scrapes and bruises. Araminta could always just remove layers where necessary for any additional healing Theon needed to do.
The fruit she was more than ready to pluck up pieces to pop in her mouth, as that monster hadn’t bothered to feed her at all beyond tossing flesh covered bones into her cell with a grin that suggested it wasn’t animal but rather formerly a person. Araminta hadn’t grown so desperate to try them, and it’d probably turn Theon’s stomach into knots if she ever told him she’d sustained herself on fat crunchy beetles just so she wouldn’t starve.
All the while still searching her things seeming to be seeking something and looking more fraught by the second.
“The faerie’s gift?” she asked, looking through her bag a second time. “It- I won’t be upset if it’s buried with her, but-“
Maybe she would be upset! Having to cover her mouth quickly from the sudden choking sob that came quite unexpectedly. It honestly wasn’t about the wooden pin itself, just that reminder of the poor woman she’d only known for a moment, now buried in Araminta’s clothes. Everything she’d tried to stomp deep down came flooding out in an instant, and just as she feared, now that’d started sobbing she couldn’t seem to stop!
Listening to the rustling of the bag was at least a bit of knowledge that she was feeling at least able to move. Just that the sound of her voice asking for the faerie’s gift, he had intended to go over to his belt to pull out not only its little cloak clasp, but the silver locket that had been given to him. Save for the fact that in a manner of seconds, her statement of not being upset was quickly overruled.
Bidding him to stop his means of retrieving the items in tandem but rather turning to assess that of Araminta. Suddenly and freshly overwhelmed with likely a variety of thoughts he wouldn’t be able to know of. Perhaps better that way.
Taking a moment to pull away the chestpiece to rest upon the floor. Propped up by the wall and joining the chainmail to slink down over top. Mutely considering the means of Araminta. Able to pick up the little flags that he could recognize himself. An oddity of course seeing as he had never had another to rely on or even dare to ask for when these moments of critical mass came to squish down into breaking points. Still—he had a slowly growing understanding of comfort that was due to her own efforts.
Maneuvering with a pivoting step to approach forward. Though he didn’t step into her personal space but rather, offering a hand out. The tingling burns present upon wrists as the damnable iron has certainly made its point of being something he didn’t want to try touching in the future but found it was easier to focus on her rather than studying mentally the means of fae blood. “I have it.” Theon stated quietly, “With the seashell and a silver locket that was given.”
Knowing he had the pin should’ve been the reassurance she needed, but now that the fountain of tears was unlocked there was no putting them back. Days of being heartbroken and missing him just being nearby followed by a tremendous terror that lasted far longer than even she thought she could endure had all finally caught up to her and it had to come out whether she wanted it to or not.
Araminta was a girl that cried and she would’ve rather she was alone so this wasn’t dropped on all Theon so suddenly. It wasn’t fair that he had to carry the weight of her grief, but now it was there and he’d made the awful mistake of offering his hand to her. To which Araminta so selfishly avoided to instead step in and close this distance to bury her face against him instead.
At least this time she wasn’t choking out apologies, as he’d told her not to do so a dozen times already. After she would have to do something quite special for him, as even as she cried she could not stop her thoughts from whirling.
Regardless of what turbulent thoughts she had between the sobs and drips of falling tears, he did know this needed to happen. To expel out in some way the over abundance of raw, unprocessed and sharp emotions that were more akin to cactus buds than anything productive. That as much as she may have not wanted to release anything at all, it was necessary. Otherwise it would just all solidify inside and they didn’t need a male and a female version of him walking around. Removed, dull and unable to entirely process even basic things.
Especially for her. While he was in no means about to suggest she had to be her sun shiny self, he knew it would come back. In time. With patience. Maybe a little bit different but it wasn’t gone, so as she bypass that of hand to come slinking forward to meld herself into his chest. Burying into him before he just mentally let out a sigh that was more morose than irritated. Making use of arms to raise and intertwine themselves politely and carefully over that of back and let her do as she needed.
Gods above only knew there were times when he was small and afraid and overwhelmed that he would have done anything to simply just have someone present. Nothing had to be said either, it just would have made it a little easier to know that things weren’t so desperately alone if that had happened. Using those thoughts to keep him steadfast and steady to where she simply could let it leave her system.
Just simply, “You’re safe.” Was all he felt like he could say at this point, a little bit of assurance that he hoped went forward to touch any portion of her being that needed that security.
Somehow that simple statement actually made her choke out a laugh. He wasn’t trying to be funny, it wasn’t actually funny to anyone sane! Theon was doing his absolute best in trying to comfort her without actually knowing how, and it was the single most sweetest thing in the world. Him holding her and letting her cry would’ve been enough, but his small statement tickled her in such a way that it reminder her why she’d grown so fond of him in the first place.
After a moment or two Araminta at least composed herself enough to pull back – not really wanting to but she desperately wanted to wash away the grim and blood from her skin. Maybe even a layer or two of skin along with it if she could.
There was that soft hint of a smile though, even through the tears when she pressed her hand gently against his heart.
“I know,” she answered with a sniffle. “I’ll need that bucket of water hot though if you want a princess instead of a smelly goat.”
It was also a slow process but hearing her struggle out a laugh didn’t nearly offend him or embarrass him as prior. Rather he knew she didn’t intend things to be mean in such a way, rather he guess it was her feeling something more than just conquering misery. And that, he could take.
Humming softly when she pulled back and confirmed that she knew what he said was true before adding on her own little sparkling commentary. “I do not see horns or hooves.” Theon lightly patted her as he made the move to separate. “It may take a bit of time then but we can use the cauldron here to boil the water so it will be hot. If you feel comfortable watching it, then I will hunt and wash elsewhere so you may have the heated water.” Looking to her quizzically to see if this was a suitable arrangement as whilst he meandered over to pick up his little belt of treasures to retrieve her fairy pin at least.
Araminta nodded her affirmation, stepping aside to let him handle the means of heavy cauldron and bucket of water. Not sure if she had the strength in her arms to move about everything and guessing he might rather want to do it himself anyway so he could feel like he was doing something for her. Although, she wasn’t sure if the single bucket would even be enough water, almost tempted to jump into an ice cold stream herself! Maybe it would do her good to shock her back to her senses.
As he fetched her faerie pin, Araminta was genuinely glad that he managed to retrieve it too. It was the first item she’d received that was special and just for her, not something she had to trade for or buy. Made even more important because it was a gift from such a strange ethereal fae in form of the Treant King. It would’ve been a shame to loose such a treasure!
Though she was a little wary at the thought of even fresh meat, having seen far too much of flesh and blood to last her a lifetime. At least she knew Theon was going to make sure it wouldn’t resemble the creature it came from, so maybe it would be alright. She as certainly hungry enough to eat just about anything, even a handful of beetles if she really had to. …if they were toasted first.
“Theon,” she called first, hesitating there as she wasn’t sure what she had originally meant to say, settling quickly on, “Thank you.”
With a new list of things that he would need to do, firstly the cauldron being the main part to set outside over the small fire pit, body took to pausing. Looking back towards her when she called that of his name. Silently waiting a moment in case she had something else she would like him to do in the meantime. Looking puzzled maybe after a prolonged stretch that eventually had gentle features expressing something that was hardly necessary. Thinking it over in turn with a light bowing of head. Acknowledging her gratitude but finding it really didn’t need to be said anyways.
Nor did he feel a need either to make it such a vital point either because truly, he would have done this all without any means of formal appreciation.
Going about his next bit of task management to gather cauldron. Onto the pit it would rest before taking the bucket to pour into it. At least for a little bit of water to bent and use a bit of the fiery magic for a purpose that wasn’t exploding things into hellish inferno’s before taking the scooping tool with to go and pail up more water from the creek. Making a lengthy effort to at least fill the large boiling pot half way full for her to use at her discretion. Indicating with no more than a motion of head that he would go and do his part to what else he said he would do.
In particular scrounging up something with a decent bit of protein that she wouldn’t have to watch him catch.
He’d likely need to take the cauldron off anyways after she was done with it, rinse it and refill it for something that could boil a broth for just basic rabbit stew. It was easy enough to find the ingredients around the hut anyways, but it would just take a bit. Gathering by his calculations that he’d likely have to go later in the evening or after dark to the creek to wash that of his own hygiene. Making a new plan in place to do what was required and to ensure that nothing was about to change suddenly once more. At least for right now.
Hot water was such a blessing, though Araminta might’ve scrubbed herself a little too hard in some places. There were all manner of cuts and things that needed to be properly washed out if she didn’t want infection. A smell that was probably just sensory memory than actually clinging to her. The mess of her hair was an entire ordeal all by itself.
She’d tossed those ruined undergarments right in the fire, no amount of scrubbing would ever make them wearable for Araminta again.
Having been able to cry herself into a small headache and finally feeling fresh and clean again really did wonders for giving the princess back at least a little bit of feeling like herself again. That weight that hung over her was still there – not to leave her any time soon – but she felt a mildly lighter.
Once she was dressed, Araminta sought out the extra seed from the revered elven tree, turning it over in her palm before heading back outside of the hut. She walked around the tiny shack a few times, surveying how everything was laid out. How the place might get bigger in the future and where gardens would be. Finally decided on a spot that she felt would be perfect for a big beautiful tree. She knelt down on her knees to dig a little hole and placed the seed inside gently. Whispering a bit of encouragement to it, not the plants really cared about that sort of thing, and carefully patted the earth back on top of it.
It could’ve gone anywhere in the world and done someone good, but Araminta felt this tiny home of Theon’s would be a lovely place sprout up hope. He’d given it to her and with that hope she wanted him to have it in return. Feeling he ought to be more connected to his faerie roots and the tree would help him do it.
As promised in his own thoughts when she had finished with the hot water, he took the cauldron. Hauling it away to be rinsed and washed before bringing it back with the means of filling it once more. Leaving a few traps out while he did this in hopes that it would lure what he wanted while only temporarily slipping back into the abode. Noticing that Ara was wandering around for some reason. So long as she didn’t go running into the trees randomly, he wasn’t too stressed over where she was. Going inside a moment to collect some of the dried out spices and herbs while taking a few of the more fresher bits from outside. Favouring tuber veggies to slice up with a sharpened knife.
Knowing that this would have been better if it could cook over the day to thicken the broth into something hearty rather than thin. It would just have to work.
One by one bits of various selections went into the pot. Disappearing back into the woods to check and finding that they were obliged well enough to at least earn a something for a meal. Being sure he was well and away from the hut to avoid Araminta hearing anything, the diligent work of appreciating the animal for giving up its life for their meal, and skinning it in turn, would do well to let the stew beginnings well… stew. Taking a due care to handle the animal meat and stopping to dig to see if there was a wild bit of onion that had grown back. With no luck on that, so it wouldn’t have that flavor. Not that he thought the princess would be particularly heartbroken.
Merely needing nutrition right now rather than something impressively gourmet that would have rivaled her original birth home.
He took care to cut up the meat away from the sight. Bring it back with caution and promptly dunking it all into the pot the second he could. Needing to wash away the remains of cruor for one more pardon for now, his eventual return found her well… digging.
Earning a curious look as he looked as though he was attempting to figure out what she had been doing at all. “Do you feel any better?” He asked instead.
“I feel like Araminta again and not like a beaten old rug,” she responded easily enough. Not with the same light and cheeriness as usual, but much closer to normal. Especially now that she was breathing easier and no longer so stiff and pensive. She pat the earth gently a bit further to make sure the seed was well tucked into it’s new home, then leaned back on her haunches to dust off her hands and admire the spot.
“…I’ve planted the seed here.” she explained, recognizing that curious look on his face. Beckoning him to come close with that wriggle of her finger she oft seemed to do. Pointing to the ground as a suggestion he ought to kneel there as well.
“It’ll need some water. And maybe you can give it a little encouragement too? Seeds aren’t really like living animals I suppose, but then the faerie wood did seem alive in it’s own special way. I told it I’d like it go big and strong here… so you might help it with a little head start?”
Now it seemed kind of silly with her saying it out loud. Giving something fresh life just seemed awfully important to Araminta right now after having seen so much of death. Certain that Theon too might also need it, having to be the one to give the killing blow to someone so gruesome.
A nod was made to signal that he found her feeling more like herself and not as she described, better. Much better. Little steps that could make a large difference with enough time. Something that he felt like she would need of course. And well, some rest. However food would need to come first. Best to put something into her that was a lot better than anything she may have been forced to consume prior.
Yet that curiosity to what she was doing at all had pulled. Offering visually the dull stare that merely waited and finally was expanded upon that she had sought to put the scrawny acorn into the ground.
Here.
At this place that was really nothing special or grand. Just a place with a few walls and a roof. Something she had been making more comfortable for herself and that he just stepped into when it was suitable. The oddity that she would see if the acorn could grow here was truly lost on him. Perhaps all the more reason why he came to that beckoning crooking finger. Gathering down as skin pulled uncomfortably from the shackles placement but kept that resolute ability that offering no vocal displeasure. Coming to be rested on knees. Heeding her vocalization of the fact that the seedling would need water but then some encouragement too. Looking at the spot that was freshly turned soil as if it would tell him what she meant but such things.
Which apparently was Araminta gingerly talking to it and then looking at him in a sense that he might help it as well.
Contemplating longer then before seemingly grunting in agreement about it. It seemed like this might be important for her. Likely it was critical if he was about to be honest to himself. Something she had put here that could spark life rather than knowing everything in this world was so dark, miserable and cruel. Just he didn’t much register at this point the means of death by his own hands. That was so ingrained into his body that taking another life meant very little. It might be another part of why he was just generally deadpan.
Easily he nodded, adjusting grasp once more with a tugging notion that he was tired after everything. Knowing he couldn’t do a lot and he really ought to use the ability more so for her. But he could do so after sitting a while and eating. To keep watch while she slept.
Laying palm on the soil with a slow turning but influenced bit of magic into where she planted the little thing. Still unsure he could heal a plant but willing to try. Giving it a minute or so before retracting and staring at the ground. “We will see if it helps.”
Araminta watched intently, eyes wide and expectant. Waiting for something lovely and mystical to sprout up. After a few moments passed and nothing peeped up from the brown earth, there was the briefest look of disappointment, followed by something akin to acceptance.
Nothing could grow in a day. Like Theon and like herself, it was likely going to need a little time to heal before it could wake up from it’s slumber and begin to sprout.
“I hope it grows tall and has flowers in the spring, that will be beautiful,” she answered. Pushing herself up from the ground and reaching to fetch Theon’s hand to help him up to. A silly thing considering she was the one both physically and mentally exhausted. This was simply a habit she was unaware of.
She hoped the seed slept well, as Araminta herself refused to do so. Food was going to do her well and she’d be happy for it. Sleep on the other hand was something the princess was dreading. Enough so that she intended to fight it at every opportunity. Perhaps she would take up Theon’s habit of meditation and cat napping. Thinking they might trade places now where he’d get to sleep soundly through the night and Araminta would stay awake and watchful.
Such a miraculous thing it would have been to pull his hand away and then suddenly a sturdy sprout would have popped up. Something that would have been properly magical but not capable of happening. Still unsure if his healing could do that or even if it was good enough to do that. Surely a proper mage could have matured the withered seedling into a mighty tree with a few flicks of ones wrist. Alas that would not be the case and he could only offer slow nods to gingerly agree with the wants that Araminta hoped for.
That this would become a tall healthy tree that had flowers in the spring. “Perhaps you could make tea from them.” He stated rather out of the blue before looking at her grabbing at his hand. Insisting to get up to where certainly if he stayed put, she’d likely have a hard time getting him to move.
Not that it was necessary to do by any means. Fetching himself back to standing to approach that of the pot and temporarily slip inside to return with a long handled spoon. Sticking it down into the variety mixture to stir. Feeling the silence in a way that it wasn’t as comfortable. There was a quiet very subtle tension. Pulling his gaze away from the slowly spun contents to find the young woman. Settling his attention onto her and well, “Talk.” It seemed to him that it might have been a command when it wasn’t. “You must be thinking many things, if it would help you… I will listen.” Which he proven time and time again that his ears were quite capable of just that. “What can I do to help?” Theon lingered, “What can I do for you or what do you need me to do?” Making it a very open and broad statement with no hooks that ought to say she should be concerned.
Araminta quite like the idea of making tea from the flowers or leaves, if they tasted lovely. For such a revered tree, she bet it had all sorts of uses that would be beneficial, else it wouldn’t have been so important to an ancient elven culture.
What she wasn’t expecting was Theon’s sudden command of talk. He was making a lot of these instructions and commanding statements, which was incredibly encouraging in her opinion. For him to be comfortable enough to instruct her on what to do without having to ask permission for every little tiny thing, or have that uncertainty behind it was good for him. He wasn’t beholden to anyone.
Only with his companion questions, Araminta found herself at a loss of how to respond. There were a million different thins on her mind for sure. Almost all of which weren’t pleasant… grim and ugly more like it. Better that she didn’t speak at all really if she had nothing nice to say.
Unlike Theon, her thoughts unknowingly flittered across her face as easy to read as a book.
Twisting her mouth to the side, she stepped over to a felled log to have a seat. To watch stir the pot and to ponder something worth speaking about.
“I’m not thinking about much.” An obvious lie, harmless at least. “You’re doing plenty enough. With a real meal in me I might be able to play some music.”
At his attempts to be supportive with tryingbthe means of asking her questions, it wasn’t hard to see the flitting of expression. Hardly the ones he knew to come from her previously. A good portion of him understood this but it hardly seemed to comfort his mind any. This was someone that he expressed that had strong importance to him. A first considering his life had been less than grand.
She mattered to him. In ways he could comprehend and ways he likely never would.
To see her in such a state… it bothered him. Intensely. Wishing that there was some magical means of repairing everything with a snap of fingers. Even if the sentiment was impossible and childish. By no means was he practiced at this effort of being a shoulder to lean on.
There was a lot on her mind but evidently it was more than she wanted to share. For she took the chance to sidle along to a nearby fallen timber. To offer him an bald face lie. Budding a low humming in throat with a gradual back push with the stirring to go the opposite way. “I apologize for trying to push you if you are not ready. This effort of being comforting is new. I will not ask or insist to help any further.” Apologizing that he may have made her uncomfortable to the point that her former ability to speak freely had been jeopardize.
By all means, he knew the safety of staying silent and keeping it all mostly tucked away.
She likely didn’t consider that he was sincere after they’d split ways. Wondering if friendship only existed when they were present at all times and traveling. He had departed so that would make sense to him.
He was likely no longer a person that she could be open with. Mentally chalking it away as to be polite not to attempt to overstep boundaries with her. She’d been in a new traumatic experience, she knew herself best and how she would deal with it all.
That was her right after all and he would be respectful.
Araminta was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she almost missed the statement, which truly would’ve been the hugest of blunders. The last thing she wanted to do was set him back and make him think that his attempts with her were about him.
Well, they were. Just not in the way he seemed to assume.
“Oh, Theon, that’s not an issue at all. Please don’t stop ever trying. I’m just…”
The princess paused there, trying to find the right words in that flurry of a mind of hers. Drawing her damp hair over her shoulder to fiddle and fidget with the edges while she tried to think.
“I don’t know…” came a heavy, weary sigh. “I feel like I came out of the mountains as curse to everyone here. A plague of sorrow to everything and everyone I touch. Worse even because I know I’m not going to stop, as I know I need to keep doing these blasted trials because something deep down inside tells me that I’ve started something important and I need to finish. …yet now there are so many innocent people dead and how can I not feel like that is my fault? Rationally I know it isn’t, yet here I am wondering how many more are going to suffer for my actions.”
Thankfully, Araminta had already cried herself out so that lump in her throat and the ache in her chest were the worst of it now and she didn’t erupt into another round of useless sobbing. Leaving the girl to drop her hands to curl her arms around herself and sigh another deep sigh. Brows furrowed and grim frown completely the look.
“I was hoping you could get away from me and know a life that was filled with something beautiful and peaceful. Here we are again with me broken and you having to take care of me. All I can think is that I’m so glad you’re here, then I immediately remember I am just going to keep hurting you with every action I make.”
She could have never said a singular peep and it would have been entirely accepted. Knowing that while he was trying to figure out what this dynamic was now, he considered her still very important. Very much a being that held sway and purpose for him in new strange and exciting ways. Things he would have to dissect privately. With the hope that when he did so it might all make sense. So while he could see that she was distinctly lying about having nothing to say, he also knew not to overstep. Whatever she wanted to do was for her to choice. Even if it meant staying silent. That was her right and he’d respect that with a strong backing.
Unfazed that perhaps his thoughts had figured out that she was not considering him as a friend but something else now due to their departure. It would only make sense if he was taking the puzzle pieces in his mind.
Akin to when one did a collaboration. The people involved worked together but that did not mean they would stay together once it ended. That seemed suitable to round around in one’s skull. Tempering with a sorting care that he would not ask or push or incentivize making her do anything further that was not of her own selection. Accepting easily.
Naturally he intended to merely focus on what the task was at hand now. Peering in to see what he could but found that she was trying to say something about not stopping his efforts before she trailed off. Giving him an inkling that she was attempting to play people pleaser than what she really said before. Looking aptly the part of unease as she grew fidgety. Ready to say she did not need to do so and there was no offense on his side to have if she felt that was the case. Only that she started talking in such a way that it dulled down the rising attempt to say otherwise.
Observing her with tepid hold. Hearing first rather than stopping her to interject any pearls of wisdom or emotional response. Figuring that while he did not wish to insist her to do anything she did not wish too, her tone and spiel was evidence of turmoil. Seemingly to have been budding a lot longer within her than just a few days.
Letting it all come out and waiting an few additional moments after she said her peace for him to run it once more through memory banks. Selecting the parts that seemed to stick out as the potentially sharpest. “Incorrect.” Theon stepped a bit sideways before tapping the long handled spoon to the side of the cauldron. Looking at her rather directly to indicate he was waiting for her to stand so she could take the item and stir. Something for her hands to do and well, she did say she wanted to learn how to cook. This was just a minor start.
He’d wait for her to either do so or not. Responding fitting to the situation, “Our departure was chosen due to my own insecurities and guilt. Made because I care for you in ways I do not understand entirely and did not like the sensation of uselessness that appears when things go array. Where your efforts have strong merit and there is much within me that is not functional in ways that are suitable for civilization or interaction.” AKA knowing he was more or less a freak in his own way. “Guilt sits like a second skin knowing that someone who tried to help for the first time that I can accurately remember but was harmed due to my own negligence is not something that feels great.” Admitting that seeing her hurt as she had been, stirred a lot of things. And the highest of it all was culpability.
“However,” Theon continued with the levelness of voice, “I did not wish to leave either. Just I did not enjoy submitting you to a less than fitting person. You are ambitious, I am not. I value and envy much of you in polite ways rather than harbouring ill-will. And when I left, I was intending on finding Gusteau regardless. I highly believed that death was to be my reward. To learn you were harmed by him…” Eyes flicked away down to the ground in thought, “I did not pause a moment after I heard. You are too important to me and to many others that you touch with your merry personality to let wither. And it is clear that the Imperial Queen hates that you rally people. I would never think twice about giving over my life for yours.”
Brows lightly moved as he seemed to be thoughtful, “I believe that is a close sentiment to love?” He knew the word but it was still elusive.
Araminta wrinkled up her nose at his statement of incorrect, not quite knowing what he meant about it, yet still ready to argue and fuss regardless. She knew she was the problem and him trying to reassure her otherwise was only a testament to his kind soul. Still, at his beckoning she did rise, taking the ladle into her hand to begin the means of stirring. Listening, as when Theon deemed to speak it was always with purpose and she’d never discourage it.
Find that perhaps not all was as she assumed either… Though proving again that he was a man of compassion and care. With a heart that deserved so much more than what the world had given him so far.
“That’s love,” she agreed easily, something that delighted her and made her feel terrible all at the same time. Taking in a deep breath to sigh, though this time without that world weary heaviness but a light, dawning realization and confusion as well.
“I never knew that caring about someone could be this complicated,” she admitted, glancing up at him then with a sort of bewildered shrug. “It’s new to me too. I loved my family and my friends, but I suppose I never had my care for them tested and battered through a storm of trouble the way it has with you. Loving people is easy when everything is calm and safe. …all of this has been so hard and so frightening.”
While Araminta was easily one that could sit and do nothing, this mixing and stirring of the pot did help her not be so fidgety and awkward as she wrangled the thoughts in her head. Leaning to peer at the contents inside and being grateful that the smell was something pleasant rather than turning her stomach.
“I’ve felt guilty for all you’ve had to suffer because of me…” she peered up at him with a frown. “I felt so deeply that I needed to live and endure with that monster because I knew when he left me that he would come for you. A friendship full of love and care is not a bad thing. It’s seeming so foolish that we’re riddled with so much guilt just for trying to do the best for each other.”
“Hmm.” The affirmation of what he was assuming were the ingredients for the quandary of a thing called love, he wasn’t entirely sure yet what to do with that. It was still incredibly strange and he wasn’t entirely convinced either that he was capable of such things. Or how to even recognize it outside of standard descriptions. It would take a lot of careful mental gymnastics to really determine if he was functional to have such emotions at all. Concentrating effort of gaze no sooner down into the stirring pot to see its contents slowly whirling around.
They’d just the meat to be cooked fully rather than too much of anything else. With the veggies having sat in the hot broth longer, they would soften a lot sooner than the meat cooked.
Stealing muted peeks at her while it seemed they were to open up in ways that were seemingly brand new to them each. Although he suspected she could pinpoint such sentiments a lot faster than he could, while figuring he ought to manage that of his wounds now that she was handling the movement of the meal. Only temporarily motioning for a second so he could go inside and pull out the binding wraps that would do well to seal over wrist burns and such before returning and settling back in place. To work the cloth with due meticulous care while hearing her explain that she felt guilt for his suffering. With her. That their kinship was foolish because they cared clearly for the other but they were prone to taking the others suffering as slaps to themselves.
“I would not consider being with you any portion of suffering.” Theon declared, “I know what suffering is. By comparison, this has been akin to a breath of fresh air. Even if things are tumultuous at moments, it has not caused me misery. The opposite really.” The man paused to consider her quietly, “I’ve enjoyed living with you and beside you. But that does not placate my worries in turn either. It is bound to linger. You are the first person who has treated me with kindness and for that… you may as well consider me as a loyal dog. For I do not see fault or blame possible within you. Upon you. Just that you are Araminta and you make my heart warm.”
“I would not consider you a loyal dog,” she responded softly, and not just because she now had an unfortunate experience of being bitten and mauled and chase by a vicious pack of the things. “You are Theon, someone extraordinarily full of compassion ad your own thoughtful kindness and it’s been a blessing to have met you.”
There was a bit of peeping out the corner of his at him wrapping his wrists. Wishing she could do something more about them, but knowing that she had very little means to do so. Already feeling that twinge of guilt again and now growing frustrated with it. This guilt she felt… that they both felt was clearly problematic and causing issues for them both that didn’t need to be issues at all. They’d both thought a separation was the course to take, yet that hadn’t actually solved a thing! Rather it caused them more grief and likely made the situation worse for them both!
What to do then, she softly considered. Turning ladle in cauldron as she rest a hand on her hip. That contemplate and thoughtful pondering invading her features as she turned it over in her head.
“We might not be able to stop worrying about each other, but maybe we could agree to stop letting our guilt take the reigns? Theon… I don’t want you to leave again. If we both feel we’re better together, then we should stay together. There’s no reason why we can’t share our worries and fears to comfort and care for each other, if we’re both willing and happy to do so. Even during moments when it’s frightening.”
He had meant in a sense of figuratively expressing that he was undoubtedly loyal to her as a hound would be that had been saved by gracious hands. Unlikely to deviate even if things were cruel, it was the single act of sincerity that was craved and received that bid him to be entirely bidden to her. Hardly upset with it in any matter. Though her suggestion that he was extraordinarily full of compassion and such, it made him lightly warm at the cheeks. Embarrassed even if there was that obvious hint of disbelief in such things. Unable to see the forest through the trees as it were.
But he wasn’t going to argue her thoughts either. If that was what she seen in him, he ought to be appreciative to know at least someone seen him more than the mad beast that had been the Imperial Queen’s lackey. Or the distrust that people had towards him if they knew him. If they didn’t know him, the commentary that came and left him often rather internally downtrodden.
Finishing one wrist with a testing feel, he moved to the other.
Glancing towards her when she was adjusting posture to look a little more comfortable around the pot, it seemed her mind was flaring up to start cultivating a thought of greater depth. Spurring that glance to turn into a proper consideration that formed outwards into a statement that caused him to stop doing what he was doing.
Looking at her in a way that might be on par for wondering if she sprouted as second head. Never mind the way his chest seemed to flush warmly with the simple idea that she wanted to stay together. He was liable to enjoy being wanted even if it ended up being a short stint. “I would… like that.” He nodded softly, timbre of voice drooping enough to hint bashfulness. “And I will try harder to be vocal and expressive in such things. It may take me some time however and that I will apologize for. Simply I wish to be valid and useful to you as you deem fit.”
The soft way her spoke and the faintest of flush to his features helped her confirm that it was indeed something he actually wanted… Filling Araminta with such a relief that any tension that had still been in her body had finally washed itself away, with a sense of knowing things would alright for them. Of course all of those fears she had, and linger trauma was going to eat away at her still. The chipper bounciness couldn’t just return in and instant, not when she knew there was so much still ahead of them. Yet knowing they could face it all together, that was a powerful thing.
“It’s a promise then. No matter how difficult or scary things might be, that we won’t leave each other simply because we’re feeling guilty or because we’re afraid of the other being hurt. Only if one us truly is ready to move on to a different life.”
Araminta was confident in this promise. Her life had a certain protectory to it that wasn’t going to change. One day Theon was finally going to have the peace and confidence to see what the world had to offer, but for as long as he wanted to stay close to her she would be grateful to have him. Even though it might be scary, if he really wanted to be near, she wanted to have him.
“That is… okay for you? It’s a promise?” she asked, just to be extra certain.
“Yes.” There was no barring or hold back on this agreement. There was a certain lightness to the fact that she was expressing a desire to be around him for a longer period of time that he was hardly going to decline. Though he had a bit of a look at her when she suggested one of them moving onto a different life. That was unlikely considering what he knew of said reputation and such. He’d be content to just be with her and when it was finished, revel in what had transpired. “Promise.”
Finalizing the remaining wrist with a good look over, he would set aside the remaining bits of bandages. So he might be able to draw close once more to peer down into the contents of the pot.
Debating something but whatever it was seemed to disappear. Shortened to where he then looked at her gingerly. “It was not the same without you.”
“I was pretty miserable with you gone,” she admitted. For the first time glancing up at him with the full force of a genuine, soft smile. No accusations or means of making him feel guilty, simply honesty and a gladness that they were back to where they should be once again. With Araminta gently bumping her shoulder into him as a light teasing and a theft of physical contact.
“I missed you. And that look you make when you think I am doing something silly but you don’t want to say so out loud.” Generally in the form of when she’d try to reach out and pet something she probably ought not to. But that was a trait of hers that would never change, nor did she think would ever stop being gently exasperated by it.
Reaching out, she softly put a hand over his wrist with a brush of her thumb. Giving her own expression of wide eyed wonderment.
“You have a colorful vocabulary of curse words too,” she’d remembered, seeming to seeking the memories of things that didn’t upset. Searching for the light somewhere amidst all of the darker moments. Coming closer to behaving as her usual self through the motions of ridiculous teasing.
There was a real possibility that he could suddenly bloom with this new forward motion they were setting into place. Opening the efforts of communication in a loud way that spoke in itself that no more hiding what they thought could be problematic. Which spurred him to point out that the time absent from her was not nearly as enjoyable. Sure he had learnt some interesting things but he wasn’t interested in much besides those narrow pieces.
Though he was still impressively bashful when she was a lot better at the vocalizing of missing him. That was a curious thing that did something to his stomach. But settled one, “Look?” Not sure he knew what she meant to which apparent look he gave her to something silly. As far as he knew, his features rarely did a lot. Unless he was in a very high stress situation –which was also a new thing to learn about. But she was doing that thing making him think to then being softened like warm butter when she was gingerly affectionate.
Shortened of course when surprise drew and he was looking away as if something had called him from somewhere else entirely. “I do not recall such things.” So he could lie too. Or rather denying the fact he had a few times recently that his character broke apparent to be rather vehement in tongue. Using language that was foul and unfit for anyone’s mouth.
Slowly turning that the line of eye could be in that of corner, watching her gingerly. Not yet apologizing for it but trying to determine whether she was amused, horrified or something in-between. Settling on, “I am not so saintly, mind you. Even I have points where emotions become raw to where… sense loses its foothold.” Before he seemed to wrinkle his nose somewhat, “I would not advise repeating my expletives however.”
“This look,” she said, pointing a finger at her face in her attempted to mimic the soft change of features to something both incredulous and exasperated. Except on her it was far more expressive and silly than what ever actually crossed his own features.
Araminta was far more interested in this new threshold they’d crossed, however, in that he was being more playful with her. Attempting a fib that was obviously untrue, but far more funny was that he had to turn his face away from her as if she’d be able to read the lie in his expression. Prompting her to give the softest huff of amusement.
And another still when he’d suggested for her not to repeat them!
“What explicitive?” she repeated back, calling him on his fibbing, trying not to grin so ridiculously about it and keep an air of asking a serious question. “Which explicitives specifically?” Just to have him squirm a little at the thought of saying them again.
She truly did miss this so much. Curling her arm around his to rest her head against his arm for a moment in a gentle squeezing hug, until she remembered she was supposed to be minding the stirring of this savory smelling stew he’d put together.
He was pretty certain that was not what he looked like when trying to eye her down when she was doing something silly. Unaware that he was exactly making the face she was trying to describe in this very moment. A bare movement but there to apparently the scrutinizing eye that was Araminta. Almost tempted to correct her once more yet she proved to be a little more wily now. A little more lively which was a good thing. Pulling out comedic moments she found amusing enough to call back and put him on the stage of questioning.
One that he was prompt to turn away from and suggest that such things did not happen. Even if it clearly had and there was no way he could squirm out of it.
Daring to slip a peek at her in which was swift on latching on figuratively to the details. Exactly which ones he didn’t want her to repeat. “I don’t remember.” Feigning that bit of knowledge like it had entirely slipped out his ear. Refusing to give in and suspecting she knew all of the ones he had dropped more recently anyways. So she was just teasing him. Admittedly it was a nice feeling even if he wouldn’t give into her whims this time.
Shortly being presented with a fondness when she came to lean close. Rest temporarily before realizing what she was supposed to be doing. “It should be ready soon enough. The meat should be cooked all the way through with no pinkness instead. In case you are curious.”
“Sodomizing pigs,” she whispered to remind him, if only because it was the single one she could actually repeat without going too pink in the face. Araminta wasn’t scandalized by such cursing, yet she was still a lady and ladies didn’t speak in such indelicate ways.
Curiously in that moment Araminta realized that she and Theon approached even moments of panic in opposite ways. He’d grown wild and vocal and though his practiced skill was ever present and automatic, he’d get… spicy! Where Araminta would be quiet and serious, taking on that solid exterior of stoic focus. Their reversal in roles of many things always seemed to compliment each other.
She liked that. It was such a good thing to have in a trusted companion.
Peering into the pot, she did a bit of stirring to locate one of the chunks of meat pulling it up to give it a few testing pokes to test for that mentioned pinkness. A few more minutes then, but not long at all.
Now that she’d had the time to finally get her head back in proper order, other curious things were popping up in her thoughts begging for a second consideration. An examination, or at least a little mulling over. Twisting her mouth to one side at something especially peculiar, but uncertain if she wanted to mention it at all at risk of sullying the peaceful moment.
Eventually decided that getting to talk about things did actually help her and it was too odd not to ask.
“He said something strange about your heart…” not wanting to say his name and knowing Theon knew who she was alluding to. “Had it been just once I’d not have given a second thought, but it is strange that it was more than once, yes? To be so specific? Did that mean something to you?”
“Ara.” Apparently starting to like the shortened form of her name, it was quick at her whispered repeating of a part of what had been barked out. Giving her an almost embarrassed through those mercury rings before shaking his head. In that moment just lending him a thought that she was no better than a bird that could mimic others. Something she shouldn’t say and she was doing so like a bad little one. Encouraging another shake and prompt shifting to indicate to the meal instead.
Observing as she went about the means of fishing out a chunk to test and seemingly allowed them to lull comfortably into a space of easy acceptance. Familiarity. Something he missed more than he had realized.
Staying with Hector and learning was enjoyable but it wasn’t comfortable. There was a lot more acceptance in this moment where she wasn’t prone to pointing out his oddities as the old man had been. Which fairly they were two entirely different people.
Considering going indoors to pull out the means of bowls and minor cutlery. Before he even moved, she was asking something and it drew him right back to observing her. So she had heard Gusteau state that as well. Meaning he wasn’t just randomly remembering something on a peculiar whim but there was more to it. As Araminta stated, it wasn’t just once. It was more than that so it seemed rather important to linger upon. “I noticed. Squeezing my heart when I was newborn and something about obeying the Imperial Queen without his heart in her hands.”
Eyes drifted to look at the ground again. This time with thoughtful length to ponder over it all and search his mind for if there was something stashed away that was referencing any of this as well. Just that, nothing was coming to mind. “No.” Fingers lifted to scrape at that of beard. The motion intending to attempt to make his thoughts come forward or some brainy idea to pop forth. Nothing occurred of course but the attempt was there. “Nothing in the means of recollection however,”
Theon paused. Debating how he would express this. “Pains I’ve had in the past but more frequent now. Chest pains. Enough to double me over and drop me to my knees if I am standing.” The man frowned softly, “Notably where my heart is, it is expressively agonizing. When I was with Hector, the first thing caught us both off guard. A moment where I thought it would be my end, if I was to be honest.”
Broad shoulders shrugged as he settled ginger sights upon her own green ones. “Although with how it was phrased and the happenings, I may assume they are aligned. Perhaps there is something I am unaware of when it comes to my heart.” The tone carried suggested he was unbothered by this though it probably should have warranted some urgency.
“You’ve told me once before of the feeling, when you were out hunting,” she added, arranging this information in her mind to prod out. Knowing that this was an actual physical feeling he’d experienced as well as Gusteau’s strange comments… that meant there was something there.
Araminta looked him with that examining verdant gaze, as if somehow she’d be able to get her answers just by looking at him. Nothing immediately came to sight. Though, the princess was already well acquainted with how the Imperial Queen could cast magic at a distance to reach them, so it wasn’t out of the question that she had an actual physical hold on Theon.
“Now we will need you examined by the paladins. When they’ve returned from Neive.” This was a statement of fact, and if he chose to fuss about it, she would immediately point at that her own lack of them attending to her demonic wound sooner had led them astray. She wouldn’t let Theon repeat her mistake. “For at the very least to see what sort of spell she has over you, for it surely has to be a spell to reach you from any distance. Likely there for quite a long time…”
To not have told him she had that power to harm him, that…. that was the part that confused Araminta the most. One would think she’d have held this knowledge over Theon since the moment she cast her magic. A way to make him do what she needed through means of punishing pain and proof she could get to him anywhere. What was the purpose of such a secret? It had her puzzling over what other potential plots the Imperial Queen had up her sleeve!
“I can’t protect you from magic,” she huffed a little, clearly frustrated with it. “But we are aware now. The only good thing that… that ubiquitous fuck ever did.”
Araminta immediately wrinkled up her nose. No, no cursing like that was not for her! She would leave it to Theon!
He had forgotten about that incident. Though with it rekindled in his mind, there was worry there.
What sort of thing did his mother have on him that he was unaware of? Had it been part of him since he was born as Gusteau suggested? Now there was so many questions that if he were the type to be influenced by emotions he might have started to whirl around in a panic. Luckily it was just a new curiosity with a unwelcomed burden to place.
Stroking fingers along jawline once more. Delving into thoughts for answers that did not exist. “I do not know if I would be welcome back. The monks and others are not associated well with the Imperial Queen after all and my reputation is as black as she is.” Theon paused and uncharacteristically looked a little saddened, “I am highly disliked, Araminta. And it bothers me rather often to hear or see or feel how others who do not know me, behave in reaction.”
Arms dropped away as he wasn’t about to bleed into the misery of it all. “If this is something that could be sensed by the paladins, then I would not refute. I would simply dislike making so many people uncomfortable.”
Of course he was shortly nodding to her statement of how she could not protect him from magic. Just that as she was growing frustrated, she was apparently about to try her hand at swearing. “I feel as though you’re mouth ought to be washed out.”
“You’d have to catch me first,” she retorted, just as quick of wit.
Araminta didn’t linger on that silliness for long though, feeling the need to abandoned her stirring altogether and hug his arm again.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. A reputation might follow you, but I have seen people meet you and shift their opinions. Reeves was very fond of you and I’m certain all of that order would trust his judgement.”
In fact, the way Reeves had spoken to her, Araminta had gathered he was quite impressed with what he’d seen of the Imperial Prince. That it had been Theon directly who convinced him to give his aid, well before he’d even had his first conversation with Araminta. Which was no surprise to the princess, as there was nothing to dislike about the man. He was only ever calm and honest. Curt and direct when he needed to be.
“Until they return, perhaps we should go and visit Matilda’s friend? I still have the things he might want for trade and I suppose now we’ll need new supplies again. A little rest and procrastination too, if I am honest. It doesn’t seem to be too far away from where I need to be, anyway.”
Now he wasn’t sure he wanted to get Araminta bolting around like some maniac in a game, considering he knew she still could use some more healing. There was no telling how much she hadn’t revealed to him yet and he didn’t want to really go about chasing her on a whim of them both behaving like children.
Finding that she was wise enough not to do so and just gave him a new tender sweetness that he wasn’t sure he entirely deserved but was hardly declining.
Daring to listen to what she had to say about his reputation as she was the one who had originally turned down his mother’s suggestion of them being married. Because she heard things about him that were unfavourable and she had natural assumptions in turn.
Though to hear that Reeves was fond of him, it drew uncertainty. Confusion and waited thought to debate a lot of that. The lord paladin did seem like he had a lot of pull in the temple. A good thing too for the fellow and his feisty ward Padma appeared to be glue to the order. Valuable, worthy and what was the word that Reeves kept using.
Full of candor.
All he could do was simply believe that Araminta was correct. That the paladin might have sway at all that others wouldn’t be put out again because he was present. Momentarily looking at the cauldron with a slight motion that she should check the meal once more to see if it was suitable for consumption while he pondered the means of going to see that of Matilda’s friend. Shortly agreeing that new supplies would be good. “I think it might be wise to lay low. With Gusteau removed, I do not know how long it will take for the Imperial Queen to become aware. We both could use a bit of resting and you with some new items as well. So if you think it would be good, then we will do that.”
He turned then on the heels of his feet to state he was just going to grab some of the necessary elements that one would need to eat. A short slip in and back out with retrieval of what was required as he then would wait for her decision on the stew.
While Araminta did not know the full scope of who Gusteau was and his role for the Imperial Queen beyond being an absolute sadistic bastard, by the way Theon reacted and responded about him, he must’ve been someone valuable to her. That alone was enough to understand that the consequences of his death were coming in one form or another. Perhaps even more viciously so if Theon had recently suffered those pangs in his chest again.
The good news is that it meant she and Theon were doing something right. Reeves had told her that the Queen was growing increasingly into a foul mood with every trial Araminta completed. She realized now that Gusteau was likely her first response to that. …but now that he was gone, the bad news was that Bloody Heirra was going to be even more furious. And there was no way to know what the woman would do or how she would do it.
Unknowns could be frightening. At least with these small plans Araminta could feel as if they were moving forward.
On inspecting the stew in the pot and testing to be sure the meat was ready one last time, Araminta was happy to fill the bowls Theon brought. A more than proper proportion for herself as the fruit she’d eaten had done little to curb the appetite that had decided to return in full force. A little less for Theon as he rarely ate much in one sitting and could always get more if he wished. Good that it was piping hot too, otherwise Araminta might’ve started shoveling food in her face like some wild starving goblin from out of the woods.
The mystery that was his mother was ever growing. Something he wonder if anyone actually knew the scope of her abilities. As her blood relative, he knew limited information outside what was already stated. She was a powerful mage that was likely to do more than simply dabble in the dark arts. Just how far was more of a question.
Unclear it was to him to know whether his abilities as a mage were lesser than hers or if the were comparable but limited because he was never truly taught.
Although there was the glaring obviousness about his fae blood too. Something he knew so little about outside what his father was and the horse form. Now such a thought was, why had the Imperial Queen selected his departed make parent at all?
Many new thoughts bloomed even as Araminta doled out the food to them. Glad to see that she gave herself a hearty portion. And, himself less. Indicating that they could stay outdoors to eat as well.
Coming to sit shortly while he began to vocalize a thought, “Do you think it would be important to learn of my fae nature? Would it help?”
More than happy to stay outside for awhile after being trapped inside the murkiest, darkest dungeon of all time, Araminta settled into a seat next to Theon. Likely far closer than was proper or necessary, she just… needed to be close. Something Araminta had an awareness of and was trying to remind herself that such a feeling was a normal thing after an event so traumatic. Attempting to still those wicked little weasels in her brain that were attempting to shame her for clinging to Theon’s side at all.
Waiting for her food to properly cool was becoming near impossible, so there was quite a bit of impatient stirring and attempts to lick the spoon without scalding her tongue.
His question at least helped in that regard. She couldn’t scald herself if she were talking.
“I do!” she answered immediately. “I’ve thought it peculiar that you’ve not seemed to tap into it beyond your nokken form, for even as half fae you should have skill far beyond that. At the very minimal you ought to not be plagued with manna sickness. Fae are… they are magic. The very essence of it. Truthfully, by means of both your parentage, your gifts should be on par with the Queen herself if not more.”
With how quick she answered, this was certainly something Araminta had pondered in those quiet moments she’d not been active or blabbering on about some nonsense. To be fair, she did spend a ridiculous amount of time thinking about Theon in general. Nor did she truly know the scope of how powerful Queen Heirra actually could be. This was simply her theories based on her own learning and observations.
“I suspect it’s why she never allowed you a proper education. To teach you how to be a mage or to connect with your fae heritage would risk you surpassing her. To keep you strong enough to do the deeds she demands of you, yet never becoming something more.”
Truthfully the fact she was this close was welcomed. Invited even. Merely missing the knowhow on which way or what on vocalizing that he found it comforting. Or to even state that she was probably the only person thus far that could draw so near without invoking every flinch, turn and inchworming away. At this point, he was aware of her proximity and found it almost strange if it was there. The time apart had made that glaringly obvious. Maybe one day he might be able to find the correct words that would express this so they both knew it.
For now, he would simply accept it with a calm reverie.
Giving the stew slow turns with spoon while his mind was shortly pronouncing a wonder that came to be voiced. Seeing as thus far of anyone who knew his blood was shared with the notoriously fleeting and mysterious folk, it was her. Pair on that Araminta had a good kinship with them as well, he wanted to know her opinion.
An opinion that was promptly stated in boldness that he hadn’t expected. Leaving him to hold the bowl but offering the visual expression of attention to rest upon her. Hearing her state that she may think he was on part with the Imperial Queen. Not so sure he was believing that.
She was powerful.
The idea that the womb carrier had potentially hindered his education because of leery worry, but strong enough to accomplish what she wanted him to do without resistance was curious. Leaving him to spoon up a bit, cool it by breath and partake slowly on the means of nutrition. Thoughtfully remaining in thought whilst appreciating the heat and proper meat touching belly without the lingering worry that it was tampered. Considering the dirt and sparse grass around the outer portion of the hut, he wasn’t sure what to say in regards to her theory. Just, “If she was worried about me being potentially such a threat, would it not have been wiser of her to simply kill me off when I was too little to do anything potentially about it?” it was an overarching thought of course.
“I had siblings that were much stronger than me, in all ways. And I was nearly killed numerous times because of them when I was far too small to defend,” The long stretch of white upon his neck was a ever reminder of that. “I do not know if she would willingly keep something that could potentially harm her rule, her control. Even for bare amusement.” So admittedly he did not think he was strong or on par with Heirra in any means of the letter.
“My father – a person I have never met- was full Nokken and he perished at her hands. I do not know if fae blood is that potent to offer her a threat.”
“That is what makes it so… out of character,” she admitted. “It’s obvious that she has no love for anyone or anything. She might have taken lovers for the pleasures of it, yet to have so many children? Why have those children at all if she did not want heirs? Did not want threats to her crown?”
On him finally taking a proper bite of foot, it singled to Araminta it was at least cool enough by now her to scoop up a spoonful. A little too eagerly as without taking the time to blow on it a bit, the liquid was still scalding hot. Causing her to try and cool it while it was in her mouth and then giving up just as quickly to swallow. Simple and meager and satisfying – it was everything she needed in her stomach right now!
Araminta tried not to repeat another scalding swallow.
“She chose to have her children for a reason and it’s logic to assume that she allowed them to slay each other for her favor for a reason as well. If you are the only one to have survived, when it is so easy for her to reach out and harm you whenever she pleases… then that means there must be something uniquely special about you? Or surely she’d not have allowed you to be sitting here with me at all.”
“Were any of your other siblings fae?” she asked curiously. “At least of the ones you knew?”
That he could simply agree with. Offering a bare bone nod to suggest she was entirely correct. It was out of character for his egg donor. The more Araminta detailed it, the less it made any sense. Something he had never spent time thinking about because there was hardly a reason to do so prior. When he was under her thumb with allowing compliance, there was nothing to question. To think about.
Now that things weren’t under the entire control of the woman, there was empty space to allow the movement of thought.
Becoming momentarily curious when Araminta appeared to have become a huffing puffing creature because the meal was rather hot still but she was clearly hungry. Mentally spurring a smirk to his thoughts while taking a lot slower effort to eat himself. Not about to comment on her want to shovel it down. Merely content that she was eating at all.
And entertaining him with the depths of her mind in a verbal sense. Speaking about it all till there was that glaringly large question mark that likely neither of them were going to be able to answer.
“No.” Shaking his head to her question about the other siblings. “It seemed she always had a fancy for different races. I am not sure if it was an attempt to find the perfect child or just because she was akin to a person wanting every flavor of pie, but from my knowledge there were no siblings of other fae descent.” Pausing to take a new mouthful and let it be taken gingerly down to belly, “The eldest was human all the way through. Some of the others siblings were elf. Draconic.” While similar to fae he didn’t think they were classified the same league as his own. “There was rumour one had been half drow but I don’t think that was real. If it was, they had either escaped or were killed at some time.” Theon held a moment, “Orc.” He gave her a bit of a look then, “Yara. Somewhere in the middle she was. Probably most akin to the Imperial Queen in personality. Savage.” He shrugged then, “I do not know what many of the younger ones were. I was somewhere in the middle as well, but more of the older ones began to figure out that the easiest way of remaining alive was to slaughter the ones that couldn’t defend themselves. Most of the nannies were generally impassive and didn’t do a lot to stop anything.”
The man looked thoughtfully at his bowl, “It must have been hellish for those who worked in the palace. To bare witness to blood thirsty beasts that had no problem slaughtering others who were half their blood.”
Araminta listened intently, getting more wide-eyed by the minute. Imagine a woman with such insatiable appetites that she collected an entire harem of men and a whole brood of children! Then killing all their fathers and letting the children kill each other! It was so far out of Araminta’s imaginings that it was hard to believe. When she thought about having her own children, all she could think of was how lovely it would be to have several tiny little silly ones that she could love and play with and show so many beautiful things.
Theon never had the chance to experience how wonderful a family could be and it was so dreadfully sad. He seemed like the sort of man that would love them so much. If the way he behaved with her was any indication, he’d like grow into being such a kind and wonderful father.
“It does seem like she wanted a very specific sort of child,” she finally said. “Those that live in the Imperial Castle likely feel they are walking on paper thing ice all of the time. People so desperate would ignore many things just trying to make it through day with their own life in tact.”
Wretched woman. If Araminta started thinking too deep about it right now, she was going to get viciously furious again. Her fury wasn’t going to help herself, Theon, or anyone else. Not like this when there was yet not even a single clue of what could be done about the awful woman.
What had the Paladin Reeves said? His Lady of Light might create them a path to lead the way? She hoped his belief in such things were true. It had brought her and Theon back together again, so what was the harm in hoping and believing?
Her stew had finally tempered down cool enough for her to actually eat properly. At least now she’d slowed herself down as well to actually properly chew instead of being ridiculous enough to attempting swallowing down entire chunks of tubers and meat.
“Hmm.” He didn’t or couldn’t disagree that looking on the suggested verbalized evidence, the queen wanted someone very specific in her children. Then again, he heard stories that the woman was no more than well… as he called her to Gusteau… a whore. Tramping around simply for her own desires and if it bore a child, so be it. It wasn’t like she gave a crumb to them anyways.
He was silent for a moment but found himself trying to lean on that means of being open with Araminta. “Those who are not, do not last.” He added, “There was one woman that I had the benefit of knowing. And her misfortune too.” The man lingered in that statement in such a way that expressed he was likely going to tell Araminta something more but was pacing himself.
Searching for unpleasant memories most likely.
“We each had a nanny. As to be expected.” As stated, it wasn’t expected that the queen would rear her own children. Such a thing was probably a four letter word. “When I was almost killed by Yara,” he made a vague motion to the injury that had been scarred alongside his numerous other ones, “My nanny had gotten involved. Stopped it rather. Sparing my elder sister from successfully snuffing me out. In turn, the nanny was beheaded for her intervention.” Theon stared a moment, “I had to watch.” And so casually just took a spoonful then too as if what he had just revealed hadn’t added to the level of messy brains he possessed.
“Everyone is cautious and wise to keep their heads down. Now.”
It was an automatic thing that had her reaching up to touch gentle fingers to his scar. Not thinking it might be strange or he wouldn’t welcome such a touch, only wanting to see for herself the damage that was done so she could understand how deeply terrible his experience had been. He had a few notable scars that she’d seen, even fresh ones he’d received like his side from where she’d fallen on him. That scar might be the only one he had that came with a silly story instead of something painfully traumatic.
A snake threw a princess out of a tree. Who would believe such a thing.
It did help her understand why caring for someone also scared him. That woman protected him when he couldn’t protect himself and paid the price for it. What a horribly cruel thing to force a child through.
“I’m sorry you didn’t get to have the life a child should have. I’m sure she’d been delighted to know that the one she protected grew into someone kind instead of the sort of monster the Queen wanted.”
There was a soft consideration of her touch. A little surprised by it certainly but not to the point that he was instinctively flinching away. Merely wondering what she thought about it all without a need to ask about it. Although the added little bit after a moment earned more of a look than her gentle touch.
“I don’t even know what is a life a child should have.” Stating out that fact like no one could have figured that out by plenty of his behaviours. “Though maybe there is solace in that too. The latter, not the former.” Indicating he wasn’t talking about the first portion of her thoughts, “Though I don’t know if I am not entirely not a monster as the Queen wanted. There is plenty of things done at my hands that paints me just that.”
A low hum and then a soft tilt of head, “What is it that a royal child life is like then?” of course asking her as she was a royal child too!
“A lot of very boring studies for one,” she remarked wryly, remembering the hours upon hours of schoolwork she’d had to do. Her mother had valued their education above everything else and while she appreciated it now as an adult, she very much didn’t care for it as a child!
“It was a lot of playing. In the gardens and out in the fields. Climbing trees and building little forts. I liked trying to catch animals by the ponds and my siblings would swing sticks at each other, though not in any sort of mean spirited way. If we were being particularly pesky we might try to steal treats out of the kitchens or sneak off to the town when we were a little older. Those are the things children are supposed to do.”
All beautiful, bittersweet memories for Araminta now. Made even more bittersweet knowing Theon hadn’t had such opportunities himself. Truly, it made her want to take him places to travel and try new things all the more important. If they could get through all of the trials and away from his mother, there was no reason why she couldn’t show him all the joyous things in life.
Her meal disappeared quicker than she realized and now she was starting to regret having put so much in her bowl, as having a fully tummy was now doing her well – the way it should. Only it was making her lazily sleepy and sleep was the last thing she wanted to do!
“…and you are most certainly not a monster. I have seen monsters in many shapes now. To call you a monster would be saying the sky is lava.”
To hear the way one was to act as a child from the eyes of Araminta, it sounded very strange. But not in a bad way. More of a mystical sort of awe way that made him wonder idly if there would have ever been a chance for that in his own life. Knowing the glaring answer in that regard was an resonating no. He had to hide most of his time from one person or another. Avoiding being in their direct line of sight until he was old enough and his mother started sending him on whatever remaining children on missions to determine what they could do. Where he sailed the ocean with Talon, and the hope had been that they might try to maim or kill another.
Talon had been the only sibling that he knew that wasn’t driven to murder. Funny to think for the only draconic one in their messed up family.
He still didn’t know if he had perished or managed to get away somehow.
“It sounds like it was a nice childhood.” He admitted having been settled by how much he had eaten and was unbothered to have any more. Searching for something that might have been pleasant to give back to Araminta in the way that he wasn’t such a obvious degenerate in some sort. Finding nothing coming to mind. So having to settle with offering her nothing.
Instead she was still trying to temper him and he found himself softening in such a way that it could have been a motion for intending smiling. “Maybe one day I might be able to believe such things but that may not be for a very, very long time.” He motioned that he would take her bowl then, “I need to still wash up properly at the creekside, if you would be willing to mind the rest if possible. If not, then I will do the clean up when I return.”
Oh. Oh he very nearly almost maybe gave the very shadow of a smile. Immediately prompting Araminta into such an automatic wide, soft smile of her own. One that actually met her eyes this time and wasn’t just a sad pantomime of an expression. It might take a very long time for him to believe it true, but luckily for them both Araminta had no where else to be. She could wait. And truly hoped she was there when Theon finally found his peace.
“I can do the tidying here. It will be nice to do something simple and domestic so I might quiet my thoughts. I’ll give some water to our tree and make a comfortable spot for you to sleep.”
Eventually she would be able to charm him to sleep in an actual bed. For the time being, Aramina figured she could at the very least create a cozy corner of pillows and blankets if he’d not lay down on a bedroll.
With a soft confirmation, he would at least take the bowls indoors so he could play trade with collecting that of new attire for dishes. Making a quick slip back out that would allow him to leave her comfortably within the hut. Sure that they didn’t have to worry about anything attacking them here. From his knowledge, the Queen had never known about this place. It wouldn’t have been important to know or so inconsequential that it wasn’t likely she cared.
Maybe that might change, but he couldn’t be sure.
The means of cleaning up was relatively short. Assuring that he was at least scrubbed and freshened, letting his wrists even under the bandages soothe in the cool water for a bit. But otherwise there was little reason to prolong the time. With the cold water, he wasn’t about to expend effort more than what he was already doing.
Coming back soon enough that he’d return to knock lightly on the door as not to impose upon the young woman.
He always knocked, which Araminta found such a sweet and silly thing to do. When it was just the two of them it seemed wholey unnecessary… even moreso when this was his own secret home to begin with!
Araminta had done exactly what she’d said she would. She cleaned up the dishes as well as the outside fire. Took what was left of the stew to transfer into a different container, certain it would keep well enough overnight with the cooler weather and likely taste even better in the morning as a filling breakfast. The cauldron was cleaned out to be put away and straightened up the hut itself as dust had collected here and there since their absence.
She shooed away all the spiders especially. Theon might not ever want to see another spider again if he could help it, even the little small harmless ones. They could roost themselves outside!
There was the smallest of fires started so they’d be toasty and warm during the night. Building him a bed nest on the other hand, was not yet completed so she still had a blanket draped over her arm when she opened up the door for him to let him inside.
“You’ll have to sleep more than just a catnap if you can,” she instructed. “Since you were away so long, I’m guessing no one was there to fuss you into sleeping.”
Assuring that nothing had occurred or that Araminta may have been indecent to switch over to that of her more suitable night attire, he of course would knock. Putting aside the clothing that would be considered dirty nearby the front entrance of the abode so he could attend to that in the daylight hours. Wanting to assure they could be washed in hot water once more and ready to be used again in the future seeing as his stock of clothing was limited to the gray tunic and trousers and then the off teal one that was switched too now.
It seemed she truly had been busy attending to the efforts of cleaning up. Not to say either of them were so terribly dirty that lengthy means of doing so had to be applied.
Just that the place was readied for the ease of resting, yet in barely a manner of seconds he heard her. Speaking up in that same sort of way that was mentioning his poor routine that was favourable to catnapping rather than deep sleeps. Not even sure he knew how to really do so anyways but knew she was likely to keep at that nudging effort out of concern for his well being. Which usually he would have been resistant too but once more the means of the abode and its location was enough to allow him a bit of a lowered guard.
“No one would attempt to besides yourself.” Theon remarked, almost dryly but looked to the started arrangement of bedding, “It would be good for yourself as well. To regain strength and such. Once both of us are properly rested, I can mend a bit more tomorrow for you as well. It would do you well to be agile and quick thinking for that of the trials still to continue, yes?”
Strangely or was he having a bit of clairvoyance, the red headed prince looked again at the place she was setting up. “Do you wish to sleep beside another then?” As he may be figuring that her mind could use the knowledge of someone literally beside her. “I know you enjoyed physicality after the time with you, and it does not bother me as it would for others. If this would aid you?”
Theon seemed a bit more refreshed now after a good dunking in the cold stream, giving her a sense of easy… even if asked a question that hit a little too close to her present predicament.
“Oh, I’m not tired,” she lied, painfully obvious too, which was why she was quickly turning away so he wouldn’t be seeing it all over her face. Focusing instead on making on nice nest for him.
Though it did give her enough pause to consider the offer as she did so. Theon actually wanting to lay down in a bed was a good big step for him. The fact she was even resisting sleep herself was such a silly thing, Araminta knew, especially when she was trying so often to help Theon through his fears. Yet it was different, wasn’t it? He was terrified of being crept up on and murdered in his sleep. Araminta just knew as soon as she drifted away the nightmares would start again, as they had the past few days… actually, past weeks ever since she’d been able to dream again.
Actually, that made it all the more silly. At least Theon had a legitimate reason to be afraid.
Stopping with a sigh, hugging that blanket in her arms, her mouth twisted this way and that as she tried to mull it over. Finally turning to cast him a sort of chagrined, wry look.
“…I am a little scared.”
The attempt she made to lie to him about being tired, it was what she said before. Like telling him the sky was made of lava and earned swiftly that referenced look she talked about earlier. That stare he gave her whenever he thought she was doing something silly. Not sure why she was attempting to hide the obvious but not about to shame her for it either. There was enough loud evidence to why she might attempt to say such outlandish things. Prompting him further to then make an offer that was foreign to him.
Alas he would step over his own fears for a night as he was worn. Needing to expressively rest rather than do the soft dozing that could spring up and ready for a fight if necessary. And there was no need for Araminta to play guard as he doubted in all the nicest ways he could, that she would even be ready to do so either. She’d been through hell and back like an express carriage! The foolish idea that she would stay awake was just that. Foolish.
A waiting game this was as he took to observing her in muted patience. Once her features were returned to being fully seen, the arrangement of her comely features wobbled to and fro. Eventually casting the verdant rings upwards with an statement that had him not remotely surprised.
“It’s okay to be scared.” Theon remarked casually, “If it would make you more comfortable then the offer is present. And no need to trick either of us into it. You need to rest so your body can regain its strength as well.” The man turned as if something had beckoned his attention but merely wandered a bit a-ways to look into the small spot where a few of the collected bits of leaves and flowers and such were dried. Contemplating, “It is no tea but there is something I could make if you wish that could calm your nerves and potentially help. It would be bitter and unpleasant to drink,” Eyes moved over his shoulder to her, “If that is something you wish?”
“I have eaten fish balls and beetles, a bitter tea will be simple to swallow,” she answered cheekily, still a bit wary at all about sleeping. Araminta did nod, though. Scared or not, they both needed to get some proper rest somehow. If she didn’t at least try, she was liable to pass out somewhere on the road and be an entire problem all over again.
Still, it was frustrating to be this scared over something so small. With so many awful memories waiting to pour out into a swirl of chaotic mayhem. Knowing her imagination was creative enough during the waking hours, that it was so much worse when it had free reign and no control during slumber.
Araminta tucked her dark ebony hair behind her eyes and set her attention to now rearranging her nesting so they could both have a comfortable spot on the bedroll near the fire. Eventually a proper bed would be in order, but this would not be uncomfortable thanks to the things she’d stashed away in the hut.
Eventually plopping down onto her chosen spot to cross her arms, unable to hide that pensive, surly on her face.
“Beetles?” He looked at her then as he was certain he had not know about her dining on any crawly bug on the floor. “I do not wish to know.” Adding on in case she felt the need to elaborate! Turning instead to fish around in the minor bits of things they had within to locate a small tin cup. Then the mortar and pestle that was used and cleaned thoroughly each time prior.
Collecting the things that would be useful to use while conducting that of what would be required for the bitter liquid. Merely stepping outside to the bucket that had been collected with some water to scoop into the cup. Using that of the coals from the fire outside to heat it up extensively before taking the slightly battered and crunched leaves into the hot liquid. Letting it steep so he could go back in and grab the other cup that would be needed for the drink without the bits and pieces of vegetation.
Eventually he would have gotten it all together only to return with the cooler cup and finding Araminta on the selected bed spot. Looking rather upset in new ways. Urging him to kneel down on the side to offer, “Here. It may take a little bit to work but it should help.” The man was strangely tempted to reach out and smooth away the bundled nerves that were scrunched up on her features. “Things will get better, yes.” Posing it as a question that wasn’t a question, Theon simply waited for her to take the drink so he could get back up and assure that the door and single window in the place was secure.
Smoothing back the red looks in their slow drying process till he was soothed enough to think they were safe for this night.
Fed. Cleaned. Comfortable, soon to slumber too. But first he wanted to make sure Araminta was able to stomach the drink even a little bit so he could put it aside and assure she was snuggled into the efforts of her arranged bed placement.
It was rare that Araminta ever had such surly sort of irritation to her. Which wasn’t to say she never got angry… the princess just wasn’t the sort of person who got that sort of upset about things. Seeming to only hit those levels in moment someone was truly terribly horrible… like at the wicked queen and all of her ill deeds!
This was a different sort of frustration. Born out of being so tired of crying over things and being overwhelmed with everything. Had she been thinking rationally, she’d realize it was literally because she was so tired and needed the rest that she was so cranky about it in the first place. A simple solve for a simple problem.
Taking the cup in her hands, Araminta avoided giving it a sniff, knowing that wouldn’t help her swallowing if it turned out to smell awful. On that first drink of the concoction, she pulled a sour face. Momentarily debating if it was actually worth the drinking at all, to have such an awful taste! Luckily for herself and Theon’s attempt at helping she’d never really had an issue with eating bizarre things. A stomach of steal and tastebuds to match.
Though she absolutely drank it in as few quick swallows as she could, for it was certainly vile.
“Things will get better,” she agreed, even if she was still wrinkling up her nose. Now shifting to pull back blankets to make space for him to sit and lay down with her.
He was almost ready to catch her in case she decided to get springy when the taste of the drink touched her tongue. Thankfully with her strong will and general stubbornness, she made it disappear in a few fell swallows. Seemingly looking to him after a moment for him to offer to take the cup away. Wanting to keep it aside before returning and hearing her agree with a stronger press that things would get better.
Watching as she adjusted and made it clear about the means of him climbing aboard to settle down. Almost giving the plushness of the bedding a concerned look. Not sure how she could manage to make it so but he wasn’t about to pull back his suggestion now.
Removing footwear and such before rounding the way to where she had indicated he was to come and settle down. Taking to first sitting rather than just plopping over. So he could investigate the softness like it was liable to reach out and snap him into cushy jaws. Once it was clear that wasn’t about to happen, he made an obvious motion that she was to lay down as well. Shortly making the slow controlled fall to do so and feeling admittedly weird about it.
How people got accustomed to beds, he would never know.
Were she not so wrapped up in her own frustration, she would’ve taken a soft delight in Theon’s general distrust of anything plush and comfortable. A bit of sadness for it too, for how terrible it was for someone to go through their entire life not having the chance, or the safety to enjoy something as simple as blankets and cushioning. For now she simply grabbed up the edges of the quilt she’d procured to pull up over their legs and tucked in Theon in loosely.
The princess plopped onto her own back with far less grace and delicacy. …wincing as she did so, having forgotten she was still very much battered and bruised, with a long way to go before proper healing. If she could physically fight sleep, she would’ve done so. Yet with the way her whole being was already trying to shut down on her, it would’ve been a losing battle.
She rolled to face Theon, that soft frown on her face. Reaching to give gentle squeeze to his arm.
“If I scream I’m sorry. Or if I hit you, I am very sorry. …If I become a shrieking night banshee, I’m not sorry. Set me loose in the Imperial Castle and I’ll gleefully wreck havoc.”
It was a good thing this was no mattress and that he was not a small person, sure that when she flopped over with no decorum or grace, he may have been thrown out otherwise. Instead he wasn’t tossed out like yesterday’s trash but rather found her to be wincing. Likely hurting somewhere that he couldn’t see. Something he would need to mend so she wouldn’t have to be wandering around feeling like she was thrice her age due to such injuries. Wishing he had the strength to do so now but alas that was not the cards. Lately he had been severely overdoing the whole mage aspect and was learning promptly just how limited his resources were because of his lack of knowing.
A thought that was. One that could be picked at privately.
As she rolled to face him –himself doing the same as not to be a coffin dweller just looking up at the ceiling, merely missing crossed arms to forbid dark spirits from coming to possess- he found her reaching out.
And giving a tale that at first seemed apologetic and promptly turned into an attempt to be comical. “I would prefer not to.” The idea of unleashing her anywhere was not even a thing to be present in any minds. Rather, the man decided to try to brooch some of his own insecurities. Shifting a little as to be a sturdy wall and motioned lightly at first. “Just come closer and stay near. You need to rest and if you are flopping around like a fish, it will only irritate your injuries.” Knife bright rings were soft upon her, “As I said, I’ve become aware that you like to be physical with others. It is something I do not offer to any one else.”
Araminta was not so sure he realized how ridiculously scandalous it sounded to say she liked to be physical, prompting a short huff that might’ve been a giggle had she not stopped herself. Instead having a silent proud moment that he’d become comfortable enough to give her instruction without a question in his tone or asking if it were okay to even do so. Leaving her easily obeying without putting up even the tiniest of fuss. Scooting close enough that she could tuck her head under his chin if she wanted, but preferring to spy at him for the moment.
Doubting he realized most of her physicality had only been directed at him or cute fuzzy animals. Only because she knew he needed someone to give him those gentle affections so that he might finally be allowed to be human instead of someone’s tool.
Though, if she were honest with herself much of it too was for her own selfish benefit. He was someone safe she could be close to.
“Less fish like and more squirmy squid. There will be no stopping my flopping,” she deemed to murmur. “You might try hugging cerulean snails, however. They were lovely bedmates.”
Her little huff was enough to warrant a wondering look. Not so sure he was liable to clue in to what could have been moving in her thoughts at all. Although if she was liable to start asking questions in that region, she might have been surprised to learn things further of him. Instead there was no vocalized queries, just her slipping closer to make herself seemingly comfortable. Giving him the silent go ahead that he was ready to adjust and lay down properly that the alcove of chin and neck was plenty open for that placement if she wanted.
Making use of arm that didn’t coil behind his own head to reach and affirm that she was properly covered. Lightly patting once or twice till he dropped grasp over and seemed plenty fine with their positioning.
“You may be surprised what presence of another will do to one’s flopping.” Stating this almost as if he knew more than he was letting on. Tilting no sooner to look down that of nose at her suggesting hugging those fuzzy critters that had followed Matilda around. “I will leave that to you. For now since there are no furry snails nearby, this will have to suffice. I am not fuzzy or furry in that way either, so hopefully this will be suitable enough. If it is not, simply tell me. I will not inconvenience or hinder you.” After all, he was far more comfortable sleeping sitting up with his back against the walls. So he couldn’t be snuck up on. It wouldn’t take much for him to assure that she was neatly cozy within her constructed bedding and settling elsewhere seeing as he was as stated, no cerulean snail.
Aware at this point her affection for creatures was immense.
While it was no down feathered mattress with all the sinking softness that would’ve done her weary bones a world of good, this nest she’d made was comfortable enough. Made moreso by a heavy quilt and Theon’s arm adding that added pressure of gently being squished. And though he wasn’t fuzzy and furry, he was warm. Smelling of fresh spring water and the woods, which was comforting in it’s own sort of way. Still she was fighting that sleepiness, unsure if it was just her own self giving way to it or if that drink he’d given her was taking effect. Realizing quietly she hadn’t even asked him what it did. Having trusted him that much to just drink it down without even a question.
“What do you know of flopping, Theon. One doesn’t flop when sitting propped up in corners like a gargoyle,” There was no mischief or accusation in the question, simply sleepy observation. Finally curling herself up close enough to have nose near to skin and her hands pulled up to her chest. Hoping it was enough of a buffer than she didn’t accidentally kick him in the night.
Araminta hadn’t ever actually slept with a person so close before now that she thought about it. Maybe when she was little and crawled into the bed of one of her family members when she was scared. Little ones didn’t care whose shin they kicked or whose face they were elbowing, however!
“Enough.” A simple reply to her quip about what did he know of it anyways. He knew what nightmares did, and the panic of trying not to sleep at all. How you’d end up fighting that nodding feeling with jerking and flailing limbs. Only to lose the battle and be set into a world of your own mental holds. Where things that were already frightening in reality, became much worse. Much more animated. So much more of every scared feeling. It was fed, grew and tortured till your only escape was hoping your body forced you back into reality! Awake with any sort of damn twitch, scream or worse attached to it.
“You’ll be alright.” Lowering tone to more of a mumble as she sunk in. Hoping that the drink was working to make her feel properly drowsy past the point that she could effectively fight it. If he was lucky, she’d just be dreamless with the arrangement of drink made. Something to give her a chance to just rest.
Tucking his chin to rest upon her crown as an added form of touch, just peering into the flickering dark. She would be alright, it would just take time. As much as one’s own psyche could be the true villain, he had absolute fate that Araminta was strong enough to overcome it in due time. It just would be a process and so long as she didn’t fight it tooth and nail, it would be managed.
Pulling the quilt up to insist on covering shoulders, he could wait till she started doing that twitching thing to ensure she had taken a proper dip into slumber.
Araminta might’ve fussed a little more, but he’d said she’d be alright with such a quiet sweet softness that any fight left in her evaporated. Her response being nothing but a mumbled hum, unclear if it were a disagreement or affirmation. That tension in her was gone, though, making her nothing more than a puddle of sleepy princess finally nestling in.
He needed her to be okay, she knew. So she was just going to have to make it true.
Once she’d finally stop struggling against it, it didn’t take long for the draught and her own exhaustion to take over. Silently grateful that he was so warm and the nest she’d made them was so cozy. The gently crackling fire and that ever so faint beating of his heart. It almost made that nightmarish dungeon of cold stone, damp floor, and wailing voices feel as if it’d happened a lifetime ago instead of literal hours.
Aside from one or two small moments where she’d suddenly jump because the fire popped, or some subconscious part of her knew she was about to drift, it was finally clear she was out when her breathing slowed to deep even breaths and her own heartbeat fell into a steady rhythm.
Stubborn.
It was a good descriptor of the princess from the mountains. Seemingly wanting to fight further the need for sleep like a particularly fussy toddler that was being put to bed but had other ideas in mind. Wanting to stay up with the adults because that was where the comfort was. While sleep certainly could be frightening, it was not about to be the means of a diabolical end either! It would be alright and as stated, she needed it.
There would be no way for her body to start its means of repairing itself if the most natural thing to them as mortals, was denied. A lot of hypocrisy in that very thought considering he was notoriously terrible about it as well.
One night would hardly be so problematic, surely.
Once the means of her stopped twitching in fright and began to even out to where slumber was a brawny beast demanding to take over, he was able to settle as well. A delicate feat that was not a deep sleep. He rarely did even when he was sleeping, it was light. Years of work that made sure he wasn’t about to be caught unaware and his general terrible quiescent habits were bound to make it hard to do. So long as they could at least catch a couple z’s, then it would be enough.
Having to rely that for one night, they were safe. They could be unperturbed and start climbing back that means of strength to rebel, fight and act like a boulder in future plans of a Imperial Queen turned demon.