I do not own the Inheritance Cycle.
This story is about the character Dunion from my story; Lirouratr. I've wanted to write about him since the moment I introduced him in Lirouratr. I did this apart from the main story because I didn't want the two of them together that would be too much, intertwining them like that. Anyhow this is a bit different from Lirouratr, and something I think I will enjoy writing it. This story can stand on its own, but you'll understand it better if you have read Lirouratr.
I do not own the song.
Review if you have a moment to do so.
And enjoy,
Chapter One
There was once a time, long ago, when his father had told him of his grandfather; a man who was tall and proud. It was his pride that caused him to seek a better life, and as he sought for this better life he was murdered. His murderer hadn't killed him for riches, for he had very little of it nor was he killed for his actions, he was kind man, no, he had been killed by mistake. His grandfather's death was unwarranted and pitiful, much like his success in life, by the Laws of the King an innocent man had died for crimes he had not commented. Unlike his grandfather, whose name he shared, Dunion was not so innocent.
He had killed, yes, but he hadn't meant to do it, not the first time at least. He was thief but only because he hadn't had much of a choice, it was that or starve. He had made mistakes, done wrong, known what he was doing while he did it, and the sickening disappoint his father would be bound to have if he were alive, but he couldn't stop. Dunion hadn't the will to stop, and so he continued.
He looked over the lady, she stood proud in front of him, a vase in her hand held high in readiness to strike. Its contents lay on the ground in a small puddle of water, tiny yellow and pink petals from which a sweet smell drifted. She looked ready to scream for help, and Dunion couldn't hide the smile that flickered across his lips. She wouldn't dare, or she shouldn't at least.
Dunion fingered his long hunting knife, twisting it a bit so that its red stained blade flickered in the dimmed light. Pulling the strap of his sidesack closer to his chest, he looked her over. The sight of her was delightful, a lean and trim figure covered by a thin delectate lace nightgown, he could see the parting of her legs in the glowing light streaming through the window. After so many nights alone with no other company than a dog and men he allowed the slim figure of her to burn an image in his mind.
She opened her mouth. There it was. She was going to scream, and find that no one would come. Pity.
Only she did not. "Pl-please don't," she said, it was more of a whisper. "Please, I'll give you anything. Gold!" She gasped as he came closer. "Plea-please! Papa has gold! Lots of gold! That's what you want isn't it?"
Oh, why, yes, Dunion wanted gold, but not as much as he wanted to see her squirm. At least for a time. "Aye," he said in a cold voice. "I want yer gold." She visibly relaxed. "Jest not at this moment."
Her big brown eyes widened even more, something he didn't think was possible, and she backed away from him until she was corned against a wall. "Please," she kept whispering. "Please, don't. Dear Seigfrida blessed sister of Muir the divine, protect me. Don't let him do this." She was praying now. How pathetic. "Protect me from this wickedness that wishes to taint my blood. Please, Seigfrida the protector, watch over me. Pl-please. Please! Please!" The last part of her begging prayer was hissed out as she bit back a sob.
Dunion couldn't help the annoyed sigh that escaped him. Why were women so pathetic, in their belief that some divineness was going to swoop down from the skies and save them? It was very tiring. No wonder the noble women needed their father to ensure they would be wed, and even less wonder that it was generally men as old as their father who married them.
"No one's comin'," said Dunion drawing closer. "And no one's listenin' ter yeh, so shut yer mouth."
She continued in her prayer, and soon becoming hysterical in doing so, calling on more gods or saints and protectors. In an attempt to shut her up, Dunion slammed both of his hands on either side of her face. She screamed and backed even further into wall, her hitched breath warm as it ran across his face. The vase, which she must have forgotten about until now, rose and she swung it at him. He jumped back, and with a quick movement he smashed it with the flat of his blade. Tiny blue chards whipped across the room and landed on the ground with tiny little tings that echoed in the empty massiveness. She whimpered.
"Please," she tried again but Dunion had heard enough, and his hand quickly closed around her mouth.
He glared at her through his eyelashes. "I said ter shut yer mouth, you noisy wench."
She was hardly a wench, he knew, her loosen hair and fearful eyes told him that she was maiden, completely pure. She was young and probably charming, with a cheerful smile and a love of lays and romance, dancing in the sunlight and weaving crowns of flowers, and it was likely that she thought he was going to take all that away from her.
He let her go, and backed away. It was not his right to mark her as his and then leave her to a life as an outcast- he didn't want her, and he definitely couldn't afford to give her what she wanted in life. Blast it! He could hardly keep the bellies of his siblings full.
She whimpered again, and this time he reached into his side bag and pulled out a sachet, a roughly sown sack filled with sleeping herbs, and he forced it against her face. "We never meet," he said in a low voice. It took time, and he gained new scratches and bruises that he didn't really need, but she fell into a black sleep. Dunion picked her up then, and carried her to, what he thought to be, her room, the one she had scrabbled out of when he entered. She had ran a good ways down the halls and through several grand rooms before Dunion had cornered her, and she picked up that useless vase.
He set her down on a plush bed in the middle of a high walled, luxurious room, and then pulled the cover over her. He left the room then and returned to the dining room. Once there he picked up the vase pieces and opened the shuttered window and threw them out along with the flowers. He didn't want anyone to think that he might have touched her, that lady, whoever she was. It didn't really matter, but she seemed to him to be around the age as his sister, as soon as he realized this he knew he was in trouble and he couldn't truly harm her.
After the room was sort of picked up, he didn't want to waste much time cleaning it when hadn't the time to waste, he shuffled through the manor, bagging the most valuable goods he saw, or at least they looked valuable, though they weren't what he was looking for.
The manor was big, bigger than any he had ever gone in before, and very colorful. The colors almost made him sick. It took him some time to find it, but he did and tucked it into a tied pocket in his shirt. He was going to thank Thelma in some grand way for thinking of sewing that in for him.
When he left the house it was in the darkest, coldest part of the night, and he was almost sad to have to leave the sheltering walls of the manor behind. He went the way he came, through a small port hole that was completely unguarded, and traveled up a hill and down a winding trail, until the manor wasn't in sight anymore.
"Oy!" someone yelled. Dunion gritted his teeth and bit back a curse. "Dunion! Did yeh get it?"
"Hush, yerself, yeh big lout," he growled. "Them shields will hear yeh."
Nerth gave him a humored looked. "Did yeh see Trahern when yeh was in there?"
"Nay," he said, thankful that he hadn't. "He an't come out yet?"
Nerth shook his blond head, and looked up at the walls. "How much longer, do yeh think?"
Dunion shrugged. As if he knew! Trahern was always changing plans, and corning women; who knew what it was that he was doing, but it wasn't leaving that was for sure. For a moment Dunion thought worriedly over the lady he left in her bed, then shrugged. He didn't do it.
"Let's go," he said.
"Yeh sure? Trahern an't gonna be too happy knowing we left him."
"We'd all be less happy if we stayed and got caught."
Nerth saw reason in those words and grunted in agreement.
It didn't take them too long to get to their encampment, they took a short cut, and they heard where it was before they saw it. Long, bays filled the night air before they got there, and soon they were greeted by a small dog with soft, floppy ears. She barked at them happily, and then whined until Dunion leaned down and greeted her. "Hey, girl," he said scratching Wolf behind the ears. After she was satisfied with his greeting, she rolled over onto her back, her tail wiggling between her legs but Dunion was going to have none of that, and he patted her on her belly and stood up to walk away. Wolf rolled back onto her feet and followed after him, her nose pressed firmly to the ground as she sniffed in huffing snorts.
Wolf had found him two years ago, when he and his youngest sister were returning home from the town market. Abagail had been talking about what she was going to sew out the fabric they had bought, he remembered because it had bore him to tears. They had gotten into an earlier argument in which he stated that she should be simpler, less wild and more like the women in town, and this was something he later regretted. He didn't remember her exact words but he thought she meant to make herself a dress, and she was going on about the different designs and the latest fashions, something she knew almost nothing about but had likely heard from Thelma, when something growled at them. Their first thought was that it was a wild beast, and Dunion had quickly drawn his weapon and shouted at the thing to scam. The thing did not, it growled again, and then leaped at them. Abagail had screamed, and dropped the fabric in a puddle of muddy water before running a little up the road, more out of surprise than anything. Dunion had simply stared at the dog, it was a small thing, that barely reached his knee in height, and its fur was so filthy he didn't know what color it originally had been and full of sticking barbs, and it had the saddest eyes he had ever seen. It had growled again, and Dunion reached into his bag, unknowing what he was doing, and pulled out a slice of meat which he tossed to the thing. That was a big mistake, because after the dog ate the meat it followed him home. The only reason he had allowed the dog to stay was because he had been overruled, by both of his sisters, his little brother, and Namma, and he cursed them for it. Abagail had been quick to crown the dog the name 'Wolf' for the scare it gave her, and Cai had laughed about it for a week, because of how much Wolf did not look like a wolf, in the boy's eyes it was hysterical. Ever since Wolf had been a part of the family, and it followed Dunion around everywhere he went, she was always at his heels, always a company and he was grateful not to have to travel alone, when he wasn't with these thugs that is.
Parlan, a doughy man with one eye, was sitting by the fire poking the wood below the flames with a smoking stick, humming a silly tune. He looked up when they entered the encampment. "Ai oh," he said in a singsong voice. "How'd it go? Did cha git whatcha needed?"
Dunion nodded, looking at Parlan warningly and the humming stopped. "Trahern come back?"
Parlan shook his plump head, and returned to his poking, singing softly under his breath;
Lady, I am one who truly endures
Your wishes, so long as I can truly endure;
But do not think that I can endure it for long
Without dying since you are so hard on me,
As if you wanted to drive me away
So I should never see your gently body, which has such worth
That you are of all good woman the best.
The man wasn't a good singer, so the tune and pitch was off, his voice crackled even at a whisper. But Nerth had sat down beside him and joined him the song, with the two of them together it sounded like a deathly screeching more than a singing. But that was Nerth, the man was willing to make a fool of himself to indulge his friends.
Alas! Thus I imagine my death
But the pain I shall have to endure
Would be sweet if I could only hope,
That before my death you let me see you again.
Dunion sat down also, Wolf lay down beside him, pulling out his blade to clean it with a scrap of cloth, letting the ill-used song wave over him. Every so often he held up the sharp blade of the hunting knife to the firelight to examine it, it glistened in the red glow. He kept his mind trained on his work, empty of all thought, until the blade was clean of blood. Then he stood up and swung the blade through the air.
"It still working, Dunion?" He started slightly and grinned at the jest. "Er did it stop working somewhere inside that noble place?"
"I'm thinking it stopped working," he said. "Want ter find out if I'm right?"
Nerth grinned and shook his head. "Not terday if yeh don't mind."
"I don't."
Dunion shrugged and went to his pack, Wolf got up and followed him, where he sat down, leaning against the packs and closed his eyes. The ground was cold and slightly wet beneath him, and the air had a deathly feel to it, the wind so cold it nipped at his bare skin, numbing his fingers and face. The trees overhead looked like long, crooked boney fingers reaching out in the dark night, the stars were a soft silver light blazing coldly above as they watched those beings below toil endless. He clenched his cloak around him and turned over, willing sleep to come his way. He slept alone that night, only with Wolf as warmth, the dog had huddled inside his cloak, on that cold, hard wet ground, until the sun rose in layers of grey, then pink and orange, and lastly a flawless blue.
Life hadn't always been like this for Dunion, there once a time when he had slept in a warm bed away from fear and hate and destruction but that time was gone now, and he could no longer afford to think of it. But that was where his problems started, in his thinking, though the man no longer wished to think of reality, it kept coming back to him, like Wolf had when she first found him. Reality was an unpleasant issue, full of bitterness, that he wished to escape, but knew he could not.