Your breathing is painful. It aches to move or to inhale too hard. You're surrounded on all sides by trolls, each and every one of them covered in filth, whether it be mud, soot, or the blood of other lowbloods such as themselves. Some of them have flecks of your precious violet on them.
You had been sent to take the most wanted troll to the Empress herself. You had told her this isn't what you were meant to do and the job of a bounty hunter was far below you, but she insisted. She just had to have him and she promised you a higher rank if you just did her this one little favor, the rank of being in a quadrant with her.
You had listened to her and you went searching through lowblood towns, seeking out the one the people call the Signless.
However, you had been ambushed by one of the lowest bloodcaste towns you came to, the people accusing you of being a murderer, killing lusii and grubs alike. They tore your weapons from you, ripped at your fins, threw you down to kick and defile your gills with mud and filthy claws.
That's where you are now, gasping like a fish thrown on the deck, trolls standing around you as they snarl names at you, some of them with weapons out, ready to strike if you so much as move. Your body ached and you were just barely curled up on yourself. You don't know why you didn't bring some of your men with you, this whole town would be for ghosts if you did.
You coughed, violet sputtering out of your mouth from your kicked gills. A lowblood laughs and goes to kick you again before one of the most soothing voices you have ever heard in your entire life shouts out a 'stop'.
Within a few minutes of talking that your mangled fins strain to hear, the group disperses, or, at least they move out of your line of sight. Gentle hands lift your head onto a soft lap, while some other hands lift up your shirt to assess your gills. Your eyes are closed, fearing more pain. Your body was tensed, waiting for it, but instead the voice told you that it was ok now. You won't be harmed any more.
You don't believe a word of it and, just as you open your good eye to say that, you are struck by the loveliest pair of eyes. Sure they were a red that screamed rebellion, but they held you captive and you found yourself, without even meaning to, falling horns over heels for them.