Note/Disclaimer: this story has seven perspective characters and some chapters take place simultaneously, so apologies if it's confusing as hell. I tried my best. Knowing the premise of Sense8 will likely help make sense of things, but it isn't necessary to understand - this is very much just a Dragon Age: Origins fanfic, featuring all of my Wardens. Updates will probably be my usual erratic nonsense, but please keep in mind that these chapters are long, and I am slow.
I own nothing, and continue to pursue writing simply as a hobby while making absolutely no money.
Rhian Tabris rolled over onto her stomach with a groan, barely registering that doing so caused her arm to drape over the bed, her hand brushing the cold floor. She didn't move, even as she felt lips trail along her ear, slowly moving down to her neck and along her jawline.
"Good morning, sunshine," came a soft murmur.
She groaned again and drowsily swatted at the air, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep, but the world seemed to have other plans. The thin walls of the dilapidated shack she called home did almost nothing to drown out the noise of the outside world – the unmistakable daily sounds of city life. Rhian kept her eyes adamantly shut, determined to ignore it as best she could. After the ordeal that had been last night… Maker knows she could use the sleep.
Somehow, despite the fact that she'd been expecting it – that they had all been expecting it ever since Eisa's own Harrowing just a few months ago – there would always be something incredibly jarring about being happily asleep one moment, and the next finding oneself pulled into the Fade without any warning, in order to best a pride demon. But this was the price she paid for being connected in such an intimate way to mages, she supposed. At least now she knew she wouldn't have to go through it again. Both Ellis and Eisa were fully fledged mages of the Circle now.
The lips returned then, this time accompanied with a hand that gently caressed her shoulder, fingertips following the contours of her body as they made their way down her back. Rhian shivered slightly at their touch, suddenly hyper-aware as they trailed along her sensitive skin. And then, almost immediately, they disappeared, followed by a loud, tired sigh.
"Ah, I'm wanted. Back in a minute."
Rhian exhaled sharply and shifted, pulling the covers further over herself in some vague attempt to stave off the bitter cold. All she wanted was to go back to dreaming, drift away somewhere she wouldn't have to face the harshness of reality, even if just for a little while. She remained there, unmoving, waiting for sleep to take her once again.
A sharp knock quickly broke her out of her thoughts. Rhian's eyes immediately snapped open, revealing the small, somewhat cramped space she called a bedroom, and Shianni standing in the doorway, a huge grin plastered across her face.
"Hey," she called, too loudly for Rhian to ignore. "You awake?"
Rhian groaned and quickly disappeared under the blankets. "No. Absolutely not."
That earned her a shout of laughter, followed by the sound of footsteps and a sudden weight as Shianni crossed the room and sat down right at the end of the bed.
"Oh come on," Shianni called, clasping Rhian's shoulder and shaking her a little in an effort to urge her awake. "You don't want to sleep through your own wedding, do you?"
That got Rhian's attention. Immediately, she bolted upright, bursting out from her hiding place amongst a swath of blankets to stare at Shianni with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"Wedding?" she repeated blandly. "That can't- …he can't possibly be here already."
Shianni's grin, if possible, grew even wider. "Oh, but he is. He arrived last night."
What?
No.
No, this couldn't be happening. Not now. Not so soon after-
She fought a pride demon last night! Couldn't she have just one day to rest? Why did everything have to happen so soon, and always all at once? It wasn't fair. It was starting to seem like life simply would never be fair to her.
"No. No way. He can't have. I'd know."
She shrugged. "It was late. You'd already skulked off to bed."
"This can't be happening. I'm not ready!" Rhian had to stop herself from outright screaming, pulling her knees to her chest as her mind reeled.
Today? It couldn't be today. She wasn't ready. She was supposed to have at least a few more days, perhaps even a week. She was supposed to have more time. Now he was here and everything was happening so quickly she couldn't help but feel like her life was spinning wildly out of control.
"But… but!" she gasped, dragging her fingers through her hair. "But I- I have work!"
Shianni shook her head. "No, you don't. Valendrian organised someone to cover you, so you're fine. Relax."
Relax? How was she supposed to relax, with the knowledge that she was supposed to be getting married today so abruptly shoved upon her?
Frantically, she reached out, grabbing desperately at the other woman.
"Shianni, you have to do something," she gasped, looking at her pleadingly. "Put it off for a couple of days. Tell them I'm sick. Or I'm injured. Or I'm terrible wife material. Anything. I'm begging you."
Shianni rolled her eyes. "Oh, stop it; you'll be fine. I snuck a peek earlier. You're in luck – he's handsome."
Defeated, Rhian pulled back, grabbing the covers and disappearing beneath them like a petulant child while Shianni simply laughed.
"Come on," she urged one more time. "Get up."
"No," Rhian bit back, her tone low and sulky. "I refuse. I'll stay here forever and nothing can stop me."
"If it makes you feel any better, Soris has been quietly panicking all morning, too."
"You are so not helping."
She laughed. "Alright, alright. I'll stop tormenting you; I need to get ready. You should too. Oh, and Soris wanted to talk to you. Don't keep him waiting."
With that, Rhian felt the weight lift off from the end of her bed, followed by the sound of footsteps and the bedroom door quietly clicking shut. For what seemed like eternity, she didn't move, not wanting to engage with or even accept the reality of her situation. She remained adamantly curled up under the blankets, comfortable in her dark hiding place and perfectly content to remain there for the rest of eternity. She was sure her father wouldn't approve, but at that point, she didn't care. It was either stay in bed forever, or run away and join the Dalish.
Never had that option seemed so attractive.
"Ah, surprise weddings," a voice very unlike her cousin's drawled from somewhere above her. "Bet you're simply ecstatic."
Almost immediately, Rhian peeked out from underneath the covers, her eyes snapping to the corner of her room where Eugene was casually leaning against the wall, an amused smirk pulling at his lips.
She scowled. "Glad to see you're finding this so funny."
His smile did not fade. "After that performance? It's hard not to."
"Don't you have something dreadfully important to do, my lord? Or are you content to just stand there and laugh at me?"
He seemed mildly affronted by the very notion. "Excuse you. I would never dream of making light of a lady's misfortune."
"Eugene," she called his name in a warning tone, watching as he wilted slightly under her stern gaze.
"Look, I just wanted to make sure you're okay," he sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck a little anxiously – such a far cry from his usual demeanour of someone who simply oozed confidence. "Last night was… intense."
Rhian folded her arms and huffed a little. "Ellis passed his Harrowing just fine. Don't we have bigger things to worry about right now?"
The smile was back now. "Of course we do. Because what's a high stakes battle of wits with a pride demon compared to the unending horror of a wedding?"
She shot him a look at that, not really having the energy to indulge him right now. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other in response, not quite sure what to do with himself in the silence. Rhian couldn't exactly blame him; this was all very sudden and neither of them had been anticipating this morning as being their last opportunity to really be alone. Come nightfall, she'd have a husband to work around. That was, unless she managed to get away in time.
Eventually, Eugene shook his head and stretched, giving a huge yawn as he did. "I know what you're thinking. It's not going to work."
"I know they're out there. All I'd have to do is talk to Aneurin… I could do it. It'd work."
"Your plan is to coerce Aneurin into bailing you out? Doesn't he have enough to deal with already? Dalish life isn't exactly easy."
"What else am I supposed to do?"
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "Well, I don't know. You could always just meet your husband-to-be. Who knows? He might not be half bad."
Rhian groaned loudly and threw the covers off, stumbling to the chest where she kept her clothes, keenly aware of his eyes glancing appreciatively up and down her naked figure. For a moment, she paused, before cheekily glancing back over her shoulder.
"Like what you see, my lord?" she called back at him teasingly, careful to milk it for all it was worth.
Upon realising he wasn't being nearly as discreet as he'd thought, Eugene's face flushed a bright red, and he coughed a little awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck and swallowing hard. For what seemed like an eternity, he just watched her, struggling for words that never seemed to come. Rhian chuckled to herself and dived back into the chest, digging around in it until she found what she was looking for – the dress she'd been given for her wedding. It was a relatively simple looking thing; white and somewhat plain, its only real defining feature being some delicate beading along the neckline.
Behind her, Eugene seemed to snap back into reality and made his way over, leaning over her shoulder to look at her wedding dress himself.
"Cute," he commented, his hand gently clasping her shoulder as he leaned over a little further and began to gently kiss her neck.
Rhian let out a quiet moan and arched her neck slightly, trying and largely failing to focus on what she was supposed to be doing.
"Eugene," she murmured his name, reaching up and tangling her fingers amongst his hair. "Eugene, I can't… I should be…"
She trailed off into silence as he pulled her in closer, his lips making their way back up to her cheek. Rhian let out a quiet exhale and twisted around to kiss him properly. For a moment, they remained like that; tangled up in each other, lips locked, broken only when she pulled herself back, gasping for air.
"Why are you so…" she began to ask a little breathlessly, only to trail off once again, lost in his embrace.
"Just…" he began, his voice quiet and strangely hoarse, "just let me have this. Before you're lost to me forever. Please."
"I'm not going anywhere," she replied softly, leaning in close, her cheek brushing against his. "I'm still here. I'll always be here. You haven't lost me."
Did he really believe that? Did she? In that moment, Rhian honestly couldn't tell. Like her, he'd thought there would be more time. They had both assumed they would still have a few days to try and work out where they planned to go from here, how exactly they were going to continue, or if they should continue at all. Rhian stiffened a little at the thought. She'd never particularly liked that idea, and Eugene knew it.
Slowly, carefully, she pulled away a little, just enough to look him in the eye.
"You knew this was going to happen," she told him gently.
He nodded. "I did. Doesn't mean I like it."
"Weren't you the one telling me to give him a chance just a moment ago?"
"And I stand by that. I just…"
"Wish circumstances were different?"
He grinned. "Right. Exactly. You get me."
"I'm in your head," she reminded him. "Of course I get you."
"And vice versa," he mused, thoughtful all of a sudden, even as a smile pulled at the corners of his lips. "What did I do to deserve that, I wonder?"
Rather than answer, Rhian pulled away from him and returned to rummaging around in her chest of clothes, eventually pulling out a chemise and slipping into it as Eugene simply watched in silence. Feeling his gaze on her back as she began to wrestle with her corset, Rhian sighed tiredly.
"You know I can't focus with you watching me like that."
"You want me to go?"
She bit her lip. The easiest thing would've been to agree, to let him leave so they could get back to their respective lives. But if she was being totally honest with herself, the last thing she wanted right now was to be alone.
"Honestly? No," she murmured. "But you shouldn't let someone as inconsequential as me distract you from your lordly duties."
"That's funny, I could've sworn you sounded strangely like my mother just now," he told her, carefully brushing a lock of hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. "And if it means I can spend more time with you, then hang my lordly duties."
"I'm flattered you're so willing to let your family's teyrnir to fall into the sea just so you can spend a few moments with me."
"That's me. I'm a charmer," he replied, his voice bright and cheerful. "But please don't tell me to be responsible. It's so unlike you."
"We all have to grow up one day."
"But does it have to be today?"
"I'm getting married, Eugene."
There was a pause as he considered this.
"That's… a good point," he eventually sighed in defeat.
They descended into silence for a while as Rhian continued to struggle with the simple undergarments of her dress, before she ultimately concluded that it was not a task she could complete on her own.
"Help me," she called to him, turning around so he could lace up the corset.
Almost immediately, Eugene obliged, sliding out of view as Rhian almost immediately felt the corset tighten around her, pressing in against her chest, pushing in at her waist until it was the smallest it could possibly be. She stood there, as still as she could manage, trying to focus more on breathing than the feeling of Eugene's fingers lightly brushing over the material.
"How would this look to everyone else? I mean, it's just you, lacing up the back of your own dress, isn't it?" he wondered aloud, drawing it back tight – more tightly than Rhian had been expecting. She gasped a little in surprise, causing Eugene to stop. "Sorry. Too tight?"
"No, no," she replied a little breathlessly. "It's good. I just- …you've done this before."
It wasn't a question; more of an observation. It was just one more thing she'd failed to notice about him before, despite everything they'd shared. She had to wonder if there would ever come a day where he wouldn't manage to surprise her anymore.
He laughed. "You'd be surprised."
"You know, I could read into that completely the wrong way."
"I don't mean it like that. It's just a required skill."
"Doing up corsets is?"
"A man who can't undress his wife will never have an heir," he told her cheerfully. "As my brother is fond of saying."
Rhian laughed a little at that – as much as the corset would allow her to. "That does sound like Fergus."
They fell into silence after that, Rhian standing there and staring blankly ahead as Eugene continued to expertly pull at the drawstrings. Rhian didn't react as she felt the corset continue to restrict around her torso, unable to help but compare the feeling to the situation she found herself caught up in. It was all so hopelessly complicated, though that could only be her own fault. For pursuing a relationship with someone she knew she could never have despite knowing she would inevitably end up in an arranged marriage with someone else. For not telling anyone the truth.
Except, her mother had known. Rhian understood that now, when she looked back on some of her childhood memories, times where she had complained and commented on things that didn't always make sense, not knowing any better at the time. Her mother had to have known, or at least suspected something. Maybe not the specifics, but something. Rhian could clearly remember the pained look on her mother's face every time she thought no one could see, after one incident where Rhian had burst into tears because a boy in Highever was sick, and she was terrified that he would die.
She exhaled softly, all too aware that the sick Highever boy in question was standing behind her, deftly lacing up her corset like he'd done it a thousand times before.
"Better hope this fiancé of yours is half as good at this as I am," he whispered in her ear as he finished, before allowing Rhian to continue dressing herself.
It was possibly the most hopelessly complicated thing she'd ever worn, and after struggling with it for a solid couple of minutes, Rhian was about ready to give up on the whole endeavour and simply go to the wedding in her chemise and nothing else. She slacked, letting out a frustrated sigh and uttered a string of violent cusses.
"You, my dear, are hopeless," Eugene laughed as he went to aid her.
Her lip curled slightly at his words. "We can't all be nobles with hordes of servants waiting to dress us."
Eugene snorted at her rebuke."Alas, no. But that's why I'm here, so you won't have to go crawling to Shianni and beg her for help. Aren't you glad?"
She grumbled something largely unintelligible at him, ignoring him when he laughed. Of course he would find it funny. Given the right motivation, he found pretty much anything funny. Especially now, when he was desperate to keep his mind off the reality of the situation.
Finally, after too much tugging, pulling, and light cussing on her part, Eugene pulled back, eyes narrowed and tapping his fingers against his chin as he assessed his handiwork.
"What do you think?" Rhian asked him, twirling on the spot.
Eugene took a moment to silently appraise her, and hummed thoughtfully. "Well, the dress is nice, but your hair's still a mess."
Rhian waved off his criticism carelessly. "Oh, I'm sure I'll be swamped by overexcited bridesmaids eventually. They'll fix it. Probably with braids and flowers."
"Ah. Braids and flowers. Your favourite. Very befitting of such a delicate elven maiden."
"Haha. Shut up."
Almost the instant the words left her lips, there was a sharp knock on her bedroom door. Rhian and Eugene glanced warily at each other for all of half a second before the bedroom door burst open, and Shianni came barrelling in, this time accompanied with a gaggle of other women, all of which were excitedly chatting to each other, presumably about the upcoming ceremony.
"Alright Rhian, I hope you're wearing something, because it's time to force you into-" Shianni began, only to trail off when she saw Rhian standing there, fully dressed already.
There was a pause as neither Rhian nor Shianni said anything, simply stared at each other in silence as the other girls kept talking amongst themselves, apparently oblivious.
"…your wedding dress?" Shianni finished awkwardly, looking dumbstruck.
Rhian laughed and tried her best to shrug it off, as Eugene glanced between the two elven women, his eyebrows raised and looking somewhat amused.
"The bride has miraculously gotten her dress on without help," he gasped with mock-horror, smacking a hand to his forehead. "What trickery is this? She must be a mage."
Quickly, Rhian shot him a dangerous glare before turning back to Shianni.
"Don't look so surprised," she told her cousin airily. "You were taking so long, I got impatient."
"Nice save," Eugene commented dryly.
"Shut up," Rhian hissed back at him, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.
Shianni pulled back. "What?"
"What? Oh, I- …nothing. Talking to myself."
There was a small pause as Rhian waited with bated breath to see if Shianni would believe her awkward and blatant lies. Meanwhile, Eugene grinned, delighting in how unnecessarily difficult he was making it for her.
Then, finally, mercifully, Shianni rolled her eyes dramatically and crossed the small bedroom to assess Rhian's wild and untamed mane of hair.
"You're always talking to yourself," she commented, absently pulling Rhian's hair back so she could properly assess how much effort making her presentable was going to take. "What's our plan of attack with her hair, Nola?"
Immediately, Rhian found herself swarmed by the other bridesmaids, who immediately began to experiment with her hair, suggesting various ideas. Rhian remained trapped helplessly in the middle, saying nothing, wanting nothing more than to murder Eugene as he retreated to the wall, laughing.
And then, without any warning, he was gone.
Rhian blinked several times as she glanced over the space Eugene had been occupying just seconds earlier, before letting out a long sigh and resigning herself to the gaggle of bridesmaids who were now pulling her hair back into an elaborate braid, and threading flowers through it.
She tried not to feel hurt by Eugene's sudden departure. It happened sometimes. Most of the time, really. They all still had their own lives, lives that wouldn't always wait for them. Sudden disappearances were all too common. Somehow, knowing that made them no less jarring.
She was jolted out of her thoughts when someone – probably Shianni – tugged a little too hard on her hair, causing her to gasp in surprise and pain.
"Ah! Careful," she hissed. "My hair is still attached to my head, you know."
Shianni simply tutted quietly. "In that case, maybe you should learn to brush it."
Rhian let out an incomprehensible growl at that, unable to do much more while she was being held hostage by her own bridesmaids. All she could do was remain still and patiently wait for them to be done with her; however agonising that was. Very quickly, she found herself staring longingly at the space Eugene had previously occupied, wishing he would reappear and resume his running commentary on the proceedings. Normally, on any other day, he would. But the more time dragged by, the less certain Rhian was she would see him again any time soon.
It was getting to a point where she had to assume he was deliberately avoiding it, and her.
She knew he was uncomfortable, that he had been deliberately acting like an ass to distract himself; but was the prospect of her wedding really that painful for him?
She sighed a little angrily. It wasn't his wedding. He had no right to sulk.
Finally, the others seemed to deem her acceptable and Rhian was promptly released. She gingerly reached up to pull out a flower that was bothering her, only to have her hand slapped away by Shianni.
"Don't touch," she scolded. "You'll ruin it."
Rhian rolled her shoulders back and tried not to groan. There was no telling how happy she was going to be when all of this was finally over.
"I should find Soris," she mumbled in Shianni's direction, mostly in an effort to be left alone.
To her credit, Shianni didn't argue; simply gave a quick nod and ushered the other two women out the door, leaving Rhian truly alone for the first time that morning as Eugene failed to reappear.
She tried not to think about it too much as she sidled to the door and peeked out, hoping to sneak outside without anyone noticing. Maybe, if she was especially lucky, she could manage to sneak out of the alienage itself without attracting any attention, and thus would be free to vanish into the wilderness in search of the Dalish. Never mind that it was never going to happen; considering the not at all subtle wedding dress.
Quickly, she pulled up the front of the dress to prevent herself from tripping on the hem and made a dash for the door.
"Rhian," the familiar voice of her father called out suddenly, causing Rhian to stop dead in her tracks.
Slowly, warily, she turned on her heels, trying not to look too sheepish about being caught trying to leave without a word to her father.
"Papa!" she gasped, her grip on the bunched-up skirt of her dress slacking, letting the heavy fabric fall straight back in place. "I… I didn't see you."
She winced a little at how weak the lie was, and how Cyrion so obviously didn't buy it, even for a second.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he began, doing nothing to mask the lilting humour in his tone. "A last-minute expedition into the Brecilian Forest, perhaps?"
Rhian pulled back theatrically, affronted by the suggestion. "It's almost as if you don't trust me."
That earned her little more than a politely puzzled silence as her father glanced over her several times, his eyes narrowed, not quite sure what to make of her behaviour. Rhian resisted the almost overwhelming urge to slap her forehead in irritation when she realised what she'd just said. She hadn't meant to do that. It was far more in line with something Eugene might do, but not her. The fact that it had felt so natural only told Rhian what she was afraid to admit; the connection between them was still growing, just like it had been doing for as long as any of them could remember. More often than not, they'd find their lives, their experiences, their opinions and personalities all bleeding into each other. Rhian couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before it became so intense they could no longer distinguish each other as separate beings. Part of her couldn't help but think they were there already.
She tried not to think about it too much. Anything else was too terrifying to consider.
It was times like this when she was reminded, harshly, that she had no idea what the connection between them was, how it worked, or even why it was there. Maybe she wasn't what she thought she was. Maybe none of them were. Any attempt she'd made to discreetly ask someone about it had ended in some variation of this sounds like magic, Rhian, it's wise not to be curious about such things.
She let out a tired groan and pinched the bridge of her nose in some vague attempt to pass off her incredibly Eugene-like behaviour as nerves, or exhaustion, and opted to ask the question she'd been wanting to scream to the heavens since waking up.
"Why today?" she grumbled to her father. "Does it have to be today?"
She'd been prepared to go to work today, not a wedding. Especially not her own. She knew Shianni had said Valendrian had arranged for someone to cover her shift in the estate, but that didn't do anything to put her at ease. No doubt she would owe various people a string of favours before the day was over.
The corners of Cyrion's lips quirked with the hint of a smile. "Is there a problem with today? Nelaros is here, and everybody's ready."
"He wasn't supposed to get here until next week," Rhian pointed out.
Cyrion waved off her concerns. "I'm sure there's a reason he was sent over early. In any case, everything worked out just fine."
"Valendrian was in a fit trying to make it work at such short notice, wasn't he?"
Cyrion decided not to grace that with an answer, instead swiftly redirecting the focus back onto her. "It's better this way. There sooner this wedding happens, the less chance you and Soris have to escape."
The corners of Rhian's lips quirked with an amused smile.
"A small chance is still a chance," she pointed out.
Cyrion sighed loudly at the comment and turned away slightly, rubbing his temples. "You are so much like your mother."
"I thought you liked that about her?"
His eyes flicked up to hers, his expression tired and even a little defeated. "It was one thing to be married to it. It's another to raise it."
Now Rhian was the one to remain silent. She turned away, squaring her shoulders and letting out a long, tired, thoroughly dejected sigh, suddenly wishing the subject of her mother had never come up. So rather than reply, she began to move towards the door, wanting nothing more than to escape outside and bury herself in the festivities she was sure were already taking place.
And then;
"One more thing, Rhian."
She sighed and turned on her heels to face her father once more. "Yes?"
"Your martial training…" he began, carefully ignoring Rhian's immediate eye roll. "The swordplay, knives, and whatever else your mother trained you in. Best not to mention it to your betrothed."
Rhian looked away, stretching her arms out behind her in an effort to seem as nonchalant as possible. Perhaps it was better for Nelaros to know just what exactly he was getting into by marrying her. Perhaps it was better if he knew all of it.
She didn't know what to do. She was sure the others would have opinions, but she couldn't seek out their counsel now. More than that, she didn't want to. There had always been an unspoken rule that they would keep their connection to themselves, unless circumstances were particularly dire. She didn't want to be the first one to break it.
"He'll find out sooner or later," she pointed out bluntly.
The corners of Cyrion's lips quirked slightly at her reply, and his expression became strangely distant.
"Later," he told her, gently clasping her shoulder. "Definitely later. We don't want to seem like troublemakers, after all. Adaia made that mistake."
Rhian's lip curled. "The humans who killed her made a bigger one."
Eugene wasn't there to hear her remark, but Rhian knew what his reaction would be – a faint grimace as he bit back his typical we're not all like that rebuke. Rhian didn't particularly care for that argument. Sure, he wasn't like that, but that didn't change what had happened. It didn't change the fact that her mother was gone and never coming back. Eugene could try to sympathise, but what did he really know, in the end? Even Yeva knew something about loss, but Eugene? He was noble. All his life, his people had catered to his every whim. What did he really know about hardship?
"Rhian, please," Cyrion murmured as he clasped her shoulder. "Don't go out of your way seeking revenge. What happened was terrible, but there's nothing to be done. I couldn't bear to lose you the same way."
She couldn't help but soften when she saw the agonised look in her father's eyes. So rather than argue, she wrapped her arms around him and swiftly kissed his cheek.
"I'll be careful," she promised as she pulled away. "Trust me, Papa."
Cyrion managed a small, sad smile as he glanced over her once again.
"You are so beautiful," he told her softly, his eyes welling up with tears that he might've been able to hide if Rhian hadn't been so close. "He's lucky to have you."
She sighed heavily. "I bet all the fathers say that to their daughters on their wedding day."
Cyrion didn't reply to her remark, at least not at first. Rather, he gently cupped her face in his hands and kissing the crown of her head.
"All the fathers mean it," he told her softly, before pulling away. "Now, go on. I'm sure half the alienage is waiting out there to congratulate you."
Rhian gave a long, dramatic sigh and nodded, wandering over to the door, pulling it open and slipping outside.
Outside, the alienage was bustling with activity, perhaps more so than on other days. Rhian didn't notice, too focused on avoiding the huge muddy puddles that lingered from last night's downpour. It wouldn't do to wreck her wedding dress before the ceremony even started.
A group of men who appeared to have started drinking some hours ago whistled at her as she passed, and Rhian turned her head slightly to hide her smile. Part of her couldn't help but like it – wearing the most expensive dress she owned, done up to look like a princess. Living her entire life in the muck and dirt of the alienage, it had been such a long time since she'd felt beautiful. Seeing the ladies of Highever through Eugene's eyes hadn't helped with that, either. There were times she couldn't help but wonder why on earth Eugene would want her, the grotty tomboyish elf from Denerim, over the highborn women he was surrounded by every day.
Quickly, she elected not to think about it. It would just depress her otherwise.
Eventually, she rounded a corner and spotted Soris leaning against a wall, patiently waiting for her.
"Finally," he commented as she made her way towards him. "I was starting to worry you'd died in your sleep."
She pulled a face at that. "I wish."
The corners of Soris' lips quirked with the beginning of a smile. "Why are you complaining? Supposedly, your groom is a dream come true."
"Supposedly," Rhian pointed out.
"Better than mine, at least – she sounds like a dying mouse."
"We could trade?" Rhian offered cheerfully.
He let out a shout of laughter. "Oh yeah, sure. Because that'll go over so well."
"Or we could look for the Dalish…?"
The second the words were out of her mouth, Soris' palm was slapped against his forehead in exasperation. Rhian wasn't terribly surprised by his reaction; he'd been much the same since she first suggested the idea.
"This again?" he asked tiredly. "It'd be less effort to just give up and go through with the wedding."
"You're no fun, Soris."
He shrugged. "That's what you have Shianni for, isn't it? Anyway, you should at least meet Nelaros before you marry him. Come on."
With that, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and began to pull her out towards the main square of the alienage, where the vhenadahl grew tall and proud, all while half the population of the alienage seemed to run around, trying to prepare for the ceremony. Rhian kept her eyes firmly on the ground, not wanting to consider it. The more she thought about it, the more confused she became over what to do.
It was all happening so quickly.
"Ah, Soris! There you are," a voice called out, followed by footsteps that caused Rhian's head to snap up.
She was met with a young woman with bright eyes and a cheerful smile, who was making her way over to them as a man about the same age trailed behind her, looking equally curious.
"Had to find the blushing bride," Soris said with a grin, nudging Rhian a little as he did. "Rhian, this is Valora, my betrothed."
Rhian nodded at the woman, doing her best to give a welcoming smile before her gaze shifted to the man she could only assume was her own fiancé, eyebrows rising slightly as she took him in. There was a moment of silence as she stared, unsure what to make of him, exactly. He seemed… nice. Pleasant, respectful, and well-mannered, at the very least.
Was it so much to ask for him to be a complete and utter bastard so she wouldn't have to feel so guilty over what she was hiding from him?
"You… must be Nelaros, then?" she asked, her voice jerky and devoid of any real emotion.
He smiled warmly at her, though Rhian did spot his eyes wander over her, taking her in for the first time. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder what he thought of her.
"I am indeed," he said, still smiling, offering her his hand, which Rhian gingerly took. "You're Rhian? Soris has told me about you. Some of it was even positive."
Immediately, she shot Soris a glare, only for him to raise his hands defensively.
"Hey now, I was just trying to give him an out. A sporting chance to run, and all that."
"Soris," Rhian hissed his name in a warning tone.
Nelaros simply laughed, appearing extremely good natured about it all.
"Oh, look," Eugene suddenly whispered in her ear, not even bothering to hide the mischievous grin that was quickly spreading across his face. "He's handsome."
Immediately, Rhian jumped back in surprise. "Eugene!"
Her sudden outburst was met with a bemused silence as Soris, Valora, and Nelaros all stared at her quizzically, completely at a loss of what to make of her behaviour. Rhian, realising her mistake, flushed a bright scarlet as she scrambled to come up with some explanation. Eugene, meanwhile, circled her like a hawk, watching and waiting for her response, not bothering to do anything about the shit-eating grin plastered across his face.
Before she could get out a single word, however, Soris jumped to her rescue, gripping her upper arm and pulling her away, all while chattering away any and every explanation he could possibly think of.
"Don't mind her!" he all but shouted at Nelaros, lips cracked in an obviously forced grin. "Wedding nerves, you know."
Slowly, jerkily, Nelaros nodded. "I- …of course. Apologies."
Beside her, Eugene burst into a fit of almost hysterical giggles."Well, he's quite the catch. I'm a little jealous."
Rhian pinched the bridge of her nose and huffed loudly, a gesture that clearly stated what she couldn't outright tell him.
"Come on cousin," Soris told her a little sharply, pulling her away with surprising strength. "We should let them get ready."
Rhian didn't resist him, allowing herself to be dragged around a corner and behind one of the countless rows of ramshackle houses that were crammed into the alienage, Eugene trailing along behind her, taking in the surroundings with interest. As unceremonious as his reappearance had been, Rhian would be lying to herself if she thought she wasn't glad to have him back. Something about him being there with her gave her a sense of security she didn't have otherwise.
Still. He could've done it with a little more tact.
"What…" Soris began between desperate gasps for air as he finally halted, "what was that?"
Rhian bit her lip and glanced over Soris' shoulder, where Eugene stood, watching her with his eyebrows raised. Her mouth went dry as she struggled for words, and the two incredulous stares she was getting in return weren't helping.
"I was…" she began, faltering as she realised that she had no idea how to explain her actions without a lengthy and complicated summary of everything that was going on. "I thought- …I just remembered…"
"Any day now, Rhian," Eugene deadpanned.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a quiet growl. "Shut up, Eugene."
There was a pause before she realised she'd said this aloud. Anxiously, she looked up, only to find Soris was looking at her, his expression twisted into one of confusion and outright horror.
"Oh no," he murmured, mostly to himself. "Oh no. Please tell me you're not doing this again."
"Doing what?"
"That," he replied, giving her a pointed look. "That thing where you talk to yourself as if someone else is there."
From behind Soris, Eugene just laughed, having far too much fun with the entire situation. "How do you think he'd react if he knew that someone he can't see is standing right behind him?"
Rhian huffed loudly. "I don't know what you're talking about, Soris."
He just shook his head in response. "Yes, you do."
"Look, it's nothing, alright? Don't worry about it."
"You're a little old for imaginary friends, don't you think?" he asked while gesturing at her, clearly exasperated.
"They're not imaginary," she shot back defensively, before she could stop herself.
Soris groaned. "Of course."
Realising her mistake, Rhian turned away. "It doesn't matter. Don't worry about it."
"Right. Have fun explaining that to Nelaros in a way that doesn't sound completely insane. I should… get back."
Soris gave one last meaningful look, clearly telling her to calm down and start acting normal, before turning heel and heading back in the direction they came, back to where they'd left both Nelaros and Valora. For a time, Rhian watched him go, running through every possible excuse she could come up with to explain her behaviour. She glanced imploringly over at Eugene, hoping he would have any ideas, but he didn't seem to be paying attention. Rhian scowled a little and turned away, wondering what the point of having the best liar out of all of them there if he wasn't even going to make himself useful.
Then, slowly, Eugene made his way over to her, gently placing a comforting hand on her back.
"So."
She twisted around to face him, eyes wide and a little confused. "So?"
"Are you going to tell him?"
"Tell him what?"
Eugene's eyebrows rose a little disbelievingly at her question.
"About this," he clarified, gesturing wildly between the two of them. "About the whole situation in general."
She pursed her lips. "You want me to tell my husband of the illicit affair I've been having with the teyrn of Highever's son?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of skipping to the part where you explain how that's even possible to begin with, but you do you."
"You're not helping."
His eyebrows rose slightly at her rebuke. "You really think you can hide it from him? Rhian, there are times I can barely hide it from my family. This is your husband we're talking about. He's going to find out sooner or later."
Later, Rhian heard her father's words echo back to her. Definitely later.
If Cyrion thought Rhian's martial training was enough to scare Nelaros off, then there was no telling how he would react to the revelation that she was, and had always been, irrevocably connected to six other people. The more Rhian thought about it, the more she realised she didn't even know how to start that conversation. Least of all in any sort of delicate manner.
Hey, she could imagine telling him. I know we're married, but I've actually been carrying on with someone else in my mind for years now.
Oh yes. That was going to go down so well. And that wasn't even taking into account that she had no intention whatsoever of ending her relationship with Eugene.
Did that make her a bad person? Rhian couldn't tell anymore. Going behind her husband's back maybe wasn't the honourable thing to do, but wasn't it ultimately gentler to lie rather than come out with the truth? Normally, she'd worry about being caught in the act, but that wasn't a concern when the other man in question was halfway across the country from her.
She didn't know Nelaros. There shouldn't be an expectation of loyalty to someone she'd met all of two minutes ago. She had no reason to put her marriage to him above a man she genuinely cared deeply for. A man she knew had been agonising over the same problem for weeks; far more concerned for her honour than she was. For someone who constantly stated he didn't care about honour or reputations, Eugene always put a surprising amount of stake in such things. Rhian always maintained that if Eugene was so desperate to preserve her honour, he could always leave himself. More than once, he'd tried to do exactly that, but it never lasted. No doubt he would try to keep his distance after the wedding. Rhian expected that wouldn't last, either.
"You can't just not tell him," Eugene told her, drawing her back to their conversation.
"Why not?" she shot back a little coldly. "None of you have told anyone."
"He's your husband," he pointed out, his tone almost indignant.
She resisted the almost overwhelming urge to groan loudly. She'd long since lost track of how many times they'd had this argument.
"We're not married yet," she pointed out.
Eugene wasn't impressed by that. "Give it an hour. You will be."
Rhian folded her arms at that, not bothering to hide her irritation at him. "What's your point, Eugene?"
He let out a harsh sigh and began to pace, raking his hand through his hair and generally acting far more stressed than he had any right to be.
"I can't- …we can't… it's not honourable."
"Since when did you care about honour?"
"I'm not the one at stake here."
Rhian folded her arms and huffed loudly. "No, you wouldn't be. Because it's perfectly acceptable for someone like you to take an elven mistress, isn't it?"
"That's not what I-"
"I wonder, will you do this when it's your wedding?" she asked him snappishly. "How is Delilah, by the way?"
"Don't make this about me."
"It's already about you," she argued. "Why are you pushing this so hard, anyway?"
He stopped in his tracks at her question, and for the longest time, no answer came. Rhian watched him patiently, waiting for the inevitable renewed argument.
"I don't know," he began after an agonising pause. "I thought I could deal with it when it came, but… I don't know. I don't want to be the other man."
"The other man?" she repeated blandly. "Eugene, how long have we been together? If anything, Nelaros is the other man."
"And yet, which of us is the one marrying you?" he shot back at her, before sitting down in the dirt, staring aimlessly ahead. "I could've sworn it's not me."
For a moment, Rhian remained rooted to the spot, anxiously chewing her lip and trying to think of something, anything useful to say. When she woke up this morning, she honestly hadn't thought she would be the one trying to comfort someone else over the wedding.
Slowly, she sat down next to him. Suddenly, she didn't care about soiling her dress. It didn't matter anymore.
"I love you," she murmured as her hand brushed his. "We'll find a way to make this work."
"And if that means telling Nelaros the truth?" he asked, his eyes flicking up to hers and watching her carefully. "Full disclosure?"
She sighed and squared her shoulders. "Then so be it. But only if there's no other choice."
He let out an agitated sigh at that, but didn't argue. They both knew there was no point in continuing; neither of them was going to budge. Neither of them wanted to have this argument again, regardless. They both knew that it would only end the same way.
"Rhian," a voice suddenly called from above, causing Rhian to immediately look up to find her fiancé standing there, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"
She gave a weak smile and nodded, as Eugene made a point of looking in the opposite direction.
"Nelaros," she breathed his name. "Yes, I'm fine."
He smiled too at her reply, and quickly joined her in the dirt.
"You look beautiful," he told her quietly as he settled.
She nodded stiffly. "Thank you. You do too. Uh, handsome, I mean."
Beside her, Eugene snorted. "Oh, go on. Tell him he's beautiful. Tell him he's the prettiest elf in all the alienage."
She ignored that. It was all she could do, without giving Nelaros reason to be doubtful of her sanity. Even if she did end up telling him the truth, she was certain it wasn't going to happen today. The wedding was stressful enough, just on its own. And Nelaros knew her about as well as she knew him. She had to keep reminding herself of that fact.
After a brief pause, Nelaros nudged her gently.
"Nervous?" he asked, trying and largely failing to mask the budding fear in his tone.
She nodded. "Terrified."
He laughed at her answer. "Oh, that's good. Me too."
Eugene groaned and leaned back, sprawling himself out on the ground. "Wow. He's perfect for you."
Rhian closed her eyes and exhaled loudly, which had long since become the easiest way of voicing her displeasure without words. It probably should've been impressive, just how quickly they'd all managed to come up with an entire language of non-verbal cues that allowed them to communicate, even while in the presence of other people. But Rhian couldn't help but long for a life where she wouldn't be constantly caught up in two conversations at once. It was hard enough to focus as it was.
Nelaros gave a weak smile and cleared his throat awkwardly. "So… can I ask who Eugene is?"
Rhian blinked in surprise. "I- what?"
"Earlier, when you shouted…"
She exhaled sharply as Eugene frantically gestured at her to tell the truth. When she didn't say anything, he groaned loudly.
"Eugene is the teyrn of Highever's son," he said, despite knowing full well that there wasn't any way for Nelaros to hear him. "And he's right here."
Rhian bit her lip. "He's… an old friend. I was thinking about him, and realised that, uh… I haven't told him about the wedding."
There was an audible smack as Eugene's palm slammed against his forehead in exasperation.
"I haven't written in so long," she continued, her heart thumping in her chest as she begged the Maker, the Creators, the Stone, the dwarven ancestors, and every other deity she could think of to let Nelaros believe her fumbling and blatant lies. "It completely slipped my mind, and I… suddenly remembered."
Whether Nelaros believed her or not, Rhian honestly couldn't tell, but he seemed content to let the subject drop. He seemed to have a respect for her privacy no one else did. Maybe this could work, after all. Maybe everything was going to be just fine. Maybe she'd settle nicely into her marriage and she'd live out her days working as a servant while her husband apprenticed in a smithy and they'd have five children and her habit of hallucinating other people's lives would quickly become a thing of the past.
It might've been nice; living the same boring, normal, mundane life as everyone else. Had things been different, it might've even been a life Rhian was content to lead.
"We should… ah, we should head to the main square," she mumbled after what felt like an eternity, scrambling back up to her feet. "It wouldn't do for us to both be late."
Nelaros laughed at that, picking himself up as well. "What a terrible start to married life that would be."
For the first time that day, Rhian laughed too.
She turned to look back at Eugene, only to find nothing but empty space there. For a moment, she watched, wondering if he was going to reappear, but as the seconds dragged past without any sign of his return, she resigned herself to enduring the ceremony alone.
She turned back to Nelaros, who casually linked his arm with hers, still smiling pleasantly.
No, she corrected herself. Not alone. Not anymore.
"There you two are!" an extremely flustered Valendrian called out the instant he spotted the two of them walking through the main square of the alienage, arms linked and laughing. "Everyone's waiting – so for the Maker's sake, take your places."
Both Rhian and Nelaros quickly gave the elder small, submissive nods, before winding their way through the gathered crowd, to where Soris, Valora, and the Revered Mother who was to officiate were patiently waiting.
"Nice of you to join us," Soris quipped as Rhian took her place. "I was worried you'd made one last dash to escape."
She rolled her eyes at her cousin, before clearing her throat and little and flicking a stray lock of hair out of her face. It was going to be fine. If nothing else, she would make it fine. After all, marriage was only as bad as she made it.
She smiled a little ruefully to herself. Her father would be so proud.
The Revered Mother began to speak, but Rhian didn't hear the words. She stared aimlessly ahead, barely aware of her surroundings, wondering how this would come to impact her life, and her relationships with the six others who shared it. She wondered what would change. What they would think. How Nelaros would react when and if she ever tried to tell him about them, and the things their connection allowed her to do.
Was she crazy? She'd spent an absurdly large part of her life trying to answer that question, and still, she had no answer. This was just one more thing, one more obstacle to be managed when her life was already so complicated.
She didn't know what to do. Though, if she was being honest, it was a wonder she ever did.
Her eyes moved up to meet those of her groom. Why did she feel as though she needed to either love or despise him? Where was that written? Why did she feel so compelled to be one or the other? They could be friends, surely. Maybe, just for now, that's all they needed to be. The truth, and all the complications that came with it, could wait.
Everyone would have opinions, of course. She had to expect that. Everyone had opinions about everything, all the time. That was just part of what they were, interacting how they did, being as involved in each other's lives as they were. They would have opinions on how to deal with Nelaros, on whether he could be trusted with the truth, just as she had opinions on their own complications and struggles, and the people in their lives. Not for the first time, she wished that wasn't her reality. And not for the first time, she wondered if the others felt the same.
The instant her thoughts turned to them, the people with whom she shared everything, Rhian could feel her mind being pulled in all sorts of directions, as she struggled to connect with them while part of her remained determined to stay focused, and grounded in her own life.
Eugene gracefully twirling a pair of dirks and giving a forced smile to Gilmore before attacking the training dummy in front of him with a renewed hostility – tearing the material apart with barely concealed anger and frustration.
Denerim, part of her mind whispered, trying to reinforce the world around her.
Yeva carefully taking in the vast arena before her, watching on impassively as seasoned warriors fight in her honour.
The alienage.
Aneurin staring idly at the broken bow in his hands, his mind reeling from the shock.
The wedding.
Eisa curled up in a corner of the library, her eyes scanning an old tome, curling further in on herself in some attempt to hide her reddening cheeks at the passing young templar's shy smile.
Nelaros.
Joachim pacing agitatedly before the unconscious form of a drunkard, frantically trying to think of something, anything, that will save him from impending disaster.
Focus.
Ellis sitting there with his arms crossed, unable to stop himself from making a quip about pent up sexual frustration as Jowan paces agitatedly in front of him.
Breathe.
Rhian breathed. She breathed and tried to concentrate on the biting cold of Denerim's weather, on the feeling of Nelaros' hands in hers, on the sound of the Revered Mother as she officiated.
Maybe she was finding it so difficult to stay grounded because, in truth, she desperately wanted not to be here.
In that moment, she couldn't say.
And then, just like that, it was over.
She was married.
Rhian blinked several times in shock, certain it wasn't supposed to go so fast. Maybe it had been because she wasn't paying attention. She couldn't honestly say. She remained in something of a daze, not quite able to gage reality, even as Nelaros took her hand and led her through the crowd as people cheered and wished them well, Soris and Valora following close behind.
Everything seemed so surreal, somehow.
"Rhian?" Nelaros called her name gently. "Are you alright?"
Slowly, she nodded. "I- …yes. I'm fine. I just… I need some air."
With that, she pulled away from him, trying to get out, to be some place where she could be alone, really alone, and concentrate on who she was for a little while. Just to reaffirm that she was still her own person, and not just a strange amalgamation of seven personalities blended into one body.
Almost immediately, Nelaros followed her, clearly worried. Rhian tried not to let it bother her. It was good that he cared. Not enough people did.
The two made their way out of the square and away from the noise and chatter, both confident that attention would remain on the other newlywed couple long enough for them to get away. It was one of the perks of having a double wedding. Rhian could finally see why Valendrian had insisted, although his reasoning was likely more for the general efficiency.
"My, what a fun little party," a horribly familiar voice observed suddenly, causing Rhian to immediately stop dead in her tracks and turn on her heels to face the speaker, the blood draining from her face. "Almost makes me upset I wasn't invited."
She knew that voice. It was fair to say that every elf in the alienage knew that voice, and the all too familiar chaos that usually followed it. Every elf, that was, save for her new husband, still fresh from the Highever alienage. He wouldn't know. How could he?
"We need to leave," she urged suddenly, anxiously taking Nelaros' hand and pulling him away.
He blinked several times. "Why? What's going on?"
"Now, Nelaros," she hissed, never loosening her vice-like grip, even as he resisted her.
A panicked scream erupted before she could answer, causing both of them to immediately turn towards the commotion. They were greeted with the sight of Vaughan Kendells leering over a young elven woman, running his hands over her body as she sank against the wall of a house, crying silent tears and apparently too shocked and terrified to move.
Rhian looked away. Such scenes had become all too common in recent years, and she couldn't bear to see it anymore. She'd been fortunate enough to escape the noble's attention so far, and wasn't keen to break that streak. And in any case, her mother's fate had taught her that trying to fight only got you and everyone you love killed.
She hated it. Hated seeing it. Hated how common it had become. And she especially hated the feeling of being trapped, of being unable to do anything about it. But life was cruel and no one ever said the alienage was a safe, wholesome environment for anyone. She was resigned to that.
Of course, that didn't mean Nelaros was.
"Nelaros!" she called his name sharply, doing her best to pull him back. "Don't. Please."
He stared at her like she was completely insane. "You're not honestly going to just let someone come in here and harass your people like this?"
"That's Vaughan Kendells," she said. "This is what he does."
"And no one's going to stop him?"
"No one can!" she snarled. "He's the arl's son!"
Either Nelaros didn't hear her, or he didn't care, as he was already running towards the group.
"You're going to get yourself killed!" she shouted after him. "Nelaros!"
But her cries came too late. Nelaros had already barrelled onto the scene, shoving the human noble off the young woman he had cornered.
"Get off her," he snarled, with more aggression than Rhian had thought he was even capable of.
Almost immediately, one of Vaughan's accomplices – Rhian couldn't tell which one, Arl Urien's son seemed to go through friends faster than anyone else in Thedas – roughly pushed Nelaros back.
"You'd better watch your tongue when speaking to the Arl of Denerim's son, elf."
"I don't care who he is," Nelaros retorted. "The people here aren't yours to torment."
Vaughan, having now recovered, turned to face him, his lips curving into a sadistic smile. "Oh, don't tell me. It's the dashing groom himself, come to save the day," he drawled. "That's cute."
Nelaros, quaking with anger now, couldn't restrain himself any longer. He made a swing at Vaughan's face, which the human quickly dodged before reaching out, grabbing Nelaros by his shirt, and pulling him close.
"Nelaros, don't!" Rhian shouted, frantically gesturing at him to leave, before he inevitably got himself killed.
She'd seen people die to the arl's men before, and had almost become one of those victims herself too many times to count. As much as she didn't know Nelaros, as much as she wished she hadn't been pushed into marrying him, she didn't want to see him dead. Certainly not to Vaughan and his lackeys for the crime of trying to protect an innocent girl from being molested.
At the sound of her voice, Vaughan shoved Nelaros away with so much force that the elf staggered, before turning on his heels to face her, eyes gleaming with interest as they trailed up Rhian's figure, over the curve of her hips; his gaze coming to linger at her chest.
"Now see here, the pretty bride," he breathed, biting his lip and giving her one more appreciative once-over that made Rhian's skin crawl as her heart hammered relentlessly in her chest.
"Don't touch me," she hissed, quickly backing away.
"Come now," he said softly, advancing on her until she was pressed against the wall of a house, helpless to do anything as he leaned in even closer, until there was barely an inch between them. "All done up like this… you were bound to attract attention. Surely you knew that."
He leered over her, and Rhian was suddenly hyper aware of just how much bigger and stronger he was compared to her. She couldn't fight, couldn't push him away, couldn't do anything to escape from him as he leaned in, ever closer, until she could feel his hot breath on her neck. Every fibre in her being screamed at her to fight back, to run, to do something, but her body refused to move.
"Get away from her!" she heard Nelaros scream, but it seemed faint, distant, as though it came from miles away. "If you so much as touch her, Maker help me, I'll-"
He cut off with a gasping grunt as one of the humans – Rhian couldn't tell who, nor did she care – delivered a fast, brutal blow to his gut. She shrank back against the wall even further as Nelaros quickly crumpled from the attack, falling to the ground as the humans descended upon him, almost in a frenzy.
"You'll what?" Vaughan asked without looking back, completely unconcerned with the sudden outburst of violence. "Please, tell me. I'm dying to know."
There was a pause as the man seemed to be waiting for a reply, though he clearly never expected it to actually come. It might've been brief, perhaps only a second or two, but in that moment, time seemed to grind to a standstill – and all Rhian could bring herself to do was stand there, watching in utter terror, and listen to the sound of her newlywed husband being beaten to a bloody pulp by humans she was powerless to fight against.
She couldn't run.
She couldn't fight.
She couldn't do anything.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. She wasn't supposed to be this way. She should be brave. She should bite and snarl and claw at her captor, fighting tooth and nail. Every part of her was screaming at her to do something, to do anything, but nothing would respond. She was paralysed, pinned there by pure, unadulterated fear.
Vaughan rolled his eyes then, his expression bored and dismissive. "You people are so melodramatic. I'm not going to keep the dirty little knife-ear. Just borrow her for a night or two. I mean, what's a little sharing between friends?"
At his words, Rhian's knees buckled beneath her and she slowly slid to the ground, desperate to get away from him. She hated it. She hated how vulnerable she felt, hated the way her heart thumped in her chest from fear. Anxiously, she tried reaching out, hoping she could draw the others to help bolster her.
But as the seconds dragged by, as Vaughan gripped her upper arm and wrenched her back up to eye level, all while giving her a sick, twisted grin that told her everything she needed to know about what he was planning to do, if she didn't know already; the others failed to appear.
Where were they? Why couldn't she reach them?
"Eugene," she whispered, her voice cracking with fear and barely audible, "Eugene, help."
But still, her calls were met with silence.
It didn't usually take this long. She wasn't usually ignored like this. Rhian couldn't say what was wrong – maybe her panic was affecting her focus, stopping her from reaching them. She honestly couldn't say. It seemed to be different for everyone.
She was so absorbed with her utter failure to call for help that she barely heard Nelaros' ragged voice screaming threats and vitriol to the man who had her pinned against the wall, even as he was curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach in pain. She couldn't tell what was being said, exactly, but she didn't really need to know. She only wished Nelaros would stop talking, stop making it worse for himself. At this rate, he would only draw more of Vaughan's ire.
Vaughan gave a dramatic shrug then, while never loosening his grip on Rhian.
"I've got your bitch right here," he called casually, his eyes never leaving her face. "Either you can settle for getting her back a little… um, used, or you can simply not get her back at all. And I'm not entirely sure you want to risk that."
Rhian could feel her stomach turn at the thought, but still couldn't bring herself to move, even as Vaughan leaned in close.
"You hear me?" he whispered, his lips just grazing her cheek. "Be a good girl and don't fight now. Maybe you'll even be able to go home tomorrow. We'll even find some others to keep you company."
With those words, Vaughan turned back to his lackeys.
"At least one each, right?" he asked, though it was framed more as a rhetorical question than something that actually invited an answer. "That's fair, isn't it?"
Something, somehow, seemed to snap at that. A sudden burst of confidence flooded through Rhian, and she spat in his face.
There was a brief, tense pause as a glob of saliva spattered across Vaughan's cheek, during which Rhian paled, suddenly realising what she'd actually done. Vaughan twisted around to look at his friends, who were still standing around Nelaros' collapsed form, his eyebrows raised in mild disbelief and something akin to amusement.
"So, there's a little spirit to her after all," he drawled, his lips twisting into a sick smile as he wiped the spit from his face; his hand that had been holding her there so tightly finally dropping. "Good. Maybe we'll be able to teach her some manners. Her and the other whores in this dump."
With that, his hand rose, and before Rhian could really understand what was happening, he struck her. Pain seared across her cheek as she was thrown off-balance from the sheer force of the blow. Her head struck the ground, and everything quickly went black.
In Highever, Eugene Cousland staggered and fell, unconscious before he hit the ground.