Title: Red Christmas
Author: homesweethomicide13
Rating: M
Pairing: Jarda
Warning: Blood, violence, dark themes, bad language
Disclaimer: Hmm... Nope, still don't own. And this definitely did not happen.
Summary: It had built up over the years. And now, with their words ringing in his ears, he finally snapped.
Author's Note: This is a second submission for the Deltora Christmas Challenge over on the Challenges thread on the main DQ Forum. This contains scenes of a dark nature, so be warned.
Red Christmas
He barely remembered a time when darkness hadn't comforted him. It had been his only friend for a long time, while he was stuck in the forge yard with only the stars to keep him company. He remembered lying awake in the pitch black, surprised to find that it didn't frighten him like it frightened everybody else. The moment he'd left the palace, his only family gone, and his friends dead, darkness had consumed his heart. If he'd known it back then, he might have done something to stop it from going any further, but that would have been too easy. No, far better for him to have to suffer.
He was sat in his room, huddled in the darkest corner, his eyes alert and focused on the shape beneath the blankets on his bed. Occasionally, the figure would move restlessly, but would quickly settle back down comfortably. If the person had been aware that they were being watched by haunted eyes, they might not have slept so peacefully. But he would be gone by morning. He always left before his companion woke up. He told himself it was because he had work to do and it was best done as quickly as possible, but deep down inside he knew it was because he was afraid to look into those eyes, afraid they would see through him. He'd always been perfect at concealing his darkest emotions. But then he came.
And everything and gone to shit. Here was a man who could see past the defensive barrier he'd put up around himself. A man who could gaze into his eyes and see who he was really was, and what he was trying to hide. No, he could never meet those eyes so soon after the night. He would be fine later in the day, when the shadows were weak. But until then, he would avoid eye contact with the one person who could see what he really felt. So far it had been working. But how much longer would it be before he questioned him? How much longer before he was asked why he did meet the eyes of the one he supposedly loved until the sun was high in the sky?
He wouldn't understand. That's what he kept trying to tell himself. No one would ever understand what was happening to him. Even if he tried to explain, they would laugh it off as nothing, and tell him there was nothing to worry about. But he was worried – worried for them. No, he couldn't tell them. He couldn't tell anyone. He'd already been accused – by a rat of no importance, but accused nonetheless – of selling himself to their enemy. He did not need to give them another reason to suspect such a thing. It wasn't true. He had not sold himself to the Shadow Lord. He didn't know what he had sold himself to.
Perhaps it was the darkness itself. Perhaps he had finally given in to the creeping darkness that had hold of his heart. He refused to believe that he had lost to such a thing. He had felt that he was getting better – he wasn't alone anymore, and he had news friends, even a family of sorts. The black hole in his chest should have repaired itself. But it hadn't. Not in the slightest. Why? Because he saw the looks they sent his way when they thought he wasn't looking. He heard the whispered words they tried to hide behind their hands. He felt them wilt beneath his cold, dark gaze. They didn't truly accept him. No one in this cursed place did. He'd been born and raised here, and yet this place he'd once called home suddenly seemed like an alien world. He no longer belonged here, not really. This was not his place.
His eyes returned to the sleeping figure in the bed. Neither of them belonged here now. They were exiled – not physically but mentally and emotionally. No one accepted them. What they were – what they did – was wrong in their eyes. It had started out okay. They'd exchanged smiles over people's heads, touched hands when no one was looking; let their fingers linger on the other's body for a moment longer than was necessary. They still argued, but their arguments were half-hearted, and rarely serious. If anyone had noticed, they said nothing. But that was before they'd confessed.
It hadn't meant to happen the way it did. They'd planned it all out perfectly – they would sit their close friends down together and explain as calmly as possible, and then wait for the result. But all that planning had amounted to nothing in the end. It was the smallest of mistakes – a brief touch of lips before they parted ways for work, but they had been witnessed. That day, he had run to his love's broken body and wiped the blood from his face, and a black anger rose within him. He'd lifted his cold eyes to meet those of the ones responsible, standing above him, sneering and jeering at him. And he had tried to silence them forever.
It had taken eight of his finest men to hold him back when he'd gone for their throats, and four more had stood between him and his victims. As the men were carted away to be cared for, Lief arrived, face as white as paper and shock in his eyes. He, too, was angry when he saw for himself what the men had done to Doom, but he was even angrier at him for acting on his own. He'd been locked in a cell in the dungeon like a filthy prisoner, apparently for his own good. Doom was seen to instantly, but he didn't see him again for two days. Lief only set him free when Doom demanded to see him.
In that dark, damp cell, he'd felt that black anger settle in his blood, and a strange calm fell over him. When Lief came to unlock the cell door, he had been sat on the rotting wooden bench, calmly staring out of the barred window. Lief had apologized for keeping him in there like a criminal, but he tried to explain that it was to keep up a good image. He cared nothing for Lief's image. He just wanted to see Doom. He was escorted by two guards, both of them deliberately keeping their eyes away from him, out of respect and out of fear. They'd witnessed their Chief's fury. They'd described it as watching a wild wolf attacking a lame deer. He was no longer referred to as 'The Bear'. Now he was the 'Savage Wolf'. That sparked fury within him, but he held it back. He was not a savage, not like his father. If only they knew…
Seeing Doom lying in that hospital bed, one leg in a splint and one arm in a sling, a bandage wrapped tightly around his head, partially covering one eye and his entire chest seemingly held together by bandages… it had brought all that anger back. He'd been left alone with Doom then – the scarred man had explained everything to their friends. As Doom slept, he grasped the uninjured hand and tried not to think about what had been done to him. One hand pressed against his mouth as he tried to contain his anger. But once those gates had been broken down, they couldn't be rebuilt. He hadn't realized that he'd bitten through his hand until Jasmine came to check on her father, and exclaimed at the sight of his blood. He had turned to her, blood lingering on his lips and tried to smile, tried to seem friendly – like he used to be. But the blood staining the tips of his canines had made her cautious.
He had to return to work. He had to leave Doom alone in the hospital wing. Guards had been placed outside his door, but he wasn't sure if it was enough. He felt eyes upon him wherever he went, and he heard their whispers. News of the close relationship he had with Doom had spread. He was an outsider amongst them. They had once greeted him with cheer and welcome, but now they turned from him in disgust. When Doom was fit to leave the hospital, he received the same treatment. People threatened to hurt him again.
Their relationship had suffered because of it. Doom was scared to go anywhere alone. But Doom was scared to go anywhere with him in case he snapped and tried to kill someone again. Doom did not know that once he had fallen asleep, his love would creep from their bed and sit in that dark, foreboding corner and watch him with those haunted eyes, waiting for the sun to rise. He was scared to be near Doom in the dark, in case the darkness tried to hurt him. He would never forgive himself.
Their friends had been accepting. They never questioned their relationship, never asked about it. They acted as if it wasn't important. But Lief would avoid contact with either of them. Ranesh refused to sit near them. Marilen didn't allow Josef to be around them. Jasmine always stared at her father with cautious eyes. Even Sharn was uncomfortable. Everything had changed.
They were hated. By all. There was no doubt about that.
He'd heard them talking together. He knew everything. He knew how they really felt about his relationship with Doom. He'd told Doom everything. Doom had been upset by the news, had even cried. That fiery black anger had crept to the surface once more, and he'd had to leave their bed again, for fear it would try to consume his lover. That had been mere hours ago. Doom had at last fallen asleep, and he now watched him with dark eyes that glistened with the fire of malice. This deep, blackness had built up over the years. And now, with their words still ringing in his ears, he snapped.
He stood from his corner. It was an oddly graceful movement, very feline and almost delicate. He moved across the room without sound, and stood over Doom. One finger traced the outline of Doom's jaw before he bent and placed a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. Two muttered words before he turned and left the room as silent as the grave.
"I'm sorry."
*
It was dark outside – midnight. Screams woke him from his sleep and he turned to see if his wife had woken. He panicked when he saw that the space beside him was empty. He searched the room frantically, but she was nowhere in sight. A familiar screech broke through the screams and he bolted out of bed. That was Kree! He swung open the door and was met with a scene more suited to the gruesome horror stories in the library. People were everywhere, some of them dead, most of them alive and screaming. Blood coated everything. He saw Ranesh's broken body on the stairs, close to the disfigured body of Marilen. Their son was nowhere in sight. He searched the hall, but the only other people he could see were young men in blue uniforms, some writhing in agony. He followed Kree's squawking and found himself on the balcony above the great hall. It was a massacre. Those who weren't dead were dying. The floor was awash with blood. In the center of the room stood a familiar figure, a sword in either hand, long hair tangled and streaked with blood. The figure stepped aside, and he saw the young woman on the floor, coated in her own blood. A black bird swung at the man with the swords, and with one swing, Kree was as dead as the rest. Jasmine shrieked in horror at the sight.
Lief watched in horror as the man raised his arm. He called out in panic and made for the stairs. His foot caught on the tattered carpet and he crashed to the ground. He was forced to watch as the sword swung down, and Jasmine screamed in terror and pain. His eyes found the strange plant that had been hung from every doorway and every chandelier, hanging just above the two of them. The man noticed it too and smirked before kneeling down beside Jasmine's dying body. His lips moved, but Lief was too far away to hear the words he spoke. And then he kissed her. As the kiss broke, he plunged his hand through the gaping hole in her chest, and she gave her final cry. Lief cried out in despair and grief. Jasmine was dead. His wife was gone – the only woman he ever loved. And then the man turned to lock eyes with him.
"Barda… what happened to you?" He whispered before Barda jumped to his feet and ran towards him. A sword swung down, aimed at his neck, and with a red haze, his vision went black.
Lief bolted upright in bed, his heart beating at his ribs so hard that it hurt. Sweat poured from his head and trickled down his face, into his eyes. He remembered every detail of the dream and snapped around to the space beside him. His panic rose when Jasmine was not in bed beside him.
"Is everything alright, Lief? You look terrified." His eyes latched onto the figure by the window, and he relaxed. "Come look, I think it is going to be a white Christmas after all." She smiled. Lief got out of bed and crossed to the window. Snow had fallen sometime during the night, despite the unlikely weather conditions. According to Sharn, it had not snowed in Del for near on thirty years. "I do not like it much, Lief." He was surprised to hear that.
"Why? Is it because snow is foreign to you?" She shook her head.
"It is stupid, but… something my mother once told me, back in the Forests of Silence…" She sighed. "She said the weather mirrors the land. If it is sunny, then the land is healthy or happy. If it is cloudy, then the land isn't completely at peace. If it rains, the land is crying." He saw where this was going.
"And if it snows?"
"Snow is like frozen rain." Jasmine said quietly. "When it snows, the land is crying frozen tears." Her voice slipped into a whisper. "Because something terrible has happened." Lief's dream came back to him with a jolt, but he dared not mention it. It had been a nightmare, and nothing more. He put an arm around her and smiled.
"It is probably nothing, Jasmine. What could possibly have happened that is so terrible?" She opened her mouth to say that he was probably right when the first scream pierced the silent palace. Lief froze, and then glanced at the sky. It was dark. Midnight? "I am beginning to regret my words." He admitted to Jasmine. "We should not have slept at the palace tonight." Before she could question his words, another scream ripped through the air.
*
He focused his eyes upon the writhing figure of the palace librarian, her hands clutching at her son. She had witnessed her husband's brutal death. She would not suffer for long.
"Please," she whispered. "Not my boy." He smiled at her and grabbed her son's arm. She screamed in panic and reached for him, but he yanked him away and kicked her to the floor. "No…" Her plea was silenced instantly. The boy screamed in terror. He spun the child to face him.
"Run, Josef. Run as far away as possible. Go to Tora." He ordered. He released the boy's arm, and he ran off without needing to be told twice. He smiled, despite being covered head to toe in blood. He would not harm the children. They had done nothing wrong. He turned away from the two recent additions to his spree, and walked down to the great hall. He met with three palace guards on the way there, and he saw that they were protecting Sharn. "Stand aside, and you will be spared." He told them. None of them moved. "Are you disobeying orders?" His voice was dark and menacing. The three guards recognized the commanding voice of their chief, but his eyes were different – cold, blank, dead and empty. This was no longer the man they looked to for guidance. "Fine. Fuck my orders." He lifted his sword and waited for them to advance.
Sharn could not watch the massacre. When a shadow fell upon her, she looked up to meet those dead eyes. She knew exactly what had happened to this kind-hearted man. His lips twitched into a smirk. He cleaned his sword on his pants and unsheathed a second sword. She recognized it as Doom's.
"Should I kill you, too?" His voice was no longer hearty and cheerful. It wasn't his voice anymore. There was nothing left of the man she knew except for the facial features, and even they were disfigured with blood. "No. Perhaps not." He wasn't even talking to her. Was there any sanity left in his soul? "You were just accustomed to the old ways. You were ignorant and foolish. You will be spared, but you must leave. Do not try to take anyone with you, or I will rethink my decision to keep you alive." She nodded and hurried to get away, not doubting him for a moment. As she ran to Tora, she told herself that he hadn't killed her because deep down, a part of him remembered the kindness and care she had shown him in the time of terror. She liked to think a part of his old self still remained somewhere in that bloody shell of a man.
He watched her go with indifference. What was one life compared to the hundreds he had already taken? He continued on his way, slaughtering those who dared to stand in his way. He stopped when a familiar bird darted around his head, and a smirk crossed his face. Kree wanted him to follow, and follow he did. He spotted Jasmine tending to an injured guard in the great hall. She looked up at his approach.
"Oh! Barda, there you are! Do you know what is going on here? There appears to be a lunatic on the loose and a lot of people have been…" She trailed off when she saw the blood, the cold smirk and the dead eyes.
"Jasmine had a little bird, his feathers black as death…" He murmured darkly, "…and Kree was sure to lead me here, to take her final breath." She tried to stand, but he kicked her down in an instant, pointing her father's sword at her throat. Jasmine stared up at him, fear and panic in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but he slashed at her stomach to keep her from calling for anyone. Her scream would be passed off as anyone's. Lief would not come for her, he was sure. But he had been wrong before.
"Jasmine!" He heard the cry from somewhere behind him, but he did not need to look to know that Lief was watching from somewhere above them. Kree darted at his head, and without taking his eyes from Jasmine, he slaughtered the pest. Jasmine screamed in horror, and he laughed. This was too perfect. He swung his sword and sliced open her chest, her blood gushing out of the fatal wound. Lief ran for the stairs, but he tripped and fell, as he knew he would. His dream was becoming reality, right in front of his eyes. "No! Jasmine!" She looked up and noticed that a cluster of mistletoe hung above them from the low-hanging chandelier. Sharn had insisted on hanging the plant everywhere, something about it being festive. He had noticed it too. He knelt down beside her, the sword still at her throat.
"Little Jasmine…" He murmured. "Do you know why am I doing this?" He didn't wait for her to respond. "No one understood. No one can ever understand that I love your father. No one can accept it. They exiled us. They tried to hurt the man I love, and now I am hurting them. I heard you earlier. All of you. You are just as bad as the others." He paused. "Your eyes… so like your father's. They remind me of him."
"Did you kill him too?" She snapped. Snarling, he remembered the mistletoe and kissed her forcefully. He broke it almost instantly, and smirked coldly.
"I love him. I could never hurt him." And then he plunged his hand into her chest and ripped out the organ that was keeping her alive. She shrieked in agony before falling silent – forever. Lief cried out in despair. Jasmine was gone.
He pulled his arm from Jasmine's body and picked up the sword he'd dropped. He'd heard the cry from the balcony. He knew that Lief was waiting. With a deadly smile he stood and turned, their eyes meeting instantly. And then he ran. He charged at Lief, eyes blazing with fury. His sword lifted above his head, and Lief tried to scramble away. His feet were caught in the carpet he'd tripped on, and he couldn't untangle himself in time. A red haze swept over him, along with a bolt of electric pain, and then… darkness.
He pulled his sword from Lief's body and turned towards the entrance doors. He hated to leave now, but Doom could not wake and see him like this. He stepped into the cold winter air and stopped, surprised. A sled had been prepared, packed with what appeared to be supplies and blankets. In front of the sled were six fluffy canines, pawing at the ground and nuzzling each other. But he ignored everything else when his cold eyes fell upon the man standing at the bottom of the steps.
"Doom…" He began to panic. Was Doom leaving him? Was it because of the massacre? His daughter's death by his lover's hands? The scarred man walked up the steps and stood in front of him. Barda was vaguely aware that it had started snowing. The land is crying frozen tears… because something terrible has happened. Something warm and wet dropped onto his cheek, and he lifted a finger to wipe it off. When he looked at his fingertip, it was coated with fresh blood. He looked up, Doom following his gaze. Above them in the doorway was that cursed plant – spattered with blood.
"How perfect." Doom muttered, and met his lover's cold eyes. They came together as one, their lips finding each other's instantly. Wind blew the snow into the open doorway, coating them in the fluffy whiteness. Long minutes passed before they broke for air. "The dogs are waiting." Doom took his hand and walked back down the steps into the snow beyond. He followed, leaving reddish-pink stains in the snow.
"Why?" He murmured. He had to know. Did Doom not see the cold, dead, darkness in his eyes? Was he not afraid that he would be next?
"I love you. I trust you." Doom replied calmly. He turned and faced his blood-coated lover. "You are my darkness. My blood-spattered prince of death." He smiled now – not the same eerie smile from before, but a genuine smile. And in that smile, some of his old self shined through. He stepped onto the sled's platform beside Doom, and held on as Doom took the reins. They gazed behind them at the massacre they were leaving behind. No one would find out the truth until morning. And by then, they would be long gone. He watched Doom as the scarred man led the dogs through the city and out into the open country. He didn't know where they were going, but he didn't care, so long as Doom was beside him.
Because Doom was his light in the darkness.
His snow-speckled angel of light.
Author's Note: Okay... there we go. My second submission. This idea just would not leave me alone, so I had to write it. Personally, I adore psycho Barda. I think he's gorgeous XD I actually drew a picture of him just after he stalks over to Jasmine, so if you'd like to see it just send me an email or whatever and I'll send it along. Please don't ask how I came up with this, because I honestly have no idea XD I just got an image of Barda covered in blood and then it all began from there XD I love dark themes myself, so... I hope someone else enjoyed it XD Let me know what you think! Or else I'll send PsychoBarda to your house XD Without his angel :P
