A/N: Okay, so Lorne and an OC in a totally different multichap are arguing more bitterly than most bad breakup divorcees I've met in my life. It's been months that Lorne and I have been arguing over it, and I'm just done. I've shelved that project until he and the OC can work things out…or I just give up and kill him for good; whichever happens first.
In the meantime, I've been caught up in another multichap that is flowing so well I expect to be finished before the end of February. So, the Evil OverLorne has demanded that I do this teaser now or I will not be allowed to sleep. Yes, he really is that much of a bastard sometimes. But, well, I'm a masochist, so I guess it all works out. Lol
So here is a teaser I hope will still be accurate by the time I finish this latest one. Even if it isn't, it was still fun to write, and I'm sure someone will enjoy it. Or they'll hate it and flame me forever. Blame Lorne, he made me do it.
Enjoy!
Yann enjoyed the early evenings, right after sunset. The sky was a dark blue on one half and black of night on the other with stars scattered throughout each side. In his mind, it was one of the most peaceful times on any planet. Most of the people were settling down to dinner and quiet end of day activities. Even children had quieted and were no longer running in the streets. It was a calm he rarely got to feel for himself. But, tonight, he took a few moments to let it sink in; because all too soon he would be shattering that peace with the screams of his prey.
He had already figured out his target was in the tavern just across the commons in this quaint village. He was almost surprised that the calm moment of the sunset and onset of night was enough to silence the voice he often heard in the back of his head. That voice had been his companion for as long as he could remember and was more than a mere annoyance. It was bordering on driving him mad at times. But the peace and quiet of this scene seemed to have even impressed it into appreciative silence.
Moment over, Yann refocused his attention on the growing shadows all around him. Already everyone was at home and gathered around their dinner tables or fires relaxing. This was the hour the tavern would be the quietest. Just a few young men and widowers would be there, along with a handful of women trying to make a living in any way they could. This would make his job so much easier. It was always more difficult when he had to make a scene, or try to take someone in daylight with witnesses. Executing someone and bringing back their head as proof was simply easier with fewer witnesses or people attempting to object. Somewhere deep in the shadows of his mind he felt something stir. He never had liked being an assassin, but if that's what his goddess—blessed be she in all her mercy and wisdom!—wanted, then he would obey.
Briefly Yann smiled in pure joy at the very thought and mental image of his goddess. Her vibrant red hair and yellow eyes enthralled him when he was given permission to look upon her beauteous glory. Most of the time he was equally happy to lay at her feet like an animal waiting for her to bless him with her affection. Yes, he was unworthy to be her pet, even. But he hoped one day to please her enough to see her smile, just once. Others may call him Wraith worshipper with loathing in their voices and expressions, but he would gladly accept their scorn for her happiness. He had no recollection of life before her, and couldn't imagine there being life before her perfect beauty, boundless mercy, and the eternal life she had blessed him with.
That thought sobered him and brought him back to the present. Dying was the least he would have to worry about should he fail her. Her displeasure alone would rend his entire being. Now focused on the task at hand, Yann entered the tavern. As he had predicted, there were no more than half a dozen men sitting scattered around the room. His target was sitting near the wall to his right, engaged in happy, animated conversation with an older patron. Calm and certain in his course of action and capabilities, he approached the table without hesitation.
The man's dark brown eyes greeted his with a brief smile that Yann did not return. He knew this man had angered his goddess, and now he would pay for it. Perhaps it was something in his expression that gave it away, because he hadn't even spoken the man's goddess-given name when he stood from his conversation backing away in terror.
"No! No! You can't! It was an accident. I didn't mean—" the man started, his eyes wide in fear.
"What's going on here?" the older gentlemen he had been speaking with cut in, staring down Yann threateningly.
"This is none of your concern," Yann informed him coldly. "Leave, and you will not be harmed."
"No, please! You can tell her! It was an accident!"
"Just what do you mean—"
"Oy! What's going on here?" one young man called as three of them approached from the other side of the room.
Yann stepped sideways reflexively to ensure all parties were within his visual range while positioning himself firmly between his target and the door to keep him cornered. His cold, piercing blue eyes fixed firmly on his target and keeping the others in his peripheral, he had already planned his next move should the worst happen. It was supposed to be a simple execution. This delay was just bothersome.
"As I said, this is none of your concern. If you all walk away peacefully, no harm will come to you. If you persist in interfering with our business, you will all die."
"Nelu, what's going on? Who is this?" the older man asked his silent, trembling friend.
Suddenly those dark eyes flashed. Yann knew he wasn't going to like it, and wasn't surprised at what happened next.
"He's a Wraith worshipper! He's come to kill me!"
For a moment there were gasps of shock and angry mutters. Yann didn't bother giving them a chance to do more. In a blur of motion he tore through all five of them with his hands and his feet. In seconds the fight was over, not a one of them having had the chance to so much as react. With a vicious grip on one man's throat, he downed the last one by slamming him down on the top of a table. The knife appeared in his hand as if by magic as he prepared to slit this younger man's throat as his goddess had ordered. Taking the man's head back with him would be sufficient proof that the execution had been completed successfully.
Suddenly the voice in his head re-appeared louder than it had been in a while, causing him to hesitate. With his knife still poised inches from the man's throat, he met the wide, terrified nearly black eyes of his victim. For a moment, the voice in his head was all he could hear, all he could think, all he could feel.
Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three nine eight two one eight. May sixth nineteen seventy. Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three nine eight two one eight. May sixth nineteen seventy. Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three nine eight two one eight. May sixth nineteen seventy.
On and on the voice went, loud enough to make him want to rage back at it. Slowly the knife disappeared back into its sleeve sheathe and the voice softened considerably, but still continued.
Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three nine eight two one eight. May sixth nineteen seventy.
Taking a deep, calming breath, Yann forced the voice to a hum in the back of his head. No, he would not slit his throat and then take back the head. His goddess would enjoy giving her personal attention to this one, instead. He had betrayed her, after all. Smiling at the idea of how pleased she would be with him for bringing her a new plaything, Yann struck with the speed of a viper, knocking Nelu unconscious. Hefting the body easily up onto his shoulders, he headed back to the gate.
Maybe his goddess would be pleased enough to let him see her smile, finally. His heart raced with the thrill of this thought as he jogged back out of the village toward the gate. But even that joyous thought could not completely silence the voice in his head that still demanded it be heard.
Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three nine eight two one eight. May sixth nineteen seventy. Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three nine eight two one eight. May sixth nineteen seventy. Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three nine eight two one eight. May sixth nineteen seventy. Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three nine eight two one eight. May sixth nineteen seventy. Evan Lorne. Lieutenant Colonel, United States Air Force. Five seven three….