I walked inside the Chantry today…
Almost didn't.
Almost couldn't go into that room.
The legendary evil of Dragons will always pale before the evil of Mer and Jor.
They washed off the stains at some point.
Piece of torn parchment, crumbled and discarded in the snow.
"This takes me back, it does." Daveth mused as they rode their mounts into the small, unnamed lake-side village near the Tower of Magi.
"Why is that?" Talia asked, looking at the archer as he rode proudly, wearing his new set of light Grey Warden armor. It was mostly mail and a few strategically placed plates, though the Breton supposed she wasn't actually all that different herself. Both wore a chest-plate with the symbol of the Grey Wardens, though Daveth's was of a brown metal, likely bronze or maybe something close to Dwemer metal. They both had vambraces of steel, though his were simple while hers were adorned with ornate and elaborate runes and symbols, strengthening her ties to Atherius and her own physiology.
"Just the five of us, travelling the unknown again?" Alistair mused from up ahead, steering his horse towards where they'd originally gotten them.
"'cept Jowan isn't a saucy little woman." The archer grinned, though his voice held a tinge of nostalgia at the reference to Dela. Talia didn't miss it, and doubted the two warriors in front of them did either. The mage in question, however, hadn't known Dela, and as such Jowan merely looked utterly confused, then seemed to decide he simply didn't have the energy to investigate.
There had been a decision – while Talia had been discussing theories with Brelyna – that it would be best to seek Genitivi out as the Grey Wardens, instead of a group of armed strangers. As Jowan was technically a recruit, he was taken along for the three-day ride to Kinloch, regardless of whether he wanted to go near the tower again. Talia inwardly regretted not having had the mind to bring a set of Warden robes back for him, seeing as he could now still be accosted by any and all unfriendly templars.
Still, she dismounted with Aedan's help – Gods, he looked so strong in the armor, with just the visor open to allow his face to be visible – though at this point she could technically have dismounted unassisted. It was a thing she enjoyed having him do, and it gave him an excuse to grab her hips in public.
A win-win, for both parties.
"What's going on down there?" Daveth's question brought her mind back to where it was supposed to: on the mission at hand. When she followed her companion's gesture, it was to see a pair of Templars escorting a handcuffed mage to the waiting boat at the lake-shore.
"Considering the guy's age, I'd say he's an apostate brought back to the Tower." Alistair explained, though he didn't seem inclined in any way to prevent the imprisonment of another human being. Talia had to bite down on her indignation at the scene, forcing herself to remember what she had learned about magic in Thedas.
It still did not mean she was any less fuming. The group of Wardens instead remained at their horses, looking at the scene as it unfolded.
The templar currently forcing the mage along was wearing his bucket-like helmet. The only thing that made his gender clear was his constant cursing whenever the pony-tailed mage did or said something.
"Come on, Boris, why so touchy?"
"Get in the fucking boat, Anders, I'm missing supper."
"Jeez, it's not my fault you didn't pack a proper meal before leaving."
The other templar was a woman, evident by the way she walked. Like a soldier, yes, but with more sway of her hips. She walked a good three feet behind the two of them, but didn't seem concerned enough to have her sword drawn.
"Anders, stop antagonizing him."
"But he's making it so easy."
"Don't make me smite you, Anders."
"You wouldn't do that, would you?" the mage inclined his head towards the female Templar, offering her an easy grin. Charming, almost. Talia was confused. And curious. She was still angered to witness the imprisonment of a man who's only crime likely was to be born with magic. But she was curious, especially because of the oddly casual banter.
Therefore, she started towards the scene, ignoring the words of surprise from her companions. It was obvious from the sounds behind her, that they eventually just followed her lead.
"And why is that?" the man, Boris, asked in a weary, irritated voice. The mage, Anders, shifted his attention to the speaker.
"Because I am so…cute?" Talia was close enough now that she could hear the Templar's curses and oaths even as he grumbled them out through the helmet.
"Why do I always get your escapes?"
"We're bonding, can't you tell?"
"Please, shut up, Anders." Boris growled, sounding like he was close to tears; "Other apostates are silent when we bring them back, sad! Why the Hell can't you at least keep quiet for just one hour?"
"Oh look, I have an audience!" the blonde mage exclaimed happily when he noticed Talia's presence, as well as that of the others. His eyes stayed on her though, locked onto her staff for just a moment longer than polite; "And a mage at that, too."
The female Templar turned to regard them, a change going through her stance when she seemed to realize they were Grey Wardens. Instead of an immediate greeting though, she took off her helmet.
"Knight-Lieutenant Ava." Talia recognized the woman instantly as the only female Templar she remembered meeting, and greeted her as such. Not warmly, but with the memory of receiving her aid the last time they had been at this place.
"Grey Wardens." She greeted them all in turn. Her companion, Boris, offered a respectful nod, though he kept his helmet on, and his hands on the mage; "I did not expect you back here again, now that the Circle has turned out unable to help you."
"We're not here for the Circle, actually."
"Oh?" the lieutenant seemed surprised; "I notice you seem reduced in numbers since last time. Is this a Grey Warden matter only, or can the Circle assist?"
"There is an inn nearby, called the Spoiled Princess." Alistair started, once more acting the leader he was. Talia still wasn't sure what the whole 'Grey Wardens cannot inherit' issue would mean for the plans of putting him on the throne, but if he could be groomed while traveling, there was a real chance that he might end up a proper candidate.
"…you are looking to get drunk?" Ava's tone lost a bit of the respectfulness, and gained simple confusion.
"Hey, no one's perfect." Anders mused from the side, prompting his escorting templar to simply shove him firmly into the boat. Alistair seemed to find something funny about the scene, Talia wasn't sure what it would be, however.
"We're looking for a man said to be there." He said, looking between the trio of Circle affiliates; "Do you know where it is?"
Instead of replying, Knight-lieutenant Ava simply pointed at a building behind Alistair. When he, and the rest of the group as well looked where the templar pointed, Talia could hear Alistair smack himself in the forehead. True, there was a helmet in the way, but that only served to make the clang louder.
On a large building just a few meters behind them, a sign was dangling from a pair of chains on a post, spelling out 'the Spoiled Princess' along with the image of a pig wearing a princess-crown. The style was ridiculous enough that the Breton couldn't quite keep the grin off her face.
"Would that be the inn you are looking for?" Ava mused, a slight hint of definite amusement to her voice. In the boat, the blond mage Anders was laughing hysterically, and the Templar Boris had resigned to simply slumping in the end.
Daveth was almost as bad as the captured mage, forcing a hand over his mouth in order not to laugh. Still, it even better. The Warden in mention simply shut his visor down and turned on his heels, muttering something about people in plate armor ought to jump in the lake.
"Not one word, or I swear…" Alistair groaned. Still, he turned and started to make for the inn. Talia, and this was likely the first time she had ever decided on this, remained where she was, which Alistair actually noticed; "Talia, something wrong?"
"Nothing wrong, I just wanted to ask the Knight-Lieutenant some questions." She waved them off; "You guys just head in, but come get be if it turns into a drinking game, okay?"
"Oh thank the Maker, here I was thinking you'd gone sick or something." Alistair chuckled, then simply shook his head and went inside the tavern.
Before Aedan managed to follow, Talia grabbed him by the elbow, popped open his visor and kissed him. He seemed briefly surprised, then simply went with it and kissed her back, lingering on each others lips for a few seconds, then she gave him a small shove to get him in after the others. She made sure she was facing away from the no-doubt watching eyes of at least Ser Ava.
Talia turned to regard the female templar, crossing both arms over her chest as she prepared for a conversation with a templar. Quite frankly, it was not something she wanted, but she was curious.
"I was wondering if I might ask you a question, Knight-Lieutenant?"
"…You may?"
"That man, Anders was it, he didn't seem all that downtrodden…Almost like he's used to this?"
Ser Ava sighed, but it ended as almost a groan. Still, there was a chuckle in her voice when she spoke; "He pretty much is, if you'll believe it. I think I've lost count of how many times he's tried to escape, and every time I bring him back, he does that."
"So…he's not dangerous at all?" Talia asked, narrowing her eyes to look at the mage in question, still sitting patiently in the boat, chatting up a not-so patient templar Boris.
"Knight-Lieutenant, can we please get moving?" he called, not just impatient but also annoyed. Ser Ava waved him off with an 'almost done' hand-signal, which was really just a dismissing palm-wave.
"Anders is…quite unique, in the way he seems to view the world." The Knight-lieutenant admitted; "He wasn't caught in the demon attack because he was on the run when it happened, and Boris was one of the templars sent after him, hence why he also wasn't killed. But Anders…He's a powerful mage, I will give him that, but as for using his powers to actively harm people? No, I don't think Anders had it in him to kill anyone, not even one of our Order."
"He did seem…entertained." She gave her that much; "I just…I'm having some difficulties deciding what I think about your organization at the moment."
Instead of seeming confused or even annoyed, which was what Talia had honestly expected from the templar, Ser Ava merely nodded.
"I think I understand." She replied, shifting her stance to hold the helmet under the crook of her elbow; "You did not grow up in a Circle, so you do not see its importance. You passed your Harrowing with little difficulty, and so you did not fully understand its inherent dangers before your friend failed in his trial."
"Onmund didn't fail." Talia scowled; "College mages can't be possessed."
"I spoke to Cullen after the Harrowing." Ser Ava continued, her expression not changed in the slightest; "Your friend would not wake. In the end, whether or not he lost to the demon mattered little. His body would not have been sustain him for long, and the Templar in charge of his Harrowing viewed the sword as the more merciful death."
"It was still murder."
"Every failed Harrowing is a grave loss, both to the Circle and in the loss of a life in its own right." The woman paused, glancing briefly at where the bound mage still waited in the boat; "I presided over my first Harrowing when I was but sixteen. It went well, so I did not understand the dangers until the second, where I was the one wielding the Sword of Mercy. My charge succumbed to a demon, but I refused to believe he had failed. The apprentice was a friend of mine, and my hesitation only prolonged his suffering."
"You're not helping my perception of your Order a great deal by admitting to murder yourself." Talia pointed out, though inwardly she was hard at work trying to figure out why the templar was telling her this. In the end, she simply asked; "Why are you telling me what you did?"
"Because I only wish for you to understand." Ava pressed, though her voice remained calm; "Like myself, most templars view it as a sacred duty to protect the mages we live with. We may be their watchers, but no human can live among others without growing close to some extent."
"The people trying to kill two of my friends in the Kocari Wilds didn't seem very sympathetic." The Breton grumbled, pressing her arms against the griffon-symbol. She found it frustratingly hard to focus her anger on Ser Ava, when the woman seemingly was doing everything to ease the tension.
"There…are sometimes exceptions." The woman admitted; "Especially with older templars, some come to see their duty as more that of a warden than a guardian."
"You've done this before, haven't you?" it was the only way that made sense, how Ser Ava knew what went on in her mind. The doubts, the anger, the guilt.
"Many times, yes." The Knight-Lieutenant nodded slowly. Before she continued speaking, she propped the helmet up and slid it back on; "And every demand for answers have been as justified as yours."
"Knight-lieutenant! I'm this close to pulling Anders into the lake with me if you don't make him shut up!" Boris call seemed as if timed.
Ser Ava simply gave Talia a respectful nod, turned on her heel and left. The Breton watched as the older, armored woman boarded the small boat, gave some sort of command to the men in it, and Anders promptly silenced, while Boris stated rowing.
Talia remained standing where she was, looking after the boat until she could no longer see it against the darkness of the lake. She heard someone approach from behind, likely Daveth, judging from the sound of light mail when he moved. She sighed, rubbing her neck. Divines, if this is what acceptance is, I really don't want any part of it.
"I still think the Circle needs some serious revamping, but…maybe it really is needed?" she muttered, though loud enough that Daveth, who had stopped right behind her without making his presence announced, was bound to have heard her. When he didn't answer, she turned to look at him.
The last thing she saw was a wooden club coming down.
"Anyone else think that guy was seriously scared somewhat shitless?" Daveth asked as he was the first out the door. The 'Spoiled Princess' had revealed little, least of all any signs of Genitivi, but the tavernkeep had definitely been nervous.
"He seemed to think someone was watching the place, but…" Aedan paused as he looked around. The moon was bathing the square in a soft, bright glow, and they could see the Tower of Magi in the distance. The last time they'd been here, no lights had been visible, but this time there were several dozens of bright strips of light dotting the structure; "I don't see anyone."
"Me neither." Daveth huffed, chuckling to himself; "Do you think the guy might've been a bit paranoid?"
"And Genitivi wasn't here." Alistair said; "Do you think we missed him on the way, and he's back in Denerim by now?"
"That'd just about be the most embarrassing by-pass ever." The archer shook his head. Aedan, at that point, stepped forward and pulled his visor open. He looked around, then blinked, and looked around again. He couldn't see her.
"No, I mean I literally don't see anyone." He repeated, trying to get the others' attention; "Where is Talia?"
"What do you mean, she's…right here?" Alistair paused in his speech as he finally seemed to realize what Aedan had. The younger warrior didn't understand this, and he didn't like it. It was not that he believed Talia unable of finding her way around the small village, rather the opposite.
So…where was she?
"Did she leave?" Jowan asked, glancing about. Aedan briefly looked to the former apostate, wondering what he might be thinking. Talia was the one who had proposed and conscripted him from the dungeons of Redcliffe, so he wouldn't be surprised if Jowan felt a more direct loyalty or debt to her than simple comradeship; "Why would she leave?"
"Talia!" Aedan called, feeling a sense of wrongness grow inside him. He knew it was irrational, that Talia could take care of herself. Even if a templar had tried to take her, there would at least be some definite signs of a fight. Yet there was nothing. Which meant she couldn't have been attacked; "TALIA!"
"Calm down eh? She's probably just…visiting nature, or something." Daveth suggested. Aedan looked at the archer, feeling unsure if he should be annoyed at the rouge for being so relaxed, or thankful for the offered explanation; "I once walked up on a soldier woman taking a piss outside camp…She did not want to be disturbed."
"I am somehow not surprised that you take a liking to spying on women, Daveth." Morrigan scoffed coldly, though Aedan could see her eyes flicker around the square as well. When they locked on something, Aedan turned to look, and saw that something. It was a man, a villager by the looks of it, carrying a sack of cabbage; "You there, villager, did you see where the redheaded Warden Mage went off to?"
"She the one talking to the templars?"
"Yes, she wanted to discuss something with them." Aedan explained, feeling like there was something wrong when he didn't know where Talia was.
"Right, she took the boat with them, went to the Tower." The man said, pointing at the Tower of Magi, as if there had been any doubt as to what 'Tower' he'd meant; "Seemed to be freely enough, didn't see any chains or nothing."
"Talia went to the Circle?" Alistair asked before Aedan could; "Why would she do that?"
The villager merely shrugged – because really, how would he know? –, causing a head of cabbage to fall from his sack. Jowan picked it up for him and put it back into the sack. The man nodded in thanks.
"…Thank you for your help, then." Aedan offered – what else could he? -, and sighed. The villager looked at him slightly longer than what was comfortable, then yawned;
"Don't mention it. May Andraste's mercy be with you, Grey Wardens."
"Right…you as well." Alistair replied somewhat sheepishly. When the villager – and really, who hauled around cabbages in the middle of the night? – had vanished, the Senior Warden turned to the rest of the group, and Aedan held his breath for any orders Alistair might have; "Well…at least we know where she is now, just not why."
"We're gonna get her?" Daveth asked, craning his neck to look at the Tower without turning; "You know, before she kills someone?"
"I knew we should have brought Wynne- Yes, we're going to go get her." Alistair groaned, marching towards the shore. He stopped on the pier, however, looking around; "…anyone knows where the boat is?"
It was another half hour before the boat returned, this time rowed by a rather young Templar. He seemed skittish and irritated with being stuck as ferryman, and slightly terrified at the way Morrigan scowled at him. Aedan could understand the last one, though he really could not find it in him to give a shit. Not right now.
Right now, priority was getting to the Tower before Talia killed someone.
According to the ferryman- as he rowed them across – he'd just come from supper, and hadn't seen any new mages, aside from Anders who had been laughing at something, and a man named Boris who had seemed ready to draw blank.
"She's probably going to be chewing out either Greagoir or Irving." Aedan remarked as they came closer to the shore. He wasn't sure which man he worried the most could harm his comrade, but knew he wanted neither provoked to violence. Not around her. Powerful as he knew she was, Aedan could only fear for the outcome of such a fight. He ground his teeth and gripped the prow hard; "We should really try finding her before she gets physical."
"Hopefully she's going to settle for pillagin' the First Enchanter's office." Daveth replied casually, though Aedan knew he worried too. It was obvious in the way Daveth pointedly refused to look away from the Tower.
"Hopefully, she's going to remember Duncan's words. Everything we do reflects on the Grey Wardens as a…whole…" Alistair paused. His speech made Aedan actually look away from the Tower, and to him, just as the boat reached its destination. The young Warden didn't like the way Alistair had seemed to stop talking out of…some reason Aedan couldn't yet figure out; "That's odd."
"What?" Daveth asked, even as Aedan jumped from the boat to the pier in one swift motion. His armor weighed enough that he nearly fell flat, but he grabbed a post and managed to haul himself upright, then set off for the Tower entrance without even bothering to wait for the others.
Please don't be hurt- Please don't be hurt- Please don't be hurt!
He more or less tore the doors open, at least that was how it felt, and made his way inside.
Ow.
Ow.
OW!.
OW!
Talia wanted to scream, but found she couldn't. She couldn't see, couldn't open her mouth, and could just hardly breathe. The headache in her mind was pounding her senses to a delirious state, but it was the trouble breathing that had her nearing a state of panic.
She could see nothing but darkness, but could feel her eyelids open and close, meaning something was held over her eyes. She couldn't see what, and was growing too pained already again to gather sufficient coherency to figure it out. She only knew that she was lying down, on a hard surface, and that said surface was moving, making it likely to be a cart.
What had happened?
Where was she?
And where the hell was she going?
When Aedan made his way into the Tower proper, followed by the rest of the group – even Morrigan had seemingly seen no other course but to enter – he only grew increasingly concerned by the fact that the people inside, most of them Templars now, seemed surprised to see them.
Maybe it was just that they hadn't expected more Wardens this soon, but a part of Aedan's mind – a part that was slowly getting louder – was screaming at him that they were all surprised to see Wardens at all. Which would have meant Talia wasn't here.
In which case, he wasn't sure what to do, other than accept that the villager had for some reason lied to them.
"Aedan?" Alistair called from behind him, his voice slightly winded from having to jog and talk simultaneously. In Aedan's mind, their leader had wasted precious time explaining something to Daveth. The subject didn't matter, only that it had slowed them down.
So Aedan didn't stop to talk, instead intent on tracking down Talia, or at least someone who could confirm she was here. Right now, either would be fine, but he sensed he wouldn't be finding the latter, and he had no clue as for where to search for the former now.
"Aedan, slow down."
But Aedan wasn't in the mood for slowing down. Each step marked more of the Tower where Talia wasn't, and narrowed the area where she could be. Each step also increased the rate of his beating hear, causing the adrenaline to flood his legs and make it seem like he wasn't even walking, but floating in a mist of anxiety and concern.
"Grey Wardens?" the man who stopped them in the hallway was familiar, but it took Aedan several seconds to recognize him as Knight-Commander Greagoir. The man was as usual in armor, head free and arms held behind his back; "Well, this does save me the raven to Redcliffe."
"Is she here?" Aedan wasn't sure if he was shouting, but Greagoir's expression seemed surprised regardless; "Talia, the redheaded Warden Mage, is she here?"
"Aedan, I don't think-" Alistair started, but Aedan simply waved him off. This was not what he would normally even consider doing – cutting Alistair off in this way – but concern, unease and need brought his thoughts to center on just one thing: where Talia was.
"Talia?" Greagoir asked, greyish brows furrowed in thought, or maybe it was an attempt at remembering her – it should be hard, considering she had saved the Circle! – then shook his head; "I have not seen her, nor did Knight-Lieutenant Ava make me aware of her arrival beyond meeting her in the town…She left her there, as I understand it, when she and Knight-Sergeant Boris brought Anders back."
"Oh for fuck…" Daveth groaned behind him, but Aedan didn't pay any attention to him. Instead, he stepped closer to the Knight-Commander, desperate for answers. Greagoir seemed slightly uneasy with the closed distance.
"Ava- where is she? Can I talk to her? Or Boris, or Anders?"
"…Wardens, has something occurred that I should know of?" the Knight-Commander asked in a slow, measured tone.
"We think something…may have happened to our comrade." Alistair said, as Aedan was trying to process how this had all so quickly spiraled out of control. One minute, he'd kissed Talia and left her to talk with the templars outside the tavern. Now…she was gone; "She is nowhere to be found…Your subordinates were the last to see her, can we….?"
"Of course." Greagoir nodded, and grabbed a passing Templar by the shoulder; "Find me Knight Lieutenant Ava and have her brought to the main entrance."
"Yes, Knight-Commander." The man replied and took off down the hallway. Aedan stared at his departing back as if it would make the templar return faster.
As it turned out, the man actually did return surprisingly fast. He brought with him the same woman Aedan remembered from both their stays at Kinloch, Ser Ava. Seen in actual light, instead of the halfway illuminated glow from one of the moons – he couldn't even at this point bring his mind to remember which – the Knight-Lieutenant looked older than her voice had given him the impression off, with the hair tied into a bun over a face set in furrows of deep seriousness.
"You wanted to see me, Knight-Commander?" she saluted Greagoir with a hand over her fist, as well as offering respectful – but disturbingly surprised – head-bows to Aedan and the others. He didn't feel in the slightest comforted; "Wardens."
"Knight-Lieutenant, am I correct in assuming you did indeed leave Grey Warden Talia, the woman we initially held here for a short duration, on the shores by the pier, and that she was perfectly well at that point?" Greagoir demanded more than asked, though his voice stayed level. It seemed he wanted to conduct this questioning himself, which Aedan was totally fine with. As long as it got them the information they needed.
"Yes, Ser." Ser Ava nodded, her voice firm; "She seemed curious at Anders' behavior, but did not seem willing to accompany us, mainly because she was waiting for…You." the last was turned at Alistair's group, and at this, Ser Ava's confusion was understandable; "I do not see her with you."
"Because we seem to have… misplaced her." Alistair ground out, his irritation clear; "When you left her, was she…fine? Alright? Unharmed?"
"Yes, she seemed perfectly healthy and unworried upon my departure."
"Did you see anyone with her? Around her? Maybe sneaking in on her or just looking at her?"
"There were people around, but I must confess I did not pay attention to them more than passing glances."
"…would one happen to have been a villager with a sack of cabbage?" Daveth tried wearily, shifting on his feet.
"…I think I would have remembered that." Ser Ava replied, but without scorn; "I am sorry, but…I do not know what occurred after we departed."
Bump.
Ow!
Bump.
Ow!
Bump.
Ow!
Bump.
Fuck!
The surface she was lying on kept rumbling, and every time what she assumed were its wheels passed over a stone, she was jostled and slammed down into the planks. Her back was aching at this point, and her head was searing with pain.
She couldn't move even a finger, couldn't cast any magic, and could only shiver as rain started pelting her. No one seemed in a hurry to cover her up, which meant they were apparently far enough from civilization that her captor or captors dared simply having her lying in the back of their cart, uncovered.
Each drop was big and heavy, and whatever clothes she had on – she could feel the drops hitting her chest, meaning they had taken her Warden-piece – were soon soaked to a clingy fabric, which hugged her body and cooled her down to the point where her body became wracked with shivers.
"Cover her up. We need her alive when we get back." A male voice said.
"What do you mean?" a woman replied with clear irritation. Whether it was from walking in the rain or having to be a decent human being, Talia couldn't process. She was cold, and she was wet and she was Cold.
"Hypothermia. She's going to die from cold at this rate." The same man – or was it another? – replied.
"What, you want me to give her my coat?"
"I don't know, just find something."
"There's a roll of cow-hide in the cart." A new voice, a man, said; "Toss that over her and shut it."
"You think she's awake?" the woman asked, followed by a grunt of effort as Talia could hear someone – likely the woman – jump into the cart close to her; "Where's the hide?"
"Back of the cart."
"Who cares? We'll be there soon enough, and the Revered Father can deal with her."
"I wonder what she's thinking, if she's awake, you know?"
"Who. Cares." The same man replied coldly; "She's a sodding heretic, what do I care what she's thinking?"
"Shit, she's lying on part of it." The woman – maybe there was only one? – muttered; "Bren, she's lying on it."
"So?" the man apparently named 'Bren' replied with a scoff; "Even if she's awake, she's in a stasis. Just roll her off, or something."
Talia wasn't being asked, something which became painfully obvious when a pair of hands roughly shoved her aside, and ripped something out from underneath her. Whatever it was, it had apparently been a lot softer than she'd thought, because when she ended up back on the boards, they were so much more painful to lie on, she actually managed a grunt of pain, even while the heavy, smelling skins were tossed onto her.
"She made a sound."
"What?"
"The Warden, she made a sound…Think she's awake?" the woman asked.
"Don't care."
"I'm just gonna check right quick." The woman offered. Talia forced her eyes consciously shut, and forced her breathing into the most relaxed pattern possible. Before more than ten seconds had passed, the light on the other side of her eyelids, and the rain started pelting her in the face again. Each drop was cold. Very cold, and felt like hard flickers into her cheeks, lips and eyes; "Hey, hey, hey are you awake?"
Each 'hey' was punctuated by a poke to her face, and Talia couldn't turn her head away or even bite the finger. She forced herself to remain calm – this was a scenario Father had often worried she could face – and pressed her eyes shut. She wanted nothing more than to kill whomever this woman was, and drag it out in a long and inhumane way.
Then her eyelids were forced open. The fingers were hard and insensitive, and Talia felt tears filling her eyes at the intense pain of being poked in the eyeball. Then followed the rain, where each drop hitting her eye like a punch, and she couldn't maintain the façade any longer. Her eye tracked the woman's face, and directed as much hatred as possible at the plain face with bright blue eyes and blonde hair falling down around her face in a cascade of wet gold.
"Theeeere you are." Somehow, the Pride Demon in Kinloch had nothing on this woman's grin in terms of just how horrifying it was. And there was nothing Talia could do, but stare. She couldn't move a muscle aside from her eyes, and even the action of breathing was as troubled as ever. The inability to take action, of any kind, was one of Talia's most base fears.
Then came the fist, and the world went black again.
I'm not really sure here...does this make the story a 'M' for the angst, or can it still be called a 't' story? I hope so, because I took unreasonable pleasure from Talia's parts.
I'm a sick individual...I think.
I decided to give the original plot a kick in the ass, basically because I'd planned on just taking it as the game went, then decided to just go with this instead, and honestly? I dig this version. I also realize that the chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but... I think this way works better, just for once. Look at it as a sort of introduction to the next part of the story, or...well, or just as another chapter.
I dunno, I'm kinda tired, so I'll just wish you guys a good night and good luck. No question tonight, really, other than my base desire to know what you thought of today's update?
