[A/N]: shuffled a bit with what I had originally planned for the chapters. I hope you enjoy it. The last scene is specifically for all who asked for it.
Song is Cold by Maroon 5.
"Have you been behaving yourself?" Richard asked, the amusement clear on his face and in his voice. There were bags beneath his eyes, which brought out the brightness of his eyes. His hair was dirty, though, and his armour was covered in mud in some places.
Gwen almost felt bad for the human as she shrugged in response. Almost. "I do my best."
The dh'oine grinned, dimples appearing in the flesh of his cheeks. Then he nodded at her. "How's your arm?"
"It's fine," the half-elf responded. Without thinking, she placed a hand on the bandages. They hadn't been refreshed in quite a while, but she doubted that was necessary at this point.
"And your new friend giving you any trouble?" His blue eyes cut towards the figure who sat against wall at the back of the cell, his head bent forward as he snored.
With a sigh, Gwen got up from her spot and stepped towards the grate. "Why are you here?"
Richard looked both ways before he leaned closer, his nose almost touching the bars. "We've received word that Stennis is on his way back. There seems to have been some trouble in Vergen, but he'll arrive soon. Tomorrow, or maybe the day after."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Well, because…" The man lifted his shoulders and raised his arms in a wild gesture. "Then maybe you could prepare yourself. Mentally."
"Prepare myself mentally for my death." Gwen nodded, her arms crossed in front of her chest and her back straight. "Understood."
Blanching, Richard looked taken aback. Sometimes the half-elf just couldn't help but wonder what kind of sheltered life this man had to have led. Or how he had managed to work his way up to whatever he was right now without realising the realities of this world. "What have you done that would warrant a death sentence? You haven't killed anybody, have you?"
With a hum, Gwen tilted her head to the side and bit back a laugh. Instead, she said, "We had a deal and I broke my end of the bargain."
Even though she hadn't had any choice in the matter.
And just like that, something clicked.
Her limbs trembled, hands clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white. Anger rose from the depths of her mind, wild and raging and burning every thought it touched.
She may have broken her part of the deal. Stennis, on the other hand, had never kept his in the first place. 'Second chance' her ass, he had sold her, betrayed her even before he had tempted her with the offer. And now he dared place the responsibility at her feet. She would pay for a situation he had forced her in.
With a roar, Gwen slammed her fist against the wall and let these feelings of frustration out by screaming. The satisfaction of the few crumbs of stone that fell to the ground was overshadowed by the burst of pain that erupted in her hand and ran all the way up to her shoulder.
As if out of nowhere, the nameless man stood behind her, his face devoid of emotion. His eyes cut towards Richard, whose hands were poised as if ready to catch her, before they moved towards hers. Gwen's shoulders heaved as she tried to catch her breath from the sudden flare of emotions. Her breath whistled through teeth, which she ground together to keep the rest of her rage bottled up.
The conversations that the other inmates had been having until then seemed to have died down. Only the sounds of life from outside of the dungeon seeped in through the cracks of the wall – the few birds singing and people murmuring and merchants shouting – and somewhere a drop of water kept hitting the ground. Other than that, Gwen's heavy breathing was all that could be heard.
Until Richard cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "You know I can't really understand any of this if you refuse to answer my questions."
"She doesn't have to answer your questions," a baritone voice stated.
"I… I get that. And I understand that she doesn't trust me. And…" He trailed off and his entire body seemed to deflate. "I'm sorry. But whatever… whatever happened between Stennis and you, I'm sure he will decide to do the right thing. He's been a righteous ruler until now, although since his father's death he hasn't had a lot of time to prove himself." After a moment of hesitation, he took a step back and left with a small smile.
Once his footsteps had receded, rounding a corner somewhere in the distance before disappearing completely, the man without a name moved away from her. He returned to his seat at the back of the cell and, with a grunt, sat down against the wall.
Gwen leaned her shoulder against the stones and watched him. "Thanks."
"No problem," came the gruff response.
"But I could've handled it myself," the half-elf added as she padded over to her corner.
His gaze caught hers before it moved back to the space between his feet, which he had planted against the ground. "Sorry. Couldn't help myself. Was getting on my nerves."
Gwen stared at the ceiling. After the sudden outburst, she felt even more tired than she had grown accustomed to these days. When she closed her eyes, however, sleep would not come to her. She couldn't help thinking of the hurt look on Richard's face. How she had recognised herself in him.
The old her from before everyone, from before her mother's death and Elric and everything else. The her who had only wanted to be with her father, who had wanted to make him proud. Who had only wanted his acknowledgement.
Gnawing on her lower lip, the half-elf closed her eyes and found her sinking into a spiral of memories. Of every time her father had ruffled her hair. Of every time he had pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She thought of Videmont, who had been born a year after her. Being human as well as the queen's firstborn son, of course he had been favoured by everyone. Even so, her father had tried his best to keep everyone happy. In the end, Videmont and she had become as close as proper siblings, though she recalled little of it; most of what she knew came from her mother.
All she herself remembered of Videmont, was one particularly sunny day, the only one where the whole family had come together and not one nasty remark had been made. It had been the day Videmont's first and only daughter was born. Somehow, she had been the first one to be summoned, a panting servant standing in front of their front door and wheezing, "It's… time…!"
She had dragged her mother all the way to the palace. In front of the room in which his wife was giving birth, Videmont had been pacing back and forth, a hand clasped over his mouth. He had greeted her with a hug, his shaking limbs refusing to let her go even when the queen arrived moments later.
Her mother and the queen had exchanged nothing more than a neutral glance, which was the best thing that could possibly happen when one put them in the same room. When her father arrived, he had placed a hand on both their shoulders and pulled them to his sides as a grin spread across his face. Gwen never saw her mother happier than in that moment.
Videmont had not let go of her hand while they waited, listening to the wails that came from the other side of the door. His fingers had squeezed hers at every sound and she had squeezed back just as hard while they fixated their gazes on the massive wooden door.
When, finally, said door had opened and a nurse gestured for Videmont to come inside, the half-elf had offered him a smile before pushing him towards the room. He had gone reluctantly, dragging his feet across the carpet. The others had to remain outside.
Before long, it had swung open once more. This time, Videmont had stepped outside holding a tiny bundle in his arms, a grin on his face. Tears had glittered in his eyes and, all but ignoring his mother, he had held the baby out for Gwen.
That moment she could remember as clear as though it was the day itself. She even knew the exact thoughts that had gone through her mind, what she had felt. She had been surprised by the fact that he had chosen her to hold his child first, and a strange sense of pride had swelled inside of her as she took the child in her arms.
Her niece. Half-niece, if one delved into the technicalities, but she had seen Videmont too much as her brother to even consider that.
The half-elf had all but cried when her brother had asked her if she wanted to become the girl's guardian. Though the look the queen had shot her had not gone unnoticed, Gwen couldn't have cared less in that moment, and she had nodded.
And she had been the best damn guardian to have ever existed. She paid the price for that when Agnes ran off to marry Esteril years later, but in that moment, she had had no idea of what the future held in store for her. Did not know that, within seven years, she would fall in love and have a child of her own. Did not know that that would ultimately lead to her demise.
Within five years, her father had died, his last wish being that she "took care of herself." Soon afterwards, Videmont had been crowned king. Having no more time to spend with her, he had neglected her when she had needed him the most, and so instead she had sought the company of a handsome man she had recently met on her way to the market.
Elric had been more than willing to take care of her, and in turn she had fallen in love with him. The thing about meeting someone when at one's lowest, however, was the fact that one depended on them for any kind of stability. Despite his switch in personality, despite her mother's warnings, she could not have left him, since she had needed him to stand.
Which was why she had crashed so very badly once he left. Videmont had caught her that day, had heard of what had happened. But when he did not vow revenge on her account, could offer her no more than a sympathetic pat on the back, she had known that whatever the two of them had had was long gone.
As if Gwen had buried all of this deep inside of her, memories from the period afterwards came to her while she sat in that cold dungeon cell on a pile of straw. The feelings she had saved for her son, she had poured into her niece, despite her broken relationship with the girl's father. She had watched from afar as Agnes fell in love with the young count from Kovir, stricken with fear that she would go through the same.
When Agnes eloped, Gwen had been the first target on Videmont's warpath. She could not recall the exact words that they had exchanged, but knew that had been the last time she had spoken to her brother. It hadn't taken long before he became a grandfather, and by then there would have been no place for the half-elf to begin with.
Stuck in her memories, just before she fell asleep, Richard appeared before her. This time she stood beside him.
With a sigh, Gwen pushed the food around in her bowl with her spoon. Her head felt woozy and her stomach growled softly, but she simply did not feel like eating. Still, she brought a spoonful to her lips and ate it. Since waking up that day, her head had been pounding relentlessly. Perhaps some food would help with that.
Taking her time with the meal, she had barely gotten halfway through it when her cellmate approached her, clutching something in his hands.
"Up for a game?" was all that he asked when he raised the object in his hand.
"…cards?" Gwen asked, lowering her bowl to the floor and tilting her head.
Without waiting for a response, the nameless man sat down in front of her, already shuffling through the pack. Gwen watched the flurry of cards before accepting the two that were handed to her, one face up – a four of spades – and one face down.
"Still remember how to play?" her opponent asked, and the half-elf almost thought she heard a teasing note in his voice.
"Depends on what we're playing." Gwen straightened her back, her eyes never leaving her cards – the four of spades and a six of diamonds – even as she kept the man in her vision.
He placed the rest of the pack to the side as he peeked beneath one of his cards, the other being a nine of clubs. "Some good ol' Blackjack." When Gwen hesitated, he continued, "Gotta go to twenty-one, but not over. Whoever ends closest to it wins. You want another card, then grab it. If not, then don't."
"Right." She reached for another card – a five of spades – and went for another. A three of hearts. Biting her lip, she nodded once.
As she watched the nameless man add cards to his pile, she frowned. Why were they doing this? Where had he even gotten these cards? What did he want to accomplish with this? Entertain her? …distract her?
He revealed his cards, placing them on the stones in front of him, face up. Twenty. Scowling, Gwen bared her eighteen and her opponent grinned as he gathered her cards and placed them on the ground next to him. Before she knew it, she had been assigned two new cards – a king of diamonds face up and a four of hearts face down.
"King, queen and joker is worth ten. Aces are either one or eleven," the other offered and revealed a seven of diamonds.
When he was done, she moved to grab another card, gnawing on her lip once more. She found it hard not to ask him something. Anything. His name, for starters. But after how he had repelled Richard, she owed him his privacy. Still, that didn't mean there were other ways of doing this.
A two of clubs.
"My name," she said and took another card from the pile. When his gaze settled on hers, one bushy brow raised, she went on, "What is it?"
His expression gave nothing away when he replied, "Gwen."
Three of spades.
She nodded again and watched as he began to collect his cards before flinging them onto the floor with a groan. Seven of diamonds, three of clubs, six of clubs and queen of hearts were hers for the taking.
"How 'bout mine?" he asked, the corner of his lips quirking upwards. Without looking away from her, he dealt two more cards to both of them, the challenge visible in his expression. He knew much more than he let on, it seemed.
"James." Ace of spades face up. Grinning, she flipped the queen of clubs. Twenty-one.
With a snort and a shake of his head, he handed his nine of spades and eight of hearts to the half-elf. "Do I even wanna know how you figured that out while you were busy spacing out the entire trip?"
"These ears don't look like this for nothing," Gwen murmured, running a finger along the edge of her ear.
Just as suddenly as the comradery had appeared, it slipped away, just like his smile. All traces of amusement gone, James leaned forward and whispered, "Why don't we make this game a little more… interesting?"
Gwen dug her nails into her knees and bit her lip, her teeth easily slipping into the indents she had left there by now. Of course, nobody could ever just let her be. They all needed something from her.
"What is it?" she asked. If she hadn't been too busy taming her anger, she might have been surprised by the coldness in her voice.
It didn't seem to faze James, though. "Let's make a deal. If I win, you add me to whatever plan you've got brewing with that guy of yours who came by the other day."
"And if I win?" To tell the truth, she didn't even know if Quinn was 'brewing' anything to begin with. Still, it couldn't hurt for this man to think her useful.
"I don't make whatever you're planning difficult. Simple."
"Right. Simple." Either way, she wouldn't really lose. Even if there was going to be a plan, if this guy was that desperate to get out of here, then that meant he wouldn't fuck it up to begin with.
Needless to say, by the time the guards found out James had stolen their pack of cards and confiscated it, Gwen was one potential companion richer.
With wide eyes, Gwen took in the sight before her, mouth slack. She hadn't thought he would have the nerve to show himself to her. Not like this. She hadn't even expected that he'd have the time for it in the first place, being a royal prince and all that.
Yet here he stood, tall and proud with his golden armour, on the other side of her cell door. From all sides, inmates hung against the grates, pressing their faces against the iron as if that would help them see or hear better.
Gwen, on the other hand, remained seated in her corner, arms cradling her knees to her chest as she stared at him. James sauntered closer towards Stennis, as if to block her from his sight. That only caused her to grit her teeth, and so she pushed herself up, although not as quickly as she'd have liked. The result of not eating enough, she supposed.
"What do you want?" she asked, her voice raspy and less intimidating than she would have liked.
Stennis frowned as he took her in, his head moving up and down as he swept his eyes across her form. "Have they not been feeding you?"
"Oh, they've been feeding my aplenty." Gwen stopped in front of James, just far away enough from the cell door to not reach out and wrap her fingers around Stennis's throat, and crossed her arms over her chest, squared her shoulders. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to see how you were doing," he said.
Narrowing her eyes, she asked, "Before you sentence me to death?"
The prince had the gall to look appalled, and Gwen heard James shift in his spot behind her.
"Sentence you to death? Why would I do such a thing?"
"Oh, please," Gwen snapped with a roll of her eyes. "What else are you going to do with me? Keep me here until I die? Is that you want you want? To turn me into a pet, a symbol?" She perked up and lifted a finger, gasping. "Oh! I know! Surely you're waiting to sell me again?"
When Stennis sighed, it sounded like he was a thousand years old and had seen enough for at least four lifetimes. And perhaps he had, but Gwen couldn't find it in her to care. "That… was a mistake, and I have to admit it wasn't one of my best moments. I had never thought it would end up like… this." He gestured rather vaguely with one of his gauntlets.
"You mean, you didn't mean for me to end up treated like cattle, hunted, raped, beaten and broken, captured by elves and forced to live among them, only to eventually find myself back here in the city where your kind father murdered my mother when he actually wanted to kill me?" Her eyes pricked, but she squeezed her voice past her tightening throat and somehow managed to keep her tears in check. "And that he didn't even have the courage to do it himself? So, it's not the case that you felt exactly the same when you decided to make me somebody else's problem? And now you're not actually deciding to finish me off yourself after all? Is that it?"
"I understand it might look like that, but you could at least try to see this situation from our perspective," Stennis stated, pressing his lips into a thin line.
"Right, apologies. I, the inconvenient bastard, shall try my best to see the entire disaster that has been my life from the perspective of the royal family that had no choice but to exile its last remaining distant relative in order to keep its reputation intact." Fisting the fabric of her tunic and tugging it to the sides, Gwen curtsied.
Stennis sighed once more. "Whatever the case, I am not here for whatever it is you think." He rubbed the back of his neck, his armour moving noisily when he lifted his arm. "I have not yet decided what it is I will do with you. For now, the matter of my coronation is filling my schedule and is therefore currently my priority.
"Right, of course. Your coronation. What was I thinking?" The half-elf smacked a hand against her forehead. "Of course your coronation is more important than the matter of my punishment for being alive."
Behind her, James choked back a chuckle while the king to-be nodded. As if he were pleased that she had finally understood the situation.
To add fuel to the fire, Gwen used the most pleasant voice she could possibly muster and asked, "Your coronation. When is it due?"
"Tomorrow."
Now it was Gwen's turn to almost choke, and not because of a laugh. She could handle knowing her impending doom was moving closer with every passing moment. Having an exact date on when it would arrive, however, was a different matter.
"It might take me a while to get back to you, though. There will be the matter of the summit at Loc Muinne to deal with afterwards, although I will not be going in person," Stennis added.
"What do you mean, summit at Loc Muinne?"
"What do you mean, summit at Loc Muinne?"
Iorveth levelled Ivor with a steady gaze, his jaw set as the cogs in his mind worked overtime. "What I said. Once we are back in Vergen, when all this is over and done with, we might have to leave for the summit at Loc Muinne."
"I'm trying to say that I don't know what summit you are talking about." The other elf lowered his brows, narrowed his eyes at his friend. "Iorveth, I… When did you stop telling me everything? I used to know every thought that crossed your mind. What happened?"
They stood in front of a glowing campfire, surrounded by other Aen Seidhe. Everyone was tense enough without their leader and his most loyal subordinate fighting, what with the upcoming battle, Saskia's poisoning and, to top it all off, his actions concerning a certain inh'eid. Although none dared comment what he had done – barring those who approved, that is – he had to have lost both eyes to miss the looks he received.
"Ivor." The commando leader inhaled and examined the grass between them, which was orange in the light of the fire. "I think it best if you were to retreat to Flotsam for a while. To make sure everything is in order at the camp."
Ivor laughed, the sound hesitant when it left his throat. When Iorveth remained still, it died down just as soon as it had appeared. "You are serious?"
"Very much so," the other stated, nodding once.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, so he closed it again. Something flashed through his grey eyes, something Iorveth had never seen before, before he clenched his hands and straightened his back.
"All right." Ivor turned to the side, all his usual grace having left him as he moved jerkily. "You are right. I will depart at once."
Iorveth watched him leave and tried his best to remember having heard him speak so coldly before. When he came to the conclusion that that, too, was a first, he asked himself how Ivor had grown so close to the inh'eid. Then again, how had he grown so close to her?
He shook his head and ran a gloved hand through his thin, greasy hair. When all this chaos was over with, the first thing Iorveth wanted to do was take a bath. The sight of her assaulted him then, naked and waiting for him, and he all but winced. That didn't change the effect the image had on his body, and for the first time since the clammy heat had settled, Iorveth was glad for his many layers.
Betray a woman and then fantasise about her. What had he sunken to?
No. This was all just part of the plan. If he gave up now, all would have been for naught.
And so Iorveth exhaled through his nose and sought out his bedroll, knowing they had to leave at first light.
In the meantime, Ivor packed his things, though that mostly consisted of slinging his bow and arrows over one shoulder and his bedroll over the other.
"Do not worry about me," he told his comrades before he left. "Concentrate on the battles that lie ahead. And keep an eye on the commander for me."
They nodded and looked at each other. Wanting to ask something, but not daring to. Many of them had looked to him for guidance in these uncertain times, but he had not been able to offer them more than encouraging words. The crevice that had appeared in his relationship with Iorveth had not exactly helped, either.
It would take him a day to reach the main road leading to and from Vergen. Perhaps longer, depending on whether or not Geralt had already lifted the curse that had caused the mist to appear around the town. From there, if he followed the main path, it would take him two more days on foot to get to Flotsam.
He wouldn't, however.
The next evening, just as the world around him was growing dark and it would soon become time for him to set up camp, he arrived at the main road, finding it deserted and bathed in the deep red of the sunset. It was here that, instead of finding the path that led to Flotsam, he turned south and made his way towards Vengerberg.
He had an inh'eid to find after all.