A/N: Yes, I'm alive! (yay for some, boo for the rest :P) Sorry I haven't updated in *blinks* months…*cringe* but school's just finished! (YAY, YR 9 IS OFFICIALLY OVER PEEPS) So I have time to write endlessly. This chap is –nearly- done. Just needs a bit more creativity, and it's ready! Here's a little snippet!

Last Straw

A groan escaped my lips as I very slowly came to in the backstreet of the inn. Before I was able to drag my eyes open, I heard similar groans start up near me. I felt completely nauseated. As soon as I sat up, I winced as the tight rope around my hand moved in its place and cut into rubbed, raw skin. I couldn't do anything but blink painful tears away and get my bearings straight.

After the dizziness quit disrupting my vision, and I was able to move around less sorely, I looked about me.

Roald! I thought in a sudden frenzied panic.

My eyes flew to the two figures laying next to me; one was too quickly coming to. Careful not to curse too loudly, I dragged myself onto my feet quietly, and slowly approached the aching figure on the rough ground. Again, I grimaced as the rope tugged at my sensitive wrists. I held them up painfully when I stood over Atkin's awakening form, and allowed the hatred and disgust that had been welling up in me take control as I swiftly brought the scrunched-up back of my fists against his exposed head. It was the sensitive and softest part of the back of his head that I threw my energy at, since that was the easiest way of knocking an assaulter out cold in an emergency. It bought a few moments so the victim could escape.

Grunting with satisfaction, but flinching with the pain that tore through my wrists, I watched Atkin plummet to the ground in a disgruntled, ungraceful fall. With my feet—my hands being literally tied up at that moment—I padded his waist carefully until I felt a dagger's scabbard. I then went down on my knees and with my bound hands, cupped the revealed dagger. To finish off, I gripped the hilt with my teeth and attempted to neatly cut into the middle of the rope, in between my wrists.

It took a few, long, scrutinisingly unsuccessful tries before I brought my battle to a halt when an oblique shadow fell on me. Cursing, I whirled around, expecting a fight.

But it was only Roald.

I let out a breath of obvious relief as the Prince took the dagger out of my mouth and held out my hands. He then professionally—unlike my sloppy tries—slashed at the binding, constricting rope…cutting it true.

As the rope fell to the ground soundlessly, I sighed again and relaxed, rubbing at my aching joints to get the blood flowing freely again. When the throbbing ebbed to a mild distraction, I gave Roald a quizzical glance.

'What do we do now?' I whispered, motioning towards the lying, unconscious body of Atkin.

'Go on with our plan,' Roald said emphatically. I envied his cool and professional stamina…the composed way he thought, reacted and behaved in such a  serious situation like this. I felt childish, an amateur really, standing here looking and feeling as useless and out of place as meat in a vegetarian meal.

Everything I did added to the mess—my mess.

I nodded numbly at the Prince and turned to Atkin. My weak punch to his head hadn't been too effective. The bastard was regaining consciousness, again…

Moving towards him again, I grabbed the dagger off Roald, sat on the noble's chest firmly, and held the sharp end of the weapon against his bare neck. As soon as his eyes showed the signs of fluttering open, I dug in the soles of my feet into ground, so he wouldn't throw me off balance.

I smiled sinisterly to greet him into the world of the Awake. 'Hello, Atkin,' I purred as he groggily opened his eyes and settled them on me. I pressed the blade a tad too hard into his skin, and he immediately tensed. 'Are you willing to co-operate, or will I have to kill you to gain a bit of respect?'