[A/N]: ayyy just in time this month! In return, this chapter is a nice 4,5k words. I hope everyone enjoys it. Things are finally starting to move.
Title song, Run, belongs to Daughter.
"Modron!" Gwen yelled just as she pulled herself out of the water in front of her house. "Hongian ar!"
The tell-tale silence filled the air, together with the crackling of fire as it consumed everything in its path.
With her heart in her throat, the half-elf rushed to the front door, ignoring the flames that licked at her ankles. She pressed herself against the burning door, smashed her shoulder into it when it wouldn't budge. Her mother groaned, her fingers clawing at the door as they always did.
"Modron!" Gwen called out again, this time kicking at the door that kept her away from the person trapped inside. No matter how hard she tried, it was no use; the damned piece of wood would not move.
Rubble fell down on top of her then, and she raised her arms in an attempt to shield herself from it even as she continued to yell for her mother. The other woman no longer reacted, her fingers sliding down the surface of the door one last time with agonising loudness as her body most likely fell to the floor. That feeling of her world shattering, the rug being pulled out from beneath her feet, of something inside of her break, filled her. Gwen let out a shuddering breath, ignoring the constricted feeling of her lungs filled with smoke, and closed her eyes. Waiting for the roof above her to cave in, ready to welcome it.
The sound of the ceiling crumbling reached her ears and a blanket of dust fell down to cover her. Just then, however, arms wrapped around her, pulling her away and into something, someone, else.
Even in the midst of the fire she could recognise that green eye, his lips much softer in her dream than they had been in real life as they descended upon hers, overshadowing her surroundings. Suddenly, the crackling of fires died down, and the streets of Vengerberg disappeared, making way for a dark forest.
No longer half-choked by the grime in the air, Gwen sucked in a deep breath of air, which she needed desperately when she saw the glint in the elf's eye as he continued to claim her lips with a fierce, almost painful kiss. As she relaxed beneath his touch, forgetting the nightmare from mere moments ago, from the corner of her eye she noticed a red string connecting her wrist to his. In the heat of the moment, as his tongue ran along her lower lip, her mind did not register what she saw. Instead, for the first time in almost a century, she felt something other than horror and fear in her dreams.
That fated day came sooner than expected. But then again, Gwen had thrown herself into any and all tasks given to her with vigour. At the end of the day, after finishing what she had to do, she would crawl back into bed and fall asleep at once, too tired to stay awake and think. The next day the cycle would repeat.
Until this, with somebody shaking her by the shoulder and her almost hitting them in the face. Her eyes snapped open, only to be greeted by the same green that she had seen moments ago. Iorveth's expression darkened ever so slightly as he caught her wrist before her fist could connect with his cheek. Realising that it must have looked like she had been suffering from a violent nightmare, Gwen's cheeks flushed when she remembered that that hadn't only been the case. She tried to force her embarrassment to the side and wondered whether Aderyn had told him about how she had had to drag the half-elf out of her tree that day.
After getting sick and having hidden herself between the branches, she had remained there for almost an entire day before Aderyn had found her. The elf had joined her and forced her to drink a little water before coercing her out of her safe haven. Thankfully she had pretended that nothing was wrong, and had at once set her to work in the kitchen, sharing warning looks with the others who had watched in surprise.
She had buried her head in the sand, but now it seemed that Iorveth was here to dig her out again. The fact that it to be him of all people, and that she had avoided thinking about him and the stupid kiss, did not help the situation.
"We need to talk," he stated simply. He crossed his arms and stared down at her, motioning towards the exit of the tent with his head.
Nodding, her mind strangely blank all of a sudden, she pushed herself out of her bedroll and onto her feet. Before she followed him, she pulled on a pair of dark green breeches over the leggings she wore to bed and a brown leather vest over her tunic; the only armour they had had to spare for someone her size. Being a half-elf, she was of course also half-human, and therefore taller than many of the elves in the camp, something Gwen had only realised a short while ago.
Once she stood outside, she looked up at Iorveth, one of the few elves larger than her, and watched him investigate her. Most likely to judge her wellbeing as one of his unit members, or perhaps he hoped to find a way to discuss what had happened. Gwen decided that, since she had started kissing him that day, she should start talking this time as well. "I—"
"The team to La Valette Castle will be leaving soon," he said, his voice nonchalant though his gaze was pointed, a silent warning visible in his green eye. "I came to tell you that you'll be staying here, and that there will be a meeting for details about the Flotsam ambush just before that."
All the blood left her face, and Iorveth's brows dipped down, though any other signs that he noticed remained invisible. Her stomach felt like it twisted itself inside of her, and she wondered whether it was because he had decided to act like it had never happened, or because of the thought of Flotsam.
Iorveth continued to watch her with a blank face. Somewhere in the distance, the half-elf vaguely registered the sound of birds chirping and whistling. Every now and again, a woodpecker would peck into a tree. Gwen swallowed hard, though her mouth was dry, and when she didn't open her mouth, the unit leader turned to leave.
The half-elf's brain tried to comprehend the situation, rushing to think of what she should do or say. If he pretended like nothing had happened, then so could she. He was giving her a choice, the chance to forget it, to go on. For now, Flotsam was pushed to the back of her mind, and her hand shot out, fingers wrapping themselves around Iorveth's gloved wrist.
"W-wait," she whispered. Her voice croaked and she cleared her throat, tried to buy herself some time.
The elf had stopped his retreat and looked over his shoulder at her, twisting his neck around until his good eye could look at her while his torso still faced away from her. He raised an invisible brow, that dangerous look still in his eye. She could still let it drop, but the memory of his lips against hers from her dream haunted her even more than the flames usually did, and she couldn't think straight.
"About what happened, that kiss…" Her heart pounded in her ears and she swallowed again, willing the words she had wanted to say tumble out of her mouth.
His voice cut through her thoughts, cold and snide, and a chill ran through her body at not just the sound of it but also at what it said. "There is nothing to discuss. It was an accident, nothing more, and so we will act like nothing happened."
Gwen felt like he had just slapped her, and she stared at him as if he had. Her mouth hung open and a strange buzzing noise overwhelmed her ears, deafened her until she could hear nothing but the sound of her own breathing inside her head. When she noticed the derision in Iorveth's eye, fierce even for human standards, her jaw snapped shut with such force that she tasted blood.
"Did you honestly believe I might be interested in you as anything other than my subordinate, Gwenfrewi?"
"Gwenfrewi? That is such a beautiful name. Pray tell, what does it mean?"
"Frewi stands for and peace. My mother named me so because she believed I might unite our races."
"Do you truly believe that is possible? I have no doubt that the two of us will get along quite well, but I fear that the rest of my race is not as forgiving as I am."
"I… want to believe it is possible. Even if it is just to please my mother."
"Ah. Well, it is an admirable goal. You are rather sweet, as naïve as you are. Though there is a fine line between being naïve and being gullible."
Her hand fell to her side as she watched him leave, his armour clinking as he moved away from her without another word. She didn't realise her breathing had become ragged, her chest constricting painfully. As if some invisible hand were clenching her.
"Give him to me."
"N-no! What are you going to do?"
"Gwenfrewi, my dear, while your naivety was rather adorable in the beginning, it has become quite a nuisance. Now give him to me."
What had she been thinking? That the legendary Iorveth, hater of humans, might take an interest to her? A damned inh'eid such as herself? Her breasts fought against the unseen boundaries surrounding her, her lungs cramping when the air refused to fill them.
"Did you truly believe, for even a single moment, that I reciprocated these feelings you have for me? You have seen the worst that humanity has to offer your kind, yet still you trust me. That, my dear Gwenfrewi, is being gullible."
Her eyes were damp with tears, and she bit her lip even harder to keep them from spilling. She tightened her hands into fists, her knuckles turning white as she dug her nails into her palms, relishing the pain it brought to her.
Humans, elves. It doesn't matter who it is. They are only out to hurt you, to hunt you like the wild beast that you are. No, not a wild beast. There is something majestic about a creature of nature. You are nothing but a pitiful dog. And you are all alone in this world.
The voice that penetrated her mind made her muscles tighten even more. It had been a while since she had last heard of it. After the constant insults that Elric had flung her way, strangely endearing at first until they began to feel like daggers digging into her skin, her mind had taken on his attitude even when he was no longer around. Over the years of isolation, the voice had slowly dwindled, taking over and becoming one with herself, but the sound of it, angry and bitter, reminded her of how she had been only a while ago. She had changed so much over such a short period of time, it seemed, but for some reason destiny wanted to make it as difficult for her as possible.
Right now, she felt as though she had just taken a leap of faith, but the distance between herself and the ground had not been what she had expected, and instead it had rushed up to greet her far too soon. Except she did not know why she had jumped in the first place. Sure, the attraction had been there, or so she had believed, but how could she had ever thought that these feelings were mutual?
When the noise from the world outside finally began to seep through the barrier that had blocked her ears, her body relaxed as though some spell had been broken, her chest heaving as she sucked in a few deep breaths. The memories from what felt like some past life began to fade, and she spat out what little blood had gathered in her mouth before she turned and made her way to the edge of the camp, passing many tents on her way there. Wherever she went, stifling silence greeted her, and as the doubt began to nag at her mind, she wished that she would run into someone, anyone. Where had all the bloody elves that occupied the camp gone off to all of a sudden?! If she did not scream or yell at someone soon, she feared she might explode from all these conflicting emotions raging inside of her.
When she found a dark spot behind a row of bushes, she gazed at the scars on her arm while resting her back against the rough bark of a tree trunk. She knew she had promised him that she wouldn't do it again, but in that moment, she couldn't have cared less about him. Why did she immediately have to think of him to begin with?
You are nothing.
Taking in a deep breath through her nose, she pulled out her knife and trailed the cold material across her skin. Her brows creased and she sank to the ground, the bark scratching her back, though that only seemed to heighten her senses. When her bottom hit the ground, she closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing, listened to her heart beating rapidly as if in anticipation.
Without your mother you are even less.
She rolled up her right pant leg, pulling it over her knee and trailing her fingers along the angry lines that indicated where the trap had bit into her flesh, the skin still sensitive. In her other hand she held the knife steady, tried to figure out how she wanted to place the first cut. Just as she had decided to follow the pattern of the trap's teeth, she heard footsteps approach before the surrounding bushes began to rustle.
Like a deer in the face of a hunter's lamp, she froze to the spot and watched as an elf appeared.
"Iorveth told me to…" Ivor's voice trailed off as he, too, stopped and stared at her sitting form, knife placed against her leg. A certain feeling of déjà vu washed over the half-elf as she sat there. "What are you doing?"
Ire rose inside of Gwen. What did he think she was doing? Still, the anger disappeared as soon as it filled her, replaced by despair as she dug the knife into the soil beside her and scrambled to her feet.
"D-don't tell Iorveth!" she exclaimed, closing the distance between the two and grabbing his arm as if to emphasise her point.
Ivor raised a brow, his gaze flickering to her trembling hand before it sought her eyes again. He remained silent for a few moments, but Gwen could almost see the cogs turning in his head. She continued to stare at him with wide eyes and nostrils flaring until he seemed to have come to a conclusion. Slowly he nodded his head. "But only if you promise that this won't happen again."
"I promise," Gwen replied at once. Perhaps a bit too hasty. In an attempt to change the subject, she went on. "What did…" She bit her lip as the sound of Iorveth's voice snapping at her filled her head again. "What did he want?"
Now his other brow joined the first in his hairline before he narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. "Did something happen between the two of you?"
The half-elf clenched her hands into fists again, palms still sore from the last time, and she averted her eyes to the ground. She shuffled her bare feet through the grass, noting that there were barely any leaves covering the earth anymore. The branches creaked as they swayed in the wind, filling the stifling silence that hung in the air.
Only when Ivor sighed did Gwen lift her gaze, examining his face for any signs of what he might be thinking. Not that she found any, though.
"Whatever it is that you said to him, or he to you, you must realise that, at the moment, a lot is resting on his shoulders. He has to help the vatt'ghern in order to further his cause, but at the same time he has to keep his followers happy, for without them he is nowhere," he pointed out. "Then there is also the fact that there are certain rumours about the two of you…"
Her train of thoughts came to a halt with those words, and the blood drained from her face. "W-what do you mean? What rumours?"
"Rumours of the two of you getting close." Ivor gave her a pointed look when the half-elf opened her mouth to protest. "It does not matter whether they are true or not. What matters is that Iorveth is both under constant scrutinisation and pressure from the other seidhe. It does not help that the man himself is so very complex due to the many hardships he has suffered in the past."
Gwen furrowed her brows, her eyes flickering towards her feet again. Guilt filled her, and she realised that, though she had wondered about his scar, she had never considered the possibility of Iorveth having suffered just as much as any other elf had. Had never entertained the thought. Anger flared inside of her as well, and she scolded herself for being so selfish, wanting to push her feelings onto him without thinking of his own. Still, the seed of doubt remained behind even in the raging whirlwind of emotions within her.
"How… how do you know this?" she asked, glancing at Ivor.
He watched her, his grey eyes roaming her face, probably letting the expressive nature of her feelings sink in. She had gotten used to the strange looks the elves shot her way whenever she didn't force her expression into one of blankness, just as she had stopped being taken aback by their natural emptiness.
After a few moments, the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a smile. "Let us say that I have known the commander in a different way than most."
"Y-you what?!" Gwen exclaimed, placing her aching hands on her hips. The thought of the two elves lying in bed together made the blood rush to her face. "What do—"
"I came here," Ivor interrupted, "to tell you that I will be leaving for the La Valette castle, so I won't be around for a few weeks."
"Oh." The half-elf noted the disappointment that settled in the pit of her stomach. Before she could realise the meaning behind it, she squinted at her comrade. "But you said Iorveth told you to come."
"Yes, he wanted me to guide you to the meeting to discuss the Flotsam ambush. He seemed to believe you had reason to hide." Ivor shot her another pointed look.
Perplexed, Gwen mulled over his words. That damned commander could read her like an open book it seemed. So while she had felt that split second of guilt for breaking her promise, he had already considered that she would do so in the first place and had already taken measures. She felt irritated at how he thought so little of her, despite the fact that he had been right do so in the first place.
Ivor didn't wait for her to gather her thoughts, instead reaching down and pulling her knife out of the soil. Without a word he handed it to her before he turned and left, much as Iorveth had done a while ago. How long had she been sitting there, staring at the remains of the wound of her leg, to begin with?
Her fingers grasped the hilt of the weapon, and she let out a breath before tucking it away again. Then she followed Ivor before any other elves came to find her.
She fell into step beside him and they made their way to the centre of the camp in silence. A darkness settled in the forest, and torches guided them as they once more passed abandoned tents while Gwen tried to keep her distance from every flame she spotted. When she looked up, she could see the gathering clouds behind the leaves. It was going to start raining soon.
Before long, the silence fell away and was replaced by the murmuring of elves. The last time she had heard that sound, Iorveth had revealed the vatt'ghern to them. That day had also been the first in which she had fallen back on her self-mutilating habit, though he had found her. And then that nightmare… She shook her head and ignored the strange look Ivor gave her as they entered the clearing where Iorveth held his meetings.
"…ready to go," Iorveth's voice drifted through the air. "They will use boats to reach their destination, so they will be leaving for the river soon."
Moss green suddenly cut her way and left her just as quickly. Everything inside of Gwen knotted itself, breathing became difficult. Her feet refused to cooperate all of a sudden and she stopped mid-step, but Ivor caught her wrist before she could flee. She dug the heels of her feet into the ground, but he dragged her with him anyway.
"In order to ensure their safe departure, the designated soldiers will attack Flotsam to make sure all eyes are where the La Valette unit is not."
If Iorveth thought sending her off was what she needed or what she was capable of, then he did not know her as well as both of them thought he did. Gwen's breath caught in her throat, and she swallowed hard in a feeble attempt to get rid of the lump in her throat. Where everything within her had already been twisted, the knots now tightened and she could taste bile at the back of her mouth. That humming from before assaulted her ears again, but she closed her eyes and concentrated on Ivor's hand and Iorveth's voice, using them to keep herself grounded. She could not run with her tail between her legs whenever she was reminded of the past. She most certainly could not show others this pathetic side of her.
With steady breathing, the half-elf managed to regain her bearings, slowly but surely. The buzzing receded and her stomach relaxed, and when she opened her eyes she saw that nobody had been paying her any attention. She let out a sigh and tried to listen to the rest of what Iorveth had to say, but apparently she had missed it all.
Panic of a different kind threatened to fill her when Ivor released her arm and, with a wave and an encouraging smile, followed a group of six other elves, plus the vatt'ghern. Gwen stood in the middle of the commotion, looking to and fro for any other familiar faces.
"Oi," a voice that she knew came from behind her, and a hand fell onto her shoulder. She froze again. "What are you doing, standing around like that? You're coming with me."
When she turned her head to the side, she saw Ciaran standing there. Her face easily fell into the scowl she always reserved just for him, and he returned it. "Why Iorveth wants you on this mission is beyond me, but he must have his reasons, so I will have to trust him."
"Same here, I suppose," Gwen muttered, and Ciaran's brows rose.
He didn't respond as he released her shoulder. Only then did she notice the group of elves that stood behind him, waiting for him. Those elves, plus herself, he led to the training area of the camp. Her companions did not seem to recognise her presence other than a quick look in her direction every now and then. Gwen noted that even for elves, they all looked rather young. She easily could have been the oldest in the group, even with her limited inh'eid years.
With his arms crossed over his broad chest, Owain greeted them with a nod when they arrived at the training space. Ciaran returned the gesture and turned to his subordinates. He spread his arms, palms facing them.
"As some of you may have noticed, Iorveth has given me the command over you, the inexperienced soldiers." Gwen almost scoffed; she was most likely just as experienced, if not more, than many of the regular Scoia'tael. Ciaran either did not notice or ignored the look on her face. "Because you are still officially in training, you have yet to receive any weapons fit for actual combat. Just for this mission, however, you will be granted access to a sword and bow. See it as an important lesson, if you will."
Her heart quickened its pace when she realised this might be her chance to flee. She would have a certain amount of freedom in Flotsam, or at least enough opportunities to 'lose' her companions. While the town was in disarray from the ambush, she could find a boat, of which there were most likely plenty, and sail off.
But where would she go? She could not go back to Aedirn, and she would rather avoid Temeria after this. Plus, for that she would have to follow the river and the elves going towards the castle. Her only options would be Redania and Kaedwen…
Unbidden, Cedric's works came to mind. You must return to him. He has grown reckless since I last saw him, and you must make sure no harm befalls him until he has fulfilled his destiny. Even though the man himself was making it rather difficult for her.
Her shoulders slumped and she realised that she had admitted defeat. No matter how stupid it might seem, she could not deny her mother's last wish. She had never even truly heard her mother's last wish to begin with, and that thought she tried to quell with this compromise of sorts.
Once again, she had missed the rest of her leader's explanation, but everything became evident when Owain handed her a sheathed sword, his face empty of all expression. She accepted it and fastened it about her waist before taking a hold of the bow he held out for her. This time, when she relieved the man of his burden, his green eyes seemed to twinkle with both amusement and a warning. Gwen feared that he had managed to follow her entire thought process, though surely her face could not be that expressive?
"Bring them back to me in one piece," he said, his piercing eyes watching her. Only when she nodded did he let go of the bow, which she then slung over her shoulder, together with a quiver of arrows.
Without looking back, she followed Ciaran and the other elves away from the training ring, trying her very best not to think of the imminent future. She knew that she would come back a changed person, for better or worse.