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"Tell me about the eighth kingdom."
Blood drips from her nose. And she is very tired. But not like last time. Last time, sleep solved the problem. This time she knows she doses off. In between the needles. But when she wakes up, the Captain is always there. Just staring. And waiting.
"I'm not scared of you," she says slowly as her head lolls back.
He graces her with the ghost of a smile. "I only use fear when it is effective child." Standing, he is not gentle at pressing the IV drip deeper into her skin. "I know I do not frighten you. But these drugs . . . they're very effective on your kind. I've had the chance to test them often. And I can deduce that at just the right dosage, your inhibitions . . ." He strokes her cheek, voice getting softer, vision getting darker. "Falling away. What fun we will have when you can't fight me."
"You wouldn't . . ."
"Aeryn. Tell me about the eighth kingdom."
"No," she whispers. "No I'll never tell you . . ."
Right before she passes out, his eyes do something weird. It almost looks like they come out of his head. But that would be impossible. "Then what happens now is on you."
There are many things Orm knew he'd feel when he saw Aeryn again. Pain being the foremost. Shock maybe.
It's been no easy task to track her down. It took weeks! And he has never been in land for so long. Their food is awful. Their clothes are itchy and irritable. Those disgsuting tube things they puff at make him cough. But her scent . . . after twenty years her scent is everywhere. It was just a question of narrowing it down.
And now finally, here he's standing outside a house in the middle of one of their fields. It's . . . somewhat painful to look at. Though he cannot tell why. The window panes are shattered, it seems as if the whole place is full of songs only half sung. Seaweed hangs from the tiles atop the roof. Is this where she is? Is this where she lives? She will certainly have to come back with him immediately.
Following her scent, he nudges the door. It gives way instantly at the same moment that there's a bang underneath his feet. From there on it's instinct. Ripping the floor from underneath him and the sight he sees is enough to make him sick.
The woman lying on the ground. Her under garments off and the man looking half surprised, who has them in his grubby hands. The trident draws of its own accord. Flies ten feet. Cleaves through flesh and bone and muscle still ripping, ripping. The man's eyes are still full of awe as he begins to pitch forward but Orm grabs him, tossing him away from her. He does not deserve to be near her. Not even in his death.
Whatever joy he feels at seeing Aeryn again is all overshadowed by what he has just seen. He touches her face, relieved to feel the warm rush of her breathing against her fingers.
"Aeryn," he whispers. "Aeryn . . ." How far did he get? What other things did he do to her? But there's no time for that now.
He taps his earpiece. "Vulko?"
"My King?"
"I've found Aeryn. I want you to call in my personal guard. This house must be razed. Every trace of it, gone by morning. See that it's done."
"Yes King Orm - but, are you bringing Aeryn back?"
"Your position is not to question me Vulko," Orm snaps. How is he going to explain why she's missing her under garments? She will not be impressed. He tears his coat from his shoulders, wrapping it around her legs. There, that's got to make him look better right? Lifting her into his arms, he jumps clear of the rubble and sets off towards the ocean.