The Chimera
I don't currently have a Beta, so if you catch any mistakes please let me know, I'll fix it. I apologize in advance.
Note: Implied non-con ahead…tread lightly now.
Two: The Trade
In the morning, Edward refuses to allow Emmett shut Jasper back in his cage.
"Allow him some dignity," Edward says, irked by Emmett's insistence.
Emmett glares back at him from his horse. "Brutes like it don't have dignity."
"Let him walk," Edward barks back at his bannermen. They spare each other a dark look before begrudgingly fastening Jasper's chains onto their saddles. The other end of the chains is wrapped around the berserker's wrists.
"Move," a bannerman snarls and strikes Jasper in the back of the head with the sharp end of his scabbard.
"It could pull the horses to their knees. It could rip us apart." the men mumble among themselves.
"He can't if he's not in bloodlust," Edward snaps back at them. "So don't agitate him."
Another bannerman has raised his sheathed sword, ready to hit Jasper again, but at Edward's words he thinks better of it.
Edward meets the berserker's eyes. Those brown eyes search his for a second, then Jasper looks away, pink in the cheeks. Edward turns back around in his saddle, and spurs his horse forward.
They broke camp several hours ago at dawn, and made ready to track Caius and his troops through the winding valleys. Emmett sent his scouts ahead to survey the land. The woods can be treacherous and the trails can be dangerous, even in the light of the morning sun.
Edward has planned to go only as far as the next bend of the river. He doesn't imagine Caius would be waiting for them anyplace nearby. The trespasser had hours on them and if he is half the coward Edward thinks he is, he would have entered the mountain paths already, scampering back to Volturia.
For the first time since Edward arrived at the borderlands, he is wrong.
As the sun crossed through the clouds and the shadows of the towering green wood grew longer and longer, the scouts return. They report seeing a lone riding heading their way – wearing the red crest of Caius, and waving a white flag. Emmett and Edward ride ahead to meet with him. They stop at a clearing upon a small bald hill in the middle of the forest.
The messenger leaps off his horse as he approaches, and sinks onto one knee.
"His Excellency, Caius of Volturia, wishes to call a truce," the messenger announces.
Emmett snorts and looks at Edward. Caius is not known to call for truces. Caius is known for razing towns, burning farms, and sending his troops where they don't belong. Aro, the head of the Volturi triumvirate, is who usually comes pleading for a peaceful solution when Caius is depleted of men and food and nearly beat. Aro comes bearing gifts and a fake smile, promising cease-fires and treaties. He is the one who discusses diplomacy in the great halls of King Carlisle's palace, where his empty words and false gestures fool no one. He is the one who takes advantage of the King's seemingly endless patience, and pretends to lament over his apparent inability to exercise control over Caius.
"A truce on what terms?" Emmett demands.
The messenger dips his head into a bow. "His Excellency seeks the return of his berserker."
Emmett looks at Edward, one eyebrow raised. What do we do, his eyes asks. Edward thinks for a minute. "Go back and tell him I am willing to discuss his conditions. My men will camp here today, until he is ready."
The messenger bows lower to the ground. "His Excellency wishes to receive Your Grace in his camp at sundown for a pleasant discussion over wine and food, and His Excellency requests for Your Grace to bring along his berserker."
"I'd rather see your master on the battlefield than over dinner," Emmett growls.
Edward gives him a sideways glance that silences him. "Tell Caius that this bloodshed has gone on for too long, he must leave our lands unless he seeks death."
"His Excellency is withdrawing his battalions back to Volturia," the messenger replies, "but he cannot bear to depart without his berserker."
Edward squares his shoulders. "I will deliver his berserker tonight after sundown to hasten his return."
The messenger rattles off his thanks, hops back on his horse, and rides away.
Emmett turns to stare at Edward. "We cannot accept his truce. Caius has to pay for the damage he has done, the lands his men have torched, the women they have raped, and the lives they claimed."
"He will," Edward assures him, turning to descend from the hill.
"How?" Emmett calls after him.
Edward does not answer. "Make camp!" he tells his men. His eyes find the tangled blonde waves in the midst of bright metal and polished helmets. He has a plan.
Emmett catches up and seizes Edward's shoulder. "We need to kill him," he says brusquely.
"We can't," Edward replies simply.
"We will ride back to the capital with his head on a spear."
"We won't."
Emmett falls silent and glowers at him, eyes spitting fire.
Edward lets out a frustrated huff. "Killing Caius will incite a war. We don't have enough men or gold or allies to fund a war, especially not against the Volturi, who, along with berserkers, command trolls and giants. Our men will be decimated."
"So you'll just hand him his pet beast and let him go on his merry way?" Emmett says heatedly.
"No," Edward replies calmly. "We will teach him a lesson."
Emmett's stormy eyes lighten as he perks up, intrigued.
Careful preparations are to be made.
While Emmett organizes the men, Edward returns to his tent. He has his own plans to set in motion.
Although the berserker unnerves him, Edward feels an obligation to do right by the man. It is a task made difficult by their positions, as Jasper makes no efforts to hide his distrust of the Princeling. He has every reason to be suspicious of Edward. He is a prisoner taken in battle, and by all rights he should be dead or worse. Edward only spared his life to gain an advantage over his enemy. It wasn't out of the kindness of his heart. It was strategy. To Edward, the berserker is a pawn in a game of kings. Yet, when Jasper is brought before him, Edward feels an unexpected pang of guilt.
Jasper's dark eyes are alert, watching silently as Edward turns his back to discard his riding cloak in favor of his royal blue robe – one more fitting for a dinner with a tyrant.
"Your master sent us a message," Edward begins. At the sound of silence, he turns to survey Jasper.
The berserker's gaze flicker meaningfully between Edward's two bannermen. They are standing with their hands tight around the hilt of their swords and their narrowed eyes flashing at the berserker. They look ready to draw blood at Jasper's slightest movement.
Edward only hesitates for a moment before dismissing them.
He motions Jasper towards a chair as the tent flap closes. "Do you know what your master wanted?" Edward starts again.
Jasper takes his seat awkwardly, looking uncomfortable. "No."
Edward eases himself onto the corner of the table and sits with one foot on the floor while the other dangles very close to Jasper. He doesn't miss the way the berserker's hands twitched when his leg swings too close.
After a moment of pregnant silence, Edward speaks up. "What did you do for Caius?"
Berserkers are made to be expendable, with a lifespan as long as battles and as short as minutes. The Volturi commanders are not known to get attached. Caius's reported closeness with Jasper is an anomaly.
"I did what a berserker does." Jasper's eyelashes sweep over his cheeks, hiding his intelligent eyes. Edward catches himself thinking that those are surely not the eyes of a beast, and feels an inexplicable urge to smile.
"But he values you?" Edward presses. "My brother tells me you never left his side in battle."
Jasper doesn't answer. His long pale fingers thread together as he fidgets with them.
"Caius had other berserkers, I heard," Edward says easily.
Jasper responds with a small nod. His shoulders drop a little. Although he is still reluctant with his answers and unforthcoming with his words, he appears to be more comfortable in the prince's presence. To Edward, that is a good sign.
"He didn't seem to care much for the others." Edward continues. He raises one hand over a goblet on the table and lazily draws the tips of his fingers along the edge of it.
"They died. Drowned." Jasper looks up and catches Edward staring. He sees something in Edward's face that makes his dark eyes go even darker.
"Yes, when they crossed the border. I heard." Edward picks up the goblet and twirls the ornate stem between his fingers. "Iced wine," he explains, holding Jasper's gaze, "from the northern reaches. It's a favorite of mine." Edward holds the goblet to his lips and watches Jasper's avid eyes trail down his neck as he swallows. Jasper has an unreadable look on his face. "Would you like to try?" Edward offers genially.
Jasper takes the goblet from his hand, fingers brushing Edward's slightly. He presses the rim to his dry lips and drinks, hands shaking.
Edward lets out a small breath he didn't know he was holding. "You will be coming with me tonight," he tells Jasper finally.
Jasper looks up sharply. "Where?"
Edward schools his face into a nonchalant mask. "I am returning you to your master for a promise of truce."
The thing that flickers through Jasper's eyes isn't joy or even relief. To Edward's surprise, fear shines through those chestnut orbs, followed by panic.
Jasper stands abruptly, staggers, and falls. Edward tries to catch him, but Jasper is too heavy and he hits the ground with a loud thud, taking the chair with him.
"Edward?" Emmett bursts into the tent at the sound, along with a trio of guards brandishing long spears. He calls them off at the sight of Jasper's slumped body. The guards move to drag him from the tent.
"Careful," Edward says as Jasper's elbow hits the leg of the table.
Emmett slings one thick arm across Edward's shoulders, eyeing the unconscious berserker doubtfully. "I still think it's too dangerous. I should go with you."
"No," Edward says firmly, "stay behind and make sure all the pieces are laid as planned."
Emmett huffs. "You won that scuffle with him last night out of pure luck. He was already fatigued and near collapse. Next time he will be stronger and faster. A berserker can rampage for days on end, and your little talismans can only provide a minute of precious strength."
Edward doesn't want to be reminded of that, but at least Emmett isn't referring to Jasper as it anymore. "He won't be rampaging anywhere anytime soon," Edward replies dismissively. "He can't go into bloodlust if he can't be woken up."
Emmett doesn't look reassured.
It may have been that lingering look of concern Emmett had, or it could have been his warning, all Edward knows is that when the time came for him to make his way towards Caius's camp, he feels less confident that he ought to.
Part of that queasy feeling isn't anxiousness or apprehension. Part of it has to do with the berserker's uncertain fate and the unsettling flash of fear that coursed through his face.
Edward watches as the Volturi soldiers take Jasper, who is unconscious in his cage atop a horse-drawn cart.
His wariness of Jasper stems from the berserker's loyalty to Caius, and the possibility that he may have been planted like the Trojan Horse to be unleashed when least expected. But there is a raw honestly in Jasper's eyes and a tortured moroseness in his manner that prompts Edward to think otherwise. Jasper isn't wily enough to be a spy, nor fastidious enough to be assassin. His demeanour is more like that of a misused servant, trapped in service to a callous master.
Edward briefly considered the notion of keeping Jasper prisoner, but he has many good reasons to make the trade and no good reasons to bring a berserker back to the capital. Edward's practical mind always overrules his emotional inclinations, regardless of how strongly he feels he might regret his decision deep in his heart.
The Volturi set up camp at the bank of the winding river. Upon entry, Edward rides past countless limping men and amputees with sorrowful eyes, bleeding from stumps. His men have definitely taken more causalities, on account of the Chimera, yet his camp doesn't look half as pitiful as this. Which begs the question: where have the fit men gone?
Edward is fairly certain that he knows the answer.
From the edge of the camp, where Caius's massive commander's tent is situated, Edward can almost see the tip of the bald hill where his own men are resting, and where Emmett is now. The mere sight of it soothes him a little.
"Your Grace," a servant lifts the flap of the tent and waves Edward inside.
Edward squares his shoulder and takes a deep breath.
The Volturi commander's quarters is starkly different from Edward's simple tent. The walls are draped with tapestries and soft billowing curtains. The floor is laid with clean wooden planks and covered in thick rugs. The smell of perfumes and incense keep the stink of the camp at bay. Behind a low-lying table laid with wines and plates, Caius is lounging on silken pillows. He has white blond hair falling to his waist, a thin face, and an insincere smile. He is donned in gold-stitched robes and weighed down with precious stones at his neck and wrists. He looks like he should be sitting in a garden pavilion somewhere lavish, not in the aftermath of a grim battle where good men died for his greed. Edward is usually a good judge of people, and his first impression of Caius makes him want to turn right around and walk away.
But that is not an option.
"Well met, Your Grace," Caius drawls as he approaches, "I've long wished to look upon Edward the Conqueror, Edward the Great Defender, Edward the Good." Caius clasps his hands in a hearty handshake that is held for too long.
Edward withdraws himself gingerly from the other man's grasp. "The feeling is mutual, I assure you."
Caius guides him to a set of pillows. Edward takes a seat, his bannermen stay outside, at the door of the tent, ever watchful. Loud gaudy music strikes up and the food is brought out on small ornate tables. Caius laughs and reclines, reaching for a plate of steaming plums, stuffed with rice and meats. Edward doesn't touch anything – can't put it past the Volturi to poison a dinner guest.
"I am sad to see Prince Emmett won't be joining us," Caius says, dipping his fingers in sauce and sucking them.
Edward forces his face into a tight smile. "He was adamant about remaining at camp with the men."
"That's unfortunate," Caius says cheerily, tearing into a leg of lamb.
Edward waves away a plate of spiced cheese balls. "I brought back your berserker, but had to put him to sleep, of course. Otherwise, if he went into bloodlust along the way we would have to return him in a lesser condition."
Caius wipes his mouth on the sleeve of a servant girl. "Yes, the Dreaming Draught, very clever." He waves his hand, and the girl retreats into the curtains behind him. Caius regards Edward with mocking eyes as she re-emerges, with one end of a thick iron chain in her hands. "I just happened to have the anecdote in my possession," he says smoothly.
Edward didn't count on that.
He watches the chain emerges inch by inch out from behind the curtains. He had an inkling that Caius may try to use Jasper against him upon meeting. Emmett has lent Edward a sizeable party to ensure his safety, but against a raging berserker they offer a threadbare protection. And, to take things from bad to worse, the entirety of this party is outside the tent at the moment.
Edward had felt guilty for deceiving Jasper. He tampered with the wine and pretended to sip to trick Jasper into drinking it. He told himself he had to do it for his own protection. Berserkers are volatile and often incapable of distinguishing between friend and foe, thus whatever connection Jasper shared with him in their short time together cannot be counted on to prevent the possibility of a gruesome death. Edward did it because he couldn't risk it. And now, it seems, it was all for naught.
He palms the talismans in his robe pocket, brought as a precaution. He only has two of them. He grits his teeth as he remembers Emmett's warning – a minute each. He has to use them wisely.
Edward has half-risen from his seat, bracing himself for the bloody eventuality that he knows will ensue, but stops when he catches a glimpse of the man who emerges from behind the curtain.
Jasper has a collar around his neck again, from which the thick chain hangs. His hair is washed and combed. What Edward thought was a dirty blonde turns out to be closer to honey in hue. The layers of soft waves are streaked with burnt ochre among the dashes of brilliant gold. The tips of his tresses curl and brush the top of his bared shoulders. Someone took care to bathe him properly, scrubbed him down so meticulously that his usually pale skin is flushed pink at the effort. Without the mud under his skin, his scars are less visible. He is dressed in a thin red robe that is enticingly wide at the collar and currently slipping off his shoulders.
Edward is suddenly reminded of his dream. He sits back down and folds his napkin over his lap, overwhelmed by a feeling that is definitely not fear and totally inappropriate.
Jasper is staring at the ground, face flushed, and refusing to meet anyone's eye. Even when he is forced onto his knees by the jerking of the chain, and Caius seizes his chin between his fingers, Jasper still averts his gaze. Edward idly wonders how sadistic and deranged Caius must be to dress his berserker in the clothes of a consort. Edward has trampled through enough whorehouses looking for Emmett that he knows a bed slave when he sees one. Jasper's scarlet robe is embroidered and soft, clinging to Jasper in a way that is hardly proper. It is fitted to him, meaning that Caius had extravagant, showy fabrics picked out and sewn for his berserker, which Edward does not understand.
Caius forces Jasper's face upwards and turns it towards Edward. "Thank the Prince for returning you to me." There is a steely tone hidden in his soft cooing voice that Edward doesn't miss.
Jasper mutters something incomprehensible under his breath.
Caius looks to Edward, eyes suddenly hard. "You should have killed him," he says coldly.
Edward doesn't answer, still stunned by Jasper's appearance.
He watches as Caius's free hand slide over the silks and settle on Jasper's thigh. Jasper stiffens at the touch, his shoulders too straight and his pose too rigid. The tendons in the back of Caius's hand shift as he squeezes, fingers digging into the inside of Jasper's groin. It isn't an affectionate gesture. It is an expression of dominance and possession. And it turns Edward's stomach.
"He was a lancer," Caius says, tipping his head at his guest, "one of my best, before he became the thing he is today. He rode a horse like he was born atop it, and could jab a spear through your heart and out the back with one thrust." Caius's touches, gliding over Jasper's body, are too intimate, too familiar, and altogether unseemly..
"He was deft with spears and lances off the battlefield as well, and a better rider too," Caius says with laughing eyes and a secretive smirk. Edward feels like he missed the joke.
Caius continues, "Of course most of the time he was too drunk off the wine, and twitching from the lust magic, to remember anything, but we all have to do our duty, for the good of the kingdom." His hand slides further up Jasper's thigh. He reaches down between the berserker's legs and squeezes. Jasper almost managed to hide his wince.
Lust magic is a vile thing, known to drive maidens into wanton madness. It was commonly used in brothels, before it was banned by King Carlisle. To use such magic on the unwilling is unheard of, and for a commander to cast it upon soldiers under his command is nothing short of evil. Edward feels his blood boiling and his anger surging. "For the good of the kingdom," Edward echoes harshly.
"Are you interested, Your Grace?" Caius asks suddenly.
Edward raises a flute of wine shakily to his lips, grasping at the ends of his civility and forgetting that he isn't supposed to drink anything. "What do you mean?"
Caius ruffles Jasper's hair while the berserker's gaze continues to bore into the floor. "I've heard many interesting tales about Edward the Pure. A pretty girl in my fortress lived in King Carlisle's palace for a summer until he sent her back. She was a gift from Aro, but she tells me the King only has eyes for his Queen."
"Yes, that is true." Edward cannot tear his eyes from Jasper's downturned face, willing him to look up, to show Edward what is passing through his head with his candid eyes.
"She also told me in the centre of the palace, there is a garden where all the maidens who hope to find favor with the Crown sit, like flowers amongst flowers," Caius pauses. "Prince Emmett visits the garden often."
Edward's lips curl up into a forced smile. "He hardly ever leaves."
"But the girl tells me she's never seen you."
Edward finally tears his eyes away from Jasper. He meets Caius's flashing eyes.
"She wondered if there is another garden like that, but full of handsome boys with wicked smiles instead of silly girls in plaits and fancy dresses."
Edward scowls, offended. "There is no such garden," he says, then adds, "and there would be no use for one."
Caius shrugs. "These are the kinds of tales I hear about Prince Edward the Strange."
"Tall tales, I'm afraid," Edward replies tersely.
Edward feels Jasper's gaze flicker over to him at that, but when he turns to look, Jasper is staring at the rug again. His pale fingers are curled into fists on his lap.
"I never dismiss tall tales," Caius says, "I have seen enough impossible things that I believe anything could be true. Am I right?" When Caius reaches upwards, Jasper flinches at the movement. But Caius only tugs lightly on a strand of his rippling hair, before dropping his hand onto Jasper's shoulder.
"Speaking of strange things," Edward says slowly, "if Jasper was a prized lancer, why was he chosen to become the Chimera?"
"Most of the other died during the transformation," Caius replies simply, "Jasper was chosen because he was strong."
Edward feels the muscles in his face twitch in response. He is having difficulty retaining his composure. "That's a cruel way to repay a man for his loyalty."
Caius grins, unperturbed. "We all need to make sacrifices, for the good of the kingdom."
Edward watches Jasper's clasped hands tremble. "Although it seems unfair that some sacrifice so little, while others sacrifice too much."
"It comes down to how much one is willing to give. I, for one, am willing to sacrifice it all." Caius's tone is dangerous.
He moves suddenly, prompting Edward to recoil backwards on reflex. Caius snatches the back of Jasper's robe and tears it off his body, tossing it to the side. He jerks the chain and Jasper stands, naked and towering over Edward.
His lean muscles make hard lines under his skin, and his jagged scars trail from his neck down to his strong calves, running in every which direction. His hands are balled into fists at his side; the smooth curves of his supple thighs meet at a place that Edward tries not to stare at. But the bend of Jasper's hardened manhood is enticing, and it takes all of Edward's self-control to force himself to look up at Jasper's pale, expressionless face instead.
Jasper meets his eyes, looking conflicted.
Behind him, Caius stands. He raises his arms and CRACK. The whip soars through the perfumed air before carving a thick red line in the middle of Jasper's back. The force of it drives the air from his lungs, and he gasps. CRACK. CRACK. CRACK. Jasper falls to his knees.
Slowly, he begins to twitch.
The whip, Edward remembers belatedly. Oh, the whip.
Jasper grows. His muscles bulge and his pale skin stretches. The whites of his eyes turn black, fangs protrude from his mouth, and black claws sprout from his hands. His breath becomes ragged and hoarse. In the span of a heartbeat, he doubles in size and girth, and his member is swollen and pressed against his belly. Edward thinks this is a terrible time to be taken by the berserker's eerie beauty. Beautiful, but deadly, he reminds himself, positively fatal, in fact.
Edward's fingers close around his talismans, trying to remember how far he is from the door of the tent, not daring to spare a glance back over his shoulder. As Jasper's growl fill the tent, Edward can hear shouting outside. He wonders if Emmett's men are fighting to get to his side or scattering in the opposite direction, fleeing for their lives.
"Kill him," Caius commands gleefully.
Jasper rears. He smashes the low table before him and takes a jerking step towards Edward, who shrinks back. Edward searches Jasper's inky eyes for a cue, waiting for the first strike.
Suddenly, Jasper turns his back.
He lunges at the servants who are gripping the end of his chain. Caius's piercing scream cuts through the tent, accompanied by the sound of bones snapping. Edward shuffles backwards until his shoulder blades hits the tapestry hanging along the walls, wishing he couldn't see the carnage before him or witness Jasper's brutality. Edward squeezes his eyes shut in horror. When he opens them again a second later, there's the servant girl on the ground before him, lying prone in a pool of crimson. Her gaze is fixed upon him but unseeing. A chunk of her neck missing.
Jasper spins around. His mouth is dripping with fresh blood. He slashes wildly at the dumbfounded Caius. The back of his bear-sized hand slams into the Volturi's chest, throwing him against a decorative column. The whole tent shakes. Caius falls onto his side, unmoving.
Edward is almost too scared to breathe.
Jasper roars. The guttural sound is deep, resonating through the ground. His black eyes find Edward. He lunges.
Edward bites the talismans in a panic and crosses his hands over his face.
Jasper collides into him, pinning him onto the floor.
Edward grits his teeth, charm-strengthened arms straining under the berserker's weight. Jasper raises an arm that is as thick as a tree trunk. Edward braces himself and hopes that Emmett is sticking to the plan. Even if he doesn't make it out of here alive, at least Emmett will win this war.
Jasper swings his arm downwards, knocking the jug of wine off the table next to Edward, and splashing them both. Edward kicks at him, his heels connecting with muscles as hard as stone.
"Jasper," Edward gasps. "Stop!"
Blinking madly as droplets of wine runs down his face and drips off his eyelashes, Edward digs his elbows to Jasper's chest, feeling as if the berserker's heated skin is about to set him on fire. "Get a hold on yourself, Jasper! Look at me. I know you. You are not a monster. Jasper! Jasper?" Edward pushes against him, feeling him shake, feeling his heart thump a hundred beats a minute, feeling him fighting against his bloodlust, against himself.
Jasper starts to shrink.
Edward feels the talisman's power dissipate, and his arm buckle under the berserker's weight. Jasper falls on top of him, corners of his eyes turning white again before rolling into the back of his head. "Jasper. Jasper." Edward holds the other man's contorted face, pressing his palms against the muscled jaws, brushing his thumb against high cheekbones, and smoothing back the wild, blood-matted hair. Jasper twitches as his muscles melt away. "I'm sorry I tricked you," Edward says, "But I had to." Jasper thrashes, as if invisible ropes are pulling at him. "Hush." Edward loops his arms around his neck and holds him, cradling. "Hush, Jasper, hush." It's the same thing he does to calm his little sister, Alice, when she cries. Edward rocks him lightly, cooing all the while.
"I can't know that you won't kill me, but I trust that you don't want to," Edward says breathily. "I know that. I know you. Hush…shhhh…hush." Out of habit, Edward leans down, as he does when he holds Alice, and presses a lingering kiss on Jasper's temple. Jasper stops shaking. Edward kisses him again, soft lips against his hot skin. When Edward pulls away, Jasper is looking up at him, eyes wide, brown irises dilated in pain.
Edward presses his hand into the centre of Jasper's bare chest and whispers a familiar incantation. It's a little bit of healing magic, the King's sorcerers casts it on the sickly, before they're cut open. Jasper's ragged breathing slows, and the tension disappears from his spasming muscles. Edward catches Jasper looking down at himself, wedged between the Prince's knees. "Does it still hurt?" Edward asks softly.
Jasper shakes his head slightly.
The muted shouts outside grows louder into clamouring. There's the sound of hooves and men running. The tent flap is suddenly thrown wide. "Edward!" Emmett bellows.
Jasper jerks up before Edward can stop him, startled. He takes two staggering steps, and falls again, into a heap of bloodied silk pillows.
"I'm here," Edward replies, sitting up shakily. Relief floods through him at the sight of his brother. "I'm fine."
Emmett's men rush in and make a beeline for the slumped figure of Caius.
Emmett, for the second time in two days, hauls Edward to his feet, and laughs. "Worked like a charm, just like you said it would," he tells Edward, beaming. "We strung up the torches and sprinkled the camp with fire powder. Caius's men came sneaking in like foxes looking for chickens, just as you predicted. We set them ablaze. You should have heard them scream."
Edward smooths down the front of his robes. "I think I'd rather not."
Emmett stops his men as they drag Caius past, so he could take a closer look at the man. Caius is still slouched in a dead faint, and wrapped up in one of his tapestries. "We got the son of a whore," Emmett smiles widely, and turns to his men. "Kill the rest, leave no survivors."
"Except Jasper," Edward says quickly. Emmett's hulking bannermen are standing over the naked figure of the berserker with their spears raised.
Emmett looks at him, surprised. "Why? We've no more use for him."
"No one touches the berserker!" Edward snarls. Emmett raises his hands in front of his chest, taken off guard by Edward's ferocity. He regards his brother for a moment before nodding at his men. Two of them bend to pick Jasper up by his chains.
Exhausted, Edward sits down atop a low table, knocking over a plate of tamarinds. He watches as Jasper is flipped onto a red-stained sheet of curtain and carefully dragged out of sight.
Emmett looks around the tent, taking the butchery before him in stride. He picks up a small bunch of grapes, still sitting in their bowl, and pops one in his mouth.
"So," he says thoughtfully, glancing at Edward sideways, "why was he naked?"
xxx
Next chapter will be called A New Guard.
I've planned to wrap this story up in five(ish) more updates, but they will be long chapters and will take some time to write and edit. So please bear with me!