As promised, Chapter 8. Fresh out of my fingers. ;P
Lyra quickly surfaced after hitting the water and cried out in pain as both the wound on her side and the bullet hole on her shoulder let her know that she was being far too active with such fresh injuries. Cringing, she looked up to see just how far she had dropped only to discover that Boy had made the leap as well and was plummeting in her direction. She yelped and barely swam out of the way in time to avoid the collie as he landed with a heavy splash. When his head popped up, she glared at him while he merely gave a sort of doggy grin with his tongue flopping out the side of his mouth. The princess just barely resisted the urge to shove him back beneath the water and turned towards the shore where a figure now stood staring in her direction.
Nothing could have prepared her for the shock she received at that moment. Her mouth fell open as she treaded the murky waters. "Elliot!" The man in question merely looked confused by both her presence and the fact that she knew his name. His eyes fell upon the dog as they exited the pool, finally widening in recognition. Elliot's head then snapped back in Lyra's direction and he seemed speechless. Apparently her appearance had changed quite a bit since the last time he had laid eyes on her; so much so that he could scarcely believe that she was the same Lyra. "But you were… Logan had you executed," the princess said, eyes narrowed at her ex. He gazed at her in disbelief. "And I... I thought you were gone. Do you know how hard I've tried to forget you?"
Lyra frowned, wondering how in Avo's name Elliot had escaped his fate. She eyed him carefully as he came closer and wrapped her arms around him hesitantly when he hugged her. "Walter managed to pay the guards off," he explained, pulling away, "He couldn't save those rebels, but he… he paid the guards to let me go. They brought me here to Industrial and I've been here, hiding, ever since. " Now the princess was extremely ticked off. How could Walter keep something like that from her for so long? Why didn't he tell her that Elliot was alive? She felt betrayed and angry. She didn't know how she was going to react the next time she saw the old knight, but he definitely had it coming now. "Walter told me about his plan too. So, you're really going to lead a revolution against Logan? I'm so glad, but did you come looking for me? Is that why you're here?"
The question pulled Lyra from her thoughts and she shook her head. "Linda sent me. I didn't know it was you. Like I said, I thought you were dead," she replied. "Oh, Linda! What am I going to tell her? Just when I think I've got everything sorted out, you come back into my life," Elliot sighed thoughtfully. The princess turned away, looking down the tunnel that seemed to be their only exit. "What do you mean what are you going to tell her? There's nothing to tell. She asked me to help get her fiancé back and that's what I've done. Soon as I get you out of this sewer, that is." Grinning, the man stepped closer and put his hand on her shoulder. "You know what I mean, Lyra... Are you… are you jealous?" He seemed amused by the idea, but lost his grin when she glared at him.
"I'm not jealous. You were supposed to die. I wanted you dead. I didn't want to marry you," she admitted, "But as long as we are no longer betrothed, I don't bloody care what you do." Elliot couldn't believe his ears as his hand slipped from her shoulder and fell limply to his side. Her words probably wouldn't have been so brutally honest if she hadn't been upset with Walter, but with them he realized that Lyra had not been undecided that day in the throne room. She had known exactly what she was doing when she held her tongue and though it pained him to admit it, he had somehow known the truth all along. "Oh… I see. I guess I understand. It was the only way for you to get out of it... I know how much you hated the thought of marrying me." Without acknowledging the hurt in his voice, the princess set off in the only direction available and he hurried to keep up.
As they traveled in silence, Elliot tried desperately to understand why Lyra had undergone such a terrifying change. She wasn't the girl he knew. The princess he had known was not perfect, she had her faults, but the one leading him out of the cesspool was cold and seemed so… wicked. There didn't seem to be any emotion left in her besides feelings of hate and greed. He wondered if Logan's actions that day had finally driven her over the edge. That had to be the cause. He tried to force her to choose between two innocent parties and sentence one of them to death. Yes, he tried to convince himself that Lyra had changed and that it was the king's fault; that she was not always this way, but he was wrong. Perhaps somewhere inside, he was aware of that.
Even as Lyra and Boy battled through the hordes of Hobbes that spilled from every corner of the subterranean level, Elliot was lost in thought. He watched how fluidly her body moved, contorting to avoid the flailing attacks of the despicable little creatures despite her wounds, and marveled at her control over Will. It reminded him of the stories Walter had told them when they were younger, about the Hero Queen, and he realized that Lyra had inherited all of her mother's legendary abilities. She was a Hero. But there was a strange wildness in her eyes when she fought that made his skin crawl. It was almost as if some beast was caged just behind those blue portals, more vicious than anything she was fighting, and it was struggling to free itself and ravage the world outside in its rage. In all the epic tales Walter had spun for them, he'd never mentioned anything like that about the previous queen.
"We must be close now. We're almost back to your precious Linda," she said, picking off two Hobbes with her pistol. It was then, as they neared the rusted door that would surely lead them to freedom from the filthy, Hobbe-infested pit, that his heart finally caught up to everything his mind had been aware of all his life. Lyra had changed nothing but her appearance since her last day in the castle. She had always been a callous, sinful, bully and it wasn't until he knew real love with Linda that his eyes opened to the truth about the woman he used to have so much affection for. She really was no better than Logan and if she ever took the throne as she and Walter planned, Albion could be in for a much darker future.
When the very last Hobbe standing between them and freedom fell dead at Lyra's feet, she turned to face Elliot with sword still drawn. "Do you have something to say to me? Don't think I can't tell when someone is glaring daggers at my back," she smirked, causing him to stall in his tracks. He lowered his eyes timidly, looking for some kind of confidence to say what he wanted to there on the sewer floor. Picturing Lyra sitting on the throne of Albion, surrounded by miserable servants, he found that confidence. His chin lifted and he scowled at the apparently amused female. "I do have something to say. A lot of things, actually. I'm finally able to see you for what you are, Lyra," he said, trying his hardest to ignore the bloodstained sword propped so casually against her shoulder.
The princess tilted her head and arched a single brow as she asked, "Oh? And what do you see? I'm dying to know." Elliot took another moment to build up his courage before continuing. "You're nothing more than a heartless, bitter witch. I used to feel sorry for you, thinking you only acted so shamefully because you never had any real parental guidance, but Walter gave you all the direction and affection you could ever need. You lost your parents, but there were still so many people who cared for you. And you used those people as if they were nothing more than disposable trinkets meant to amuse you; even Walter! I hate what you've become, and I'm starting to think that maybe… maybe I've always hated you."
Lyra had remained perfectly quiet and eerily expressionless during Elliot's long-winded rant, never batting an eye or recoiling in shock from the things the normally soft-spoken man said. When he was finished, heaving before her and waiting for any response she may have, the princess calmly raised her sword from her shoulder and pressed the tip against his throat. "Is that really what you think of me? I must be wretched indeed if even one of my oldest and dearest friends could say such things," she said, her face still curiously blank. Elliot swallowed hard, eyes crossing slightly as he stared down at the cold steel resting against his skin. He couldn't say he expected anything less from the wayward princess, but it was still quite frightening. "I'm not your friend, Lyra. You never let me close enough to be your friend," he stuttered.
"Well," said the woman, finally showing a bit of emotion with a smirk, "I wager you'd be highly opposed to me ascending to the throne, then." Elliot gulped again and raised his hands slowly, hoping to convince her that he meant no harm when he said, "You don't have to kill me. It's not like I could stand in your way." Lyra nodded, rolling her eyes upwards to stare at the ceiling thoughtfully. She lowered the tip of her sword a few inches, but the man was no fool. He knew her well enough to know that it wasn't going to be that simple. "You're right, Elliot. I don't have to kill you. In fact, for old time's sake, I should probably deliver you safely to Linda and then let us go our separate ways. That would be the proper way to handle the situation, wouldn't it? You agree with me, don't you?"
Elliot, still sensing the conversation was not quite as peaceful as Lyra's deceptively calm voice made it appear to be, didn't respond. There was a storm brewing. Or, perhaps it was that caged beast he sensed, its guttural growl rumbling just below the surface of its human mask. She tsked as she shook her head and lowered her eyes, leveling them on his frowning face. "But then… to hear you tell it, I'm not the proper sort. So," she said, lowering the blade completely, "What shall I do with you? Killing you, well, that would be too easy, too predictable. I don't want to do something so… expected of me." "Lyra… think about what you're doing. Think about who you're turning into. I've said it before, but I mean it now more than ever. You're just like King Logan!"
Elliot could almost swear he heard something shatter the moment those words passed his lips and when Lyra's hand shot out, grasping his neck, it felt as though the appendage had transformed into some bestial paw. He had intended for his statement to calm that inhuman thing stirring inside the princess and make her see reason, but instead he had only succeeded in breaking the already unstable bars holding it at bay. "Yes," she growled, her fingernails cutting into his tender flesh, "You've said that before. I'll have to make sure you never say it again." With unnatural strength, Lyra lifted Elliot several feet into the air only to slam his trembling body harshly against the soggy sewer floor. With the wind knocked out of him, he could do nothing but lie there as she searched the immediate area with glazed eyes.
Unfortunately for the stunned man, Lyra found what she was looking for. Her right hand still latched tightly around his jugular, pinning him to the ground, she snatched a rusted dagger once employed by the Hobbes from nearby. Elliot stared at it wide-eyed, wondering what she was planning, but afraid to know. She grinned darkly and revealed her plan by sticking her tongue out and miming a slicing motion with the filthy blade. When the reality of the situation hit him, Elliot's formerly locked muscles regained their strength and he began to struggle against the princess' iron grip. "Shh, shh," she snickered, lowering the tip of the dagger towards his mouth, "We don't want Linda to hear."
Lyra then made several attempts to cut out Elliot's tongue and succeeded only in giving him several disfiguring slashes across his face. With only one hand, it was far too difficult for her to hold open his mouth and fend off his flailing limbs while she tried to complete her goal. With a huff, she realized that she would need at least two hands. So, maneuvering her knee onto his throat to hold him down, she managed to free her right hand for the cause. "Alright, now be still. We don't want to put any more scars on that pretty face," she cackled, wedging the dagger between his teeth to pry open his jaw.
Despite being bitten and having blood spat into her face several times, Lyra eventually managed to slip the knife past his gnashing teeth and cut off his waggling tongue. His garbled screams echoed throughout the spacious tunnels as his mouth filled with blood. Scampering across the floor to escape his tormentor, Elliot clasped his hand over his mouth. When he came to an empty corner, he crawled up against the wall and whimpered helplessly. The princess regarded him apathetically. She then sighed and got to her feet, tossing the dagger away as she retrieved her sword and secured it on her back. "Oh my, I've certainly made a mess of things. You'll have to forgive me. That was the first time I've cut out a tongue. I suppose it takes practice, practice, practice," Lyra shrugged.
Elliot ignored her, unable to focus on anything besides the excruciating pain in his mouth and the dizziness that came from losing so much blood. Frowning, the princess moved towards the corner in which he coward; followed by Boy, who had sat quietly for the duration of his mistress' assault. "Oh, Elliot," she sighed, gazing upon his cut and bruised face, "I can't leave you this way. I may be, what did you say, a heartless, bitter witch? Yes, I may be that, but I'm not without my moments of clarity where even I can see when a line has been crossed. Letting you finish out the rest of your days disfigured and mute would be too cruel. And Linda, think how she would look at you day after day, knowing what a weak, pathetic man you are."
Lyra frowned when Elliot still refused to acknowledge her. His skin grew paler by the moment and his brow glistened with droplets of perspiration, but she knew he was still conscious and still capable of hearing every word she said. He obviously wasn't going to giver her the satisfaction of hearing him try to speak without his tongue and so she decided to go ahead with what she had in store for him. "Alright, Elliot. Well, I should be getting back to Linda. I have some rather unfortunate news to deliver and I'm sure she'll need a shoulder to cry on after I tell her what Ferret's men did to you," she said, crouching down and draping her arm across Boy's back affectionately, "Kill him." The order had barely been uttered when the dog lunged forward, hackles raised and teeth viciously bared.
I said once that I didn't want you to love Lyra or to hate her… But I give you permission to hate her now! Hehe. Especially if you liked Elliot. Hey, I liked him too, but he brought it on himself. He knew how much Lyra hated being compared to her brother! :P
Well, anyway, this was one of Lyra's darker deeds. And with each one of those, she loses a little more of her humanity, I'd like to think. I'm a little worried about Walter, aren't you? It's not like she's going to forget that he's been keeping secrets from her. I guess we'll find out soon.
Next chapter will pick up right before Reaver's masquerade. I was going to write my Lyra doing a few of the available quests during this period to gain the support Page asked her to, but I figure you guys are more interested in seeing more Reaver. I know I am.