TW: Incest, Domestic Violence, Non-graphic Mental Torture
Our investigation had barely begun when it came to a screeching halt. The dealer was just a pawn of a pawn, and his bosses weren't nearly as cooperative as he was. Each new link we brought in for questioning wasted more and more of my time. Before I even knew it, my week was up. This led to a pivotal conversation with Galbatorix.
"I'll be gone at least another week. As soon as we get one of them to turn on the others, the whole operation will unravel." I sat cross-legged a few dozen yards from Katana. She'd chosen a hilltop outside of the city for her morning snooze. The isolation coupled with her presence to dissuade visitors made it the perfect place for a report in.
"No." Torix's image occupied my little mirror. His eyes were glued on the page in front of him, though I had a burning suspicion he was rereading the same line.
I seethed. "I wasn't asking-"
"Nor was I." His tone was sharp as fractured glass. "You will return without further delay. This is not a debate."
"I agree. With all possible respect, I will remain in Kuasta." How very familiar his expression was: furrowed brows, deep frown, and a truly paralyzing glare. It was that exact expression that haunted my youth. I felt the urge to buckle; to fend off the storm of rage that brewed ominously just beyond the surface of my little silver mirror. But there was a lesson to be taught here, and for once I was in the teaching role. "Your blessing was a matter of formality."
"Blessing!" Torix stood, the spell rising along with him to keep his eyes in focus. I was grateful for the distance between us; it was easier to mouth off to the man when one was out of his physical presence. Many years separated me from the time he would beat me for every little thing, but the memories were still powerful. They shrank my courage. But, here, with at least a day and a half's flight between us, I could risk agitating him. "Lilleth," he ground out, "you will be back in Uru'baen by the morning or I will personally-"
"That is no way to speak to your queen."
Torix froze. He worked his jaw back and forth, like a child trying to swallow a bitter tincture. "I am not in the habit of taking lectures from my own-"
"From your partner. No longer a student, nor servant, nor even a child." I rested the mirror on a tree stump, leaving him staring up at an empty blue sky. "And I am telling you that the situation in Kuasta runs deeper than we suspected. I will report back as soon as I can, but not before my work is complete. The safety of our people is at stake."
Silence. A dragonfly hovered around Torix's tiny, furious image. The insect perched and fidgeted its opalescent wings. A breeze, which should have been a respite from the nightmarish heat, only pushed around the heavy air in mocking gusts.
When he did speak, he sounded calm again; dangerously so. "I want reports every evening and for every bit of progress, regardless of the hour. When you return, we will discuss the matter further." He severed my view of him, the surface of my mirror suddenly turning inky black against his wards. The dragonfly shot off into the sky, afraid (even as I was) of what Torix's next move might be.
I groaned. And now he's angrier than ever.
You can't expect a fish to fly just because you imagine its fins are wings. Katana's philosophizing was undermined somewhat by the persistent images of her most recent snack. She'd had to go far out from the city for her "fishing" antics; lest her appetite upset the local ecosystem beyond repair. Even the waves she made (bobbing about like a hatchling) were hazardous to smaller vessels.
Brilliant observation. Now what the hell does that mean?
He is as he is; nothing you say or do can change that. She pulled back from my flurry of irritation and mused, If anything will separate the two of you, I think it will have to be ego.
Ridiculous!
You're both thick-skulled, sharp-tongued, and proud. Two strong personalities in close quarters are bound to come into conflict soon or late.
Torix and I are mature enough to handle conflict!
Perhaps you are… Katana's thoughts faded into a background hum as she laid down for her midday doze (not to be confused with her late morning nap).
The drowsy heat was so seductive; how effortlessly I could get lost in a patch of shade to sleep (and sleep and sleep ) away every worry or care. I patted my cheeks to bring me back to life. No time to worry about any of that now. We need to make progress on this mess. And quickly, before Torix bites my head off!
-:- -:- -:-
It aided my mood that the dungeons were deep beneath the castle; far from the unforgiving rays of the sun. My hostess and I walked down a narrow passage of rough-hewn stone, accompanied by one man at arms with a lantern. Lady Devina had swapped her attire for a more seemly, linen gown in subdued fawn brown and even wore gloves to protect her thin fingers from the chill. Or perhaps , I mused, she's loathe to touch anything down here. It so seldom occurred to me that other noble ladies possessed the luxury of squeamishness. Even someone like Devina, so fearless in her political maneuvers, shrank meekly from real filth.
"We followed every order to the letter, Princess." A single guard, seasoned and unshakable by the look of him, stood outside of a solid door off the main hallway. It was thick, laid in iron bands, and fit into the wall with meticulous precision.
"Good," I said. "Wait out here with our escort. My Lady, I will understand if you wish to do the same."
She lifted her chin minutely. "He is my prisoner. I will be present for his questioning."
"Questioning?" I glanced back at her, rolling up my sleeves. "We are far past asking him questions, I'm afraid."
The lady stiffened. "I do not approve of using torture to obtain truth. It is often… imprecise."
"I agree wholeheartedly." I untied a leather cord from my wrist and fastened my hair back. "The methods I have at my disposal are guaranteed to be accurate if absolutely nothing else."
Devina's brown skin drained of all warmth. "Of course, you should do what you think is best with my blessing. Though it seems I would only be underfoot were I to join you?" And there it was; a subtle and dignified refusal to dirty her hands with the barbaric necessities of our world. These were matters better left to her servants… to those who were already scarred and broken beyond repair.
I smiled. "I'll rejoin you upstairs when this business is done."
I opened the door and slipped in as quietly as I could. The prisoner's gravelly snores covered my entrance, but they also irritated my freshly frayed patience. I tugged the portal closed with as much force as I thought it could withstand. In the tiny box-like chamber, the reverberation rattled my teeth. Though we were plunged into total blackness, I heard my guest jolt in his seat, pulling against the leather straps that held him upright in a metal chair. "How kind of you to join me at last. Unfortunately, I have no proper name with which to greet you. Shall we begin with an introduction?" I cupped my hands and whispered a few words in the ancient language, fixing an ominous red glow in the doorway, perfectly at my back.
He was an unremarkable man; middle-aged, middling height, thick but not obese, head shaved smooth and shining with sweat. "I didn't do a damn thing, and I have nothing more to say to you people until you get some kind of real evidence!"
I slid a finger over an impressive collection of implements, all hanging in tidy rows from hooks on the wall to my left. She may not approve of torture, but her jailer certainly does. Were my mentor present, he would spend a day just making the wretch pay for running his mouth, and then redouble the pain for wasting his time. I may have picked up the skills necessary (as much from experience as from practice) but I'd never developed Galbatorix's bloodlust. I settled on grabbing a tooth-marked wooden dowel and forcing it into the man's mouth. "I see that manners are lacking in every member of your team. Your underlings had attitude problems too," I patted the top of his bald head, "at first. But then we had lovely little chats; mostly about you. I know when so many birds sing the same tune they must be part of the same flock. So, as a matter of courtesy, I will ask you plainly. Shall I call you as they did, Toad, or do you have a real name beneath that slimy facade?" I tugged the hunk of wood free to await his answer.
He licked his lip where I'd bruised it and grimaced. "Vico Abbraxio; chief advisor to the-"
"No titles, thank you. All of that was forfeit the moment you dipped your toes into peddling poison." I replaced the dowel on its peg and wiped his drool on the man's own shirt. "If I had my way, your life would be so as well, Vico, in payment for all the lives you've helped ruin."
He rolled his shoulder as best he could in his restraints. "I don't much like your way."
I sighed theatrically, tinkling the chains of a truly fiendish flail just out of his sight. A distant memory echoed in the back of my mind; a darkening forest, the sounds of nightmarish laughter, and a panicked act of magic that nearly killed me. Then Galbatorix's patient tutoring: Imagination is the root of fear. One needn't be the monster; they need only outline a place for the monster to take shape and let the subject's mind do the rest. "Then you'll be relieved to hear of my further disappointment. You see, I wanted to chip away at you piece by agonizing piece for my own… peace of mind? It's as close to justice as I can offer your ilk." I leaned against the wall behind him, putting a firm boot on his upper back when he tried to look at me. "But justice requires time that you and your associates have not allowed me, Vico. You have left me with no choice but to break you open crudely, like a rotten gourd, and claw through your guts to find what I need."
A lifetime of entitled swagger wouldn't give out so easily. "Oh yeah? Hell of a threat, little girl. Let's see what you've got. I promise, your tricks aren't half as scary as what my bosses already put me through just to get this job." He tilted his head to the side and spit on the floor. "They don't let rats in their families."
His bluster reminded me too much of Ellessar. He was a snotty prick too, especially when cornered. "It's a good thing that I don't need to scare you." I dropped my foot back to the ground and meandered more to my left, circling back to stand in front of him. "I'm only speaking to you at all for my own convenience, and because even vermin should be offered a splinter of mercy." I shifted my hand away from my body and tilted my palm until it caught the light. But then, I heard Galbatorix's lesson as clearly as if he stood beside me in the room, it is so very gratifying to play the monster from time to time. When I was a girl I didn't fully understand what he meant. But moments like this, wherein a man who had just promised bitter resistance suddenly collapsed in despair… Those sent a guilty shiver through my whole body. "It is not a question of if you will submit; that is beyond your control now. The only thing yet undecided is how much of your mind will be intact after our 'chat.' Open yourself to me, and perhaps I will allow you to remember your own name. Fail to do so…" I spread both of my hands helplessly.
Again, his narrow tongue flicked over his lips. I was starting to understand why his gang of thugs called him Toad. "I can't." I crossed my arms and he sputtered. "I'm not refusing! It's not that I don't want to- believe me, I want to!-but I can't ."
I tilted my head. "You've sworn oaths in the ancient language to defend their secrets?"
He nodded vigorously. "With everything I have."
I sighed. I was so hoping to intimidate the wretch into sparing me the effort. "Then alas, this is farewell, Mr. Vico. A pity that your superiors weren't as careful with their employees as they are with their ledgers. Normally, I would let you rest now…" I pivoted back a half step, letting the uncanny glow catch my pitiless smile. "But you have been unconscionably rude."
It takes skill and training for a mentalist to work alongside even one partner. But to rally a dozen crazed dragons into a surgically precise instrument, then use them to dissect an unwilling mind? That requires a gifted hand. The prisoner gave a mighty resistance in light of the circumstances. I left the eldunari clawing at his fractured barriers while I sifted through his every thought. It was an exhausting process, living another's life with their screams echoing beneath every hazy memory. Much of it was a mess of hedonistic self-gratification with interims of painful sobriety. He climbed the ranks of the organization as a means of funding his own lusts. Finally, a memory of a very important meeting broke through his desperate attempts to pry it from my clutches.
I wished to god that I'd let him.
Because, to my shock and disgust, I recognized the face swimming before his eyes. No amount of time could erase the memory of him because he was one of the faces I had been forced to memorize long ago; one of the faces I had to avoid at all costs and on pain of much worse than death. I saw a heavy-set, greasy man with piggish eyes and a mouth that had never known a smile. Behind him, though I only caught the sleeve of his emerald green velvet coat, could only be one man.
Their ring leader was one of the forsworn.
I don't remember bidding farewell to Devina. I never stopped in to visit the strange scholar a final time. (It would be many decades more before I saw little Jeod again!). One thought churned over and over in my aching head, so violently that I thought it would crack me open; Did. He. Know ?
-:- -:- -:-
"Everyone out." Over a dozen eyes turned to me in abject horror. This group was clearly comprised of advisors rather than nobles; less garish in their dress and more visibly exhausted as a whole. They sat around the meeting room's central table, each one frozen solid as the northern ice waste itself. Only one man refused to acknowledge that I'd spoken. Galbatorix, I swear to every demon in every hell that I will set this room on fire on the count of four, whether these sad sacks remain or not.
Is that a promise?
After, I added irritably, I gouge your eyes out. One.
You're being unreasonable-
Two.
Lilleth, this is insanity!
Three. I casually shifted a hand towards my belt.
Torix got to his feet with unseemly haste. "I hope that you will all excuse Lilleth's interruption. It seems there are matters other than the survival of my subjects that also require my attention. For now, break your fasts and regather your strength. We shall meet again at first light."
I've never seen a group of people so eager to leave a room in my life. Nobody dared even make eye contact with me or Galbatorix. When the last one had flown, I pushed the massive door closed and tossed a handful of shoddy wards over it for good measure.
I was glad I did too. Otherwise, any stragglers would have heard Torix slam me into them by my throat. I knew he'd be ticked, but somehow I'd convinced myself that such displays were behind us. It was a soul-crushing blow to realize I'd been mistaken. "Have you lost your wits?"
I gripped his wrist as tight as I could, digging my nails into his tendon. He twisted free, retreating back and staring at me in equal parts mounting fury and astonishment. I hissed, "Did you know?"
"I know a good many things, but none of them explain why you're acting like a feral alley cat!"
"Do any of them explain why you're acting like a weasel?" I curled my lip in open disgust. "Answer the damn question!"
"Ask it!" He threw his arms wide, "For both of our sakes, you evil-minded shrew of a-"
"Balor is responsible for the deaths in Kuasta." I snarled. "Now I want a clear, honest answer from you Galbatorix: did you know?"
"Why in the name of every fiend would I have sent you if I did?" He leaned one arm against the table. "For the love of… is that it then? You want to know if I wasted your time-"
I dropped both hands on his sea of papers and sprayed them all over the room. "Don't you dare claim ignorance now! We both know that you've got your hands in every single thing the forsworn have ever done. It is quite literally inconceivable that Balor could run a drug empire and you be none the wiser." His confusion hardened into rage. His muscles tensed. I reacted on instinct, decades of training and sudden indignation overwhelming even my fear of his wrath. He tried to grab my arm, and I slapped his hand so hard that I cut my palm on one of his rings. I clenched my fist until blood dripped between my fingers. "Is that your answer then? The moment you're faced with a problem that's beyond your gods forsaken lies you turn into a brute! I knew you were a bastard, but I didn't take you for a coward-"
His punch was unexpected. But then, so was mine. For the first time in my life, I didn't even care what happened to me, so long as I managed to hurt him as much as I was hurting. I beat at the wards around his vitals, less to actually murder him and more to prove a damn point. I found I could reach his arms and I clawed at them whenever they strayed too close, our blood mixing sickly on my fingertips. I fought like a wounded badger… but I knew there was only one end.
He finally managed to wrestle me under him with his full weight. One sleeve had been ripped completely off my tunic, a deep cut oozed blood on his left cheek, we were both breathing heavily, dripping with sweat, and glaring at one another with something like hatred.
And then he kissed me.
I bit down hard the second his lips got close. He pulled back, eyes misted over with…. No… it couldn't possibly be…
"You had better be fucking kidding me." I squirmed beneath him. "How dare you, how fucking dare you lie to my face then try to flirt your way out of a beating-"
"Easily, lover." The words held none of his usual mirth. I went cold, suddenly far too afraid of exactly how much damage he could really do in our current position."You really are stunning when you're angry."
"Let me up so I can bash in your stupid skull."
"Not a chance." He pinned me by my shoulders, pulling back enough that he could look at me without letting me spit in his eye. "If it will finally cease your bitching, then I will explain. Of course I know that Balor is involved in the underground; that has always been his realm of expertise. As to this newest enterprise, I know little. My guess is that Idril helped him doctor an exsiting drug to greater efficacy. With that consideration, it's a miracle the fatality rate isn't higher. Now," He risked only pinning one shoulder, stroking my cheek. "As to your impertinent wailing-"
"Impertinent? What did I say about-" his punch caught me mid-word, right across the jaw. I tasted blood; saw the gash the blow had left on his hand where his skin hit my teeth.
He didn't even flinch, just carried on in an eerily calm tone. "You are exactly the reckless little brat that you've always been. You find one worthless secret, and you have the arrogance to call me to account? To tell me how to treat a woman; any woman?"
I'd almost managed to collect my wits… until that final phrase. It took everything in me to keep my voice steady. "You really see no problem with any of this?"
He blinked.
And the rage boiled over into something stronger. " Garzla." The room went utterly black. He'd tensed and retreated fractionally to defend himself from a direct attack, but he left himself wide open to an indirect one. I curled one leg up until he fell back, cursing and gasping for air. I wriggled away from our tangled position and ran to the door, blowing it open with another spell so the door hung crooked on its hinges. I released my hold on the first spell, winking us back to the glaring brightness. "You're twice the fool and thrice the scoundrel I thought you to be." My throat tightened to the edge of pain. "Keep out of my way Galbatorix, or I swear I'll tear this whole shit show down around you." I turned and ran, as fast as I've ever run in my life. I could not, would not , let that son of a bitch see me cry.
That night finally broke the drought that had been hanging malignantly over all of our heads. The city erupted in impromptu celebration, people of all sorts sprinting heedlessly through the relentless downpour. I nursed my hurts in a cool bath, numbed and bitter and drowning my rage in weak wine.
Wouldn't it be lovely if that was as far as this disaster went? If I woke up from my short dream and found the prince had turned back to a toad- pardon me, frog- as I slept? But no… I was still a fool for him; I let him make me so. This argument was not our last, nor even our most explosive (there are some memories that simply should not be put to paper. The most brutal actually required Morzan of all people to physically separate us!), but it was the one that changed our family the most.
On one hand, It began my personal crusade against Balor. It may have been pettiness and spite that drove me, but my cause was still more than worthy. That one was the worst sort of creature known to our world; fueled by greed and lecheries so vile that it's really better to leave them untold. His henchman, the greased pig I saw in the memory, was named Beren. He… well, there will be time enough to tell his tale. The pair of them make me violently ill to this very day. I'm relieved that they're both long dead at the time of this writing, though I wish I'd gotten the chance to do it myself.
But my war against Balor and Beren was nothing next to the energy Galbatorix spent worming back into my good graces. He tried every trick in the love bomber's handbook, even tried "sincerely" apologizing. One of the times he came wheedling me for forgiveness he made the desperate plea, "What can I do to make it up to you?" I gave him an absurd list of demands (most of them actually about improving his character and behavior, but gods know he skipped all of those), ending with a "palace by the sea". Within the week, he'd delivered exactly that.
That place became our refuge during brief escapes in autumn and winter. No politics, none of the forsworn, enough distance between two caves that Katana and Shruikan could comfortably ignore us and each other. It was a short flight south from Teirm, nestled up on a cliff where we could still hear but were not affected by the waves. Though the property technically belonged to me, I spent every moment there with him. In our home he wasn't a king; he was just mine.
I blinked my eyes open, impotent as they were against our pitch-black bedchamber. The distant sound of waves lulled me into semiconsciousness. Somewhere, out in the velvety blackness, water crashed against the stony cliffs with raucous abandon. As their revels drifted up to my window they dulled to distant echoes of their full power; a gentle hum of nature. The sound was still alien to me after decades of living in the landlocked capital, but I was growing to love the shoosh that lulled me to and from my dreams. My hand struck out in the covers. I frowned when it touched only cool bed linen. Where had my live-in warmth wandered to at such an hour? I stuck my legs out of bed and into my slippers, groping in the dark for something to ward off the chill. My fingers closed on something plush and silk-lined. If his robe was still here he couldn't be far. I tugged the garment over my shift and padded out of the bedroom, leaving our bed and my waves behind.
The door swung open silently (a testament to the same oiling that had allowed him to sneak by me) into a leisure-room. A log popped in the fireplace on my right, sending another flare of ruddy light over the floorboards and into the depths of a dark, plush rug. Rows of elegant tomes lined the walls, (some more aged and loved than others) soaking firelight into their glossy leather spines greedily. The only breaks in the book and brick barricade were two windows placed on opposite walls. Underneath one lay an abandoned chess board, pieces scattered across the table from the same antics that had prevented the game's completion. I rubbed the back of my neck, not even bothering to repress a smile. For such a controlled, he certainly falls to pieces easily if one knows the right buttons to push.
"Lilleth."
My foot stopped mid-kick. I flicked my eyes up to meet the disapproving gaze of my combatant. "Hm?"
"You're doing it again." He tapped his finger once and chose a pawn at random to shove fruitlessly up the board.
"Am I?" I snapped up the chance to exchange some material, ending off one move up and a queen richer besides.
He frowned. "You did that on purpose." His expression soured as he took in the situation.
"Of course. Mind games are a valid strategy."
"Is that so…" I didn't have time to register his devilish smile before he scooped me up. Next thing I knew he had me pinned on my back over the wreck of our game.
Heat rushed to my face, but I still managed to stutter out, "Just so you know, abandoning a game is an automatic surrender."
"I guess I'll have to make do with a consolation prize."
I smiled.
Something had cooled him off if he hadn't even bothered to wake me. Though it is yet to be seen if that is for good or ill. Another sound intruded on my musings and I eased out the breath I hadn't meant to hold. He was playing.
Beneath the other window and tucked partially into a corner was a tired old piano. The paint chipped off along every edge and the highest E flat couldn't stay in tune worth a damn; in all ways, she was an instrument at the end of her life. But none of that mattered now. She crooned out a haunting melody, streaked through with profound sorrow. The man seated at her helm kept his posture relaxed and his head bowed- an oddly serene pose for his clearly pensive mood. I slid a foot forward, hoping against hope that he would ignore my intrusion. He let me cross all the way to the bench, though he was certainly aware of me by then.
Even though he had blocked off his mind from me, I remained dimly aware of his consciousness. His thoughts felt like an ancient, brooding forest rather than his usually untamable bramble. Echoes of fathomless, bitter despair radiated from him. Only one thing could have such an effect.
I slid onto the bench.
He hesitated mid-note, almost turning away from his task to look at me but he paused when I looped an arm around him and rested against his side. "Don't stop."
He braced as if he were teetering on the edge of something reckless… or perhaps painful. After a moment he acquiesced, long fingers effortlessly gliding across the worn keys. I closed my eyes to listen as I pet through his hair. The thick, silky strands provided negligible resistance. The soft scent of our previous misdeeds still hung around him and I nuzzled closer. The melody drew us both into its depths, letting us wander freely as it rose and fell in time with the distant waves. Almost subconsciously I pressed my thoughts gently into my companion's until he lowered his barriers.
No doubt he had earned his fearsome reputation. His thoughts were powerful and domineering to the unprepared eye but, to me, they parted easily and were as familiar as my own. I didn't bother communicating directly; we were past such necessities. My thoughts floated around his frayed edges soothingly until the storm within quieted to a manageable timbre. The music faded to silence. We felt tears burning the corner of our eyes and we lifted a hand to brush them away. He jumped when his finger bumped my wrist.
He curled his fingers around the joint and pressed lightly on my pulse, absently brushing his lips against my fingers. "Thank you." His voice creaked slightly with disuse, but that hardly lessened its enchanting quality.
And such a voice there had certainly never been. Now and again I lamented that his path had driven him to politics rather than to artistry. If he had used his gifts for good he may have ended up equally famous but for very different reasons. "Not likely," he said aloud. "I don't think the bardic life would suit me."
"Oh? I think some aspects of it may." He scoffed as I kissed his shoulder. "Adoring fans, frivolous drinking, no council meetings or mountains of paperwork…"
"I wouldn't have you." He spoke softly but firmly and I got the distinct impression he believed his point to have been made.
"Would that be so terrible? If I weren't around-" His fingers tightened on my wrist. It was only for a moment but I jumped at the sudden pain. I grinned anyway. "- then I couldn't humiliate you at chess." He scrunched his nose and I flashed him my most devious smile.
"Someday, I'll make you choke on your mockery." For all his posturing, it lacked the fire of a real threat.
"You won't."
"You believe me incapable?" I could feel the dare ringing in the accusation.
"I know you're plenty capable." His ruffled feathers soothed as I stroked down his back, digging in my nails at the base of his spine, "but that's assuming I give you the opportunity." He shivered and tried to grab my waist but I ducked away and danced back out of reach, "Not that this isn't fun, but come back to bed. It's too cold to sleep alone."
He shook his head ruefully and followed my steps, lacing his fingers with mine.
I hate how important those moments were to me back then. I hate how I relied on him to feel safe, to feel… whole. Every memory of that place is tainted by his presence in them.
The real agony of this time is that one of two opposite things must be true. It's possible that every single moment of tenderness was a sham he put on to win my confidence; no more factual than any other snake oil sales pitch. But it is equally possible that it was real, more real than he ever allowed himself to be before or again, and the man I could never love enough is buried forever in his own madness. In either case, it is a pitiful state of affairs.
Unfortunately for both of us, our shared sanctuary and my interference with Balor would be enough to bring our fragile peace crumbling down.
