To experience Owain's memories of Queen Marika always disturbed her. He did not see the merciless conqueror that others did, he did not see the ruthless goddess, the woman whose ambition and desire for absolute power could never be sated. He saw a lifelong friend, a noble and radiant queen, a benevolent goddess. Even after all that had happened, Ranni knew Owain still saw the good in Marika. He may have turned from her and her order, but Ranni suspected Owain was not so closed to the eternal one as he said. She tried not to hold it against him, he'd served Marika for his life entire.
Having seen the memory of Marika's reasoning, it was as the final blow to the ice before it broke. Ranni dreaded this elucidation, this welling horror that clawed and scraped its way from within her. Owain was looking at her worriedly, as he had been since…since Alecto. "A sculptor, Ranni?" His calloused hand rested softly on her knee. What heat he had, what warmth.
She blinked away her daze. "Tell me, Wain; didst thou oft see mine father and Marika together? Were they happy? Didst he…love her?" Ranni struggled to regain some of her usual cool demeanor, attempted to master these fraying nerves that unspindled so precariously.
She watched his throat bob, his jaw clench. Ranni knew he misliked speaking of such things with her, but her scientific curiosity, and the need of a daughter to understand her father, pushed her on.
"Lord Radagon…" Owain sighed, his hands now absentmindedly kneading at her feet. Were she not so tightly wound, she would tease him for his restless nature. The gold of his eyes shone in their dimmed chambers; a fiercer light than even their hearth.
"Please, Wain." Ranni guided his gaze back to hers with a slow touch.
"To speak frankly, darling. Your father seemed ever to despise the queen. Though his faith in her power, in the order, was unwavering. You know better than I that your lord father was a man of few words and fewer confidants. They appeared oft in public view together, and over time his hatred may have lessened but…I saw much that others did not." He worked the muscles of his shoulders with a shrug. "My-Queen Marika seemed to think little of him as well. Not hatred, truly; something more akin to apathy. She viewed my lord as more of a-" He cut himself off, eyeing her cautiously.
"Of a what, Owain?" Ranni already knew.
"A tool, Ranni." He said reluctantly.
Ranni sighed. "For what she sought."
"Aye, wife." Owain slumped back on the couch, head towards the ceiling.
"And didst she find it?"
"I do not know. You asked me if they were happy; I would not say so. Just as your father took mother's heart with him at his departure, so too did it seem that Godfrey took Queen Marika's. She did not smile overmuch after his banishment." He paused, regarding her squarely. "Ranni, what is it? What has a sculptor and Alecto to do with these questions?"
Ranni had stalled long enough. She scowled at her shaking hands, at the sweat on her palms. Her flesh panicked from the knowledge her mind did not wish to see as truth. "I will share with thee what transpired in the moments I went forth ahead of you."
She wiped away his frown of concern with trembling fingertips. He kissed them, eyes too kind. "As you wish, darling."
Ranni could not breathe. Could not think. This fire in her was too tortuous to bear, it scarred and melted. The golden bitch had not slain Owain, but the fingers and Ofnir. Sniveling, whispering, plotting, wretched Ofnir! With her own hands, had her husband's death been aided! Argh, she would destroy the all knowing, rend his flesh, freeze the shriveled thing he called a heart and crush it in her grip!
She'd done his bidding, Lunar Princess Ranni had been outwitted and it was far too much for her pride to take. Ranni had cleaved spirit from body in hopeless despair that had not needed to be hers to bear at all! Had sacrificed the soul of an innocent man, of Owain's closest friend, all at the behest of the fingers she despised and a coward that she looked down upon.
The princess hovered above the entrance to the gaol, the magic to enter taunt at the tips of her fingers. Ranni could not seem to even her breath, tears most irritating poured freely from her eyes. Sweat pooled in her throat, her limbs almost vibrated with all the rage she held within. To have a body once more was a marvelous blessing, but she was surely falling out of control. The witch tried to shake herself from her mania, there was death to be dealt.
There was one that she could spend her wrath upon, one who would feel the hopelessness that she had, one that was yet within her grasp. Alecto. Ranni dropped to the stone of the prison, willing herself entry.
The prey she sought sat in a pile at her feet, leapin' up in surprise at Ranni's entrance. Seeing her brought forth Ranni's rage once more to the forefront. "Princess-"
"Be silent, snake." Ranni blast the black knife with freezing wind; it's force enough to suspend the assassin against the outer wall of shifting smoke. "You stole him from me, wielded the knife thineself!" She screamed. "Only once I hath unraveled thy mind in full, wilt I be satisfied with thy death. I'll takest what vengeance I can snatch from thy corpse, traitorous cur." The woman's mouth was moving, surely to beg mercy, but Ranni would not listen. The witch tore wide the assassin's thoughts with a guttural roar.
Knowledge was something Ranni had always thought she could never get enough of. It was power, it was control, it was safety. She would wield it as a weapon just as fiercely as her magic. Alas, Alecto held poison within, burdensome, cloying and choking. For as Ranni careened through the years of the handmaiden's life in search of knowledge and with the burning desire to hurt; she saw clear, one of the woman's greatest secrets and it blinded her to anything else.
Alecto had long been in love with Owain.
This revelation snatched away the momentum of her retribution, replacing it with morbid, stumbling shock. Ranni saw too many contented moments from Alecto's eyes. Too many hidden smiles when Owain was not looking, too many lingering, covetous gazes, too many 'friendly' dinners and gentle days. The witch felt, all too keenly, the adoration of the assassin. Alecto saw Owain just as Ranni did, a beam of purest sun that lit softly, the suffocating darkness within her. A stalwart man that she could turn to for kindness and strength when the death and toil and strain was too much.
Ranni saw a kindred spirit in Alecto and it infuriated her. Worst of all, it bred hated sympathy in her newly gained heart, for how could she hate completely, one who loved the same man as she with so pure of devotion. Such sincere feeling and the knife had never acted upon it. Despite Ranni's best efforts, she was ever sentimental at heart.
She felt Alecto's stifled panic as she first read the false missive. She felt the numbness of a warrior who forsook all else for duty, the grief as her sisters died in horrible succession; killed by one she held dear. The aching, desolate sorrow as Alecto brought her own blade across Owain's throat. The breaking of her heart as Owain looked upon her in naught but naked hatred, wrathful even as his golden eyes dimmed dull. The deafening, condemning silence as their dark task was done, broken only by the gasps and sobs of her sisters.
That was the trouble with memory magic, if Ranni was not careful, she felt the holder's own emotions just as potently as they.
Ranni had not been careful.
She ripped herself from the assassin's mind with a hoarse cry. The woman slumped against the outer wall even as Ranni collapsed to her knees. It was not her who slain Owain. It was not her who'd- Ranni retched up that morning's repast. Her ribs ached, her throat burned. She could not banish the physical sensation of pulling a knife across Owain's throat from her wildly shaking hands. Ranni pressed her palms into her eyes in the vain hope that this lingering hell would fade all the faster. Wirra! Wirra! What a terrible nightmare this was, what horror had she leapt into so recklessly. Her anger was almost laid low by shared grief.
"I had come-" A weak cough. "To Caria to offer my life." Came a wheeze at her side. Ranni startled, snapping her eyes open, when had Alecto crawled so close?
The princess wiped at her nose with a sleeve, trying to appear in control with a vicious glare. "Didst thou truly think such a paltry thing worth anythin' to me in comparison to my prince?" she spat.
Alecto rolled slowly to her back, Ranni was surprised she yet remained coherent after the harsh casting of such an intimate spell. "No."
"I wouldst never offer thee absolution." Ranni snarled.
"I know." Alecto spoke tiredly to the false sky.
Ranni viscerally wished to destroy this woman but her damn curiosity prevailed. "Thou…lovest him still?"
"Y-yes." Ranni wished to slay her for such a reply. The spell to do so was riotous in her mind's eye. Her baser instincts ever warred with her cunning nature. She hated the fact, but she knew she shouldn't kill Alecto just yet. Intellectually she understood the advantages and possible insights they could gain from leveraging the black knife. Alas, her heart yet screamed for blood. Especially after what she had just experienced.
She bared her teeth as she spoke. "What shallow feeling then, to be able to…end him." Ranni held back another retch, as the phantom sensations returned.
Alecto turned her head to regard Ranni, the dull gold of her hair flat in the half-light. "What is a woman's love to a goddess' command?" The assassin's eyes were miserable and it disgusted her.
Ranni slammed a hand to her chest, leaning forward on her knees. "I wouldst burn this world entire for mine husband." Her words were a hoarse tumble. "I wouldst supplant the stars and moon and sun, kill the gods, kill mineself, for my Sunbeam. Thou dost not knoweth true love."
"True obsession, perhaps." Alecto laughed shallowly. "Not all love in the same way, I was ever content to love him in secret as we worked together, adore him from afar as he gave Tiche some semblance of the father she'd lost." At Ranni's furious expression, Alecto raised a hand slowly. "Forgive me princess, I should not tease you so." She paused to regain her wind. "I may have spent lifetimes longer at his side than you, but you know him better. You are the one he loves in return, not I." Alecto admitted, voice faint. Ranni distantly enjoyed the look of pained acceptance on the assassin's face.
"I wish to end thee for your blind idiocy." Ranni said quietly. She shook her head, she should leave Alecto to rot until she found a proper use for her, but her heart was feral in its cries for this…this coward's end. Ranni grit her teeth, she could not allow her flesh to dictate her mind.
"I've no doubt. I…I fear I may welcome the death. After so long in mourning, trapped in this prison." Alecto chuckled bitterly. "I felt it, you know, the shattering of my beloved queen's heart. I could not bear the shame of what I'd done, nor the shame of my failure. My daughter has been long missing and with her departed my last purpose. I could not face my queen, so instead I had thought that you, Owain's betrothed; might find some measure of satisfaction in my death."
The princess sighed. "Before my husband returned to me, I wouldst have snuffed thee out with most savage joy." Ranni sat back, leaning on her hands. Focus, girl. Collect your duplicity, vengeance can be had when all worth has been extracted. She closed her eyes, breathing slowly until at last she felt the familiar icy pragmatism that she sought. "Now, I can not be so self indulgent. Thou'rt to be a wealth of both useful information and forced servitude."
"Servitude?" Was that hope Ranni saw in Alecto's eye? Perhaps the villain thought she could atone, the notion alone almost made Ranni laugh.
A thought had come to Ranni as she watched this pathetic woman, Alecto surely craved Owain's forgiveness. A fact that she would use to their advantage. "An assassin skilled enough to lay low mine consort is skilled indeed. I've plans for thee, foolish blade. For now, thou shalt rot." Once Ranni had formulated proper countermeasures and controls to free Alecto without worry, she would sic the woman on Ofnir. Surely if there were any that could find that craven, it was the leader of most feared assassins in the lands between.
A slow tear trailed unheeded down Alecto's sharp cheekbones. The assassin smiled weakly. "For Owain, I would offer both gladly and freely." Her voice was repugnant in its repentance.
Ranni scowled, the sound of her husband's name from this woman's mouth made her want to turn Alecto to ice. The princess was was bleeding from her palms with how tightly she balled her fists, the blood slipped from between her fingers to stain the stone beneath. She must control herself. "I wilt search thy mind. Dare not resist."
"As you wish, Lunar Princess."
First, Ranni would seek out moments with Marika, any knowledge of the queen she could gather would surely be useful. It was in this search that Ranni found an odd moment, set apart and wreathed in the queen's magic, a memory hidden even from Alecto herself. The death of a sculptor.
Through Alecto's eyes, Ranni read the missive, hunted the man down before he could depart from the capitol. Through Alecto's hands, she slammed a blade betwixt his ribs. Through Alecto's ears, she heard his bitter, panicked last words. "Sad- little puppet." The man coughed out. "Can you not see? Radagon is Marika."
Ranni pulled from the assassins mind quickly, eyes wide and heart pounding. Why would the queen hide such a thing from her own assassin? Why would she have that sculptor slain if his words did not hold some truth? What did this mean? She stumbled up, legs stiff. Ranni needed out of this prison. These heart rending revelations and dangerous questions were too ponderous without Owain at her side. She transported away without so much as a word to Alecto.
It was all too much. Her eyes ached and stung, her hands were sore, she'd scraped her knees on the stone of the gaol. She shuddered into a curled seat, wrapping her arms around herself. Ranni was at her wits end, she could bear no more.
Once more in the present, Ranni eased back from Owain, reluctant to look him in the eye, she stared instead at his downturned lips. After long beats of silence, he spoke, voice soft. "I am sorry, darling, but I fear the meaning of the man's words is beyond me." He tipped her chin back with a curled finger. "And I had no idea Alecto felt thusly, If I had, I would have rebuked her, Ranni."
Ranni tenderly ran her hand along his jaw. She had no doubt he spoke truly. His love and loyalty for her was as sure a thing as moonrise. "Thou'rt sworn to secrecy on this, Wain. I am nursin' a theory as to the truth of his words. Alas, I hope I am wrong, for if I am right, mother shall be lost to us for good methinks."
He said nothing, but his dark expression spoke for him. Ranni allowed herself to be plucked delicately from the couch and brought their bed. As she worked her toes under his legs and curled herself into his side, Ranni breathed in the scent of her beloved, armor polish and horse and comfort beyond compare. The tension that had been devouring her for the last few days was blissfully halved since she had shared her worries with him. She was so grateful for Owain, this storm was one she could weather with him at her side.
The cleanrot knights called to him. He had gone forth without his helm in the hope he might be recognized, but this was heartbreaking. Owain and Torrent made their way carefully the remnants of the center of the great clash between Melania and Radahn's forces. All the while, the cleanrots, the only ones left in such concentrated rot that had any mind left, would not stop calling his name. "Ho there, cleanrot." He called, stopping Torrent a stone's throw from the latest of the knights.
"Com-der. Save our- Malenia." The woman's voice was guttural rasp.
Owain had already searched much of the battle field, the only other with his faculties somewhat intact was Commander O'Neil, who he'd sent back to the keep with several preserving boluses. It was impressive indeed that the man remained somewhat sane after so long in this hellish place. Though, Owain had needed to persistently convince the old warrior that the battle was in fact finished, so perhaps his mind was more waned than Owain thought.
"The princess is not here, knight. Be not afeard, I will seek her out and keep her safe. You may rest now." He cast a small spell of numbing to ease the woman's passing.
As expected the warrior, who was little more than instinct at this point; collapsed to her front, unmoving. This was the tenth or so clean rot who had reacted in the same manner. Owain frowned. The only thing he'd found of any worth here had been offered up by the commander. A needle of Miquella's purest unalloyed gold. He finally gave up his search, there was nothing here to be found save lingering death and creeping madness.
Heavy were his thoughts as he rode from Aeonia towards Sellia. The memories Ranni had shared with him had settled jaggedly in the forefront of his mind. Alecto had loved him? Yet another thing he'd be utterly blind to. She was one of his oldest, closest friends, and he'd had no idea! Not that it mattered overmuch now, or really, not that it had mattered since the day he had met Ranni so many years ago. He only wished he could have let his friend down gently. Though, the thought was somewhat in conflict with the knowledge the woman had killed him all the same.
When he so tried to distract himself from Alecto's confession, he was left with the other revelation Ranni had bequeathed to him. Radagon was Marika? What did such a thing mean? That Radagon was ever loyal? Anyone who interacted with the man could have seen that clearly. Owain sighed, he was so weary of this rumination. He would leave it to his clever wife to decipher.
He met Ranni within the ancient city of sorcery just as she was finalizing another spell of purification for the air. The Sellians had welcomed his sentinels and their fresh supplies with open arms some weeks ago. How they had preserved this city that sat so near the sea of rot for so long astounded Owain. Ranni had remained behind while he'd gone forth over the blooming the last fortnite, to puruse their library he suspected. He dismounted Torrent and gathered her into an embrace swiftly, burying his nose into the crook of her neck. There was nothing like her scent of lilac and old books to chase the rot from his nose. "Are you ready?" He murmured.
He felt her nod into his temple. "Aye. Let us go wake my brother."