#Maeve Ramshackle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thebard490 · 1 year ago

Text

Paladins Chapter 7: A Day After

I am the Bard, who knows the tragedy of guilt, that only those who are not yet lost feel it, and yet it makes them feel as though they were already lost.

After rousing themselves after a long night of undead smiting, the party set about getting ready to move out. They were slowed somewhat in their departure as they paused for a couple hours to construct a small shrine to Maeve in the woods outside their newly reconsecrated chapel. Thanks to their late start, they didn’t make it far before dark began to fall again.

They made camp, and Jort reported that they were now only a few miles from the abbey. After some debate, Senket and Yndri determined to set out into the night to scout the location. After an hour, they arrived. The abbey was indeed an impressive structure that almost resembled a castle more than a place of worship, a huge wall, twenty feet tall, surrounded a sizable area. Behind the walll they saw one main building with a tall bell tower, several floors, and multiple wings. This abbey could probably hold the majority of the colonizing force by itself, and with its strong fortifications, taking it would prove difficult.

The pair snuck closer to the walls, which glowed faintly red in the faint gleam of infrasight. Elves and tieflings alike, both being primarily carnivorous predatory species, had specially developed eyes, able to close an inner eyelid to shift their vision into the infrared spectrum.. They were indeed warm to the touch. They spied guards walking in patrol, and once one passed, they raced to the edge of the wall. With a boost from Senket, Yndri leapt, her fingers just catching the lip of the parapet, fully extended above her head. She pulled herself up just enough to peer over the walls. The walls were thick enough for two men to walk abreast with no discomfort, and there was only a single gate, a huge oaken thing reinforced with steel. Inside the walls was a lake, an orchard, and enough space that a ramshackle goblin camp had been built. Through a window she could spy a hobgoblin walking by inside the main building, it seemed they'd reserved that part of the place for themselves. She ran the numbers, estimating the size of the main building, then dropped back down.

Senket watched the walls carefully, until she saw a light above the gate. She peered closer and saw the flaming ghost of another Tiefling, clad in full plate and bearing a brilliant sword. He looked to her and then pointed towards the abbey. "I am the heart of fire in stone. I am the story unforgotten. I am victory over the darkness. Seek where I rest. Restore us, heir of fire." It commanded, then faded.

Yndri dropped from the wall next to Senket, startling her from her reverie. "Did you see him?" The startled Tiefling demanded.

"See who? Is there a commander?"

"No, the ghost. The flaming Tiefling?"

"Nothing ghostly and nothing flammable." She said with a shake of her head.

"Pits." Senket cursed softly as they retreated back into the dark woods. As they moved from the abbey, they made the startling realization that it, and everywhere within a few meters of it, are totally free of the black vines. They shared a "Well that's worth investigating later" look and slunk back to the encampment. Back at their hidden camp, the paladins discuss the situation worriedly.

"If the measures ye've given me are accurate, assuming dwarves built it, an' that's a fair guess with those walls an' that gate, an' taking into account both mess halls an' a primary worship center, we're looking at around a hundred tae five hundred hobs, nae counting the goblins camp, which could have just as many if nae more. Wit' those walls an' those numbers, we cannae jus' charge in an' take it, that'd be suicide." Kazador said grimly as he observed the rough map Yndri drew of the abbey.

"Even if we 'ad the numbers fer it, I'd nae challenge this place with an army. It's built like a bloody castle an' has both water and food, probably with an unknown amount o' stores. Even in a siege this place would be bloody to take. We need an advantage o' some sneaky or seriously magical kind."

"I strongly doubt the abbey building is full to capacity." Julian said. "Hobgoblins are intensely hierarchical. A horde this size will have probably a single commander for every ten men or so, and while the grunts might bunk together, any commander will probably have their own private room, and the warlord probably has an entire suite for status symbols. If the abbey was full, they'd have built more hob quarters inside and forced the goblins out."

Jort nodded in confirmation. “Pompey calls it a legion, but we’re only about two hundred strong in terms of legionaries, closer to three hundred with goblin and bugbear singulares.”

"What about those goblins?" Peregrin asked. "Hordes usually treat them the absolute worst, and this time's no different. Maybe we could convince them to rebel?"

"That would require trusting goblins to work with us." Senket said with a snort.

"Not necessarily, if we get them to fight, odds are whoever came out on top of this will be fairly badly weakened. Then we can strike." Julian pointed out.

"Nae, it'd be a one-sided slaughter. The hobs are bigger, stronger, and far better equipped. Besides, the goblins would nae be able to work together as a whole without a leader nasty enough that we'd nae want to arise."

"What about poison? We know what they're using for a water source, we could poison that and weaken the entire horde." Yndri observed, pointing to the lake.

"Two major problems, first we'd need a lot of poison, and we'd need to find a way to purify that lake again if we mean to hold this place. Which is also going to require that we get the colonists here, which is just another problem no matter how we do it." Julian advised, pondering the map.

"What we really need is more information, especially about the inside. Here's the thought. We find their commanders, assassinate them, and then funnel their forces into a killing zone. If we can bottleneck them, we nullify the numbers advantage, and while I don't fancy the idea of how long we'd have to fight to wipe out a hundred hobgoblins, we're more than a match for them if they can't come at us more than one or two at a time."

"As entertaining as the idea of slaughtering an entire army is, that's an extremely risky plan. I doubt their commanders will be so easily dealt with, especially if they're spread out. Even getting to them would require infiltrating the place, which is a problem in and of itself." Sen pointed out.

"We're attacking too many problems at once." Peregrin observed. "Let's lay them out and solve each in turn. They have three major advantages. They're occupying a very strong defensive position, they have a serious numerical advantage, and they know the inside of the abbey. However, they have two major disadvantages. Their forces are divided between the goblins and the hobs, and the hobs are highly reliant on an intact command and control structure. We have the advantage of surprise and superior combat ability on a per-soldier basis. What do we do with this?"

"Let's start with the defenses. From what we can gather they have three major defensive lines. There are the walls themselves, which we could probably climb, although doing that quietly is going to be a problem. Next is the goblin camp. If we go stealthily then this is a massive moray of possible alarms, and if combat breaks out here then we're probably dead. Last is the abbey itself, which we don't know anything about. Not a pretty picture." Julian said, pointing at each section.

"The walls can be climbed relatively stealthily, but they have guards more or less constantly." Senket pointed out. "Getting anyone besides Yndri and Peregrin over without setting off the alarm isn't going to happen."

"What about here, at the gatehouse." Julian said as he pointed it out. "If Yndri and Peregrin can kill the guards there quickly enough, we could slip open the gate and get inside before anyone noticed. Of course, then we're on a timer until they change the gatekeepers out."

“The gatekeepers only change about every six hours.” Jort contributed. “However, the patrols give a check to see if it’s all clear there every time they pass by. At best, you’d have about five minutes.”

"I can be remarkably fast over short distances.” Kazador mused. “We could get in, providing there was a way of keeping the enemy from noticing the dead.”

“I think I may be able to put something together given the right components, or could simply dominate the gatekeeper and have them repeat the all-clear.” Julian suggested. “But even then, there’s a hundred goblins between us and the abbey proper.”

"Exactly, but those goblins could be the solution to all our problems." Peregrin points out. "If we can get them on our side, or at least enough of them, they could be a way inside the abbey, and a valuable source of information."

"How exactly are ye gonna get them on side laddie? Yer a fine speaker but ye cannae simply wander in an' say 'allo there, ye feel like an' uprising? Even assuming they dinae kill ye, the hobs most certainly will."

"I go in disguise. I'm the same size as a goblin and speak it to boot, so if we were to disguise me like one of, say, the wolf riders we killed back at the watchtower and ride in with a warning about that tower's fall, I could get in."

"That could work. It might even bait them into sending forces away to try to retake the tower, which could be an opportunity to strike at some of their forces and reduce their number." Julian said, visibly brightening at the idea.

"You're carrying around a book of magical rituals." Yndri pointed out. "And you'd need to be able to disguise yourself anytime you had to take off that helmet of yours, wouldn't you?"

"While I appreciate the confidence, there's a couple of problems with that particular spell, which is why I keep the aforementioned helmet on. Namely, it only lasts an hour. Good if you need to make a quick meeting with a potential employer or prevent rumors from popping up in an inn, but not good for long term infiltration."

"Huh. I suppose the stories about fey being able to hide themselves permanently were just stories then." Yndri said, sounding slightly disappointed.

"They probably could, but that's because they're essentially made out of magic, and while I've got my suspicions about why exactly this place is constantly summer, looking for faerie backup is probably foolish." Julian responded. "That being said I could potentially be the infiltrator."

The party stared at him for a moment. "I can cast that spell as many times as I like, I just need ten minutes to do it. I could disguise myself as a hobgoblin and sneak inside. If I lose my disguise, I'm also the most likely to escape considering I can just fly out. I can identify the commanders and get the layout of the interior."

"De ye ken how to speak goblin though?" Kazador said, and the frown on Julian's face told him that he'd poked a hole in the otherwise rather clever plan.

"Disguise is still the best idea for information gathering we've got thus far, and it might even let us deal with their numbers somewhat. It's risky, but I say we try it." Senket said. "But just in case, I say we introduce the disguise to one of their scouting parties first to see if it will fool them."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Jort, who had been waiting for one of them to notice him for some time. The paladins turned quickly, and Peregrin facepalmed "You know, I really should have thought of that sooner."

"Small problem, can we trust him?” Julian asked, cutting to the quick of the matter. “No offense, but you did already turn on one set of allies, and it would be a relatively simple matter for you to claim we were responsible, and then take control of the legion for yourself.”

Jort raised an eyebrow at the manner. “I’m an eighty, about the bottom of the barrel. I’d really need every other major officer in the legion to die first, and then probably to kill at least one of you in single combat to do that, and while I’m a better swordsman than you are, you’ve got the advantage of your powers.”

“I’m going to chose to ignore that comment about my swordplay, given you managed to cut your foot in half.”

“You use that greatsword of yours like a club.”

“It’s a greatsword, you don’t exactly fence with it.”

“Enough.” Senket cut in. “Cease this bickering, the both of you.”

Julian crossed his arms. “I’m simply saying, it’s what I would do, given your situation, it appears only logical.”

“I think that may say more about ye than ye care too laddie.” Kazador rumbled. “Though it does bring a wise point to mind. Ye never did say what ye meant to do after Pompey was dead.” He noted towards Jort.

The young hobgoblin shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t entirely know.” He admitted. “I’ve spent the past two years trying to find or manufacture an opportunity to kill him, I didn’t really think about what came a day after. I will say though, I never thought to take a legion for myself. I’m sixteen for crying out loud, I’m certainly not qualified to be a leader.”

Julian’s eyes widened, and then his attitude softened somewhat. “Ah, that… hm.” He considered carefully. “I appear to have miscalculated.”

“You were wrong?” Yndri corrected.

“If you want to put it that way, yes. I prefer not to.” Julian replied, notably embarrassed, but also softening his stance somewhat towards Jort. Kazador watched him carefully, noting the odd sort of shared pain in the nephilim’s eyes. “My apologies Jort.”

That earned a serious eyebrow raise from the hobgoblin. “Well that’s a first.”

“I try to not mistakes too often, if I have it my way it’ll be the last.” Julian replied with a grumble. “That said, you clearly have intel on the inside of the abbey already. You could just give us that and then you don’t need to risk going in.”

“I have intel on the layout, but not on what Pompey is currently up to, and I assure you, he is always up to something.” Jort countered. “This lets me get you that, and potentially being on the inside to open a gate, or put a dagger in Pompey’s eye.”

“Save your temper laddie. Dinnae do anything too rash.” Kazador cautioned. “Even if ye’ve nae figured out what to do with your life, I cannae suggest throwing it away.”

“Isn’t your god one of vengeance?” Yndri pointed out.

“Justice. An’ precisely so that folk dinnae have to take it into their own hands.” Kazador corrected.

“I’ve waited two years for justice to fall on Pompey. I can wait a little longer.” Jort consoled.

“Justice to fall? You’ll be waiting a long time for that.” Julian remarked. “Justice is in what we do about it. So yes, do something about it, but at a time where you get to live to enjoy your vindication. But waiting on fate, on the gods, on the will of heaven? That’s a fool’s game. The gods care for their justice, and theirs alone. The problem is they’re all disagreeing about it.” He mused carefully, tracing the edges of his spellbook. “Not since Mardok fell has there been anything strong enough to make there be a singular justice, one that forced all others beneath itself.”

“I would hardly say that is so.” Peregrin countered. “Justice, in the sense you are termining it, means nothing more than right and wrong. Right is right, and wrong is wrong, regardless of whoever says what it is.”

Julian snorted. “Perhaps, but the high and mighty rarely admit that there is any sort of standard beyond those which are self-imposed. Not that I blame them, one should really only be limited by their dreams, and ambition to achieve those dreams. So often, that which is limiting is placed upon you by someone who was simply stronger. The highest truth will and always will be power.”

“I should certainly think not. The highest truth is truth.” Peregrin countered. “It’s a bit tautological, but if you don’t hold what really is to be the highest truth, how can you convince anyone of anything?”

“What really is is very malleable, given sufficient arcane power. It would be nice to think that there really is a justice, an absolute law, certain as gravity, but you’d need something of an absolute power to enforce that.”

“Or, simply good people.” Peregrin answered. “Are we not here?”

“Good people aren’t enough.” Julian replied. “No mere mortal can bear all the world’s evil, though I admit it is the right thing to do to try.”

“Who are you to carry all the world’s evil?” Senket asked incredulously.

“Someone willing to try, which is more than any god seems willing to.” Julian replied. “Though, admittedly, someone nowhere near strong enough. But I have to do what I can with what I’ve been given. I can’t simply allow things to go on as they are without trying to fix what’s broken.”

Yndri laughed, somewhat coldly, but with a rare smile that contained some warmth. “You are a fool, Julian Tyraan. Right about some things, and so very wrong on so many others. But at least, you make an endearing fool.”

“I’m only a fool so long as I haven’t done it yet.” Julian replied confidently. “And I will do it. I have to, because somebody has to.”

“Aye, for once we agree laddie. The world is crooked, an’ it is to good men to set it right, though I give the gods more credit than ye. Ye perhaps dinnae give them credit enough.” Kazador rumbled in concurrence.

“No, perhaps he does give them what they deserve.” Yndri mused darkly. “They allow far too much. Though perhaps, it is simply because they lack enough hands.” Her arrows glinted in the dark, her eyes no less bright.

Senket shook her head solemnly. “How is it that I, hellbound from birth, am less a heathen than an angel?”

“My father was an angel, it’s how I know they’re not all they’re cracked up to be.” Julian replied.

“Daddy issues.” Yndri repeated, earning a snort from Kazador that threatened to set dinner on fire.

As the rest of the paladins scrambled to extinguish their dinner, Jort stepped away, sitting near to Peregrin. The two watched, Jort with a sort of longing curiosity, and Peregrin with a familiar, grandfatherly smile. Jort turned to the halfling. “You keep bringing up the goblins, but it’s not just for a tactical reason. Why?”

Peregrin took out a small pipe and began to smoke from it. “Because I think that anybody can be good, given the chance. Can, not will, plenty will chose to go on being wicked, and then you have to stop them. But anyone can chose to be good. For some it is harder than for others, because of bad education, history, or temperament. But anyone can be, much as Julian is right about how what people think justice is often comes down to the bigger stick, anyone can be good. Goodness is written onto the hearts of all living creatures. We see it, we know it, we remember it. We do often get it so very wrong, or chose to ignore it, but it’s always there. So, there’s always hope, even for the darkest heart and the biggest bastard.”

“So that’s why you didn’t kill me?” Jort asked.

“More or less. Though you’re good company to have around besides.”

“Thanks, I suppose.” Jort was quiet for a long moment, and then Peregrin spoke again.

“You never do say you want revenge. That’s interesting.” The halfling observed. “What did you say? You want to be free of him. You want all of your brethren to be free of him. What does freedom mean?” He asked the young hobgoblin.

“Not him.” Jort retorted immediately, and then thought about it. He thought about it for a very long time. Peregrin had blown four smoke rings and seen each dissipate before Jort finally admitted it. “I don’t think I really know.”

“Well, you aught to think on that some more. It’s always important to know what you’re fighting for.” Peregrin concluded.

“So what do you fight for?”

“For the people who haven’t been given their chance yet.”

#bard #creative writing #creative works #i wrote it #order undivided #paladins #writing

0 notes

smurphyse · 3 years ago

Text

Desert Hollow

Masterlist

Chapter 10 of Over Your Shoulder

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Jasper Donnelly Keaton (Long Lost Love AU)

Word Count: ~11k

Summary: This was originally a single chapter with Chapter 9, but I decided to break it up for readability!

Warnings: Torture, talks of torture, Mentions of drug use, Murder/Body mutilation, Death, terror

Desert Hollow, California- Seven Hours Later

They were sent to an old mining town called Desert Hollow. It consisted of a few ramshackle houses and shops with ranches and farms on the outskirts. People lingered on the streets to gawk at the team in their FBI gear as they rolled into town.

Spencer, JJ, Jasper and Luke were sent to the location where the body was found, the others to the police station and the coroner’s office. This was the third body of a local deputy in as many weeks, and the terrified sheriff had called them in as soon as this one had been found.

They found themselves engulfed in the desert canyons, the sun beating down on them with no relief under the cloudless sky. Spencer studied the photos of the body that had been taken before the coroner claimed it. Jasper stood next to him, plum and spiced cherries wafting from her as she huddled close to see the photographs. It was incredibly distracting.

He hadn’t slept that first night after Moe’s. After taking a ‘toasty’ Jasper to the hotel, Spencer took his time getting back to his apartment, then lay in bed for hours staring at the ceiling.

Ten months of his life played, moment by moment, on the popcorn ceiling as he watched helplessly. Jasper’s soft smile and bouncy hair, Spencer always trailing close behind, his hand loosely entangled with hers. Late nights drinking and laughing with Jack Keaton. Alyssa showing up out of nowhere and flirting with him in front of Jasper, which aggravated them both to no end.

He’d written her off as harmless, as had Jasper. Spencer always showed Jasper the depth of his affection for her, but as their relationship reached its ninth and tenth month, their arguments began over her missions, his hours at work, their inability to have a moment alone without Jack or Alyssa breaking their peace.

Finally, his torture ended, the horrid memory of Jasper’s face, wounded and full of hurt, having barely the mind to snatch her purse from the table and flee from him. He went after her, but by the time he got to the front doors of the building she’d disappeared, vanished like smoke into the darkness.

Spencer had kept an eye out for Jasper over the last few months, unconsciously figuring out which times she’d be likely to come to Moe’s based on their schedules. He clung to those moments like a lifeline, soaking up every available bit of time with her. He knew he was holding onto a hope that he shouldn’t have. Jasper didn’t trust him, and based on what she knew she had every right not to, but part of Spencer would always hope she wanted him again.

He didn’t even know how a relationship between the two of them would work now. Jasper had stayed so much of the same but changed an equal amount. He knew he was the same way, and that the longer he went without telling her of the things that happened in the last fourteen years, the greater the gap would be between them.

But he didn’t want to tell her. Not about prison, Tobias Hankel, Maeve. So much had happened, so much had hurt him, and his first instinct now that Jasper was back was to flee to her arms and have her comb those limber fingers through his hair and sing him to sleep like she had before.

He wondered how much she had yet to tell him, but knowing Jasper, she’d never tell him half of it. She kept everything close to her heart, wrapped tightly away from the world and even herself, so she didn’t have to feel the pain that lingered.

He knew Jasper, but little of what led to the Jasper he’d known. He knew her father was abusive and scary, and that her mother did little to protect her. He knew that she grew up dirt poor and had to fend for herself before going into the Marines. He knew her father had died just after she turned sixteen, and her mother had abandoned her to him a while before that. He knew she had a friend named Sam, and that something horrible had happened to him, but he never knew what.

She would wake up screaming, desperately clawing her way back to the world from her dreams. He tried not to ask questions, to help soothe the nightmares away. She’d mutter to herself as she woke up, then apologize and cry for waking him up. He’d shush her, humming along to that song she used to lull herself back to sleep, and soon enough knew the lyrics well enough to start singing it for her. His voice wasn’t as good as Jasper’s, but it seemed to help her enough.

Daddy, stop!

Wake up, Sammy, please!

Just stop, please stop.

Those desperate shouts for relief haunted him, especially when she went away on missions. She’d come back with new things to scream about in her sleep, her eyes glassier and further away each time she came back.

She told him before her last mission that she was leaving the Marines once her bit was up, and he was terrorized with the knowledge that she’d stayed after she left him. His perceived betrayal led her straight into the line of fire, and she hadn’t looked back, coming back now grizzled and hardened in a way she hadn’t been before. He wondered if she still sang to herself, wondered if she still had his Caltech sweater to curl up in when she was scared.

“This is gross,” JJ muttered, glaring at the bloodstained sand. She’d seen the crime scene photos, quickly growing bored with them and scanning the scene instead.

The body had been decapitated and placed on the top of a pike of sorts, as had the other pieces of his body. His entrails were strung between the poles like grotesque garlands. It was clearly for shock value, and judging by the few piles of vomit on the perimeter of the scene, it had worked.

Jasper had moved away from him, scanning the canyons with her hand on her holster. Luke was watching her carefully, clearly thinking hard about what to say to her. She had that same look when Spencer had taken her to Las Vegas all those years ago. Her hand had been on her hip, scanning the skyscrapers for snipers and monsters nobody else could see. At the time, he hadn’t really understood PTSS as he did now, but he could tell by Luke’s face that he was thinking the same thing.

“Where not in Iraq anymore,” Luke muttered, bumping his hip with hers and startling Jasper out of her thoughts.

“I know, you asshole,” Jasper growled, taking a breath and scanning the sights once more. “JJ, Spencer, come here.”

“What is it?” JJ asked as they huddled a few feet from where the body had been. Jasper gnawed on her cheek for a moment, then turned to Luke.

“Do you remember Fallujah?”

“Unfortunately,” Luke nodded slowly, unsure of her point.

“What does that have to do with this?” Spencer asked. He had never been to the Middle East, but knew that between Jasper and Luke, they’d both covered most of the area and were experts, and Luke had mentioned something bad happened in Fallujah when they were in Alabama.

“We were ambushed on our way back from a mission,” Jasper began, her voice level, “we got pinned down and had to run into the hills. Luke was shot, nothing too bad, but enough that it slowed us down while we climbed through the terrain.”

She stared at Luke, hard and grave, then spoke again, “We had to hide in the cave.”

“Fuck,” Luke muttered, swiping a hand down his face. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, sighing heavily and watching Jasper worriedly.

“You see it now?”

“Yeah.”

“What are you guys talking about?” JJ asked impatiently. It was hot and uncomfortable outside, and they were ready to leave the canyon as soon as possible.

“We hid in the cave for three days,” Luke told her. “Marines have special training in camouflage and hiding in enemy territory. Jasper and Jack created a blind, covering the mouth of the cave. Our team hid in the cave for three days… while Iraqi insurgents set up a camp right in front of it. We had to stay in complete silence, and we watched them search for us, but they never found us. We managed to sneak out of the canyon and get back to our Humvee, then we met up with another convoy and went back to base.”

“We saw everything,” Jasper said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “Everything they did, heard everything they said, for three days. They never even noticed us.”

“But you noticed something here?”

Jasper nodded, “Don’t look, but thirty yards behind you, Spencer, is a Marine-made blind. Nobody would notice it unless they knew how to make one themselves.”

“Why would they set up a blind?” Luke asked her. Jasper had become the de facto expert at this moment, and they all looked to her for direction.

“There’s not enough blood here, so obviously our guy wasn’t killed here. But, the unsub set up the remains to shock and disgust whoever found it. Why do that? Why not kill them here and make it really messy?”

“It’s too hard to get in and out of the canyon,” JJ offered, fidgeting as she tried to not look around for the blind. Spencer felt the same, his neck tugging to force him to look for it.

“Then why even put the body here? It was so unlikely to be discovered,” Jasper told them, “but, if you’re patient, or trained to be, you could hide out in a cave until someone stops by and then you get to see how horrified they are by what they found.”

“You think they’re still in the cave?”

“Maybe,” Jasper shrugged, “Maybe they stayed long enough to see the first responders, then headed out. Either way, if there’s a Marine hiding out in that cave, I don’t want them to know that

we can see it until they have no escape.”

Luke turned and walked back toward the two deputies near the cars, the rest of them trailing closely behind. “Follow me,” he told them quickly, then stepped into the SUV.

They glanced at one another, hesitating before getting into their car. Spencer glanced at Jasper, who was watching the two with suspicion. They piled into the SUV, the deputies following in their car through the canyon, then they circled back on foot.

Jasper and Luke led the way, and Spencer and JJ were blown away by their speed and agility. They glided gracefully through the sand, even in their heavy boots, while the rest trudged slowly behind. They motioned to one another, having silent conversations only achieved through years of working together and shared trust. They had entire faith that the other would protect them, no doubt was present in either.

They stopped behind the mouth of the cave, having come back through the canyons and snuck around it. Luke motioned for JJ and one of the deputies to follow him, and they scaled the back of the cave. Jasper, Spencer, and the other deputy waited ten minutes in silence, Jasper never leaving her back exposed to the stranger, then peeked her head around the edge.

She turned back to them, motioning for them to fan out behind her. They turned the corner and approached the mouth of the cave, Luke’s small team doing the same on the other side. Jasper and Luke pulled down the sand-colored netting in a swift motion, then stormed the cave.

There was a sleeping bag and some provisions in the back, a few footprints and food wrappers on the ground. Once they cleared the small hole in the canyon, Jasper began snapping photos of the footprints before allowing the others inside.

They processed the scene, Jasper standing back and watching the deputies work with a close eye. She and Luke shared a few glances, neither showing their backs to them or letting them out of the line of sight.

Once they were done, they headed back to the station to meet up with the team and go over ideas. Jasper was quiet the entire way back, her tongue tucked between her teeth as she analyzed the day in her mind. Spencer could tell she had an idea about something, but was waiting until she had enough to go on before sharing.

The remaining five deputies of the department- Sheridan, Lyden, Hockstetter, Jensen, and Polk, the last two having been the ones who accompanied them to the scene- lingered in the bullpen as they met with Sheriff Holcomb. He ushered them back to their desks and brought the team into a small conference room to talk about what they’d found.

“I know my deputies are nervous about all this,” he said, shutting the door firmly behind them. “I don’t wanna worry them more than I have to.”

“When did you move here, Sheriff?” Jasper asked, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. Her feet were firmly planted on the floor shoulder length apart. Spencer recognized this stance, it was her confrontation pose.

“About eight months ago I came here from Santa Vista,” he told her, surprised. “The last sheriff was shot in a standoff with some drug runners. How’d you know?”

“You don’t seem to be worried in the same way your deputies are,” she said. “You got a problem with drugs in this town?”

The rest of the team eyed Jasper, but let her take the lead. Jasper had proven over the last few months that she had an eye for detail, picking up on innocuous clues and context that the rest of them would have normally overlooked. She was like a dog with a bone, and she’d suck the marrow out of a clue until it was finally debunked.

“Since arriving I’ve noticed we’re a bit of a way station for smaller cartels. I’ve been trying to put an end to it, but I think they’re the ones doing this.”

Jasper nodded, then plopped down in one of the seats around the table. She watched the sheriff closely, thinking of what to say next. “What do you know about the deputies that were killed?”

“They were good men, honest men. They served me well and I didn’t have any problems with them,” he offered, feeling disarmed as Jasper’s demeanor softened toward him.

“What about the others? Any infighting?”

“Well, I’m not sure. They tend to discuss their issues privately. I don’t think they’ve got the same rapport with me as they did their last sheriff.”

“We should search the victim’s houses,” Jasper told Emily, who nodded in approval. She turned back to the confused sheriff, slapping on her most charming Louisiana accent and a smile. “I know the deputies already did that when the bodies were found, but I’d like to take our team by, Sheriff, see if we can find anything else.”

“By all means.”

They left the deputies behind, splitting up into three teams to search the homes of the fallen deputies. Jasper, Luke and Spencer went to one, JJ, Emily, and Lewis to another, then Walker, Rossi, and Holcomb to the first victim’s.

Jasper’s investigator mode was something to watch in awe. Her mind raced a million miles a minute, rivaling Spencer’s as she took in all the information of the sights before her. Luke and Spencer went to work searching through books and files, while Jasper sat back and scanned the rooms one by one. She was searching for something specific, something she wasn’t ready to share yet, and they let her do her own thing while they worked.

They were in the master bedroom, looking through a dead man’s personal effects while Jasper stood and watched, hands on her hips. Finally, she moved to the bathroom. She pulled open the cabinet behind the sink, gave a sound of triumph, and began pulling out the contents beneath.

Luke and Spencer joined her in the little bathroom, Jasper pulled herself into the cabinet, and Spencer heard a sliding sound and a thunk. She stuck her hand out behind her, handing them a slice of wood paneling. She pulled herself back out and looked at Luke.

“There’s a stash hole back here.”

“Anything in it?” Luke asked her, crouching down to look into the small cabinet.

“Little bit of white dust,” she told him, then looked up at Spencer. “Whatever was in here was cleared out.”

“Cocaine?” Spencer asked, crouching down as well to take a look. It was a small hole, only two foot by one foot, but it was clear what it’s intended use was for. There had probably been money and guns with the drugs.

Jasper flipped out her phone and dialed a number. “Emily, look for a stash box. I found one here, and it looks like it was used for drugs.”

She called Rossi next, then they went back out to their car to discuss what they’d found. They huddled next to the SUV, as if someone might be listening in.

“I had a bad feeling about this case.”

“You think the deputies are running drugs,” Luke said, crossing his arms and shifting his weight between his feet.

“That last victim looked enough like a cartel victim, but I think whoever did it enjoyed it a little too much.”

“You think the sheriff’s in on it?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t know, drugs aren’t really my area of expertise. I usually find terrorists, not corrupt officials.”

“If they are, why are they killing each other off?” Luke theorized, tapping his chin with a finger. “New sheriff means new standards, new ways of doing things. Maybe the victims wanted to come clean, or stop altogether. Maybe they just got in the way.”

“Drugs usually lead to infighting. If the hierarchy was just these eight guys, it’s entirely possible the structure is falling down. They’re turning on the weaker links.”

They headed back toward the station, and Emily confirmed that they had found stash boxes in each of the victim’s houses. They waited outside while the sheriff went back inside, then shared their theories.

“We’ve seen this before,” Emily said, giving a sad shake of her head. “If the sheriff is innocent, the DOJ will come in and finish the investigation, then set up the station with officers from other counties.”

“How would we even go about it? We don’t really have evidence besides Jasper’s hunch,” Walker asked, giving Jasper an approving glance. “I mean, I think she’s right, but we have to build a case before calling in the Department of Justice.”

“If we question the deputies they’ll just catch on,” JJ said, shuffling her feet in the sand. “Last time this happened it ended in a shootout and Spencer taking a bullet to the neck.”

Jasper’s head shot toward him, “What?”

“I was fine,” Spencer shrugged, trying to dismiss the angry look on her face. “It’s not even the worst injury I’ve had.”

“Well, that’s not the point, is it, Stick?” she asked, giving him a smug look full of ferocity. He just sighed and glared right back at her for using his own rebuttal against him.

“I just got a call,” Sheriff Holcomb gasped as he hustled out of the station. “Deputy Jensen called me in a panic, said he had evidence against Polk and the others. He said they’re the ones who killed the deputies. What do we do?”

“Where are the other deputies now?” Emily asked, whipping out her phone and dialing a number.

“I don’t know, they’re not inside and their cars are gone.”

Emily spoke into the phone quickly, then hung up. “The DOJ is on the way.”

“Who are they sending?” Jasper asked, rubbing her forehead with one hand, the other wrapped tightly around her chest.

“Agent Dryer and his team.”

“Good,” Jasper nodded. “I’ve worked with him before, I can stay behind and wait for them and debrief upon arrival.”

The rest of them jumped into their SUV’s. Jasper waited for them to head down the street, then went back inside, and Spencer’s chest tightened as she disappeared from view.

It took fifteen minutes to follow Holcomb to Jensen’s house. The team fanned out around the property, then headed inside. Spencer followed Luke and Rossi through the back door, immediately splitting up and clearing the little place room by room.

“Clear!” rung out multiple times as they finished.

“Guys,” Walker’s voice came from a bedroom at the front of the house, “I got a body.”

It was Jensen, shot twice in the chest and once in the head. He was sprawled out across his mattress, a look of shock on his young features. He was only in his mid-twenties, and Spencer felt a sense of sorrow for the man, even though he had been involved in something nefarious.

Luke went about searching for a stash box, and quickly found it hidden behind a panel in the hall closet. It had already been cleared out.

Spencer’s phone began ringing, he pulled it out and read the caller ID. Garcia. He turned on the speakerphone as the rest of the team joined him.

“What’s up, Garcia?”

“It’s Jasper! She called me but wouldn’t answer the other line. She was talking to someone and then I heard a gunshot.”

“Garcia, pull up the live footage from the station and send it to our tablets. We’re on our way,” Emily told her, “Any word on DOJ?”

“They’re an hour out.”

Luke turned on his heel and headed straight for the SUV, hardly waiting for the rest of them to pile back inside. Spencer pulled out his tablet from his bag, and tried to hide the gasp in his throat as he laid eyes on Jasper.

Blood was pouring from her nose as she hid behind a desk, her gun held tightly in her hands. He could see Lyden, Polk, and Hockstetter searching for her through the bullpen of the station. Sheridan lay dead on the floor, an obvious headwound right between his eyes.

“We’re fifteen minutes out,” JJ said, “she’s gonna have to survive that long by herself.”

“If anyone can, it’s Jasper,” Luke told the team, but didn’t look too sure.

----------------------------------

Jasper spent twenty minutes waiting for Dryer’s team to arrive. She sat on a desk near the Sheriff's office, fiddling with a stapler for a little bit, then running her fingers through the sand of a zen garden when the door opened.

Polk, Lyden, Hockstetter and Sheridan waltzed in the door without a care in the world. Hockstetter and Lyden fanned out, searching the rooms for any stragglers, but Jasper knew she was alone in the place.

She slipped her phone out of her back pocket as if she were sending a text, and dialed Garcia’s number. She turned off the screen and set it back down on the desk. Jasper played some more with the sand as they lined up in front of the desks, Polk and Sheridan a desk away, the other two a few behind them. Polk was the biggest, and Jasper decided he would be the hardest to take down. He held himself like a Marine, and knew without asking that he was the one who killed the deputies. He had that gleam in his eyes, just like her father used to have, the look of a man who enjoyed hurting others.

“Looks like they left you all alone, little lady,” Polk grinned, leaning against one of the desks, his hand on his holster.

“Looks like,” she agreed. She slid her hand onto her own holster, unbuttoning the clasp and palming her grip.

“You aren’t from around here,” he told her, standing tall and smug as he stared down at Jasper. He had at least a foot and three inches on her, but she wasn’t deterred. “You think you can pull faster than a cowboy?”

“You think you can pull faster than a defenseless little lady?”

Polk’s arm twitched, and Jasper grabbed a handful of the zen garden sand and tossed it in his face with one hand, pulling her gun out with the other. She fired a shot at Sheridan, who dropped like a rock. Polk swung a meaty fist at her, and it connected with her nose. Her head rocked back as tears sprang in her eyes, but she picked up the open stapler and backhanded Polk in the forehead as he spit sand out of his mouth.

He snarled out in fury, sinking to his knees as Jasper dove across the sea of desks. She heard a few shots ring out, and her right side seared in pain as a bullet ripped through her stomach. She held her gun against her chest as she heard them searching for her, trying to ignore the flaring pain in her body as blood poured down her face.

She saw a foot round the corner, and Jasper shot up, shoving her shoulder into the solar plexus of Hockstetter, who barreled backwards across a desk and over the other side. She pointed her gun at Lyden and pulled the trigger twice, satisfied as his body rocked backward and slumped down onto the floor.

She hopped up onto a desk and looked around. Polk was standing up again, his back to the window of the conference room. Jasper took a deep breath, then bolted across the tops of the desks. She tucked her head down and steeled her shoulder for the impact as she hit Polk in the chest as he stood wobbily, her body weight forcing the top of his through the window. He coughed heavily and sank to his knees and Jasper turned her attention back to the rising Hockstetter.

He snarled at her and swung a punch her way. Jasper pulled back, but his fist connected with her gun, knocking it out of her hand and skittering across the linoleum. Jasper rolled, reaching for her gun as Hockstetter’s hand clamped around her ankle. Jasper kicked at him as she stretched her fingers toward the blessed metal. Her finger looped around the trigger and she tugged it toward her. She clasped the grip in her palm and turned back to Hockstetter. His eyes widened as she pulled the trigger, his clutching hand releasing as the bullet tore through his skull.

Jasper took a few deep breaths as she tried to steady herself, but she forgot about Polk.

His big hand wrapped around her throat and lifted her from the floor. Jasper swung the gun toward him but he grabbed her wrist and twisted it hard enough that Jasper heard a snap, then a shock of pain bolted up her arm. Jasper dropped the gun, and Polk kicked it away.

He shook her as he strangled her, Jasper’s uninjured hand clawing at his wrist as her legs kicked out. She had an idea, and walked her feet up the side of his pudgy body, then wrapped her legs around his shoulder. She pressed the sole of her boot against his face as she stretched her body out, trying to tire out his arm as he held her up from the ground.

Polk growled and grunted and Jasper kicked him in the face, but instead of dropping her, he swung his arm down hard, and Jasper’s back connected with the top of a desk. The little breath she had left her body in a huff, and she coughed and gasped in his hold. He swung his arm up and did it again, but this time he released her as her back slammed against the wood. She rolled off the desk and onto her knees, gasping for breath as she tried to crawl away.

She spotted a chunk of the window glass on the floor by Hockstetter’s body, and grasped it tightly in her palm. Blood ran down her left wrist as her right hung limply at her side. It was already purple and swelling but she couldn’t think about that right now.

“You’re already my favorite kill,” Polk grinned at her, his face sweaty and bloody, “and I’m not even done yet.”

“Oh shut up, you giant pussy,” she spat, swaying as she got to her feet. She was bleeding heavily and within five minutes she’d pass out. But there was no way she was going to let this asshole see her die.

Polk’s face turned hard and he lunged for her. Jasper dove between his legs, slicing the inside of his thigh with the shard of glass, hoping to God she cut his femoral artery. She stood up behind him and raised the makeshift blade above her head. She drove it into his spine and twisted, then shoved him away from her.

He turned slowly, lumbering jerkily as he glowered at her. For a moment, Jasper thought she was totally fucked as he tried to walk toward her again, but then his legs buckled beneath him, and the great oaf fell face first onto the linoleum floor.

Jasper sighed in relief, finally bringing her hand up to her side. Blood was pooling down her stomach and into the waistband of her jeans. With her good hand, Jasper tugged her shirt off and pressed it against the wound, wincing as her own legs shook. She backed up and leaned against the wall, scanning the bullpen for signs of life.

The doors to the station burst open as the team rushed in, guns drawn. They looked at her in shock, then laid eyes on the bullpen and its carnage.

“Nice of you all to join the party,” she grunted, and then the floor swayed beneath her as the world went black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Forever Taglist:

@simplyparker,@spencerreidsmommy

17 notes · View notes

wetalkradionetwork · 3 years ago

Text

LBTQ TV Shows and Movies

Representation matters. According to a poll by Gallup, 5.6% of Americans identify as something other than heterosexual. Due to this, queer representation in the media has increased in recent years. Here are 10 movies and TV shows featuring LGBTQ+ characters that you can watch on Netflix and Hulu.

Atypical TV-14

This teen sitcom follows Sam, a teenager with autism, as he navigates high school and dating. Along the way, his sister, Casey, questions her sexuality.

Julie and the Phantoms TV-G

This family musical show is about a teen girl, Julie, dealing with the loss of her mother with the help of three teen ghosts, Luke, Alex, and Reggie. They help reignite her passion for music, and she helps them find their unfinished business. Alex is gay, and was not accepted by his parents before he passed. His friends gave him their unconditional support, which goes with the theme of found family that encompasses the show.

Schitt’s Creek TV-MA

“Suddenly broke, the formerly filthy-rich Rose family is reduced to living in a ramshackle motel in a town they once bought as a joke: Schitt’s Creek (Netflix).” David Rose is queer, and he is still loved and accepted by all. It’s wonderful to see a queer character live through the same struggles the rest of the characters and not struggle because of his sexuality.

The Half of It PG-13

“When smart but cash-strapped teen Ellie Chu agrees to write a love letter for a jock, she doesn’t expect to become his friend - or fall for his crush (Netflix.)” Ellie Chu tried to work out her feelings for her newfound crush while grappling with the question of how to come out to her father.

Sex Education TV-MA

“Insecure Otis has all the answers when it comes to sex advice, thanks to his therapist mom. So rebel Maeve proposes a school sex-therapy clinic (Netflix).” This ensemble comedy follows teenagers as they discover who they are.

Modern Family TV-14

“Today's American families come in all shapes and sizes. The cookie cutter mold of man + wife + 2.5 kids is a thing of the past, as it becomes quickly apparent in the bird's eye view of ABC's half-hour comedy, which takes an honest and often hilarious look at the composition and complexity of modern family life (Hulu).” This family mockumentary comedy includes married couple, Cameron and Mitchell and their adopted daughter Lily.

Love, Simon PG-13

“A closeted gay teen deals with coming out to his family and friends in this charming coming-of-age tale (Hulu).”

Love, Victor TV-14

“Set in the world of the original 2018 film “Love, Simon,” the series follows Victor, a new student at Creekwood High School on his own journey of self-discovery, facing challenges at home, adjusting to a new city, and struggling with his sexual orientation. When it all seems too much, he reaches out to Simon to help him navigate the ups and downs of high school (Hulu).”

The Society TV-MA

This dystopian teen drama is set in a small town with dark happenings. After a smell invades the town, the teens are sent on a camping trip while it is cleaned. However, when they get back, the town is abandoned and they have no way out. While all this is going on, one teen struggles with being the only out gay person in town.

Workin’ Moms TV-MA

“Four very different thirty-something working mother friends try to balance their jobs, family lives, and love lives in modern-day Toronto, Canada (IMDb).” One of the main characters is a lesbian mother who struggles with raising children with her girlfriend that are not biologically hers.

2 notes · View notes

petalbrooke · 5 years ago

Note

How did Maeve and Elliott first meet? (´꒳`)

Guess whoooo wrote a WHOLE LITTLE PIECE for it because I hadn’t thought about that yet and was ~inspired~ it was ME!!! it’s not much but it’s something lol THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME ASK ILY fun fact the formatting is super weird and the read more doesn’t work on mobile so... I apologize for that

Maeve hesitated at the edge of the beach. She had never beento a beach before but had heard stories of the magic within – how mermaids metat the shores to grow their legs, how fae aligned with the moon became markedlystronger when near the salty water. The smell of the ocean – salty, vaguelyfishy – immediately overwhelmed her nostrils. It was nothing like the fresh,clean rivers she was used to, and the grainy sand beneath her feet made heruncomfortable. She felt unsteady and unbalanced, like a single wrong step wouldtwist her ankle. She stepped gingerly forward, wiggling her toes in the sandand pleased at the warmth it gave her. She still preferred the hard-packed dirtand tree cover of home, but this wasn’t half bad.

Immediately she noticed a ramshackle cabin to her left, andshe assumed this had to be where Willy was. She’d met Willy briefly at Gus’tavern, and he had insisted that she come stop by his store and check out hisfishing gear. He was trying to “bring back the old ways of fishing to thevalley”, as he said. She wasn’t entirely sure she was up to the task – shewasn’t patient enough for fishing – but she figured it wouldn’t be bad to checkit out. If nothing else, maybe she could buy some fish from him and add somevariety to her diet, which lately had mostly been parsnips from the farm andburgers from the tavern, a greasy delicacy she’d never had before moving toPelican Town.

The cabin door shook when she knocked on it, sounding like itwas about to give way at any moment. It didn’t seem like a large enough cabinfor a store, but then, it wasn’t a large enough town for him to have muchbusiness. It was reasonable that Willy could run a store out of here. Afterseveral minutes of waiting, she knocked again, more insistent. What kind of a business didn’t have hoursposted outside? she thought. She was just about to leave when the door wasfinally opened by a man who certainly wasn’tWilly.

He blinked blearily at her, confused and apparentlyhalf-asleep judging by his state of dress. His ginger hair was mostly kept tameby its length, but the top and back of his head were frazzled. He hastily beganto button up his shirt.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting company at this hour… or atall today, really.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry for intruding on your morning, I thoughtthat this was Willy’s cabin? He told me to stop by and check out his shop. I’veneve been down to the beach before…” she trailed off and looked the man up anddown, finally realizing who the man was. “You’re Elliott, aren’t you? I didn’tknow you lived down at the beach.”

Elliott chuckled at this, deeply and somehow melodic. “I preferthe solitude of a cabin and the sound of the waves readily accessible. It helpswith my writing.”

Maeve nodded vaguely, distracted as she tried to take in all thedetails of his appearance. Something was offabout him, but she couldn’t place what – his skin had a strange, almost translucenttinge to it, his ears were pointed – not like an elf, but not like a human’s,either. The silence dragged on until Elliott finally swallowed uncomfortableand pointed behind her to the pier.

“You’ll find Willy’s shop down there, and if he isn’t in theshop he’ll be fishing on the dock. Perhaps our paths will cross again soon.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Maeve murmured, turning that direction with avague wave goodbye. Something was wrong, she felt an unusual energy from him,but she couldn’t place it, just that the hairs on the back of her neck wouldn’tsit back down. He wasn’t fae, but he was something. She’d have to be back to investigate.

#sdv oc #sdv elliott #my writing #maeve mood #oc development #everyone is magical in this vague fantasy au but idk what everyone is

6 notes · View notes

cofeechocolates · 6 years ago

Text

Embers amd stars

Chapter-1

Rowan was almost going back to his companions thinking Maeve had somehow set them into a trap when he felt it. It was faint but he could feel it. That tug in his chest. It told him that she was close or closer than he had been for months. So Rowan let out a screech loud enough for the others to hear. Hoping they got the message he was trying to convey. He couldn't waste a single moment. Not when he knew she was so close. He would free his mate out of the evil queen's claws. He couldn't stand a moment more knowing his fireheart was locked in the darkness. With that thought, Rowan pushed the winds faster, faster, towards that tug.

About an hour later, Rowan found himself near Allsbrook facing a ramshackle building in the midst of thick trees. He was a healthy distance away from it and well hidden so that the guards patrolling the surroundings of the building, if it could be called such, would not spot him. It was taking all his self control to not just break in and take his queen out of there but it was necessary he do some observations before he acted, lest he got both of them trapped in there.

As hewas planning an attack, Rowan felt a sharp, phantom pain shoot through his chest. Right below hisheart. Aelin. No, no this couldn't be happening. He barely heard the footstepsbefore there was a hand over his mouth stifling his scream. He didn't care ifhe was caught. Gods damn his plan; he was going to get in there now. It was allhe could do to stop his attack when he heard Gavriel's voice, "Stop," . "Stop, you can't go in therealone you idiot." But Rowan was beyond caring. He wasn't going to sit on hisass while his mate was near death.. Except it was near impossible to escape Gavriel's grip. So, Rowan pretended to relax. Pretended to listen and the moment his grip loosened , Rowan knocked him over and took towards the ruined building he had been looking at. The phantom pain still lingering. His heart beat fast as sprinted not bothering with the sentries placed at the front. He followed the bond, her scent growing stronger with each step he took and throwing off the guard that tried to approach him with his magic. Those he missed with his magic were being dealt with the warrior he had knocked down a few moments ago. Apparently, Gavriel had no intentions of missing this fight.

The place was huge. He needed to go faster. In the time it took to reach the chambers Aelin was being kept in, Rowan fantasized on just how many ways he'd torture Cairn and his queen before he granted them the gift of death.

Rowan nearly slammed into the door. He could hear her scream as he literally ripped open the door in between them. Gavriel was right behind him, breathing just as ragged as his.

He was not prepared for what beheld him when he opened the door. His breathing stopped entirely as he saw his queen, his carranam, his wife, his...Aelin, held back by Cairn. Her back in tatters, with no evidence of there being a tattoo ever or the scars she had previously bore, her eyes glazed with pain. That wasn't even the worst of it. The worst part was in the front. Fenrys, wide eyed, held an iron sword in his hand angled in front of Aelin's chest. Behind him, he could hear Gavriel's curses that echoed exactly what he felt.

Fenrys turned towards them, his eyes pleading. As he no doubt was asking to kill him. Rowan lifted his hand to draw his sword out when, "Look who's finally here. You won't surely kill your former colleague will you now Rowan?", It was Maeve.

Rowan let out a fierce growl turning the now drawn out sword towards Maeve.

" Not so fast. You think you could kill me, do you?"

"Fenrys!"

"No! Don't," and as he screamed those words, he stopped Fenrys's airways. Enough time to knock him unconscious. He tried doing the same with Cairn, but it looked like he had some sort of magic repellent around him.

"Take care of Aelin, I'll take care of her," Gavriel shouted to him.

Rowan went for Cairn's throat but Cairn saw the movement coming and he easily parried it with one hand while Aelin was still in the other. She was loosing blood. Too much blood. His nostrils were filled with the scent of it. It was the thought alone of all the pain she must be enduring, that made him see red and leash all his magic on the two people he hated more than anything.

The entire room went cold immediately while both Cairn and Maeve were covered in ice. But Rowan couldn't spare a lookat them. He went to Aelin where she was falling down from being released by Cairn's grip and caught her before she could hit the ice. Gods, there was so much blood loss.

"Aelin, Aelin..." he kept repeating her name like a mantra. Not quite believing she was with him. He set her down in his laps healing her wounds with the remnants of magic left in him. It wasn't enough though. Damn, he wasn't sure he could heal her even if his magic was at his fullest.

Rowan immediately stiffened at the sounds of footsteps but it was just Gavriel. He growled at the sight of the male near his mate.

Gavriel, to his credit, only calmly said, "Let me help her. Rowan you just spent all of your magic. Let me heal her."

His only sign of acceptance was a tiny nod and Gavriel worked on her. Using battlefield healing to roughly patch up the gaping wounds. When he was finally done he said," Let's get out of here, it'll only be a matter of minutes now before Maeve breaks the ice or her soldiers come for us."

Right. There were already cracks forming at the bottom of Maeve's feet. He fixed that with half a thought but anymore longer spent here, and he knew they wouldn't survive especially not with their magic emptied out. He'd almost forgotten about Fenrys until he heard the laboured breaths.

"You help Fenrys and I'll get Aelin", he said. Gavriel nodded, helping Fenrys onto his feet.

"We'll go first to help clear the guards", Gavriel said.

It was Rowan's turn to nod. They had barely gotten past the doorway when Rowan scooped Aelin into his arms and put a step forward and Rowan heard the ice crack behind him. The next thing Rowan knew was black.

21 notes · View notes