I am quiet the next morning-- more so than usual-- as we ride through the forests, ever northward. After an hour or so of my silence and one-word answers when asked a question, Daniel finally drops back to ride beside me.
"You are not alright." He says, trying to catch my gaze. It's a statement today, not a question. I shake my head in reply. The paladin hesitates, weighing his next words carefully.
"If I may ask... how did Amyry know you?"
No, you may not ask.
Yes, I will answer. Unwillingly. And only because I trust Daniel. Somewhat.
He's still trying to get me to look at him, but I turn my head even farther away.
"I was sent to assassinate him." I murmur quietly, studying the trees around us. "I-- it went... horribly wrong. I was caught. He... tried to violate my honor. He made me filthy even as he didn't completely succeed in his intent. When I... fled, he tried to kill me. I very nearly died." I reach one hand up and back, fingering the scar. "I barely made it home in time. My-- I was saved, but Amyry--. I have always been in fear of him since."
I cannot look at Daniel at all now. A shame I had kept buried for so long now surfaces, bringing with it old nightmares. The paladin doesn't speak. I duck my head with a tear-choked sigh, fearing to see in his eyes the condemnation I know is there.
Daniel's hand lands on my back, low, over where my own hand is softly rubbing my scar. He gently pushes my fingers aside and traces the length of the terrible, now-healed wound. It's a large scar; I know he can feel it easily even through the leather of my jerkin.
His other hand comes up and softly grasps my chin, turning my face toward him. I close my eyes and swallow hard. Our horses are halted now, and so close together I can feel Daniel's leg pressing against my own.
"Look at me, Avalon." He says softly. I hate myself for the tears that escape down my cheeks as I open my eyes. I am instantly held captive by his sea-blue gaze.
There is no condemnation there. No anger; at least, not directed at me. No pity, even.
There is only kindness. Only compassion. Only a desire to ease my hurt.
I forget to breathe for a moment in the face of his love for a broken soul. Then I close my eyes again. I cannot look him in the eyes. Not, and see that. I know what I deserve. It's not his kindness.
I should hate him for it, and I can't. What is happening to me?
I try to turn my head away, but Daniel's gentle hand on my chin holds me fast.
"Look at me." He says again. And I do. His hand still gently rubbing my back, he says,
"His actions were not yours. You bear no guilt there. While murder is wrong, you didn't actually succeed. There is no guilt on that count either." He pauses.
"Did you kill Amyry yesterday?" He asks.
"No." I whisper. He gives me a faint smile.
"I didn't think you did. Nevertheless, Avalon, he's dead now. He cannot hurt you again. Understand?"
He's so close to me now, and I can hardly stand in the face of his kindness. An unknown feeling wells up in me. It's frightening and joyful all at once, filling me with a shivery feeling I cannot comprehend.
"I understand." I whisper. And I do. I calm.
Daniel calms me.
This is so... I can't...
He pulls me into his strong embrace, and I clasp him tightly, laying my head on his shoulder.
What. Is. Happening.
I feel Fal's inquisitiveness as he feels my conflicting and turbulent emotions. I ignore him. I will enjoy this while I can.
Daniel finally pulls away, when we lock gazes again, there is something in his sea-blue eyes that ignites the shivery feeling again.
But seriousness quickly clouds his features.
"I mean to make our destination North Keep." He tells me. I lower my gaze, slamming iron bars back around my heart.
"I cannot join you there." I reply.
"I know." He says. "Do you have someplace to stay while we are apart?"
I nod. His next question:
"Would you be willing to tell what you know of D'Adrian, now?"
I take a deep breath and give him vague details. Eliana and Antony ride up to us, and I realize that we have been still for too long. It almost makes me laugh. Raeldon waits for us a ways up the road.
"Is everything alright?" Eliana asks, as she and Antony give Daniel and me shrewd looks. Daniel smiles, answers,
"Yes, now. Ava cannot join us in the north."
"Dost thou have a place to stay?" Antony turns to me. I smile reassuringly as my deceptions kick me in the gut.
"Yes." I answer. "I will be quite well until you all are done treating with D'Adrian. I should leave now."
"Now?" Daniel asks, startled. I nod.
"It's for the best, really. I shouldn't get too close to D'Adrian's lands lest I end up shot. I'll meet you in Ciliren."
Ciliren is a three days' ride southeast of my brother's claimed borders.
Daniel stares at me for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze. Then he nods and swings down from the saddle and steps up beside my horse. Offers me his hands.
I accept his assistance, and his hands clasp me around my slim waist. His strong arms lift me down from the saddle. My feet touch the ground, but he doesn't let go. Just continues to gaze at me with those blue, blue eyes of his. Letting me know he sees me.
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I suppress a shiver as I wonder just how much of me he sees. How much of my darkness. How much of my deception.
"Be safe." He says softly, releasing me at last.
"I will." I reply, both of us knowing that that's a complete lie. I turn away and am folded into the embrace of Eliana.
"Take care." She whispers as she hugs me warmly.
That I can do.
Momentarily surprised, I quickly return her embrace.
"You too." I reply. Antony is next, smiling sheepishly as he forgoes his usual withdrawn elvish ways.
His embrace is brief, but no less caring.
"I will teach thee knots when next we meet." He tells me. I incline my head to him.
"I will be looking forward to it." I answer. Then I turn back to Daniel. He's holding the reins of both his horse and mine.
"Farewell." He says, lifting a hand as if to touch my cheek. But he lets it drop just before he touches me. I lay my hand on his arm, hoping against hope that, when I see him next, it is not to kill him.
"Goodbye." I reply softly. Then I retrieve my slate marble from my pocket and whisper the word "Home". My friends fade to misty white.
A few seconds later, I am standing in my brother's night-dark bedroom. He's sitting in an armchair, reading a book by candlelight. When he sees me, he yelps in surprise. Springs up and crushes me in an embrace.
"I was beginning to despair of you ever coming home." He says into my hair. He's brimming with joy, and a little bit of concern. Falkirk pushes me back from him, hands on my upper ams.
"Are you alright?" He asks, unable to make sense of what he's feeling through the twin bond. I take a long, slow breath in. Give him a faint smile.
"I don't know." I say. "Something's changing. I--."
Fal's face grows concerned.
"Changing for better or for worse?" He asks. I think for a moment.
"For better. I think." I reply. He searches my face.
"You are still with me, yes?" He queries. I hear a note of anxiety in his voice, feel it through our bond. I clasp his arms, smile wider.
"Always." I answer. "Why do you even ask that? I'm never going to be against you, Fal. This fight requires both of us, and I will be with you to the end, stand or fall. Live or die. I'm never leaving you, Falkirk."
He sighs in relief, drawing back into a hug.
"I'm such a fool to doubt you." He says to the ceiling. I chuckle.
"You are. A loved fool, but a fool nonetheless."
He laughs; it rumbles in his chest. I breathe in his smoky scent.
"It's good to be home, brother." I whisper. He holds me tighter.
"Stay, Blackbird. Please."
"I will." I tell him, stepping away. "For a while. But I still have that mission you gave me."
He fidgets for a moment, looking away.
"What?" I ask, my heart sinking in me. Fal looks up, sensing my falling emotions. Hastens to reassure me, not that his next words help any.
"I, um... I actually do have another mission for you." He says sheepishly. "A side-quest, if you will."
I sigh, crossing my arms.
"What is it?" I ask. Fal's emotions surge and ebb, as if he's trying to stuff something down. I know the feeling. I give him time as he sobers. He finally says,
"I need a confirmed kill, Ava. Nothing less."
"Who?" I ask, dreading the answer as Falkirk's emotions spike in grief, betrayal, and distaste.
"Thasron." He says finally, clasping his hands behind his back. I flinch.
Thasron is-- was-- mine and Falkirk's old mentor back when we ran with the assassins' guild. Fal has let Thasron alone because of old ties. Until now. For my brother to issue a kill order regarding Thasron, our mentor must have made a move against us that Fal cannot ignore.
My heart sinks, but I do not question my brother.
"Very well." I whisper. "You'll have your confirmation by nightfall tomorrow." Fal gives a nod, face blank, then turns away to gaze at his curtained window. But he cannot hide his true feelings from me. He is weeping inside. I steal softly up to him and lay my hand on his shoulder. His hand comes up to cover mine, and we stand like that for a long while. Finally, I tug my brother away from the window that he can't even see out of right now.
"Fal, rest." I say. "Sleep. Problems are better handled in tomorrow's sunshine." He allows me to tuck him in bed. I blow out the candles before slipping silently out of my brother's apartments. Seeking my own rooms, I spend the better part of the night, preparing for tomorrow's task, and playing my guitar. The music calms me, and, in the wee, wee hours of the morning, I am able to drift off into a troubled sleep.
That night, I dream of death. Others' and... my own. In violent, messy ways. Decapitation. Hanging. Impalement. Firing squad. You name it, it was there.
I wake late morning, seek breakfast, give Fal a quick goodbye kiss on his brow, then teleport away using my slate stone.
I emerge in the assassin guild's old headquarters. According to my brother, Thasron still resides here. I make my way to my mentor's old rooms, encountering no one on the way. The building is dark and deathly silent. I wonder briefly where everybody has gone.
The door to Thasron's rooms isn't even locked. I twist the latch and slip inside. It's dim in here, lit only by a smoky fire in the hearth. An older man dressed in black leather sits at a desk, his back to me. He's writing busily. I can hear his quill scratching the paper, see the feather sway up and down with movement of his hand.
I step silently to the middle of the room and stand there, waiting. The quill stills. Thasron lifts his head.
"Avalon." He says, his voice low and deep. Rich as chocolate, just the way I remember it. "Little wolf."
"Lone Wolf, now." I reply quietly, my stomach clenching. I will my emotions down.
"Ah, yes," he turns and gazes at me, soft sorrow in his one eye. His other eye is covered by a black leather patch. "That is what they call you now, those who do not know who you truly are."
I incline my head to him.
"It is the way it must be." I say. "Lone Wolf is not as well known as you think, Thas."
He smiles sadly. "I suppose you are here to kill me?"
"I don't want to, Thas." I answer, not moving. "But Falkirk has decreed, and so I must do."
"Must?" He queries, raising his eyebrow. I lift my chin.
"Will do. Always. Whatever Falkirk says."
"And, how is your brother these days?" Thasron asks. I sigh.
"Burdened. I do all I can. It's never enough. I am away too often."
Thas says nothing to this. I nod to the paper on his desk.
"A letter?" I ask. Thas sighs.
"Indeed. To you two D'Adrian twins."
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He continues,
"I knew my death was coming soon, little wolf. I made my move against Falkirk, sided with the Clan lords. I knew Fal would order my death. I am too dangerous to him. This letter was my last gift to you two."
I swallow around a lump in my throat. Thas regards me, his eye glittering in the dancing firelight.
"Will you permit me to finish it?" He asks. I nod mutedly. I am not about to deny my mentor his last wishes. He resumes writing, and I wait patiently.
"Where is everyone?" I ask as he works.
"Dead. Gone." He answers distractedly. I blink in surprise, but ask no further questions.
He is finished scribing way too soon. Thas sets down his quill, looks up at me. Are-- are those tears glittering in his eye?
Are those tears pooling in mine? I blink quickly, tell myself I am dry-eyed.
I draw my mage-blade and step close. Thas holds up a hand, and I halt.
"Do you wish to share a last drink before I die?" Thas asks. Again, I nod, and he rises. Goes over to a tall cabinet in the corner of the room. Opens it and retrieves a bottle of wine. He pours two small glasses of the amber liquid and hands one to me. Thasron gives a little smile and chuckles as I inspect it for poison.
"Don't worry, little wolf. It is safe." He says. I trust him. We clink glasses and drink deeply.
Then he turns away and sets his glass on the desk. Uncaps the bottle and pours us both another round as I set my glass beside his. He picks his up, holds it to his lips.
Thas takes a shaky breath. "I believe I am ready now, little wolf."
Without a word, I step up behind him and set my blade high against his ribs. He stiffens.
One quick thrust into the heart, and it's over. He jerks as my blade slides in. His glass slips from his hand and falls to the floor, splashing wine everywhere. He crumples into my arms, dead. I lower him to the floor, close his eye. Then I clean off my mage-blade. Re-sheathe it. Stare at the body of my mentor, at the pool of blood mixing with scattered wine. I am cold inside. This feels... all sorts of wrong. I cannot-- I can't--
I pick up my glass and drain it.
Then I tuck Thas's letter into my jerkin and teleport home.
Fal is waiting for me, his face drawn and resigned.
"It is done." I say quietly.
"Truly?" He asks just to make sure.
I take a deep, steadying breath, look him straight in the eye.
"Thasron is no more, Falkirk. I did what I had to do. I am not proud of it." I reach inside of my jerkin and retrieve my mentor's letter. Offer it to Fal.
"Here. He wrote this for us. I haven't read it yet." I say. Fal slowly takes it, opens its folds, reads it.
Then he weeps.