[Wild Roses] Trickwood Unification
Title: rocks fall
'Verse/characters: Trickwood Unification; Hernén, the baroness
Prompt: 36A "distance"
Word Count: 1045
Notes: This is the current end and resting point of this sequence. dormouse_in_tea, some time ago, gave me the sparks 'rainbows as signs of doom', and 'a cloud of swirling birds'; I finally used 'em both. :)
Unsurprisingly, someone dies in this one. Take that as a warning if you need it.
box trap
promises and plans
*snap!*
command decisions
overture, rebuffed
untitled addition
He stepped down from the hillside, arrived on the dock of the baroness' harbour with a shower of dirt, a nervous werewolf, and a higher-pitched wail of wind as the first of the roof's anchor stones shifted.
Ripping the top off a fortified keep off took a while, especially when he wasn't just letting the stones fall as they would. That Winter-kissed nest they'd been trying to deal with for the last month could stand to have a few rocks dropped on it, so he was tossing the keep's stones as they lifted into the air, aided by every drop of furious intent he could muster, and letting them fall from a height onto a hillside more than a day's riding away.
He was going to have such a headache later.
Ettore was dancing nervously behind him, obviously torn between diving for cover and standing his ground. It was enormously distracting, and Hernén spared a wish for Belladonna, who would stand still, wait for her time, and then ground herself on something with a massive spark. He had a private bet going that one day she'd set something on fire doing that.
"Stop that," he managed with an effort, as the last of the smaller stones flew, and disappeared. "'s distracting."
The scraping stopped instantly, and he smiled a little. Ettore was easy to work with, too, even if he wasn't Belladonna.
Looking up at the keep, he decided to stop, for the moment. The entire top section was gone, sheared off at the level where stone and mortar gave way to stone and wood, and if he was going to take the Winter-kissed thing all the way apart he needed a massive meal and maybe Arianhrod's help. Some of those stones were nearly riverboat sized.
So he let the wind die, walked forward off the dock onto land, trailed by the wolf, who changed to two feet as Hernén's boots touched dirt.
The doors of the keep ripped off at their hinges with a look and a gesture, and Ettore instinctively flinched as the wood crashed onto the main hall's floor.
Where had Ruadhan said the sturdiest--ah, right. Secondary armoury, down a small flight of stone steps and carefully sealed against water seeping in. He walked into the keep, looking around to see how much the baroness had managed to rebuild of her stores, after Ruadhan left.
More than he'd really expected, based on the way she'd behaved when they were still trying negotiation. Evidently necessity sweetened the baroness' voice.
He didn't bother knocking at the armoury's door, just kicked at the bottom section of the right-hand one, hard enough that he heard metal shriek on the other side. Good--right area for the hinge, then. He kicked again, slightly lower, and the door tried to fall on him as the hinges gave.
He caught it, pretending to a sort of casualness he didn't feel, and tossed it aside, stepped into the armoury.
The baroness was pressed back into the farthest, deepest corner, her hair a cloud of tangles and her breathing fast as a hunted deer. There were a couple of guns in the armoury, he noted, but if she was holding one it was well hidden.
He stretched a hand out towards her, crooked a finger, and terror or magery pulled her a step forward, out of her corner, and she fell to her knees, crying.
"Please, no," she said, and he didn't need to look to know that Ettore had bared his teeth in a furious, soundless snarl.
"How many?" he asked.
"What?"
"How many wolves did you have killed, thinking they might be allied with me, as you supposedly were?"
"I--I don't--" her voice cut off as he gestured again, lifted her up by her throat with an invisible hand.
"How many?" he asked again, and something in her face crumbled when he added "How many children have you killed to try to gain back the power we took from you, when you would have had it again, and more, if you'd abided by the words you swore?"
"F-five?" she said, when he let her speak again, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Ettore shake his head.
"Fifteen," the wolf corrected. "Some might have been accidents of place and timing--we do not look safe, after all--but not all."
"We would have given you power, Sidonie," Hernén told her, and she jerked in his grip, the last of her titles stripped from her and not even the 'lady' politeness suggested. "Even though you killed his son, and tried to kill me. If you'd kept your word, turned your guns to our defense and our causes, you would have stood to gain so much more than you had a year ago."
He gave her a moment to let that sink in, then stepped close, put his hand over the knot of power tied around her throat. "Instead you've earned a liar's death, and an oath breaker's grave."
And he broke her neck.
Then he paused to stop himself from being sick on the cobblestones.
"That's not your first," Ettore said, his tone more than a little disbelieving. "I've seen you kill."
Hernén looked up, eyed the wolf for a moment, until the packleader dropped his eyes, looked a little away. Taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, "This is the first time it's been cold, 'Tore. Where I decided, sitting down and thinking about it, that someone needed to die, and then I went and killed her. Forgive me if it takes me a moment afterwards."
"You going to burn her?" Ettore asked, not quite derisive but circling close to it.
"No," he replied, "I'm going to drop her corpse in the middle of what remains of that manticore nest, right next to the stones I've dropped already, and leave her to the scavengers she imitated."
The wolf blinked. Hernén gave him a thin smile. "She'd have done the same to me, given chance and power. Unless you wanted to maul the body a bit?"
"No," Ettore said slowly, "I think the terror on her face was enough, and I can tell Sacha truth when I say she's paid for what she did."
'Verse/characters: Trickwood Unification; Hernén, the baroness
Prompt: 36A "distance"
Word Count: 1045
Notes: This is the current end and resting point of this sequence. dormouse_in_tea, some time ago, gave me the sparks 'rainbows as signs of doom', and 'a cloud of swirling birds'; I finally used 'em both. :)
Unsurprisingly, someone dies in this one. Take that as a warning if you need it.
box trap
promises and plans
*snap!*
command decisions
overture, rebuffed
untitled addition
He stepped down from the hillside, arrived on the dock of the baroness' harbour with a shower of dirt, a nervous werewolf, and a higher-pitched wail of wind as the first of the roof's anchor stones shifted.
Ripping the top off a fortified keep off took a while, especially when he wasn't just letting the stones fall as they would. That Winter-kissed nest they'd been trying to deal with for the last month could stand to have a few rocks dropped on it, so he was tossing the keep's stones as they lifted into the air, aided by every drop of furious intent he could muster, and letting them fall from a height onto a hillside more than a day's riding away.
He was going to have such a headache later.
Ettore was dancing nervously behind him, obviously torn between diving for cover and standing his ground. It was enormously distracting, and Hernén spared a wish for Belladonna, who would stand still, wait for her time, and then ground herself on something with a massive spark. He had a private bet going that one day she'd set something on fire doing that.
"Stop that," he managed with an effort, as the last of the smaller stones flew, and disappeared. "'s distracting."
The scraping stopped instantly, and he smiled a little. Ettore was easy to work with, too, even if he wasn't Belladonna.
Looking up at the keep, he decided to stop, for the moment. The entire top section was gone, sheared off at the level where stone and mortar gave way to stone and wood, and if he was going to take the Winter-kissed thing all the way apart he needed a massive meal and maybe Arianhrod's help. Some of those stones were nearly riverboat sized.
So he let the wind die, walked forward off the dock onto land, trailed by the wolf, who changed to two feet as Hernén's boots touched dirt.
The doors of the keep ripped off at their hinges with a look and a gesture, and Ettore instinctively flinched as the wood crashed onto the main hall's floor.
Where had Ruadhan said the sturdiest--ah, right. Secondary armoury, down a small flight of stone steps and carefully sealed against water seeping in. He walked into the keep, looking around to see how much the baroness had managed to rebuild of her stores, after Ruadhan left.
More than he'd really expected, based on the way she'd behaved when they were still trying negotiation. Evidently necessity sweetened the baroness' voice.
He didn't bother knocking at the armoury's door, just kicked at the bottom section of the right-hand one, hard enough that he heard metal shriek on the other side. Good--right area for the hinge, then. He kicked again, slightly lower, and the door tried to fall on him as the hinges gave.
He caught it, pretending to a sort of casualness he didn't feel, and tossed it aside, stepped into the armoury.
The baroness was pressed back into the farthest, deepest corner, her hair a cloud of tangles and her breathing fast as a hunted deer. There were a couple of guns in the armoury, he noted, but if she was holding one it was well hidden.
He stretched a hand out towards her, crooked a finger, and terror or magery pulled her a step forward, out of her corner, and she fell to her knees, crying.
"Please, no," she said, and he didn't need to look to know that Ettore had bared his teeth in a furious, soundless snarl.
"How many?" he asked.
"What?"
"How many wolves did you have killed, thinking they might be allied with me, as you supposedly were?"
"I--I don't--" her voice cut off as he gestured again, lifted her up by her throat with an invisible hand.
"How many?" he asked again, and something in her face crumbled when he added "How many children have you killed to try to gain back the power we took from you, when you would have had it again, and more, if you'd abided by the words you swore?"
"F-five?" she said, when he let her speak again, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Ettore shake his head.
"Fifteen," the wolf corrected. "Some might have been accidents of place and timing--we do not look safe, after all--but not all."
"We would have given you power, Sidonie," Hernén told her, and she jerked in his grip, the last of her titles stripped from her and not even the 'lady' politeness suggested. "Even though you killed his son, and tried to kill me. If you'd kept your word, turned your guns to our defense and our causes, you would have stood to gain so much more than you had a year ago."
He gave her a moment to let that sink in, then stepped close, put his hand over the knot of power tied around her throat. "Instead you've earned a liar's death, and an oath breaker's grave."
And he broke her neck.
Then he paused to stop himself from being sick on the cobblestones.
"That's not your first," Ettore said, his tone more than a little disbelieving. "I've seen you kill."
Hernén looked up, eyed the wolf for a moment, until the packleader dropped his eyes, looked a little away. Taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, "This is the first time it's been cold, 'Tore. Where I decided, sitting down and thinking about it, that someone needed to die, and then I went and killed her. Forgive me if it takes me a moment afterwards."
"You going to burn her?" Ettore asked, not quite derisive but circling close to it.
"No," he replied, "I'm going to drop her corpse in the middle of what remains of that manticore nest, right next to the stones I've dropped already, and leave her to the scavengers she imitated."
The wolf blinked. Hernén gave him a thin smile. "She'd have done the same to me, given chance and power. Unless you wanted to maul the body a bit?"
"No," Ettore said slowly, "I think the terror on her face was enough, and I can tell Sacha truth when I say she's paid for what she did."