Her World Entirely Shattered and Remade

[Stare]

Set right after The Disappearance of Lady Heysan

Day one.

Into the early hours she lay still, curled up in that tight, foetal position where no one could mistake her emotional state. All she wanted was to forget, but the burns of the memories wrecked her mind. Many, many hours before had she rid her body of tears. Now she lay in a state of silence and depression, heart heavy and slowly beating to the rhythm of a non-existent but still noisesome drum. The same one that filled her head and told her:

“He's in love with you. He was always in love with you.”

Feverishly she grabbed as many cushions as she could and piled them around her. She buried herself into them, feeling like she was more in a nest than anything and that felt good. A nest was what she watched born in, and a nest was where she was determined to hide in right now. Her space of safety, her realm of security. They were behind and surrounding her by the time he walked in again.

He said nothing, only paused before walking quietly over to an armchair. She heard the sound of springs, and the shuffling of paper. There was just the briefest moment of silence before he began to write, the faint scratching of pencil alive.

Stare curled tighter, huffing into her pillows, and neither of them spoke.

It passed for at least an hour. Then there was the sudden thud of a door and then a grunt as someone failed to open it. A pause, and there was another thud, causing Stare to seize somewhat from the suddenness of the sound. She began to sit up to look at the door, when a sigh came from across the room. Then there was a quiet click and she froze, partially out of her lying position, a cushion nudging out of the way. The door was just within her sights now and she saw it hesitantly open and a face appear - of Zulon.

The door had been locked?

“Yes?” came the low voice from behind her.

Zulon’s eyes flickered to hers, then somewhere beyond her shoulder. There was no way she was going to turn around, and so she ducked back down, grabbing the cushion from behind her and saving it from falling.

“Ah … Sir … Miss, food is ready.”

“Bring it in here, Zulon,” Vitruvion said, “if you will.”

“Of course, sir,” he commented, then paused. “Is - will the door be locked again?”

“The door was locked to not allow in unnecessary company, Zulon, but no. It will not be on your return.”

“Very good sir,” and there was the sound of a closing door.

Stare buried herself back under the cushions, pulling one right over her head and tightened her jaw. Firmly she closed her eyes, as if seeing anything anymore would cause her immense pain. At least Vitruvion was not locking the door to keep her in, though she would not be surprised if that was a secondary purpose.

“Stare,” came a quiet, cautious voice, “you must eat when the food comes.”

He was addressing her directly now. She wrapped her arms closer around her, making a small noise of discontent. Her stomach was truly empty, but eating was not something she really wanted to do right now. Not just because he was in the room, but because starving right now was a much more attractive option.

“Please,” he sighed.

“Not hungry,” she whispered. “Don’t want to. Not hungry.”

“Then at least drink, my dear, please.”

And ‘my dear’ was not said with any harshness, any sarcasm like he had many times. There was no brutal meaning behind it, but rather a depth of care of actual tenderness. SHe had no doubt of its genuine regard for her, because she could feel the very emotions through the tone, and for a moment she softened, knowing that he was just wanting her good health and wellbeing.

“Vitruvion, I cannot eat right now,” she replied in a louder voice, “please do not ask me again.”

He made no sound, and did not ask her again that day.

[Stare]

Day two.

It started much like the first. Stare had to move a couple of times, stretching her legs to avoid cramp, twist and move. At one point she twisted right the way around and found herself to looking right at where he was examining a book intently, lips pursed and brow low. For a long moment she stared at the man who had ruined her life, and was even now keeping her captive, even if it was for her safety. After a few seconds he paused, his attention wavering from the book, and focusing on the room, as he clearly grew conscious of her gaze. Tensing he drew in his breath, and paused before slowly lifting his eyes to look right back at her.

She held his eye contact for only a moment before switching to look emptily into the middle of the room, and he let out a discontented sigh, but that made her more satisfied. Let him be dissatisfied with how she was treating him, and treating herself. He more than deserved it for what he had put her through - god or no god. Right now, she did not care about his divinity, or the fact that they were undeniably linked. This was her misery, her sorrow and he could darn well deal with it if he wanted her around that much.

Zulon came in again with food, bringing it straight in wordlessly, though knocking first this time. Stare saw there were two plates, each as equally fine as the last with no difference aside from one was slightly larger. As Vitruvion set his books aside to move towards it he threw a glance towards her, but she made no move to get up.

“You will make yourself ill,” was his only comment as he reached for cutlery.

But she did not reply. Instead there was awkwardness in the room as Zulon remained standing, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“What?” Vitruvion growled, leaning back in his chair, alongside the food, “if you are asking if she is going to eat today, then I can give you no answer.”

“Ah … ah no sir,” Zulon spoke delicately, “no this is about … about outside. A note came today from the mansion asking if Miss Stare was going to return at all. It said something about it being ‘Tuesday tomorrow’ and the ‘accounts’ needing to be done?”

“Reply that Mer can handle all duties that Stare does,” Vitruvion spoke quickly, “inform them that Stare is ill, and it is unknown when she will be back to her duties.”

Well. At least she had an excuse for not attending any of her meetings. Most definitely she was not in the mood to go back to work. Yes, she had dealt with harsh realities before, such as the whole being immortal thing, but that had mostly been anger, and she could do practical things with anger. This was … well, giving up mostly. The final straw in her mental state, that had sent her into this pit of despair where there was little desire to move or even live right now.

Vitruvion’s gaze snapped up. He sucked in his breath as he stared at her, alarmed. Zulon paused, looking confused for a moment, but then understood. Realising it was likely time to go he backed out quickly, giving a quick bow of the head to the room before leaving. It was then that Vitruvion pushed his food to the side, shoving the plate onto the table and started rapidly advancing towards her, concern written deep on his face.

Quickly, Stare pulled herself tighter, curling back into her foetal position, wings folded tightly against her back. Clearly he had been in her mind at that time, not distracted by his food, and now she regretted even thinking it, but it had slipped by her consciousness. Making a small whining sound she buried her face onto her arms and whispered.

“I am not going to, Vitruvion. It would only cause me unnecessary pain, I would have to come back anyway and-”

A very light touch met her head, and she broke off. As she did she felt it pause, and the touch become nothing more than that - a hesitation on the edge of contact. It drew back though, and she opened one eye to peer up to see him standing over her, distress clear on his face - a far cry from the proud, cruel man she had known when first coming here. He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his skin.

“Don’t - don’t do that, Stare. I am not being trivial, if you have those … types of feelings, then I cannot let you avoid the discussion, because it is highly a serious topic of conversation that needs to be undertaken, no matter what your angst and issues with me. Indeed, I may be-”

“I won’t, okay,” she interrupted him, her voice softer again. And slightly, she shook her head as she uttered a sigh. “I promise I won’t.”

And she had never broken one of her promises to him. They were rare and unusual, but each was formed out of sincerity, similar to his own. Vitruvion had orders and commands - but then he also had his promises to her. Both of their uncertainties met in that battlefield of discussed and matters were settled. With this very different way that he was treating her currently Stare imagined that they would be more common in the days to come.

He left her side and moved back to his seat after five more minutes of standing, watching her. Eventually she relaxed out of her tensed roll and lay flat, wings beneath her, sighing out to the world. Though she did not eat still, he seemed more comfortable that day.

[Stare]

Day three.

The day itself passed in silence and very little of anything.

That night, however ... her thirst got the better of her.

Water had been placed for her in plentiful reach. When the pain of her throat grew too vast she growled deeply, and reached out to snatch a bottle up. Dragging her weary body into a sitting position she slumped in the darkness and drowned her throat in needful liquid, making her body scream as it did. An uncontrollable and uncomfortable headache that she had been dealing with began to ebb, allowing her to breathe freer and stretch somewhat. Indeed, it still was not the full sustenance her body entirely desired - after all, her stomach still lay empty - but, it was still something needed. Once she had finished that bottle she laid the glass to the side and took up another, savouring each drop and letting the satisfaction run through her systems.

Sighing contentedly she fell back against the cushions. Her eyes slid closed as she stayed upright, clawed hand still curled around the neck of the second bottle and her back now resting against the back of the chair. Steadily she breathed as her systems rejoiced in the much needed life source and began to get back to work.

In that itself, a problem arose.

It was the dead of night, and she knew that the door leading beyond to the other rooms was locked. Guards could be there, waiting but it was also possible that they were not. From what also the last few times Zulon had come in and delivered messages or food, it had been Vitruvion's prerogative to unlock the door. That highly meant that only his magic could work it, and that meant her only real choice of bathroom was …

Through the bedroom door. Right where Vitruvion slept.

Peeing into a bottle was both disgusting and beneath her - she was not that kind of being to do so, even considering the mental state she was in. Darkly, she cursed, swearing in thick kenku tongue and grinding hands into her fists. She did not know the time, but hells be it she was not going to wander straight away now. There was a chance morning was coming and soon he would rise from his bed and she could dart in, not having to see him for more than a few minutes. Damn, maybe she could even have a bath.

Odd as it was, even in the mindset she was in, the latter sounded marvellously attractive. And as the minutes slipped by, and her bladder refused to budge it's heaviness she clung to the idea of a long, deep soak in warm water with more and more fervour. Gradually her hammering heart began to slow, her breathing became more regular and she - she actually felt okay for once.

For once. She savoured the moment deeply, letting it warm her form and wrap her in a thousand pleasant memories. Of when she was young, and her family was happy, even though they were outcasts. Of how she had been friends with thieves and murderers, but still terribly safe. Of how she had come to Beinost to have a new life after her whole family had passed and met Skra, that dwarf baker. And then Raevin himself had found her and her entire world had changed …

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Distractions were not working. Her bladder was still pregnant and crying for release. She did not think it was possible without will but it was in danger of spilling itself and now she had been here for possibly an hour, dreaming of baths full of -

Water.

She stoppered the bottle finally, and pushed it to the side. Her eyes moved over to the door to the door leading to the rest of the apartments. Surely there would be someone, possibly. Or there was a chance it could be unlocked.

Determination gathering within her she slipped herself as quietly as she could off the couch, and immediately regretted it. Two long days of doing nothing but lying did not help. That and a need for the toilet. Cursing she grabbed the sofa as it got worse, and her wings flapped as they tried to keep her steady, but they were weakened also. She began to drag her sorry and ruined body towards the door. There were violent sounds as her claws scraped along the ground and she ended up groaning because of the pain. It was her own stupid fault, she knew, because she had refused to eat or drink, and this now was her suffering. With a great amount of difficulty she got to the door, and slammed a hand hard down on the handle. Unsurprisingly, it did not budge and only bounced back into her palm unhelpfully.

And agonisingly; a moan of irritation erupted from her beak and several dark curses as she gave up caring. For anything.

Sliding down the door she knew it was only moments before he came - it was inevitable. Extremely weak and shaking she was at a state where she now knew food was her only option. She garbled in kenku how much of an idiot she was as she tipped her head back and laid it against the door, waiting.

The sound of hurried footsteps followed, as well as the soft shifting sounds of the bedroom door opened. No words came out, but strong arms began to wrap themselves around her as she garbled a simple sentence.

“I need to piss.”

[Stare]

Day four.

Certainly, this day was easier.

Having given in to the base needs of her body, Stare finally ate, much to the immense satisfaction of her keeper. Even though she only pushed at food around her plate and picked at what little her current sensitive stomach could endure, Vitruvion seemed a little easier. Naturally, she was still in an immense mood with him, stiffening the first time he came close. After that he had avoided her general vicinity, but been more watchful.

Eventually, however, the matter of the door became too much to ignore and so, when the world seemed to be quieter and a sense of evening drew closer, she spoke up.

“Okay, why the hell am I locked in here?”

He glanced up from the paper he was writing on; now part of a thick manuscript he seemed to have made. From its top page she could work out some strange forms that looked like the diagram of circles within circles, and various lines with words connection to them.

Brow furrowed somewhat he stared at her before answering; in a tense, dark voice. “You are not so much locked in here as all others are locked out.”

“You hired all those men,” she shoved a hand towards the door, “Who do you not trust?”

“Everyone,” he answered flatly. “Aside from you, Zulon and Ventrua. Now Raevin is secure, and my sister is fucking gone, so you are the last worry - do you want to me to explain to you how far I am willing to go to keep you safe, do you Stare?”

She scowled deeply, but looked away. “No you don't need to,” she replied in a foul voice. “But I'd rather that trust extended to me being able to leave this room.”

“A day ago you were not willing to leave that sofa.” He used the exact same tone.

“Yes, and I wonder whose fault that is.”

Immediately he went silent. His chest rose and fell with passionate energy. As he threw the darkest glare at her, full of a fury that she had created Stare sat up somewhat straighter, rolling back her shoulders and preparing to hold her own ground. Likewise his chin tilted up, a certain brand of pride in that arched neck and he tightened his jaw steadily.

“If you are that desperate, Stare,” he finally said after a long, exponential pause, “then when you have improved your health again, then we can arrange to go outside. Bare in mind, however, I will still not let you out of my sight, and there will be so many guards that others would suspect you were royalty.”

“I want freedom, Vitruvion, not … not this life anymore.”

“Dearest, as far as I am concerned I am keeping you from being imprisoned.”

And he was right. It seemed for her there was little choice: his cage … or Vindrexis’. Her life was not her own anymore.

[Stare]

Day five.

With more food deposited down her gullet, even if it was the few scraps of bread, meat and the odd boiled vegetable, the kenku gained strength. Vitruvion seemed content with her eating, as long as it was something, and the bottles of water were steadily emptied as the day wore on. With the knowledge now of the door, and more clarity on what Vitruvion’s main concerns were - namely, her safety, health and sanity - her attention came to settle on the fact that she had to admit that this was it. It was her life now.

Indeed, for over a year she had been in his company, working under him as first a project, then rising to housekeeper, and then steward. She had wielded the power over all his companies, been his representative here, within the Hollow itself, and caused him now to place a hold on his personal projects so that he might better protect her. When he had said that she would not leave his sight, she had not realised to what extreme that meant; literally he was having his letters and other correspondence delivered to the Hollow via couriers. Not one of them seemingly had concerned her directly, for he had said nothing as he rolled his eyes and scribbled out replies, then given them back to Zulon for eventual reversion.

There was frustration, however, building in him, and she could see it in his eyes. Only two times did he leave the room, and he had both times locked the door behind him. On the fifth day when it happened, and he exited without a word, Stare paced, moving as slowly as her still strengthening legs would allow, and using as much furniture and her strengthening wings for support. Her mind became filled with thoughts that she had very little choice currently with what was happening in her existence. And it seemed she was going to have to live with that, like she had done so far in the year. Here she was, almost eighteen, and a mature kenku but never going to age. A young woman stuck in a world that she had never wanted, but she had come to adapt into and even excel in. Somehow she had had a god fall in love with him.

So really, did she have a choice at all? Well, yes perhaps she had a choice in how that life was going to work out. Already she had persuaded, through arguing admittedly, to let her outside of the Hollow ‘when she was healthy’. Now she was working on that health, building on her strength, and already with her emotions in check. Far was she from the state when she had, for instance, woken up from her first and only death so far. Or the first day here, when she had been curled on the sofa, lost in a misery of tears.

Sounds began to come from the door. Twisting her head she remained standing, balanced on foot, stretching her wings and flexing the toes of the other as he came through, his white hair pulled back into a ponytail and dressed in cleaner clothes than he had left in. His brow slightly rose as he saw her out of the sofa, but he nodded a little and took a step in. A curious face from behind him leaned in, which was shortly joined by another, and Vitruvion kicked the door sharply in their faces. Stare was taken aback by the ogling, and was strangely relieved in that single moment that the beings on the other side could not get in.

“Clothes,” he grunted, lifting up an arm from his body, and in it Stare could see a carefully folded and neatly tied bundle of fabric.

“You were at the mansion?” she questioned, not hiding the envy in her voice.

He nodded once, setting the package on the end of the sofa, “Yes, if only briefly. Mer had some issues she needed addressing and -” he curled his lip with distaste, “that does not matter. It was an opportunity to gather supplies.”

“So you are allowed to leave,” she grumbled. “But I am not.”

“For one, I am me,” Vitruvion said, none too humbly. He began to walk over towards the armchair he had been occupying before he left. “Second, yes you are powerful, more so than the other guards, but in your current state potentially not the most astute to your surroundings. And as previously addressed, I do not trust anyone but myself specifically to keep you safe in this current moment of time.”

“Zulon, Eirik and Jordain did a fine enough job whilst you were away,” she savagely commented.

“Hmm, indeed, and managed to let you slip from their presence. My dearest,” he picked up a cushion from the chair and plumped it once before placing it back down, “there is no arguing this point.”

“Dickhead,” she muttered as she grabbed the fresh clothing. “I am having a bath.”

“Be my guest,” he replied dryly.

[Stare]

Day Six.

Judging currently what was an issue in her life and how she could improve on the situation was arduous. There were certainly a great amount of unpredictable variables to consider, whether Vitruvion would, at any point, give up on his quest to keep her permanently safe, and allow her back to feeling more useful. It made her realise that she was beginning to get bored here, and especially after she had sworn off suicide as an option there was less self-orientated sympathy in her mind and far more dissatisfaction. The very issue that he was fond of her had fallen out of conversation, as he had made clear his desire from the evening of the discovery. Indeed, he had never even specifically said that it should be forgotten as a memory, and Stare was none too glad - although the memory still burned.

What had she then, to bargain with, and what did she want to gain? Certainly, she wanted more freedoms than she currently had - being ordered where to go and what she could not do was another bar to her gilded cage that she did not especially find attractive. Even knowing what plans he had for her, instead of just sending her to some far off place, and lying to her as he had done various times, would be of use. Being able to bargain with those plans also, to be an equal in the general rules that constructed her life, aside from the larger structure of her enclosure was something she had been without for all this time, and it was something that, as she thought about it, she truly, honestly wanted.

She could deal with more generalised changes. A switch to business perhaps, an alteration in circumstance, such as the household which she was controller of, and even a decision to move home - those were all simple things that she felt she could endure through. But currently there were not enough freedoms to satisfy her. There were also the underlying issues of her being his thrice-cursed-Ansaldo property, as well as being linked to his mind. Even though she could bare them, and had been baring so far, it was uncomfortable to consider them, especially, most primarily, the former.

She also knew that she would never want to lie intimately with another person again, most especially not him. Not currently, anyway. The very idea of sex was, right now, sickening to her, even though she had minorly enjoyed the temptations of the flesh with demons. Most definitely she neither wanted, nor needed it.

Arms folded across her chest she sat in the corner of what had become her sofa, still surrounded by blankets but no longer buried. Her legs were drawn up beneath her, her wings were folded perfectly neatly, and she had her beak resting on the back of the sofa, so she huffed into the air as she thought all of this. Vitruvion throughout the day had been working on what was apparently now a treatise, taking pages and rearranging and rewriting them as light and small smiles crept across his face.

Clearly he was absorbed, as a new layer of understanding or some such was coming into his mind. She knew he was highly intelligent, and had a great comprehension of the ways life and the stars worked, yet apparently had used these past few days to come to some form of new discovery. His pencils worked fluidly to build images of structures she could only describe as ‘wiggly,’ and had no idea what all those words meant. ‘Acidum,’ ‘biologia,’ and ‘duplex helix’ were not within her vocabulary.

“Sir?” came a polite knock.

“Mmm,” Vitruvion waved a hand and the door slipped open.

Zulon’s face appeared, bearing a tray filled with sumptuous steaks, what seemed like potatoes and a salad. Stare blinked at him from her view of the back of the sofa, and he smiled briefly, looking more satisfied at her appearance. Behind him there were again faces peering in, and Stare wondered what rumours were currently running rampant through the Hollow. Certainly some of interesting context for them to work with, as likely the story of what had occurred in the theatre had in some way been translated into the workings of the guards.

Shutting the door as fast as he could, Zulon came into the room and headed right over to Vitruvion. He held out a meal to him, extending an arm. The god pushed his manuscript carefully to the side before taking it, and quietly made a comment. Zulon nodded once, then turned to head over to Stare, and, surprisingly, extended the plate towards her. For the first time in several days.

Lifting her beak from the sofa back she blinked at him, tilting her head. “My lady,” Zulon said quietly. Lowering her brow she slowly unfolded her arms and began to curl fingers around the plate. It was the first time he had ever used that instead of, ‘Miss,’ and she wondered precisely what Vitruvion had said. Taking the food onto her lap she simply mumbled a reply.

“Thank you.”

[Stare]

Day seven.

Quite happily, she slept in. After stealing a blanket she had slumped upon her sofa and slept with a full stomach, after eating all of the food and not feeling nauseous after. It was much more suitable to sleep in her clothing, and so she had for the past few days including this one, and had a single set of clean clothing left. When she began to become aware she noticed that fresh candles had been set into the room, and lit to signal it was day time. There was also the keen knowledge that a figure was there, and he was already keenly pouring through the pages of his book.

For a while she just looked at his pages with her eyes half closed, blinking in the light. Then she sighed, once her stance became too uncomfortable and she leaned over to grab a bottle of water close by.

“Morning,” he said in a low voice.

She grunted a reply, pushing herself up into a seated position, the blanket falling around her shoulders. Tugging it fully back up she uncorked the bottle, and began to glug the cold liquid. Vitruvion said nothing more and returned to his writing. Once she was done she shoved the stopper back into the bottle and dumped it back on the ground before staring at her feet. It took her a moment to speak.

“I am bored. I need something to do.”

“Like what?” he replied, lifting up a page and narrowing his eyes at it.

“A book,” she answered. “Brer brought me books when I … then.”

He raised his eyes and looked at her for a moment, before inclining his head and setting the page back down. “Very well,” he stood up from his seat, pulling straight his clothes. “Any other requests?” He paused, “reasonable ones.”

“I want to go outside,” she said, tightening the blanket around her. Then she added, as a salty afterthought, “please.”

Pursing his lips slightly he gazed at her before answering. “I will consider it.” And he nodded once before striding out of the room, a small click occurring before he got to the door and pulled it open.

“Fuck OFF!”

Stare seized. Quickly she pulled the blanket around her as if it was a shield, tugging it up her neck and over half of her head. Vitruvion began to bellow as the door slid closed and she could still hear him shouting loudly. Clearly there was some controversy outwith her small world of the past week, and spectators to come see the captive kenku, but kept there for entirely protective reasons.

It kept going, the yelling, for a long few seconds. Stare curled up onto the sofa, sighing as she felt like she belonged in a freak circus, and was nothing more than the latest oddity. There was some comfort in the fact that Vitruvion did not consider her such, but then he was the one keeping her detained in the initial instance. There she remained, in her quiet comfort until once more the shouting began again.

A book was slid onto the sofa before her as the door was shut. Glancing at the cover she saw that it was one of Brer’s old romances - something she had actually read before. Curling her hand around it she tugged it underneath her form but did not open it just yet.

“I have sworn extreme punishment on any of them that are still remaining the next time the door opens,” he growled angrily. “And my wrath will be great.”

Remaining where she was she ignored his comments, but hoped that the threat would be taken seriously. Out of the corner of her eye she watched him take back his seat, then lift up the paper once more. Eventually she dragged the book from underneath her and opened it, sitting up onto her elbows to begin to read.

[Stare]

It was late evening, and Stare had picked at her meal, leaving around a quarter of the potato cakes, fine quality chicken and roasted vegetables that were all cooked with a honey glaze. Very steadily she breathed as she supported the book upon her lap, still dressed closely in the depths of the blanket. Around mid afternoon she had washed, and come back to find laundered clothes patiently waiting on her, neatly folded on the end of the bed. She chose the plainest tunic and undergarments she saw, tugging them on slowly. Then she had returned to the book, which was entitled ‘All is in the Garden’ and told a story about a gardener and his secret affair with the local Bardsinger’s daughter.

There a tap at the door. Stare braced herself for an onslaught of possible ogling eyes as Vitruvion looked up and there was the now familiar click. After a pause, and hearing no roar from the god, Stare glanced up, and was surprised to see no one at all, aside from Zulon slipping into the room. He nodded.

“We are ready sir … if you are.”

“Indeed,” Vitruvion nodded and set his papers to the side, slipping them now into a large leather pouch. “Stare?” he said, not looking at her.

“What?” she looked surprised, hands tightening around the book, and staring up at him.

“You wanted to go outside.”

Alert suddenly, she perked up, her back straightening and inhaling once, sharply. She slammed the book shut, not caring for once where she was and nodded. “Now?”

“Now,” Vitruvion answered. “It has taken most of the day to ensure the other hosts are out of the Hollow, or at least occupied, and enough guards to be available.” He paused, looking now at her with raised eyebrows. “Or are you now saying-”

Tugging off her blanket she rose fast, smoothing down her tunic. “Is it cold outside?” she asked.

He inclined his head. “Bring your dagger also. It is in your trunk.”

Glancing briefly to Zulon Stare started straight to the bedroom. No matter how he wanted her to dress - even if he had wanted her to wear her full chainmail, Stare would have done so quite happily. This was her chance now, her opportunity no matter how late in the day to finally get out of this hellhole and stretch her legs. Despite it meaning she would need to stride pass ears that had heard wild rumours, Stare was eager to breathe the fresh air. For too many days now had she been down here, with very little to do, and making herself sick because of her own stupidity.

In the bedroom she kicked open the leather trunk that had housed her clothes for her stay here. From it she grabbed a grey woollen cloak, as well as her mythril that was neatly tucked away. Gathering up these items she swung the cloak around her body, and tied the dagger onto her belt, before rejoining Vitruvion who now seemed better to walk. The glint of the end of his new sheath for that golden secret dagger could be spotted by a keen eye akin to her own.

His eyes washed over her once, and there was a lingering smile that touched his lips, a rare, warm softness in his eyes. Stare paused, cautious of it, before he gave her a single nod. Suddenly the warmth was gone and he was back to being formal - his strong, powerful demeanor - and he stepped back to gesture for her to go before him. Eyes glancing over she saw that the door was open, and behind it the half giant Brer waited, huge hammer slung over his shoulder. There was some comfort in seeing that, in seeing her friend that she had made despite the months of incarceration here. Pulling her cloak around her front she started forwards, beak ducking slightly as she stepped from the room in the first time in an entire week.

The room before her had been changed. Gone was the old world of tables and devices with clear metal hoops for chains. Instead, a large table was shoved against the back wall, and on it a collection of assorted objects that did not seem to belong to anybody - blankets, candlesticks, a variety of horse crops and a painting of a young, brown haired dwarf. Aside from the crops there was nothing to remind Stare about this room's former purpose - where Vitruvion had taken her virginity. Now he was something of a different man, with a different attitude entirely as to how to treat her. Stare moved slowly as she took it in, then turned to see the door that led through into the next room.

More guards waited. Three at least, and amongst them Stare spied Jordain. Behind her there was noise and she turned to see Zulon and Vitruvion come out of the antechamber. Briefly the god looked at her, before gesturing for her to go.

Sucking in a short breath she squared her shoulders and began out. As soon as she did the guards who were there already pushed into a formation clearly already decided. Brer draw right to her side, blinking twice at her before looking forwards. Zulon moved his way around to take the lead, and Vitruvion unsurprisingly took up a place right behind her. Turning slightly she spied the face of Sable at the glass partition of her door, gazing out at her. The young woman looked curious, but also had a kind and encouraging look on her face. Stare breathed out and gave her a single nod, not sure of how to deal with the emotions concerning that woman who had changed hers and Vitruvion's relationship so dramatically. If Sable had not burst out with her sudden comprehension, what would have happened? Would life had just gone on, Vitruvion angrily keeping her close and forcing her to follow him everywhere he went like a dog?

It was too late to ask those questions now. Shuffling of feet was sounding and people were beginning to steadily move forwards. Her retinue, her over compensating protection.

Stare twisted back around, and began to walk, hugging the cloak around herself as silently their exodus began their way from the Hollow.

[Stare]

Most definitely the god, her god, had chosen his timing correctly. The corridor that led to the surface was more or less empty. No brothers dragging their stolen women or guards peering to see the rogue kenku who had now risen in hierarchy above all of them, yet still was somehow trapped.

They walked in silence. More guards joined them on their excursion and Stare became more rigid as they reached the end of it - to the door where the large mess hall was. She squared her shoulders, twisted her hand around the hilt of her dagger and became fully intent on marching past them without any reaction.

There were fewer guards then normal in the hall, but some nevertheless. Some of them turned their way, raising eyebrows to the large company that was entering. A couple of them gawped at Stare like idiots before Vitruvion growled.

Hurriedly they looked away and Stare knew she was going to have to add that to her list of requests. To let her fight her own battles. Treat her with respect and send her on missions as he had before, by herself. Indeed, his sister had just gone missing, and she had been lying in self pity for some long days, but that did not mean she was pathetic. The kenku walked faster, folding her arms tightly over her chest and there was a need for a general picking up of the pace.

Eventually the front door came into view. Stare perked up, excitedly for the desire to simply see the outside. Eyes darting around she began to take in the dream of the outside world, that she had partly refused to see herself, then been refused to see by others. Slowly, she stepped into the dusklight, her lungs filling with the crisp, cold air. Her entire stance relaxed, her eyes took in the buildings, the street and the world beyond and suddenly … things were good again.

She began to walk, turning around as if to head for the stables hidden behind the side of the Guard House. But a voice disagreed.

“Walking,” he said, and for the briefest moment touched her shoulder. Her body spun in surprise of it. Already he was taking steps, and gesturing ahead. “Come.”

She looked at him a moment, breathing in long and gradual. He tilted his head back to her, raising a brow.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she grunted, though was sorely disappointed in being told where she was to go.

Vitruvion watched her for a moment as she started towards him. A couple of times he blinked, but he did not answer her, rolling back his shoulders and beginning to walk.

-+-

For some long hours they walked, the sun setting around them, the world quietly becoming a still life. The guards separated from them, merging into the streets and alleyways surrounding, keeping a respectful distance away, but still there. More than once Stare caught sight of one of them, passing across the width of a perpendicular avenue, as she crossed, and sometimes shadows flickered at the tops of buildings. Her pace, however, was set to that of Vitruvion, who walked ahead at a reasonable pace, forging a path through this night time city, the two of them as ghosts confined to a plane of existence.

She kept quiet, simply enjoying the silence and stillness for what it was. Not getting tired easily, she kept going after him, although sometimes they paused as he reached a crossroad with indecision. Keeping her eyes mostly on the ground or at his back Stare felt the metaphor similar to her own situation - being at the crux of unknown futures. Indeed, she could probably try to get away now, simply stopping and falling behind, or ducking into a nearby doorway. She did not have her marbles - in fact she wasn't sure where they were at all currently, having not seen them after her return from the theatre. After she had slumped and eventually fallen asleep she had woken without any of her weapons either on her.

But the fact she had once used them already to escape from Vitruvion's obsessive 'protection’ was somewhat understandable. Justifiable was something else, but with his controlling personality it was going to take a rather extreme amount of negotiation to gain them back. To persuade him that she was better with them.

It made her decision to try to make a deal with him all the more attractive. Without the conversation, where would she be? Stuck, doing this silence for days, weeks, months on end? Practically a prisoner, although in some terms free, and nowhere near what she had been once. What could she honestly offer him though, that he would agree with for all of the benefits and changes that she desired? Her agreement to stay with him? That was already a given, surely. He had said, quite plainly in answer to her question that he would never let her go. So what else? A willingness to stay perhaps, a guarantee that she would no longer complain, no longer fight his authority. Because he was her god, she had to remind herself of that.

What else? What did he actually want from her that she was willing to give? Intimacy was definitely out of the question for her - she was going to remain adamant on that front. Perhaps, if she offered her fealty, as Raevin once had? Was that really something she wanted to do? Swear her allegiance to him? Well, wasn't she loyal to him anyway?

The problem was, there was a list twice as tall as her of things she wanted, but there was very little she could think of that she could offer him. Certainly, he could have some suggestions of his own - that she was open to. Maybe he would surprise her, and ask for some odd guarantee, like a promise or a favour, saved for later. What did he actually want? Well her, for one, and her safety. He wanted his kingdom, his power. He wanted his sister back. He wanted Raevin well, and he wanted security. Stare did not know how to find a way to give many of those things. For instance, finding him power … was that even possible?

It was, simply by her staying with him. She made him stronger, that had become clear from one of the initial months of when she had first demonstrated her magic. And now - now she had wings, had speed, had an ability to stare and cause a plethora of negative effects on people. All the world was hers, could be for the taking.

[Stare]

It got colder into the dark, as night settled around them. Still they walked, onwards through the empty streets that had never been filled, in the wake after the Corpse War. Some areas of the city of course were alive, such as the centre and the residential area, but those they seemed to try to avoid.

Or were going to. Around the early hours of the morning Vitruvion seemed to realise that she might be hungry, or thirsty. He headed into an area with a few shops, that were all closed, but also a pub, with a large area of window to give a view of the interior. As they got there, he gave it a once over, then paused and looked back to her, questioningly. Slightly, she nodded, drawing her cloak around herself.

Straightening, the god became tall and keen and sauntered into the pub, head held high. Stare was left by herself in the street, with the laughter of those who were still enjoying life into these small hours. She saw a flicker from a shadow, and a great hulking figure detached himself from it. Brer stepped into the light of the lanterns that brightened this small lively street, and then stopped beneath, lurking and downlit so his features were exaggerated to look drawn and horrifying.

It made Stare internally laugh, though, when one considered the giant's gentle nature. He was there to make her know there she knew someone was watching, a sort of attempt at comfort.

This, she took in, but she also knew it was partly so that because Vitruvion was gone presently, someone was able to directly watch her. Watch what the world was like around her. Rolling her eyes slightly she looked back to the pub, counting the frames in her head of the individual panels that were in a patchwork style. There were twenty of the small squares that made up the whole, with some of them warped with circular or bumpier patterns. Through them, however, a rough view of the interior could be seen, and the tall, white haired man who waited at the bar in a manner he never usually would do. Normally someone else, like her, would be standing for him. Slowly she took some places forwards as she took in the quite ordinary scene and wished her life were that normal.

There was a sudden shout. She saw various people twist around towards the door. Then there was a louder yell, and someone crashed through the door at the same time a sudden dark shape came towards the window The tiny wooden barriers holding the glass panels in could not stand for the sudden dwarf that was being thrown through, and suddenly -

She was shoved over by the same man who was running from the door. Cursing, Stare slammed into the ground backwards. The thrown dwarf landed near her head, rolling for a couple of moments before he stopped. Stare looked from him, and up, to see the one who had pushed her over standing and staring into the pub. Hissing darkly she began to stand, letting a string of kenku annoyances coming to her beak before -

Thwunk. The sound of a crossbow bolt being released. Now Stare was the one pushing the man to the side, aiming to knock him out of the way as she lifted her eyes to see where the bolt was darting -

A split second was all she got. A thick line heading right for her skull. Quickly, she sucked in breath, knowing it was still impossible for Brer to get to her, or for her to duck already, even with her speed. It was so few microseconds until it hit her breast and she began to twist, as the shoulder would be better, when -

Nothing happened. Stare blinked, confused, as no pain exploded in her upper arm, her collar or anywhere similar. Instead there was now a second figure looming over her, this one pale and gaunt-looking, holding the bolt in two fingers, like he had just plucked it straight from the air.

Like he of course had actually done.

She sighed, as he stared daggers at her - a meaningful 'I told you so,’ look in his eyes. There was a secondary series of small thunks, and both of them looked over to see a man reloading the crossbow. Stare didn't pause. Immediately she summoned up an image of horror - the realisation that her brother had just killed her, this time - and shoved those emotions through her eyes at the man's wrist. He let out a vivid scream, and she used her current fury to drive her to look to his eyes. Dropping the unloaded crossbow he used his good hand to begin clutching at his face, crying, “I can't see! I can't … see!”

Vitruvion paused before he extended a free hand to start pushing apart the feathers at her shoulder. Stare leant out of the way.

“I’m fine,” she muttered. An eyebrow rose at her. “Honestly,” she stared at him flatly.

Vitruvion curled his lip as he snapped the bolt into two. There was a hissing sound as it disintegrated from the bottom up, falling to dust in his hand.

There was a stunned silence. From all within and outwith the pub. Aside from a single whimper coming from beneath them - the man the crossbow had been aimed at. “I'm sorry,” he mumbled, “please don't.”

Stare huffed, then took a step back and began to stalk away, back in the direction of Brer. She did not pause or look back to see if Vitruvion exacted any vengeance on those who had enacted the violence - in all honesty she did not care. It was his personality, his way. Dutifully, she had done her part, told him she was well, and that was all there was to it, as far as she was concerned. Still fuming, she began to walk right away, the half-giant in her shadow.

It was several minutes before Vitruvion caught up with her. This time he walked beside her, though still a full person's width away. Silence fell between them, the guards merged back into the darkness and all was as it was before.