"Listen, girl," his voice hissed against her long, thin ear. She shivered at the sound, raking through her clouded mind like gravel on bare skin.

Her body gave a single, involuntary jerk before it fell still. Quelled in terror by the merciless grip in her hair, pulling her head back until her bare throat strained against metal. The promising, icy kiss of the needle at her neck.

Rynce made a soft, frightened sound. Quiet in his pitiless hands.

"Listen tah me." His voice, when it came again, was lower than before. An angry snake at her cheek. "Do you know what this is?"

When she said nothing he snorted, giving her hair a tug to make sure the elf was still with him. "Dis." He said, pressing the steel to her neck, "Dis be everythin' you've ever feahed."

Albehd felt her nod. It was faint and trembling, but it was a nod none the less. He tugged again, the jerk pulling a small moan from the creature in his hands. The troll's words dropped low and cruel, a growl that made her quake. "Nightmare vine. Distilled an' t'ickened. Used as a syrup tah mix wit other componants. Clever." He leaned closer. "Yahr monster was clever."

She shrieked then, and Albehd drew back as if he had expected it. But the needle lingered, umoved by the display.

"Yahr exposure be another issue. Ah keep wonderin'... why aren' yah dead."

Rynce shook. Slowly she reached to touch the sides of her face, but the troll denied her. Warningly he jerked her hair. The mage gagged, falling still.

"You have something wort' livin' for." He rasped. "Something more important den peace. What is it?"

"I... no..." her voice broke, strained too far between fright and bend. "L-let me die."

"Yah wan' ta die, girl?" The touch of the needle receded. "You can die. Ah leave yah heah. Yah le' d'paison eatcha up. Ah leave yah to i'."

"Please..."

Albehd leaned close, large fingers still tight in her hair. "Oah, ah kin be snappin' yah neck. Quick. Merciful."

"Pl- ease..."

"What's most important?" He hissed, leaning back to watch her cringe. "Tell me, girl, oah ah put the monstah back in yah veins."

The redhead twisted, tears leaking from her screwed shut eyes. "I don't-"

"Yah one ting. What be commin firs'. Tell me."

"M-"

"Fastah."

"My f-family!" She shrieked, the word escaping like a cry of pain.

"Yah fam'ly."

"Pl- please..."

Albehd tightened his grip, yanking her back until the bones gave a protesting groan. "Ah gotcha anitidote." He murmured softly. "Ah kin make i' go 'way. Peace, garl. Death oah life, yah choose."

"I-"

"But ah be takin' yah man." The troll leaned close. "Eidah way. Ah take his blood foa yours."

"NO!" She shrieked again, staring, wide eyed as he tossed her over. Pinning her down to glare into her face.

"Him oah you. He don' have tah suffah, girl." He snarled, letting the elf see the long, thin needle in his grasp. "Bud if yah choose him, ah'll send yah ta d'arms a yah nightmare lovah. Pick. Quickleh nah."

"TAKE ME!" her voice beat at the walls like a desperate bird, bloodying itself with the force of her despair. "ANYTHING! L-LEAVE HIM ALONE!"

Albehd turned his head, the volume or the sentiment unsettling him. It was a moment before he spoke again, bowing down to bring their eyes together.

"An his children, girl. You oah dem."

"Please... anything... leave- leave them...."

"Anyt'ing." The old soldier considered this, brushing at the space below one of his ears. "Yah girl, too, girl? D'one wit a yeti at'ah feet."

"Yes... ye-yes."

"D'votion." Albehd bent low, blocking the quivering girl from view as he forced his sheer size against her. Drawing up with teeth bared in the fashion of challenging males. He'd hoped to scare her, and waited to continue until he saw the trembles wrack her body.

"Den ahl trade. Yah mis'ry, foah dere safety. Bud dere's onleh one a you, girl. So which is i'? Yah fren? Oah yah man?"

He watched the words sink into her mind. Gauged the size of her pupils as the choice hit home. Albehd narrowed his eye, his body tense despite his skepticism. And then the reaction came.

The troll was small amongst his kind- painfully so. But she was even smaller. The weight she threw against him meant nothing, it failed even to upset his balence. She screamed unintelligible defiance, raking claw-like fingernails against his face.

Albehd released her hair. He caught her wrist on the second swing with a crooked smile.

The woman raged against him, thrashing and biting with all the force that she had. It was only when the fire sparked at the tips of her fingers that the troll gave her a single, violent shake.

"So." He said. "Maybeh yah ain' so pitiful aftah all."

"Don't- Don't- I won. I won' let you touch-"

"Quiet dahn, girl. Listen." He shook her again. "Listen to me."

Rynce gagged again, falling still out of illness more than obediance.

"Yah still alive, coz yah ga sometin' tah live foa. Yah feahs have torn yah apaht, butcha still alive. Nah listen to me, b'cause watcha do nah determines how much longah."

"Ah..."

Albehd presented the small, silver needle. Held it out just at arm's length.

"Dere ain' no antidote, girl." He said softly. "Whas been done tah yah nah, ain no way tah undo i'."

Rynce stared at him for a moment, as if uncomprehending. Then the tears subsided as blank sadness took their place.

"Bud you a fightah, girl. Yah got a chance."

"I'm... crazy?" she asked in a small voice.

"Foah nah. Maybeh always. Bud yah conquah dis, oah yah die."

"Conquer..." her eyes fell to the glimmer of the needle, slack in his hand.

"Yah mastah i'. Oah yah lose to i'."

The redhead reached for the syringe, fingers closing shakily around it.

"Master..." she murmured, glancing up at his still form. "...Fear?"

"Dey beatcha. Dey raped yah. Dey cutcha apaht. Dey took yah fam'ly from yah, girl. An yah still heah. Wahs lef?"

Rynce looked down at the small, silvery tube in her palm. And without warning, she took it to her wrist. "Nothing..." she murmured. "Nothing bu-but the fear."

Albehd didn't try to stop her. If he had expected this reaction, his expression didn't say. He leaned back as her form began to writhe against her rising screaming.

In an hour she would be herself again, or she would be dead. All that there was now to do was wait.

And it came to me then that every plan is a tiny prayer to Father Time.

"Yah know me bettah." Albehd turned, dismissing her with an ease she felt somehow offended by.

Lana rubbed her temple with the flat of her hand, shaking her head as the Trollish rose like a dirge in the back of her throat. "/And what is it gonna take to get this from you?/"

Her brother waited in the darkness, painted impossible hues by the flicker and flare of smoking torches. He felt her eyes on his back while he stood, felt the pause in her breath and the defiance like the trickle of seawater down the ridges of his battered back.

"/What is this elven woman to you?/"

Lana shook her head. "/Nothin. She ain't a single thing to me, more than a copper penny or another stranger./"

"/Then why would you come to ask the impossible on her behalf?/"

"/Why./"

The tall woman rubbed the back of her neck, rustling the meticulous braids draped down her shoulders. She shook her head again, harder this time, as if it might clear the thought. And then she was shoving him, hands flat against his chest until he swayed with the force of her weight. "/Why!/"

Albehd watched her in silence, and she wondered why that surprised her. When she had come to believe he'd have snapped her neck as well as looked at her. When she'd become bold enough to make demands from the only male she'd ever cowered before.

"Jus do dis, Albehd!" She cried, pushing him again. "Don' make me tell yah why! Jus do i'! Do i' because you can! Because i' ain evah been hahd foa yah! " She grit her teeth, frustrated. "Do i' because yah nephew loves yah. B'cause ah knew yah wouldn... b'cause ah asked yah anyway."

Lana stopped shoving, letting her weight drop against his chest. She felt him stumble then, and remembered that he was so much smaller than she had ever been. Strange how it was so easy to forget.

"Do i' because my braddah wouldn'a let someone die onleh he could be savin'. B'cause ah need tah believe dat he still wouldn."

She closed her eyes, listening to the slow beat of his heart. Unmoved even as her own thumped with the force of her shouting. When he spoke his hand had found her shoulder. A strange grip somewhere between tenderness and hate.

"/You find your One Thing, girl?/" He asked.

The woman in his arms nodded faintly, wondering how long the limbo would last. "Yahmon. /I found it./"

"/It isn't me, is it./"

"/No. But I was never your thing, either, was I./"

"/I thought so, once./"

"/So did I./"

They were quiet for a beat, growing still in the face of a mutually unhappy truth. It hushed the fires around them like a lingering memory made tangible to the air.

"/My boy, Albehd./" She said when it had passed again. "/I'd bend the whole world for my boy./"

He nodded then, taking a steady breath that rose his shoulders to his chin. "/You know he isn't even your blood./"

"/I know. But he's still mine. My baby./"

"/You know he wont be small forever. Someday he'll grow and you two wont agree. look at those you come on a mission for. Someday he may even want your throat for his blades. You know that./"

Lana smiled around her tusks, and there was a hint of misery in it. "/And your honor, too. Ain't that killed you, Brother? Ain't that broke you down till you can't stand. Taken your happiness like a sacrifice on Hakkar's alter./"

The old man nodded, touching the edge of his unbroken tusk against her neck.

"/But your honor, brother. That ever made you smile? Or break your heart so good it makes you want to cry?/"

"...No." he admitted into their embrace, his words quiet against the crackle of flames.

And Lana smiled though the answer brought the angry prick of tears to her eyes. "/I'm winnin'./"

The howl of the Western wind drew a hiss from the tourches that sputtered and glowed in the waning evening light. They stood for a long time like that, and when they had parted once again, Lana couldnt remember exactly how.

Noon had come and gone some time ago now, the brilliant, nearly abrasive light of the early afternoon trickling through the leaves. Painting the world in pinks and oranges. Blaine watched the off-grey shadows dance and sway with the lazy wind, keeping time with their branchy counter-parts.

"Ryncewind," he said, bouncing a bit to get the attention of the small redhead sprawled over his shoulders. "Rynce, my darling. C'mon lass. You're missing the view."

"Nuh," muttered the girl sleepily, snuggling her face into his hair. "I see it. 'S'pretty."

"If I had to conjecture," the short man replied dryly, "I would say the only thing you're seeing, lass, is the color of my roots. Oh- Rynce. Now look at that. A dragonlet."

"Wha?" She asked, peeking over the top of his head.

"See there?" Blaine gestured at the serpentine creature that twisted in circles through the air, summersaulting playfully. It shimmered in the August light, and the blond felt his living backpack wriggle to get a better look.

"Do they bite?"

"I'm sure I dont know, lass."

The little girl wriggled, slipping down his back. Any sleepiness from a moment before utterly abated. Blaine watched her run after the dragonhawk with the enthusiasm only available to the truly young.

"Hey!" She chirruped, turning the golden head. "Hey! Hey!" She cooed, holding out her hand. "Come'ere pretty."

The dragonhawk reguarded her for a moment uncertainly. The redhead pondered this, then turned on her heel and shot back into Blaine's arms.

"-Oof!" The human coughed once as they collided, catching her up though he couldnt have explained how. She was like a goblin missle, that one.

"Blaine!" She smiled up at him, all innocence and excitement and such honesty that it made the man's throat close for a moment. "Blaine, do you have any cheese left?"

"Cheese?" He banished the thought, unwilling to ruin the girl's day by letting her catch him making himself ill. "You think it will like cheese, lass? It's a..." he paused, looking over her shoulder at the creature again. "Well. I'm not sure what it is, but I rather doubt it's a thing that would like cheese."

"That's what we have." She said matter of factly, and without bothering to argue further Blaine offered her the square of Darnassian blue left over from their picnic lunch.

The girl grinned at him, taking it and wheeling back to the dragonhawk still spinning lazy loop-de-loops in the sunlight.

"Here, pretty!" she crooned, extending a handful of cheese crumbs. "Pretty thing."

The blond watched, ready to spring if the serpent nosing and lapping at the crumbs decided suddenly that the elflette holding them looked more delicious. She giggled, stroking its sleek, gleaming scales with a tender affection.

She was, he realized then, a girl with no fear of anything at all.

The thought made him frown. He put his hand out to his petite companion, waiting for her to notice his summons. "Come on, lass." he urged in a quiet voice. "Still a ways to go yet."

With one last pat she skipped to take his hand, the ruffled blue sundress rippling as she ran. He sighed, swinging the girl up by their grip, catching her in his arms. She shrieked happily, clamboring up his shoulders as he held her, upsetting the peacebloom chain still settled in his hair so that it slipped over his bad eye.

"You're too big to be up there, you realize." he scolded without really meaning it, steadying her with a single hand as he started to walk again.

"Nuh." She smirked cheekily, smoothing out a strand of firey red. "I'm a tiny thing."

"Ah yes, well." Blaine chuckled, straitening the flowers netted in his ponytail. "I'm not sure that you've noticed, lass, but I am a tiny thing, myself."

"That's different."

"Is it?"

He felt her arms wrap about his neck, her small cheek settling against the top of his head. "You're the strongest man in the world, Blaine."

The blond paused then, just outside the Shepard's Gate of the shining elven city beyond. "Not quite, lass." he said, and if she hadn't known better, she'd have thought it was almost sadly.

"Not quite. But for you I wish I was."

The door jam thumped with the jingle of the decrepit bell. Cyrus turned, one hand still on the bottle of blue liquid. He frowned when he saw who it was, with no more than a faint change of his torn lips. Expressions were always so much more difficult post rigamortis.

Ryncewind knelt against the table she'd tipped over, her hair twisted against her face in the ragged shapes of dragons and illusion. She looked spent, and it was a poor look on her.

"You've come early," he remarked, hobbling towards her with concoction still in hand. "What brings you, girl? You can't have what I need so soon?"

The Forsaken balked as she tumbled into him, grabbing at his faded shirt collar. "Blaine!" She cried, clutching at him as though he were the only raft in a sea gone horribly dark. He closed one of the glowing yellow orbs that passed these days for his eyes, listening to the unhappy creak of his bones as she gripped him. "Blaine!" She gasped his name again.

Cyrus wrapped one arm around her, cradling her as the trembling of her knees gave way. It was an unpleasent feeling, life tucked against death that way, and he rather hoped the stink of his rot wouldn't cling long to her skin.

"Blaine..." Ryncewind hiccuped, ducking her head against his chest as she sank, not seeming to notice as her hat fluttered sadly to the ground. "I-it's in my bag... it's in... it's getting worse."

"I see that," he commented dryly, brushing a damp tangle of hair from her cold forhead. "It's really come to par on you, hasnt it."

"Help them- help them! It's... getting worse. There's blood everywhere... and your face..." As if it could make her clearer she reached up to touch at his torn lips, her fingers quaking as they brushed across his skin.

Cyrus closed his clawed hand around hers, gently guiding it away from his battered flesh. "Come now, lass. You need a sit."

As if on cue her weight shifted, sinking her slowly to the dingy floor. He bent to catch her, wrapping his spare arm about her legs and hoisting the mage up.

"Don't let me sleep." She whispered shakily. "Dont let me sleep Blaine dont let me sleep."

"Something tells me you haven't in quite some time." He replied at his very best 'conversationally'.

"They'll get me... dont let me sleep, they'll- Alderic isn-isnt... Alderic... isnt... here." She finished faintly, tears beginning to leak down the side of her face. Cyrus watched them curiously, wondering if she realized they were even there. "Wh-when I wake up... it wont... it wont... be okay... don't-"

"You're awake, lass." He assured her, perching on the edge of the couch, laying her head against his knee. "I see you."

"Don't let me sleep..." her voice was high and small like a wounded faun. "Blaine... Blaine dont..."

"Right here. I see you." He said, resting the bony talons gently on her cheek. "Just lie down a minute."

She sniffed. "I'm not asleep." She murmured faintly. "Too... too much... sign of the devil..."

"No." He agreed. "You're not asleep lass."

"Am I?"

"No, lass."

"Am I?"

"No, lass." Cyrus sighed, stroking her hair as he had once his ragged old hound. "No lass, you're still awake."

"Good." she murmured faintly. And something in it broke the old man's heart.

Warming up for the art exchange. :3

( SUPERSTEALTHNINJAHUG! )

In the creeping touch of morning, in the youngling wisps of light, still against the rising sun his shadow stretched to impossible lenghts. Slowly as it climbed it framed him, drown him out in golden light. From this highest point among them, balenced on the spire held afloat by the arcane, the elder watched their end reforming. No pity in his straight back and angled shoulders, no solace in his steady hands.

From here he could see them, if only their own shadows, moving against madness at a frantic pace. From here the reaching arches of the battered walls still glimmered in the early hours.

There, their hope was quickly dashing. There, their legacies unwound. There, their prince had gone to lay himself, ruined by the world at last. Ruining the rest of them with him.

Waelyn closed his eyes and listened, the stillness of the place unmarred. And faintly, in the distance heard an echo of his own opinion, in a woman's anguished, keening voice.

"Fools!" She shrieked her laments to the ocean. "My Lord! You broken, beautiful fool!"

Rynce shook her head, feeling the traitorous tears well at the corners of her eyes. No. No, god no.

Her companion grinned monstrously, drinking in her fear like her husband had sampled wine. She shivered, watching the slick gleam of the poison on his metal nails as they played against her lips. "Are you afraid?" He whispered, the prospect seeming to cheer him greatly. "Not so mighty without your witchcraft, are you? Perhaps faith is truely the weapon of use against the nether, after all." He snickered then, amusing himself.

Grabbing her knee with surprising strength, he sneered, throwing them apart and pressing his weight into her. She laid still, gritting her teeth as he dragged a hand across her abdomen.

"Docile now?" He laughed nastily. "Oh... you must be afraid. Dont be." The pale man leaned down, lapping at the curve of her cheekbone. "I wont hurt you... not until afterward..."

Rynce took a breath and shot strait upwards, slamming her forehead against his eye.

He howled, grabbing for his face, and in the same instant she leapt for the door.

"BITCH!" He screeched. "I'll KILL you!"

The night was freezing, tile unbearable against bare feet, but she hardly noticed tearing out into the darkness like the wrath of the Lich was hot on her heels. Maybe it was.

Inside he stumbled, bracing himself on the dresser. Another shriek echoed through the night as the small red snake sleeping there bit into his hand angrilly. He flung his hand, enraged, and tripped over himself to get away from it.

Outside she screamed. Help! Someone help! Anyone!

The silence left a cruel taste on her tongue. If she could scream for anyone, then she certainly wouldnt have had to. All of her power, wrapped up on the sound of her voice. Maybe she could get into the city. Maybe she could reach him. Maybe safety wasnt impossibly far. It was a new kind of hope.

One that splintered nastily when she felt the hand latch into the remains of her shirt.

He growled as he flung her into the brick road, lunging down to skewer her with his claws. She yelped, dodging under him, crawling the three steps it took to get to her feet. No. She refused to die here. No, not when she had something to wake up for in the morning.

But he was faster. How was he so fast. His fingers slipped around her neck, jerked her back into his arms. A steel mockery of a lovers embrace, the tips of his talons drawing blood from her flushed throat. "Little harlot." he whispered against her skin. "They wanted me to wait to kill you... WAIT. Ha. Maybe I'll just taste your corpse."

The heat was unthinkable. She gagged in his grip. This couldnt be happening, not when she was happy. Not now that she finally had a home.

"A..." she whimpered, the word dying against her lips as she struggled. "Ahl..."

"He wont help you, bitch." The crazed man jeered. "No one will now."

"Ahl..." She choked. Her stomach turned. By the sun, she might just die throwing up.

"What was that?" he leaned in close, smiling into her dimming eyes. "What did you say?"

"I... " she wheezed. "S..sai..."

"Yes?" he smirked, tightening his grip. "Go on."

"Fh..ire, bahl."

The pale man's face had a split second to express his dawning comprehension, before the satins of his clothes errupted into flame.

He screamed like a dying wildcat, dropping her to try and stop the flame, but there was no stopping it. Not now.

"[i]Burn![/i]" She shrieked. "You filthy BASTARD." Heaving another flame against him with all the force she had, coughing the pressure out of her throat. "Burn! I'll see you BURN!"

A hand caught her wrist from behind, and for one moment Rynce imagined setting flame to that trespasser too. But she turned instead, pale eyes aligned with sad ones. The redhead felt her heart deflate.

Alderic watched her without comprehension, dissapointment... sadness, too much to bear.

Rynce looked back at the Silvermoon tiles, and found her attacker somehow already gone.

"Morrigan..." his voice was low and questioning, his frown turning lower when he saw how naked she was. "What..?"

The sob wasnt hers. It couldnt have been. Rynce buckled against him, going limp in his hand. He watched a moment longer before bending. Taking her into his arms.

"Morrigan," he said again, and in her ears it sounded like a lament.

She didnt care. She sobbed into his chest, shaking as he carried her home.

She hadnt been sleeping well. The conversations with Alderic hadn't helped. Curling against his warmth had left her cold. She clasped her hands and shuddered now, alone in her own bed. He'd asked her to stay. She couldnt leave Arjuna alone forever. She couldnt be a complete coward. He said there was time, he said he'd leave her alone. He was a sick fuck who prided himself on being good to his word. Rynce took a steadying breath. She couldnt look Alderic in the face and admit how afraid she was of him.

The breathing helped. Close your eyes, focus on the sound of your lungs, the beat of your heart.

The soft sparkle of magic in the dark.

Rynce jolted around in the mound of covers. "Hot Stuff?" She called, then stopped, laying a hand against her throat.

No sound.

She shrieked silently as he grabbed for her neck. Where had he come from? How did he keep getting in? Why was he here? She beat at him like a frightened bird, biting into the flesh she could reach as he latched onto her arms with posioned claws.

"Hello," the pale elf murmured against her ear, and she froze. The slim man arched an eyebrow over one blue-ing eye. "Nothing to say?" he asked, sounding dissapointed.

Rynce opened her mouth again, but only the breath passed her lips.

He ran a single finger through her hair, tangling it up in a lock, brushing the strands into her face. "I came back to visit you," he said conversationally, rubbing his thumb down her collar bone. "I missed your face, hm?"

The redhead bit her lip, trying to make a tiny noise in the back of her throat, her companion smiled.

"You have so much explaining to do..." he murmured, his voice light. "Such a pretty thing... you stole him, you know. You stole him, you ruined a perfectly good match... and then you murdered him." He jerked her then, hands suddenly too close to drawing blood. "You succubus. Is that it? You wanted my brother to devour him? [i]Bitch![/i]" he spat, speckling her skin with his disdain.

Then it was gone again, replaced by the syrupy sweet. "I cant blame him..." he whispered, leaning in too far, brushing his lips along her neck. "You would be hard to resist.... for a normal man."

Rynce jolted, pulling out of his grip and lunging for the edge of the bed, but he caught her by the back of her nightgown, slammed her back into the feathered sheets. "Where do you [i]think[/i] you're running to?" he hissed, shoving her down, ignoring her frantic clawing as though it were not causing him to bleed. He forced his weight against her, crushing her against the bed, snarrling into her face. "Another man you tamed? Will you eat him too, you little demon?!"

His hand around her neck tightened as he picked her up to throw her down again, knocking the air from her lungs, and some of the wits from her head. "I should save him," he murmured, his voice pitching high with hysteria. "I should deliver him from your wicked heart. Dont you think? Dont you?"

The girl gagged, slicing into him with her nails, trying desperately to reach something- anything- to defend herself with. This was too familiar, this was getting too insane.

"I always wanted to taste you." He whispered acidically, bending to give the space between his fingers a delicate lick. "I didnt know you were poison. Shouldnt you have sunk your claws into me? Wouldnt that have been a better plan?" He laughed, light and lovely, and it made her stomache lurch.

"Or did you hope no one would notice? DID YOU?" she shrieked suddenly, renewing his effort to choke her to death. "When you lit his funeral pyre?!"

Rynce whimpered voicelessly, wishing Arjuna was home. Wishing she had never left Alderic's arms. She couldnt think, the fear was as thick as the knot in her throat and everything was getting dark. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. It was happening again. Why? Why wasnt anyone there to help her?!

"You tainted him," the man sneered, dripping his hate onto her skin as he straitened out. "Was it really that good?"

She cried out as his claw through her dress, jerking to cover herself as he tore the delicate fabric to its shreds.

"Are you worth dying for, Roan?"