![[Image: ChaseHare.jpg]](http://i80.photobucket.com/albums/j189/kyatai/ChaseHare.jpg)
She blinked, her cheeks flushing hot, but otherwise kept her expression fairly neutral.
"Going somewhere?" Her erstwhile guard growled, his face twisted in a self-satisfied, dark smirk.
She shifted her pack on her shoulder, sketching a shrug.
"Coeurl got your tongue?" he prodded her shoulder.
She felt the telltale tremble in her hands, but clenched them to hide it. "Just... wanted some fresh air..." She wished her voice sounded as light and dismissive out loud as it did in her mind.
A hand grabbed her forearm, jerking her back and against the tent post. She grimaced, looking up at the massive Hyur. His eyes were narrowed as he grabbed her pack and carelessly dumped it onto the grass before her. Papers, a few bits of dried meat and her traveling minutiae fluttered in the breeze as she let out a pained cry.
He laughed, tossing the sack aside as he stared at her.
"Won't need those where you're goin', Chigoe."
"But I-"Â Her eyes darted from face to face, all looming wide, solid and massive above her. She was going to die... Petyr had already said so...
So what was there to lose?
Rhalgr damn her if she'd go down without a fight.
She grabbed the post behind her and kicked out- surprising the Hyur more than any damage she might have done. The moment she hit the ground, she scooped up her notebook, tucked and rolled between their legs and darted towards the woods.
She was brought up short in a most painful way.
Shocks, snaking across her skin, stealing her breath as she was locked in place by the shield that surrounded the camp. Her body jerked uncontrollably ad she bit her tongue, fighting to not lose control of her bladder before the shield was abruptly shut off...
She collapsed bonelessly onto the ground, bathed in the uproarious laughter of the Hyur.
She clenched her eyes, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry as she lay on the churned grass, curled up like a worm and rode out the final mini convulsions.
"Shocking... isn't it?"
She felt hands on her, groping her, but she couldn't move. Felt one reach into her pocket and pull out the sundial. She tried to protest, but her throat was still too seized up to do more than grunt like a hog.
"What's this, huh?" he took it out, peering at it in the sun. He lifted the top, exposing the carefully folded up appendages, then started prodding them with thick fingers.
She grunted again, this time managing a feeble reach towards it.
He laughed, prodding her side with his boot. "Liar and thief? Who would have guessed, eh boys?"
She squeezed her eyes shut as the boot struck her harder, skidding her body across the grass.
He laughed hard, and she heard him toss the sundial in the air and catch it.
"Stop."
Petyr's voice broke in somewhere in the midst of her pain and humiliation, causing her to wince and curl up tighter.
"Little chigoe was trying to escape," her gaoler growled, giving her another solid kick.
She heard Petyr crouch near her, his voice soft. "Did you fix my Oculus?"
Chiané grimaced, shaking her head.
"Hm. That's a problem."
She heard him stand. "Bring her back to my tent. I'll deal with her. And Mal, Cris... clean up this mess, huh? Do you want her people to come looking for her?"
"Hmph. Don't bother me much. Less scabs in the Forest, less we have to deal with later..." she heard one mumble under his breath a moment before she was unceremoniously jerked up by both arms and drug back to Petyr's tent, then thrown inside.
She landed in a collapsed heap, skidding several feet across the floor. Something pinched her cheek- one of those missing components. She picked it off with a sigh, noting her hand still had a fine tremor, then closed her eyes, resting her head back onto the ground. She lay there with her eyes closed, once more reviewing her limited options.
Limited being... no options.
She whispered a curse she'd heard one of the clansmen say once. She tried to ignore the mutterings of the Garleans outside. She felt like she was going to throw up.
Several minutes later, she heard another enter.
By the sound of his movement, she knew it to be Petyr even before he spoke.
"What went wrong?"
"Shield," she muttered. "Got in the way."
His voice sounded a bit more amused. "I warned you. But no, I mean the Oculus."
"Lens is cracked. Can't fix that. Think you need a new one."
"You're right." She heard him pick it up, then put it down again with a faint grunt. "You took it apart."
"Had to figure out how it worked."
"The crystal's gone."
She opened one eye, peering at him. "Papá's sundial needed it more."
He smirked down at her. "Did it."
She saw he had the sundial in his possession now and was considering it.
"You have more. I don't know where to get one or how to cut it or fix it to work in the sundial."
"You could ask." He paused, looking down at her. "Irrelevant though, the shield drained it."
She could see the the sundial, once more missing the faint blue glow in the base.
She had the urge to either cry or scream in frustration.
Instead, she grit her teeth, trying to cover it up in a sharp retort.
"Well why would you tell me? You are going to kill me anyway."
He sat down on the chair, peering at her with that same smirk. "Am I?"
She cut him a withering look. "I am not stupid. I can hear what you all are saying out there."
"Hmm... "
He picked the Oculus back up, studying it. "Took this completely apart, did you?"
"I already said I did," she muttered. "... Lost a few pieces in the reassemble. But..." she lifted her hand toward him, the tiny gear stuck to the end of her finger. "Found one."
Petyr arched an eyebrow, carefully picking the component off her finger. "Ah."
She sighed, laying back and staring at the tent over her head.
"What's your name, Chiané? Your... full name?"
"What does it matter?"
"Humor me."
"Why?"
"Why not?"
His tone sounded slightly amused. She shifted her eyes to him. "Because you would hunt down and kill my Clan."
"Or perhaps I wish to sell you back to them."
She snorted derisively. "I am not stupid, we are not rich and you are not interested in acquiring gil anyway..."
Petyr grinned, considering her. "I am always interested in acquiring gil... but, you're right."
He leaned forward, angling his head to the side. "So... the way I see it, we have two choices here. One, I kill you and mount your corpse on a tree as a reminder to others what Garlemald does to spies." He nudged her leg with the toe of his boot, grinning a bit wider.
"Even amusing pipsqueak cave rats."
He paused, glancing down at her. She stared up at him, fighting to keep her face neutral.
"Or... I take you with us."
She blinked, her eyes widening. "W-what? Where?"
He nodded once, setting the Oculus aside. "To Ala Mhigo."
"Why?"
He flashed her a grin coupled with a shrug. "Always wanted a slave."
Her face blanched. "A... slave? What k- I..." She felt her breath pick up and a cold sweat break out across her cheeks. "I- I would make a horrible- I mean, my clan is- is expecting me home an-"
He nodded abruptly. "All the more reason that we should go now."
He stood, extending his hand. "And I do think you will make an excellent slave."
He winked at her. "Now take my hand, Chiané."
"I don't want to be a s-"
"Take my hand and tell me your name."
"No!" She jerked her hand back, scooting back away, her eyes dark.
He leaned down, taking her arm and pulled her up. "You would rather die?"
"No.."
"Then you will come with us."
"I'll hurt you i-if you touch me!" She bared her teeth, glaring at him.
Petyr sighed, sitting back and staring at her. "Chiané. You only have two choices here. Live or die."
She shook her head, her face screwed up in pure hatred. "I... will... not... be... your... slave..."
"Then you will die and never go home again."
"I will never go home again anyway!" She refused to cry, channeling all her emotion into her anger and swallowing her fear.
A shadow shifted across his eyes, then he smiled. "You definitely won't if you're a corpse."
She swallowed, then kicked out, knocking a chair over as she glared at him.
"So what's going to be?" He angled his thumb up, then slowly flipped it downward, gazing at her.
She looked away, setting her jaw.
"Chiané," she heard his voice, low with annoyance several minutes later. "My patience, and this offer, has limits..."
"Fine... I'll go..." she muttered between gritted teeth. She cut him a dark glare of promise, but was smart enough to hold her tongue, then looked back at the tent entrance again.
He straightened up, an immediate smile spreading across his face, his voice once more upbeat and businesslike. "Good! Now, what is your name?"
His hand extended out into her field of vision, urging her to take it. She glanced down at her feet, then up again.
"Chiané... N'-Naevioux." She looked back at him with a slightly narrowed eye as she let him help her stand.
"Hmm..." Petyr nodded once as he reached into his pack and pulled out a small bracelet, then slid it onto her wrist. It tightened to fit snugly, but not uncomfortably so.
She immediately pulled her arm away, her fingers going to the bracelet.
"Stop-gap until we get home. So we can find you if you get..." she grinned faintly, ignoring her attempts at pulling it off. "Lost."
She looked back at him, her brow furrowed in alarm as her last hope for escape was quelled. "I can't. I have to go home. You don't underst-"
His face shifted oddly, his eyes darkening. "I understand perfectly, Dusky," he stated softly. "Now return the tools in your pocket to my toolbox and help me load up the cart. We have a bit to go before we reach the rendezvous site."
He paused, glancing back at her. "And Chiané- It is very important you do exactly as I tell you. Don't make this harder than it need be." He paused, then continued. "No matter what you do, you cannot succeed against the Empire. Resistance... only makes things a lot worse."
