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Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Printable Version

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Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 09-22-2015

T H R I L L â—† O F â—† T H E â—† H U N T
[ Collection of Short Stories, RP Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan ]


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This is the where I will be curating the short stories I've written, the links to forum RPs that I've participated in, and the occasional journal entries of my character, Jaliqai Qulaan. Subject matter that some may find personally upsetting, such as violence, death, etc., will be marked appropriately and tucked under Spoiler tags. However, if I miss anything that you feel might require a heads up to anyone reading, please feel free to send me a PM or make an OOC post here.

OOC comments and the like are welcomed. However, I'm not actively looking for in-depth critique. Light critique and suggestion are fine, but please don't just pick my writing apart piece-by-piece with a fine-tooth comb. (Trust me, if anyone knows how many wonky sentence structures and switched tenses I have in my writing, it's me! And I'm working on it!)

This second post will serve as a table of contents and will be updated as new content is added.


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RE: Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 09-22-2015

T A B L E â—† O F â—† C O N T E N T S
[ Last Updated on October 5[sup]th[/sup], 2015. ]


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< S H O R T â—† S T O R I E S >

━━━━━━━━⁅ Prey ⁆━━━━━━━━
Jaliqai is called to Ishgard to help an old ally lure out a bounty, a job that gives her cause to
question everything she thought she knew about loyalty to her tribe, to her allies, and to herself.

[ Warnings: Violence, trauma, death, drugging, abduction. Part four, linked offsite to original tumblr post, contains sexually explicit content. ]
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━━━━⁅ Burning of the Dead ⁆━━━━
Flashback. Jaliqai recalls the first time that she ever experienced death
as she puts her fallen tribe mates to rest.

[ Warnings: Death, funerals, and generally sad stuff. ]
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< R O L E P L A Y â—† T H R E A D S >

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< J O U R N A L â—† E N T R I E S >

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RE: Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 09-22-2015

â—† P R E Y â—†
[ Part One of Six ]


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Author Note: So while I was on vacation, I decided to have Jali head up north to Coerthas on a job. While thinking it over, I had an idea of what that job might entail and decided to write it up as a short story for the sake of a character development exercise.

As a disclaimer, this part was written on my iPhone while lying in bed at the cabin. So it’s not my best writing. The rest will be better once I can get home, turn on pandora, and actually type.


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The sideways stares and scornful whispers were nothing that Jaliqai hadn’t experienced before. Ever since she had made the decision to leave Othard alongside the Doman diaspora, she had found herself drawing the gazes of man wary, sometimes hostile Eorzeans. For a time, like many of her kin when they had first arrived, she had taken measures to conceal her Auri features. Yet as time marched on, as her kind became more and more known, she had dropped the concealment and faced the glares head-on. Yet by now, most had become fairly comfortable with the Au Ra.

This place was different. Though the Domans and a handful of Auri had arrived almost a cycle ago, Ishgard’s freshly opened walls held behind them a people who had scarcely known foreigners at all, much less those who bore scaled skin and horns like their most hated of enemies. Jaliqai couldn’t rightly blame them, in a way, for their frigid demeanors and hushed hisses to one another as she passed.

Still, there was something different about the way these men, women, and children leered. Something that hinted at more than just caution and distrust. Hatred. The tension of violence that lie just below the surface, barely contained, threatening to burst forth at any moment. Each step down the ragged remnants of the Brume felt more and more unsafe, that she wasn’t welcomed here.

Movements and shadows caught her eye, someone always lurking just out of sight, following her. Hunting her. Her heart began to beat faster, her nerves raw and on edge. The Forgotten Knight couldn’t be far, could it? All she had to do was get there, to the contact that she was supposed to meet, and she wouldn’t be so uncomfortably exposed and alone. Outnumbered.

Despite the fear trying to edge its way into her mind, the Xaela woman kept her head held up straight, facing forward, her jaw firmly set. Even if someone was following her, she would not give them the pleasure of seeing her panic or setting her to run. She was a proud Qulaani huntress, and a Qulaan would never be another’s prey.

Her steps quickened, if only slightly, boots clicking against the uneven cobblestones. Another shadow moved in a nearby alcove as she passed, nearing the corner. As she turned, she chanced a glance in that direction, only to bump right into something. Something that felt distinctly like a person, that let loose a curse at her. Her golden eyes snapped back forward instantly to the tall, older Elezen man whose words of annoyance went all but ignored.

“Sorry,” she muttered quietly, not even looking the man in the eye or waiting for a response before she tried to move past him.

“Oi! Ye’ should ‘pologize properly t'yer betters.”

Instinctively, the huntress turned around towards the voice, laying eyes on a pair of Hyur men that had come up from behind her. The one in front, whom she had assumed to be the one who had spoke, stood with his chest puffed up and arms crossed. He had a few ilms of height on her, yet he was bony, malnourished. Even with his chest out and back straight, he wasn’t an intimidating man. The man behind him was even less imposing, all gaunt cheek bones and sunken, red eyes.

What did bother her, however, was that every pair of eyes nearby were on them and not a soul seemed likely to intervene on her behalf. In fact, if anything, the lot were likely to jump in to help the two Hyur if it came to blows. She could feel it again, the familiar tension that hung thick in the air just before a fight erupted.

Jaliqai needed to get out of here and get to the Forgotten Knight. Setting her lips into a thin line, she turned to try and walk away. Maybe if she refused to react, they would give up. Yet as she turned, she felt a hand rise up to clamp down firmly on her shoulder.

“Bloody Dravanian whore, listen when I’m speakin’ t'ye!” The first man growled. The words barely registered as the Xaela spun, turning on him with her upper lip curled back in an almost feral snarl. Yet it was the soft glint off of metal from the lanky man behind the first that more raptly captured her attention. A knife being drawn.

Her own hand quickly lowered to one of the daggers sheathed on her hips. Her heart was pounding now with adrenaline. She started to draw her own blade when a sudden, sharp whistle pierced the air. The drawing of steel froze as all heads turned in the direction of the shrill sound echoing down the alleyway.

At the end stood a tall, broad Highlander man, wearing a deep scowl on his lips. Partnered with the deep scars over the left side of his face and the harsh eyes that glared out from under thick brown brows, his was a fierceness that managed to still the lot before the impending violence even began. Jaliqai hadn’t been so relieved to see someone in quite a long time.

“You lot make a habit of drawin’ steel on innocent women?” The man growled out his words in a deep, rough voice. It took a moment for the stunned hyur to answer.

“She were attackin’ this man ‘ere, and–”

“Chocobo shite!” He barked. “Get the fuck out of here before all the yellin’ makes the Knights head over.” When no one moved, the Highlander’s hand fell to the sword hanging at his hip and his voice rose, commanding. “Now!”

Slowly, but surely, the tall, gaunt man let his knife fall back into place, taking a few tentative steps back. He looked to his partner, whose defiant look held out only but a moment longer, before he too backed down with a sullen glare and a grumble. As the two slinked away, the rest of the crowd that had gathered to watch gradually began to look away, busying themselves with something, whispering amongst themselves.

Jaliqai eyed the lot of them until she felt a hand over hers on the knife, gently guiding it downwards, back into its sheath. A deep chuckle of a laugh followed, pulling her eyes back up to the scarred man.

“You too, Red.” He gave her an amused smile as his hand moved to her shoulder, carefully turning her into the direction he had came from.

“I had it under control, Bayard.”

“Sure you did, love. Didn’t doubt you for a second.” He smirked down at her. “Let’s get you to the tavern before you start a godsdamned riot.”

The Xaela opened her mouth to protest, only to close it, stubbornly shrugging his hand off her shoulder to start walking again. He only let out another deep chuckle, shaking his head, following along after her.



RE: Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 09-22-2015

â—† P R E Y â—†
[ Part Two of Six ]


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Author's Note: Part two of what I think will end up being four short parts (Spoiler alert, it ended up being six by the time I finished) total. Also written on my phone in the cramped back seat of the truck on the ride home from vacation, so not the best.

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"Whiskey neat, right?"

Bayard reached around behind Jaliqai to set the glass of dark amber liquor in front of her. Her fingers wrapped around it, a scowl coming to her lips when she noticed the slight trembling in her fingers. The cold, she told herself. Nothing more than the cold. Her grip tightened as she lifted it.

"Right."

"You never change, Red." The man's words held a fond, teasing tone.

"Honestly, I'm just surprised that you still remember how I like my liquor," she mused. "I would think that you would've forgotten by now."

"Ha! I chased bounties with you for how many moons?" The Highlander paused his train of thought. "Five? Six?"

"Almost six, if I remember." A slight hint of a smile came to the Xaela's lips at the memory.

"Right, we spent six moons crackin' skulls together. Like hells I would forget what you'd always drink at the end of the day." His lips split into a wide grin, his dark brown eyes watching her. Gone was the fierce anger that he had laid upon the hecklers in the alley. Now, he was relaxed, content.

His peace put her at ease. It always had. For all his hardness and his ruthlessness with a sword, underneath layers of scars, tanned skin, and taut muscle was a man who had shown her warmth when few others had. One of the first to know what she was, and who looked past her scales and horns to offer her a spot in his band of bounty hunters until she was confident enough in this foreign land to stand on her own. He had always treated her more like an old friend than an unfamiliar addition, asking her questions about her land and peoples with genuine interest, introducing her to the connections she needed in this place, teaching her things about Eorzea.

It had taken her some time to open up to him, but the trust came far easier than she could have anticipated. If there was anyone in this land that she could call a friend, it was this man. Only now, staring at him over the rim of her glass, did she realize just how sharply she had missed him when they had went their separate ways some moons back.

Not allowing herself to dwell long on the memories and emotions, Jali dropped her gaze and tilted up her glass. It wasn't a quarter as fine as the brew at the Blind Viper, the taste not nearly so complex and smooth. It burned all the way down the back of her throat, down into the pit of her stomach. Yet in this frigid land where the cold seeped into your bones and clung tightly to them, it was perfect, warming her from the inside out.

"So," she began, clearing her throat. "You called me for business?" Her glass lowered, replaced by a somewhat amused smirk. "You had a mark you're having trouble tracking?"

The man made an annoyed face, frowning down into his own glass. She couldn't help but let out a soft, low chuckle.

"Now I'm intrigued. I shudder to think what sort of mark could force Bayard Bronzeblade to have to call in reinforcements." She leaned in, including her glass towards the hunting knife sheathed in leather at the man's hip. It was his claim to notoriety in the bounty hunting world, the unimpressive knife that he had used to subdue a mark cycles ago that many others had tried their hands at and failed. "That knife of yours isn't getting dull, is it?"

"Bah! Like I would let a single blade of mine go without sharpenin'. No, the problem with this shite is findin' him to begin with." He shook his head. "I've been on this bastard's trail for a moon now, and seen neither hide nor hair of him."

Jaliqai's lips slowly pulled into a grin. These were the hunts that she loved, where the marks were hard to coax out of hiding. Finding the trail and pinning her prey down had always been her specialty, which was likely why she and Bayard had worked so well together. For all his brutish brawn, he lacked the same finesse and cunning that she did. He could brawl far better than she, but she could always find their marks whenever he was at a loss.

"Fair enough. What sort of leads you have, then?" She set her glass down, intently focused on the other.

"For the last couple moons, there's been a lot that have been playin' at bandits in the mountains, robbin' caravans and causin' all sorts of trouble for the villages." Bayard paused to eye the Xaela across the table from him. "Wouldn't be half so bad, save for the fact that he's taken up the hobby of snatchin' up the women, too."

Immediately, the Au Ra's smile began to fade. The amusement drained from her face, replaced by a coldness that matched the crisp Coerthan air.

"Slavers?" she asked, lip curling at the word. The man shook his head.

"As far as anyone can tell, no." Bayard lifted a hand, rubbing lightly at the back of his neck. "And that's the problem. If they were movin' around the flesh trade, they'd be easier to track. But by the looks of it, Ghost and his crew are just collectors of pretty lasses."

"Ghost?"

"Aye, that's what they took to callin' him. He's quiet as the dead, makes his hits fast and silent. He's in and out before anyone knows it. Not to mention that not a damned soul knows who he really is. Even if they did, it'd be hard to convince these Ishgardians to give up what they know."

The Auri woman leaned back in her chair, golden eyes falling down to her glass, silent as she thought it over. He glanced at her, watching for a moment before his brows furrowed.

"Not goin' to say 'no', are you, Red?" He leaned in to look more closely at her. She glanced back up to him, shaking her head.

"A Qulaan never turns down a good hunt, but I have to wonder.. Why ask me?"

The man seemed confused by her question, straightening up in his seat once again to level the perplexed look at her. "Because you're the best godsdamned tracker I've ever worked with."

"No. I mean, you saw those people out there. They bloody well hate me, like I was a dragon myself." She frowned deeply. "If the only leads I have to go off of are whispers, what makes you think any of these Ishgardians will talk to me? Especially if they won't even talk to you. They'd sooner spit in my face."

Once again, the Highlander was quiet as he looked her over. There was something in the way he watched her that suggested thought, maybe even a hint of worry. Yet she stayed quiet, letting him have time to work out what he wished to say.

"Red.. I've a plan. Just hear me out before you tell me to sod off, alright?" Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded, a slow and carefully measured gesture. "Ghost's lot have been makin' their way across a line of villages, and if the rumors I've heard have any truth to them, we know where they'll be in a few suns' time."

"If you know that much, then why do you even need me?" Jaliqai's brows furrowed.

"Because this ain't the first time me and my own have tried to cut him off. They call him Ghost for a reason, love." He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Bastard has earned it. We had him right in our palm, but never saw him. We thought the information was bad, until we woke the next mornin' to stolen goods and stolen lasses besides."

"And the part where you need me...?"

"Just listen, eh?" He opened his mouth to continue and once again stopped short to regard her cautiously. Her lips pulled into a scowl.

"Are you gonna bloody well tell me your plan or not?"

"Alright, alright.. The last few women he's taken have been Auri. We reckon he's taken a fancy to your kind. My plan was to have you lure him out to--"

"No." The huntress looked almost disgusted as she stared at him, her voice bearing the weight of every onze of cold steel in that single word. Her upper lip curled back over her teeth. "I will not be another person's prey, Bayard."

"You wouldn't be prey. You just--"

"You know how I feel about this. I won't do it."

"Red, please, just hear me out. We've got to lure this bastard out somehow, yeah? We know where he's goin' to be, and we know he fancies himself some Au Ra. And just so happens, you're the only one I know that's twice as good with a blade as she is beautiful." His look softened as he stared at her across the table. "You won't be no one's prey, love. I won't let him lay a finger on you. I'll be skulkin' around after you, and as soon as he thinks to try and make off with you, I'll have my knife at his neck."

Jaliqai stared at him long and hard, glaring, trying to steel her resolve. She had told him once, long ago, that she would never allow herself to serve as bait in a trap. She was the predator, the hunter. Not the quarry. At the time, she hadn't trusted any of them half as much as she had grown to trust Bayard. She hadn't told them of what had happened to her in Othard, to the Qulaani who had survived the Garlean attack that spelled the end of their tribe. How they had been hunted, captured.. It was a memory that she had always pushed to the back of her mind, trying to make it disappear.

Yet the man had a point. Someone as smooth as Ghost would likely go on uncaught for many moons yet if not lured into a trap, and it was a decent plan besides. Bayard wouldn't allow anyone to do that to her. He was a strong, capable, experienced fighter. Stronger than even some of the Qulaani she had known and grown up alongside. And of all the people she had met in Eorzea, she trusted none half as deeply as she trusted him.

"...Fine." She breathed out a long sigh. "I'll bloody do it, just this once. Alright?"

Bayard let out a surprised, yet cheerful bark of a laugh, clapping his left hand down upon the wooden table. Several other patrons looked over at the noise before returning to their own conversations. The grin wouldn't disappear from her old partner's face.

"We'll leave tomorrow, then. Get a head start, scout out the area, and familiarize ourselves with the land." He paused, then reached out to clasp one of his large hands over her forearm. She could feel the roughness of his calloused skin, his strength. But more than that, she could feel the gentleness and warmth, his thumb stroking fondly over the soft skin of her inner arm. "Thank you, Red. I swear, I would throw myself on my own sword before I let any harm come to you."

Redness and heat began to creep up to her cheeks before she could stop them, her heart beating a little faster. Yet when she realized it, she coughed, pulling her arm away to cover her mouth, then dropped it back down to her side out of reach. He let out a chuckle.

"Let's get some sleep. It's a long trip out to the village." Bayard pushed his chair back, standing. "I'll pay for the room."

"I can pay for my own room."

"What I meant," he began in a deep drawl, brown eyes watching her, the corners of his lips pulling up into a handsome smirk, "was that we could share one."

"No." Her answer was quick. Perhaps too quick. His drawling turned to a deep laugh that rumbled up from his chest. He lifted his hands up in a motion of surrender, turning to start towards the innkeep.

"You really don't change, do you?"



RE: Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 09-22-2015

â—† P R E Y â—†
[ Part Three of Six ]


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Author’s Note: Part three of four now five six. And I will put this TRIGGER WARNING OF VIOLENCE, DEATH, AND EMOTIONAL TRAUMA here for those sensitive to such things.

If you're interested in learning a bit more about the Qulaan tribe and what became of them, Jali's past specifically, and what her hang-ups with romance and sex are (and you're not sensitive to the above triggers), click to read under the spoiler tag.


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[ Warnings: Mention of violence, slight gore, emotional trauma, death, and general feels under the spoiler. ]

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RE: Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 09-22-2015

â—† P R E Y â—†
[ Part Four of Six ]


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Author’s Note: Part four of five six, and almost done we are! Likewise, time to throw up another NSFW WARNING because oh god I wrote a sexy thing.

There's actually emotional and character development wrapped up in all of this, so it's not just smut written for smut's sake. I honestly could have just handwaved the romping around between the sheets, but instead I decided to write it out as both a character development exercise and a personal challenge, because I honestly consider intimate scenes to be one of my weakest types of writing.

So if sex doesn't bother you and you're willing to accept that my writing of adult material is sometimes questionable at best, click the spoiler tag to take you to the original post on Tumblr.


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[ Warnings: Explicit sexual content. ]

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RE: Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 09-22-2015

â—† P R E Y â—†
[ Part Five of Six ]


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Author's Note: So uh. You know how I said there were four parts? And then I said there were five parts? Well, now there's six parts, because I keep writing way more than I originally intended. Whoops. I swear I'm almost done, though!

Last part of this story should be somewhat shorter. I originally was going to make it part of this one, but this ended up being too long on its own.

This part has another TRIGGER WARNING for abduction. If that doesn't bother you, click the spoiler tag to read!


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[ Warnings: Drugging, abduction. ]

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RE: Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 09-22-2015

â—† P R E Y â—†
[ Part Six of Six ]


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Author's Note: Really it's done this time I swear. It's been super fun to write, and I'm so glad that I didn't just handwave this job. But I'm also glad to be done, so I can go back to devoting all my attention to RP in-game. D:

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Most times when she crawled into bed of an evening, Jaliqai was blessed with a sleep free of dreams. If visions did come to her when she closed her eyes, the lion's share were of the standard surreal, non-sensical fare that she scarce remembered when she woke up. Only rarely was she haunted anymore by the ghosts of her tribe and their end in her sleep.

Yet when the nightmares came, they came upon her with such a vivid, horrible ferocity and realness that was nigh maddening. Memories kept fresh from years of rumination upon them, worsened by guilt. But always the same, a recurring horror ever unchanging.

Warcries, screams, the discharge of magitek weapons. The panic and terror that she had felt, seeing her tribemates fall around her, some cut down and others riddled with holes. Dead everywhere. So much blood.

The battle -- no, massacre -- always seemed to rage on for an eternity in her dreams. It couldn't have truly been that long, could it? No, no.. She watched the same people die over and over again, though their faces were a blur. Their names unknown. Such was the chaos of battle.

Blackness pulled at the edges of her vision, everything disappearing again as it was wont to do as the horrifically familiar dream marched on. Giving way into the darkness of the caravan she had found herself loaded into. The groans of pain and dying around her. The smell of death hanging thick in the air, the gentle sway of the motion of being hauled away to some fate that she had never known.

Yet the dream was changing now. Groans and cries slowly begun to shift into murmured conversation. Laughter that seemed to come from malms and malms away. Feminine voices whispering to one another. A coldness that she hadn't remembered. Instead of the hard floor, her cheek was resting on something smooth, soft. Furs.

Confused and disoriented, Jaliqai slowly began to bat her eyes open, only to find them staring across the floor into eyes that stared right back at her. So light in color, silvery blue, surrounded by dark lashes and darker skin. Wide, unblinking. Devoid of light. Glossed over with death.

"Ch-Chakha.." the Auri woman choked out, voice rough and thick, as the memory hit her hard in the chest. She was still only half there, not fully woken yet not quite asleep, and the panic preyed upon her without reprieve.

She tried to move, her body weak and shaking with the effort, letting out a distressed sound. She had to get to her. Her friend.

She struggled for a moment longer before she felt arms come around her, pulling her back into them, someone holding her against their broad chest. Hands stroking her back. Only then did she hear the low, murmured voice of a man, cooing to her. Reassuring her. A voice whose familiarity returned to her as the drug's effects began to release their grip upon her.

"It's alright, Red," Bayard murmured, pulling her into his lap, seeming even more petite in her current state as she leaned up against him.

Time passed. She wasn't sure how much. Minutes? Bells? All she knew was that she was slowly, so slowly, regaining control of her faculties.

"Nnh.. Fuck." She groaned the word, eyes squeezing shut. Her head was pounding, throbbing. A hand rose to press against her forehead, as if trying to make it stop.

"You're awake," the Highlander breathed out, relief in his voice, a hint of forced humor. "Bloody well thought you were plannin' on sleepin' all the way back to Ishgard."

A drowsy moan of pain was all she could manage. He shifted slightly beneath her, reaching across the back of the wagon to his pack. From it, he tugged out a waterskin, pulling off the cap and carefully holding it up to her lips. She let out a cough at the first swallow before returning to it, slowly swallowing mouthful after meager mouthful, soothing her dry, irritated throat.

With the water, her mind cleared further. Her eyes opened to look up at the man, gaze finally starting to regain its focus.

"We're headed back to Ishgard..?" she asked slowly, confusion on her face. "What happened..?"

"We followed Ghost and his men back to their hidin' place, where they kept all their goods and the women they'd made off with." Bayard's expression seemed proud, grinning from ear to ear. "Went exactly as I planned it to. Though I admit, wasn't plannin' on Ghost bein' the poisonin' type. Sorry about that, love."

The words brought back the last memories, vague as they were, from before she faded out of consciousness. The fear she felt as she stared at the man, unable to move or speak, staring into his eyes as she waited for him to come save her. A rescue promised, but not delivered.

"Anyroad, we've got the women and the stolen goods loaded up now. When we bring them back to their rightful places, we'll be bloody rich." He let out a laugh. "Fleece those bastards for returnin' their baubles and their women home to them, and claim the bounty besides." He jerked his chin towards the other side of the carriage, and the Au Ra's eyes followed.

Where she had once saw the wide, unseeing eyes of the friend she had lost was the body of Ghost. Dead. Dark red blood blossomed out from a wound in his side, a small pool of it beneath where he lie. Somehow, his dark grey skin seemed oddly pale.

"Disappointin' though." Bayard's voice brought her gaze back to him. "Figured some notorious bandits would put up more of a fight than they did. Turns out Ghost wasn't anythin' but talk and tricks."

Jaliqai murmured something, words so soft that they didn't quite reach the man's ears. He looked down to her, brows furrowed.

"Hm? What's that?"

"You.. let him take me.."

He stared down at her quietly, amusement and mirth draining away. Replaced by something closer to guilt. Bayard was quiet for a long moment, as if thinking over his words.

"Red.." He began, voice cautious and imploring. "We had to find where his hideout was. We had to rescue the women, the goods.. If we had just captured him, the bastard wouldn't have talked." He reached up to cup her cheek in his hand.

"You promised me." She stubbornly turned her head away from his touch, not filtering any of the pain and anger that crept into her voice. The slight tremble, the emotion. Every onze of betrayal that she felt.

"I'm sorry, love. But you know I wouldn't have let him hurt you." He reached down to her wrist where the wristband remained, brushing his fingers over the stone.

Pulling back from it, his hand instead went to the collar of his shirt, reaching under it and pulling out a braided leather necklace hidden there. At the end hung a smooth gemstone, the same yellow-gold as her own.

"Some sort of magical trackin' gems. One always pulls in the direction of the other. They're cut from the same stone. Aether-somethin'-or-other. The fellow that I bought them from tried explainin' the details to mean, but hells if I understood. I was just interested in knowin' that they would work, so it would guide me to you once he took you." He let the necklace drop back down against his chest. "You wasn't alone. I was with you, the whole time, see? Just like I said."

"No you weren't,” she hissed, glaring up at him. "Why? Why didn't you tell me what your plan was to begin with?"

He was quiet again, and that guilty look returned to him. The look of a man who knew what he had done. Still, he tried to defend himself.

"I knew you wouldn't agree to it, and you were the only one I knew and trusted enough to make the plan work, Red. I had to." He let out a deep sigh. "And I knew you could take care of yourself, if push came to shove."

"If it all went to shite, you mean," she spat, glaring cold, hurt fury at him. "Can't bloody well handle myself very well when someone slips poison down my throat, can I?!"

"I said that I didn't know he was a poisoner!" He snapped back, defensive. "How in the seven bloody hells was I supposed to know that, Red?! And why in the hells did you take a stranger's drink to begin--"

Spurred by anger and finally in enough control of herself again to move, she reached up, swinging her hand hard and flat against the man's cheek with a snarl. Stunned by the reaction, all he could do was stare at her in wide-eyed surprised, letting her crawl her way out of his lap without protest.

"Don't you bloody well blame this on me, Bayard!" she screeched. "What if you had mucked it up? What if the damned stones didn't work? What if he had hurt me somehow before you could get to me?!"

His mouth opened to reply, trying to form words, before shutting entirely. He was at a loss.

"I didn't think--" He began slowly, only to be raptly cut off by the Xaela.

"That's right! You didn't think!" She was disgusted. Setting down on the bench opposite of him, she rested her elbows on her knees, putting her head in her hands. Her scale-covered tail hung over the side of her seat, lashing angrily against the wood.

Minutes of long, tense silence fell between them as Jaliqai worked to try and calm herself down. To try and get her mind off the sick feeling in her stomach, both from the gross misplacement of her trust and the side effects of whatever Ghost had given to her. At least Bayard had the good sense to keep quiet.

Just when she had thought she had calmed again, she opened her eyes, looking to the wristband. Just the sight of it was like a brand new knife buried in her chest. She had been so happy to get that gift, so amused by the way Bayard seemed so nervous to give it to her. Now she knew why. It wasn't a gift. It was a lie, part of his oh-so-clever plan to use her.

His promises had been lies. His gifts had been lies. Were the rest lies, too? The adorations that he had given her, the night they had shared? I think I could get used to this, he had said. Was that a lie, too?

Angry all over again, she reached down, roughly undoing the clasps on the wristband to throw it at him, none too gently. He made a noise of surprise, fumbling to catch it, looking over to her.

"Red--"

"When we get to Ishgard, I never want to see your bloody face again." The words hurt to say, but not nearly so painful as the squeezing inside her chest. The betrayal. "Don't come near me. Don't contact me. Find yourself a new fucking tracker that doesn't care to be used like a pawn in your shite plans."

He stared at her from across the carriage. The look he leveled on her seemed to be one of genuine distraught. Hurt, regret. But then again, his promises had all seemed so real to her, too. She couldn't trust this man. Not any more.

"Look, I know I fucked up," he began, voice unsure. Not the same confidence that she was used to hearing in his voice. "Just don't leave. I'll make it up to you, I swear." She looked away, unable to look at him. Steeling her resolve. When it didn't seem to work, he slowly spoke again. "Red, I.. I've heard some rumors. Some friends that claim to have come across Qulaani hunters in Eorzea."

Her gaze instantly snapped back to him as the air seemed to leave her lungs all at once. Seeming to think that he was finally headed back in the right direction, he continued.

"We could get in touch with those friends of mine. I could take you to them, and we can look into it. If they're out there, we'll find them, yeah?"

"You're lying," Jaliqai snapped. "Lying."

"I swear it, Red. I'll help you find them, if we have to chase them across Eorzea. To the ends of Hydaelyn. Anythin' to make it up to you."

For a moment, she almost allowed the weakness in again. The trust, promises, sweet words of affection. Only then did the realization hit her.

"If it's true.." She sucked in a deep, trembling breath as she stared at him. "You knew.. all this time.." At first, he didn't seem to understand. But when he did, his eyes widened slightly. She pressed on. "And you didn't say a word to me about it! You let me keep believing that my bloody family was all dead!"

No attempt to defend himself came this time. He knew his mistake. He knew what he had done. And he knew that there was no way to fix this. The Highlander dropped his head, staring downwards.

"All you wanted was a warm body in your bed," she snapped. "And you knew that if I knew, I wouldn't have--" The Xaela choked on the word slightly, emotion rising up hot and raw in the back of her throat, moisture at her eyes. Guilt washed over her. When she continued, her voice was much smaller. "You knew that I wouldn't have chosen you over them."

Silence returned between them. She felt awful, stricken by such guilt and shame at the thought of what she had done. What she had allowed herself to feel for this man. How could she have believed him? She knew better. She was stupid. So stupid.

"Once we get back to Ishgard, and you get your reward, I'll leave you be," Bayard sighed.

"No," she answered sharply. "Keep your bloody coin. It was obviously worth much more to you than I was." He flinched at the accusation. "Never seeing you again will be reward enough for me."

She glared at him, long and hard, before her eyes fell down to Ghost. Where he lie dead against the carriage floor. It seemed almost ironic now, how nervous she had been to allow herself to be hunted by this man.

Yet little had she known that she had actually been the prey of a man much worse, ten times as cruel, the entire time. A man who knew all of her weaknesses because she had trusted him enough to tell him. Whom she had trusted to never use them against her. A man whom she had thought could be her family one day.

Never again.



RE: Thrill of the Hunt -- [Stories, Threads, and Journals of Jaliqai Qulaan] - Jaliqai - 10-05-2015

â—† BURNING OF THE DEAD â—†
[ Flashback ]


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Author Note: I love writing feels. Especially negative, dramatic feels. Pair this with an awesome song that I stumbled across, and you've the recipe for a flashback of Jaliqai putting her dead to rest all those years ago.

That said, consider this a TRIGGER WARNING for death, funerals, and just generally sad feelsy stuff. If you're cool with that, the story is under the spoiler!


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[ Warnings: Death, funerals, and general sad themes. ]

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