â—† P R E Y â—†
[ Part Six of Six ]
[ Part Six of Six ]
â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â… â€¹ ⧫ › â†â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”
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:
â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â… â€¹ ⧫ › â†â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”â”
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.
