The fool, the lovers, the devil and death - Sorrel
Sept 12, 2021 21:48:04 GMT
Queen Merla, the Sun-Blessed, Jaezred Vandree, and 1 more like this
Post by stephena on Sept 12, 2021 21:48:04 GMT
Sorrel packed up her possessions quickly and quietly. It didn’t take long. She had very few, and she kept most of them in a couple of rucksacks in case she needed to flee at a moment’s notice. Packing meant deactivating traps, sheathing a weapon or two and ensuring all but the final bill settling amount of cash was secreted in a variety of extremely dangerous compartments guaranteed to sever any light fingers.
She moved downstairs so quietly that she barely disturbed the fine layer of bone dust she’d scattered to help monitor any unexpected boots tramping up to the Dragon’s rooms. Halfway down she paused and closed her eyes. Shaleena was on the desk. Sorrel had planned her exit carefully and was certain the alarmingly thrilling redhead would not be working, let alone settling bills. She swallowed and drifted towards the woman who caused her heart so much confusion with a casual smile fixed firmly in place.
“I’m off now,” Sorrel struggled to meet Shaleena’s eyes. “I’ve found a room elsewhere. I like to… keep moving, you know. I wonder if I could settle up? And perhaps we could arrange…”
Shaleena’s face shifted almost imperceptibly as the smile lost any genuine emotion and shutters came down behind her eyes. “Of course, ma’am,” she interrupted Sorrel with a small curtsey. “I will make sure your bill is prepared for you.”
Sorrel reached out to grab her arm, but she was gone. Sorrel cursed softly and slapped her money down. This was not going the way she’d hoped. As Shaleena returned with a carefully folded invoice Sorrel tried to catch her eye.
“Shaleena, it’s been so lovely here, and that’s mainly thanks to you…” she began.
“How nice,” Shaleena swept the coins off the counter and scattered the change in front of Sorrel. “By the way, I found something in your room I’ve been meaning to give you – it’s out the back,” she stood aside and nodded towards the back of the inn.
Sorrel walked down a long, well-scrubbed corridor lined with simple doors. “For the drivers, grooms and stable lads,” Shaleena explained. “Last on the left.”
It was a simple dormitory style room, with two bunk beds, a washbasin on a stand and a low chest of drawers. “Over there,” Shaleena pointed across the room and Sorrel took two steps forward then froze as she heard the key click in the lock.
Sorrel span around just in time to collide with Shaleena’s fist, perfectly thrown with the full force of a woman spent her life lifting barrels and throwing out drunks. It was all Sorrel could do to stay on her feet. As it was, she staggered back, holding her face, her eyes blinking in shock.
“Is this the kind of mind game you get off on?” the redhead spat. “Gaze into my eyes one day, ignore me the next, mumble affectionately when drunk and slip upstairs just when we’re finally talking then ask the staff when I’ll be off so you can scram without facing me? Is it a sweet little boost to your self esteem you’re after or are you just a manipulative arsehole?”
“It’s not that… you are dangerous,” Sorrel leaned against the wall nursing her chin. “To me and, thanks to me, to yourself. Almost everyone important to me has died, usually horribly, sometimes in front of me. When my parents sold me to the House, the Master made swear the Oath of Protection – to keep safe those in my care. And I’m really, really good at it. You have no idea. Except, for what sin I cannot tell, when it matters to me.”
And she told the story of Sana’s death – the creatures from the Shadowfell, the sage who tried to hide her team in some ethereal space, Sana’s proud refusal to seek shelter and how she watched her lover torn to pieces. Sorrel stayed hazy on the details and avoided the story of what happened next – how she hunted down every one of those abominations and made them suffer before they died. She dared not mention the pride she felt as the fear of her name spread amongst creatures who lived to cause terror and pain. She touched on the friends she travelled and fought with and how they fell at her side in the wars she sought and quests she drowned her pain in.
She didn’t describe how every arrow that tore through an enemy’s throat eased her heart for a few more minutes, how she came to crave the kill and how each death closed her soul just a little further down. She didn’t say the final, awful truth – that she was good at it because she learned to enjoy it.
“Eventually I was safe,” she finished. “I had learned to care for no-one. On the last night before the ship sailed for Kantas I visited my parents and they felt like strangers. I spent the night on the temple floor, praying to Selune, and boarded the ship without looking back. And then I walked in her and saw you…” she trailed off and stared at the floor. “You look like her. You even move like her. If I hurt you, it’s because I hate you for making me feel again. I cannot afford to hope. I refuse to fall in love. And I will never stop moving until the goddess comes to find me and carry my soul away.”
Shaleena reached out and lifted Sorrel’s chin, holding her gaze. “Sorrel, I am sorry for your loss. But I am not Sana. I am not some bit part character in your heroic quest. I’m a woman with desires of my own. You think I want to travel around with a rucksack and a sword robbing tombs and charging people for the basic right to stay alive? I have actual plans, not sporadic dreams. Maybe one day this inn will be mine, or maybe I’ll have my own place. I would love to have a partner by then, someone to share it with, to love and build a life with. I hope that will be a normal person. Someone who loves me above the open road… although,” she shook her head. “My track record is not good in that regard.”
She sighed and shrugged. “Frankly I’d settle for someone who can hold a friendly conversation without staring at the floor. Which means the one thing I do not want is an adventurer – especially a retired adventurer. My father was a ‘retired’ adventurer. Every time he left, I had to remind myself – there are three types of adventurer. Those who are working, those who don’t have a job right now and those that are dead. So, I promise you Sorrel, you have never figured in my life plans.”
Then Sorrel saw her shoulders soften and strange light sparkle in her eyes. “But the first time you walked into my inn in your battered leather armour with your haunted soul and hungry eyes, your face set in that fierce expression you use when you’re trying to pretend you’re a heartless killer, I thought to myself – I’m going to fuck her. And the thing you haven’t yet figured out about me is that I always get what I want. Because when you’re this cute, everyone wants to make you happy.”
Sorrel realised she wasn’t breathing. She opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t find a single word. Shaleena stepped towards her, so close that every nerve in Sorrel’s skin was on fire. The redhead raised her right hand and traced the red mark on Sorrel’s cheek, her eyes boring into the ranger’s. Then she raised one eyebrow and gave a half smile. “Always.”
Sorrel’s heart burned in her chest as she silently mouthed the word back to her. “Always?”
Shaleena looked at her, tears in her eyes. “You are an idiot Sorrel Darkfire,” she whispered, and kissed her like the world was about to end.
She moved downstairs so quietly that she barely disturbed the fine layer of bone dust she’d scattered to help monitor any unexpected boots tramping up to the Dragon’s rooms. Halfway down she paused and closed her eyes. Shaleena was on the desk. Sorrel had planned her exit carefully and was certain the alarmingly thrilling redhead would not be working, let alone settling bills. She swallowed and drifted towards the woman who caused her heart so much confusion with a casual smile fixed firmly in place.
“I’m off now,” Sorrel struggled to meet Shaleena’s eyes. “I’ve found a room elsewhere. I like to… keep moving, you know. I wonder if I could settle up? And perhaps we could arrange…”
Shaleena’s face shifted almost imperceptibly as the smile lost any genuine emotion and shutters came down behind her eyes. “Of course, ma’am,” she interrupted Sorrel with a small curtsey. “I will make sure your bill is prepared for you.”
Sorrel reached out to grab her arm, but she was gone. Sorrel cursed softly and slapped her money down. This was not going the way she’d hoped. As Shaleena returned with a carefully folded invoice Sorrel tried to catch her eye.
“Shaleena, it’s been so lovely here, and that’s mainly thanks to you…” she began.
“How nice,” Shaleena swept the coins off the counter and scattered the change in front of Sorrel. “By the way, I found something in your room I’ve been meaning to give you – it’s out the back,” she stood aside and nodded towards the back of the inn.
Sorrel walked down a long, well-scrubbed corridor lined with simple doors. “For the drivers, grooms and stable lads,” Shaleena explained. “Last on the left.”
It was a simple dormitory style room, with two bunk beds, a washbasin on a stand and a low chest of drawers. “Over there,” Shaleena pointed across the room and Sorrel took two steps forward then froze as she heard the key click in the lock.
Sorrel span around just in time to collide with Shaleena’s fist, perfectly thrown with the full force of a woman spent her life lifting barrels and throwing out drunks. It was all Sorrel could do to stay on her feet. As it was, she staggered back, holding her face, her eyes blinking in shock.
“Is this the kind of mind game you get off on?” the redhead spat. “Gaze into my eyes one day, ignore me the next, mumble affectionately when drunk and slip upstairs just when we’re finally talking then ask the staff when I’ll be off so you can scram without facing me? Is it a sweet little boost to your self esteem you’re after or are you just a manipulative arsehole?”
“It’s not that… you are dangerous,” Sorrel leaned against the wall nursing her chin. “To me and, thanks to me, to yourself. Almost everyone important to me has died, usually horribly, sometimes in front of me. When my parents sold me to the House, the Master made swear the Oath of Protection – to keep safe those in my care. And I’m really, really good at it. You have no idea. Except, for what sin I cannot tell, when it matters to me.”
And she told the story of Sana’s death – the creatures from the Shadowfell, the sage who tried to hide her team in some ethereal space, Sana’s proud refusal to seek shelter and how she watched her lover torn to pieces. Sorrel stayed hazy on the details and avoided the story of what happened next – how she hunted down every one of those abominations and made them suffer before they died. She dared not mention the pride she felt as the fear of her name spread amongst creatures who lived to cause terror and pain. She touched on the friends she travelled and fought with and how they fell at her side in the wars she sought and quests she drowned her pain in.
She didn’t describe how every arrow that tore through an enemy’s throat eased her heart for a few more minutes, how she came to crave the kill and how each death closed her soul just a little further down. She didn’t say the final, awful truth – that she was good at it because she learned to enjoy it.
“Eventually I was safe,” she finished. “I had learned to care for no-one. On the last night before the ship sailed for Kantas I visited my parents and they felt like strangers. I spent the night on the temple floor, praying to Selune, and boarded the ship without looking back. And then I walked in her and saw you…” she trailed off and stared at the floor. “You look like her. You even move like her. If I hurt you, it’s because I hate you for making me feel again. I cannot afford to hope. I refuse to fall in love. And I will never stop moving until the goddess comes to find me and carry my soul away.”
Shaleena reached out and lifted Sorrel’s chin, holding her gaze. “Sorrel, I am sorry for your loss. But I am not Sana. I am not some bit part character in your heroic quest. I’m a woman with desires of my own. You think I want to travel around with a rucksack and a sword robbing tombs and charging people for the basic right to stay alive? I have actual plans, not sporadic dreams. Maybe one day this inn will be mine, or maybe I’ll have my own place. I would love to have a partner by then, someone to share it with, to love and build a life with. I hope that will be a normal person. Someone who loves me above the open road… although,” she shook her head. “My track record is not good in that regard.”
She sighed and shrugged. “Frankly I’d settle for someone who can hold a friendly conversation without staring at the floor. Which means the one thing I do not want is an adventurer – especially a retired adventurer. My father was a ‘retired’ adventurer. Every time he left, I had to remind myself – there are three types of adventurer. Those who are working, those who don’t have a job right now and those that are dead. So, I promise you Sorrel, you have never figured in my life plans.”
Then Sorrel saw her shoulders soften and strange light sparkle in her eyes. “But the first time you walked into my inn in your battered leather armour with your haunted soul and hungry eyes, your face set in that fierce expression you use when you’re trying to pretend you’re a heartless killer, I thought to myself – I’m going to fuck her. And the thing you haven’t yet figured out about me is that I always get what I want. Because when you’re this cute, everyone wants to make you happy.”
Sorrel realised she wasn’t breathing. She opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t find a single word. Shaleena stepped towards her, so close that every nerve in Sorrel’s skin was on fire. The redhead raised her right hand and traced the red mark on Sorrel’s cheek, her eyes boring into the ranger’s. Then she raised one eyebrow and gave a half smile. “Always.”
Sorrel’s heart burned in her chest as she silently mouthed the word back to her. “Always?”
Shaleena looked at her, tears in her eyes. “You are an idiot Sorrel Darkfire,” she whispered, and kissed her like the world was about to end.