Private Tales Dangerous Ground

[Cillian]

"Aye FrauFrau 'ere would love ye apple," Cillian chuckled as he settled into his position at the front of the Wagon. Jacob was fiddling with the reins and tossing them against the horses back in an effort to get her to move though she showed no signs of budging whilst an apple was nearby. His attention however was on Sierra. Her tone suggested she wasn't overly impressed with the idea and he wondered if he had stepped on some toes. Did she have a husband at home? He wouldn't have been surprised.

Cilli cleared his throat a little.

"Aye, well I'm sure we will figure it out," he held out a hand to help the pair up into the wagon and then took the reins from Jacob who he showed how to properly make the horse trot on. "Perhaps we're vistin' family in Aliiria."

 

[Sierra]

Sierra felt his emotions waver but she forced herself to pull back her magic. She’d done it with her friends, too. She never wanted them to think she was using it against them.

“I was just trying to get used to nicknames,” she said quietly. Hal used to call her ‘dear.’ She couldn’t remember what she used to call him. “I think we should say we’re from Alliria if you know enough about the city. I grew up in Vel Anir.” She rubbed at the back of her neck. “That’ll explain my accent. I think it’ll draw more attention to us if we say we’re from and live in Vel Anir considering you’re,” a delicate clear of her throat. “Not human.”

Sierra glanced down at the weapons that littered her form.

“Perhaps I should stash some of these.” Because they couldn’t follow the river, they’d have to go back to one of the main roads. She didn’t think an ordinary trades woman traveling with her family and husband would have so many weapons.

 

[Cillian]

Cillian ran a hand thoughtfully through his beard as he mulled over her suggestions.

"Aye, I can be from Alliria, or at least be livin' there. So we were visitin' your folks whilst tradin' in the city?" he raised a brow and let the lad keep the reins. He was enjoying it but the truth was FrauFrau wouldn't listen to anyone other than him. She was as stubborn as a mule over things like that and she could always tell, though he was never really sure how. Perhaps it was just the fact she had been with him since her mother, his horse before her, had given birth.

"Well ye might as well get aquainted with wha' it is I sell, lassie," he motioned to the carefully sealed trunks of shoes. They weren't locked so Sierra would be able to look through them and inspect his work. "An' I am definitely no' a 'dear' kinda guy. We should try..." he gave Jacob a wink "Sexy, or dashin'. Charmin', even," he smirked.

 

[Sierra]

“Yes, visiting my disapproving folks,” a fleeting, rueful smile in the man’s direction. “Would you like to see too, Kristine?” The little girl nodded and Sierra helped her into the back of the cart.

Sierra couldn’t help the small eye roll at his explanation. Jacob snickered and cupped his chin with one hand and batted his eyes. “Mister Hero. Mister daaaaaaashing.” Kristine blushed.

“Oh?” Sierra asked innocently, looking down into the first trunk as she opened it. “You think you’re charming, hm?” Kristine gasped, her little hands going into the trunk, bringing out a beautiful red-gemmed slipper.

“These are the shoes a princess would wear.” A big smile lit up her face as she sat down to try it on, wobbling in the cart as they took a small turn. Of course the shoe was a few sizes too big but Sierra couldn’t help but smile too as she felt the girl’s happiness radiate over in waves.

 

[Cillian]

Cillian couldn't help join in with Jacob's snickering. Unlike Jacob, however, he knew when to stop.

"Oh I'm definitely charmin', darlin' - which is your nickname by the way. A' least, tae one I would use in public," he chuckled then glanced over his shoulder to where Kristine was busy trying on different shoes. He gave her a low whistle. "They suit ye lassie, I'll 'ave to make ye a pair smaller for ye feet, eh?" he smiled and then turned his attention back to the road and the question of their story.

"We should probably switch all our names up a bit too, what do ye wanna be called Master Jacob?" he glanced down to the lad beside him. Jacob screwed his face up as he thought about it long and hard.

"Lancelot!"

 

[Sierra]

The shoes were lovely. Things Sierra would never buy since she dipped to the far more practical side. Boots for battle, trekking, and hunting. So far she hadn’t been forced to go on any missions as some undercover noblewoman. Perhaps then. Still. Sierra could well imagine Rose reacting to the shoes as Kristine did.

A single brow lifted in Cillian’s direction. “Are there to be others in private, then?” She shrugged off her bandolier of knives and carefully folded and stashed them toward the bottom of one of his trunks. Kristine was more than ecstatic at the idea that he would make a pair just for her.

“Gods help us,” Sierra muttered quietly at Jacob’s chosen name. Sierra helped Kristine put the shoes back before settling back up front with the boys.

“What about you, Kristine?”

She gave a small, impish smile. “Princess Fiona!”

Sierra ruffled the girl’s hair. “Perhaps just Fiona for now and princess at camp. And you?” Sierra looked to Mister Sexy himself.

 

[Cillian]

Cillian was still chuckling over Jacob - Lancelot's - name when Kristine announced hers and he chuckled some more.

"It seems that we 'ave a thing for fairtales, darlin'," he smiled. For some reason it felt right, though. Sierra, whilst she might have been a Dreadlord, didn't strike him as such. Not really. And the things she was trying to do when it came to helping the kids who might otherwise become mindless drones in a violent army. She was a little bit like a fairy godmother and every good story had a leprechaun. At least, in his mind.

"I'll be Conor, Conor O'Mailey and you will be...?" he glanced towards her.

 

[Sierra]

There was something about his laugh. It was warm and carefree. It seemed so easy for him to laugh and she found herself mildly envious. And at the same time, she was grateful he was here. The children adored him. He was making their journey safer. And maybe he, along with Rose, were helping her to find her smile again since Hal disappeared.

Sierra’s lips parted but Jacob cut in, “How about Guinevere but Gwen for short?”

A shrug as she looked to Cillian over jacobs proud and excited smile. “Gwen it is. Gwen O’Mailey.”

Jacob’s grin widened and nudged Kristine over. “But you two should sit together. Let dad put his arm around you.”

Oh stars.

“Jacob. I mean. Lancelot. I don’t think...,” Sierra paused as she looked down the road. There was a wagon blocking it with a broken axel. Several men about and a few horses. She stiffened.

 

[Cillian]

"Gwen," Cillian gave a lopsided smile as he thought about the Queen in the legend of Excalibur. It was rather fitting. She too had tried to bring change to her lands and faced dangerous odds in order to do it. Eyes the colour of a dying sun moved from its careful study of her face to what had made her suddenly break off mid-sentence. There wasn't much way around the cart and so Cilli was forced to slowly bring FrauFrau to a stop. She stomped her hoof impatiently and he handed the reins back to Lance.

"Stay in the wagon kids," his voice was calm but he cast Sierra a more meaningful look before standing and jumping down from the wagon. His boots squelched into the churned up mud and made a series of unpleasant noises as he made his way over to the huddle of men. He rubbed his fingers together and blew a little warmth into them as he went.

"D'ye need a hand in movin' 'er off tae road lads?" he motioned to the broken cart.

 

[Sierra]

A subtle nod of her chin. She wasn’t sensing harmless travelers in need of help. It was all a little too convenient. “Fiona,” Sierra whispered down to the girl. “I want you to sit with Lance okay. No matter what, stay here.”

Sierra nudged some reassuring emotions to the two children just enough to take off the edge of worry and fear that was growing in both of them. Before Sierra could make it down from the cart, three of the men whipped off their cloaks and unsheathed swords.

“Yeah ye can help. Give us all yer goddamned coin and we’ll let ye on yer way.”

The second in the back spat.

“Hurry up.”

Sierra frowned. Thugs on a main road this close to Vel Anir? What happened to the patrols?

 

[Cillian]

Despite the naked blades Cillian didn't look at all fussed. He blew into his hands again nice and slow and looked the group over with a critical and careful eye. He would have been a poor tradesman if he gave his money away to thugs like these all the time. But he didn't usually have kids with him on the road and his own life was a far lesser price to pay for a mistake than theirs would be.

"We dinnae 'Ave much lads, I just picked up stock in Vel'Anir unless ye want some pretty slippers for ladies," he cast a doubtful look at their feet. "But I can see ye are down on your luck..." he patted down his coat theatrically and then made a show of finding a small purse which he tossed to the first brute.

As soon as the mans hands closed around the bag it erupted. A swarm of dreaded Lycoft Wasps erupted from the bag and began to swarm around the men. Their sting could paralysis a man but multiple would kill.

 

[Sierra]

Greedy eyes turned panic as they cursed and screamed, swatting at the air and running around. But there was a fourth who popped up from a cover they’d set up. Just off the road. Sierra had felt him. As he raised his crossbow aimed at Cillian’s chest, Sierra loosed an arrow in one fluid movement from her bow.

They’d said she was the best shot in her class.

He was dead before he hit the ground. Still managed to get the bolt off but it went wide, burying itself into one of the other thug’s rear cheek. He cursed and screamed and Sierra really wished she’d plugged the children’s ears up in that moment.

She only lowered her bow when she made sure there were no others lying in wait. Stepping up to one side of their derelict cart, she looked to Cillian to get the other end. They still had to clear the road.

Hopefully that was all of them.

 

[Cillian]

"Nice shot, darlin'" Cilli complimented as he stepped over one of the bodies. His face was covered in great, red, oozing boils caused by the sting and his body was limp with the cold chill of death. Cillian paid him no more than a curious glance to see how well his Wasps had done before grabbing the other end of the cart. On the count of three they lifted it and carried it over to the side of the road. With that done the leprechaun began to drag the bodies off the road too.

"Remind me not ta get on ye bad side," he said uneasily, looking at the man with the arrow in his butt before making his way back to the wagon. "You kids okay?"

 

[Sierra]

Sierra grimaced as she looked over the ones with the boils. She’d seen worse. But still.

“Yeah, well. Same goes for me, Sexy.” An inward groan and a small twitch of her lips when she said it. She supposed his new nickname for her was better than duchess.

Kristine had her face buried within Jacob’s shoulder. Eyes still tightly closed. Jacob broke free though and leapt up from his seat. “OHMYSTARSthatwasthe most AMAZINGESTthing I ever saw. You just and buzz buzz and then she peow peow!” He pumped his small fist into the air.

Sierra trudged off the road and plucked her arrow free from the hidden man, cleaning it on the grass before sliding it back into the quiver. She felt the fear and shock tremble through Kristine as the little girl opened her eyes long before she began to cry.

“Oh hell,” Sierra muttered, sending soothing emotions toward the girl. And she found herself looking to Cillian. Those golden eyes of his always softened. Were always kind when it came to these two. And he certainly had a way with them. She found herself grateful to share the burden for a change.

 

[Cillian]

"Oh hells," Cillian echoed under his breath when Kristine began to cry. He had hoped it wouldn't be that disturbing but he supposed for a tot who was barely out of her first year it would seem like one of the most horrific things in the world. It broke his heart to wonder how she would have fared in the Academy where this would have been the mere introduction to the horrors of war. He threw Sierra an apologetic look.

"Hey now, 'ey Princess," he strode over to the wagon, tasselled Jacob's hair and gave him a sneaky hi-five, before scooping the young girl up in his arms. One large hand rubbed against her back and he gently rocked her against him. "Princess Fiona dinnae cry when the troll was killed did she now? Those were very bad men who would 'ave hurt other families. T'at's no' very nice now is it?" he asked softly. Kristine calmed a little and shook her head.

"Aye t'at's right, lassie. An' now ye can say ye've been a part of an epic heroes quest, won' t'at be summin' to tell ye mam about when she comes tae see you, hmm? Princess Fiona, slayer of evil, champion of the people. I can 'ear 'em cheerin' for ye now, Kris-tine, Kris-tine," he mock cheered.

 

[Sierra]

Tiny balled up fists rubbed across her eyes one more time. “Kristine,” she whispered. And sniffled. She didn’t quite smile but she stopped crying. Sierra continued to take the edge off the girl’s shock and fear. With Cillian holding her, there was far less to handle.

Sierra pulled herself up on the cart and nudged Jacob with her knee. She kept her bow next to her lap. She wasn’t taking any chances now. Hopefully they’d get a reprieve.

“Kristine. I mean Princess Fiona you’ll be safe between Cillian and I. Jacob too. I promise. Do you want to go look at those pretty shoes again?” She gave a timid nod and Sierra set the girl down in the back of the cart. Sierra brushed her hand on Cillian’s arm.

“Thank you.” She took a breath. “For everything.”

 

[Cillian]

"Ah, tis nuffin' Duchess," Cillian rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and watched Kristine as she tottered her way back to one of the chests. She would find all sorts of shoes in that one, he thought in amusement to himself. His most extravagant customers lived in Alliria and their eclectic taste was mirrored in every detail of the shoes he made for them. He looked back to Sierra with a disarming lopside smile. "My sister's lil ones were just tae same."

And with that little titbit of information he stepped back up onto the Wagon's driving seat and took the reins from Jacob. FrauFrau was off with a gentle click and soon the scene was far behind them on the forest path.

"Tis a lil concernin' there are no guards around 'ere," he murmured with a small frown. This close to Vel Anir he hadn't expected bandits to try a ploy like that.

 

[Sierra]

“It is,” Sierra readily agreed, eyes continually scanning their surroundings even with that set up long behind them. They’d already had an eventful day and a half. “I always thought the patrols and guards were the biggest problem with getting kids like them out. Now I can see I was greatly mistaken.”

The dread lord looked to Cillian, a crooked smile on her lips. “Unless we just have bad luck.”
There was one guardsman she could trust. And she knew she could trust Talus. Perhaps Zana by association to her friend. She’d have to have a chat with one of them when she got back. Maybe start with Landon.

“You mentioned your family. Are you close with them? Do you get to see them often?” Family was such a foreign concept to Sierra. She hadn’t seen hers since the authorities had come to collect her as a child. She didn’t even know if they were alive. She’d been taught to forget them. And with Hal....her only family now really was Rose.

 

[Cillian]

"I was, once," he grimaced. His brother and fathers face flashed across his mind and his mistake that had gotten them both killed. His sister and mother and their pity. "Bu' I cannae go home again, the way is lost," it was a cryptic answer but in truth Cillian didn't know much more than that. It was a banishment of a sort, self imposed, but whatever he had done when he left through the odd magical field that kept their home safe he had forgotten his way home. Sometimes he went in search of it. He would make his way to the southern coast where he had landed, board the boat he had arrived in and set off in the direction he remembered at night, where the tip of the dragons fang touched the sea.

And there was always nothing.

"Wha' about you, any ... comrades?" he of course knew Dreadlords were taken from their family but sometimes soldiers made their own family in a way.

 

[Sierra]

The empath felt flickers of his emotions. The pain. Sadness. Maybe regret? Didn’t matter if you were human, fae, elf. Lived a hundred years or ten hundred. Family was complicated. There was always some sort of loss. If only Anirians and all their enemies could see how similar they were, things would be different. A better world for Rose to grow up in.

Her head tipped to the sky, a sigh escaping her at his question. Jacob had fallen asleep partially against her, some of his drool mingling with her armor. But her head turned and she found those golden eyes again.

“I haven’t seen my family since I was a girl. I made three friends at the Academy.” For a moment, pain and sorrow etched across her face. “One remains.” She’d seen him recently but hadn't had a moment to talk. “In my line of work, it’s hard to find those I can trust.” She rubbed at the back of her neck. “Most Anirians wouldn’t understand what I’m trying to do. And those that would are hard to find. Most would happily sell me to the authorities or another house just to get a promotion and be lauded as a hero.”

 

[Cillian]

"T'at's a 'ard life tae live Duchess," Cillian grimaced. Her description painted a grim picture in keeping with the other rumours he had heard of Dreadlord life. His eyes briefly flickered to Jacob and then he half turned to look over his shoulder. Kristine had fallen asleep in one of the baskets full of silks he used for his shoes. A smile chased away the clouds that had gathered on his face.

"It's good these two won't 'ave to live that way. You're doing good work, Sierra," he reached out and gently squeezed her knee before putting it back on his reins. "I dinnae know if it's true bu' I been hearin' whisperin's about Vel Anir headin' for a civil war soon. There's a'lo'a resentment amongst tae Guards. Though I 'ave been hearin' tat for a while," for many years now. But these things built and built until they bit a breaking point.

"Wha' would ye do? If ye weren't a Dreadie?"

 

[Sierra]

For some reason that nickname he’d given her was becoming less and less grating on his tongue. But his simple touch on her knee made her heart warm in her chest along with her veins. How long had it been that she’d been touched like that to make that slight tremor in her chest?

Eyes squeezed closed for a moment. Trying to forget a set of icy blue eyes. Thank the stars Rose had gotten her eyes and not her father’s.

Stormy grey eyes opened and slid back to Cillian’s profile. She thought of the meeting with Zana. Talus. And the others. “You’re not wrong. I know Vel Anir can’t keep going the way it has been. But I also fear what consequences a civil war might bring.” Because there would be. More death. A time of anarchy.

She huffed at his choice of words for a dread lord with a rueful smile. “I don’t know,” she admitted, chewing on her own words. “Perhaps I’d run a school for children without homes. Maybe I’d travel the realm with my...,” she paused. Then looked away from the fae, focusing on the tree line that ran along the road. She knew she could trust him. Call it an empath’s intuition. Or perhaps all he’d shown her already.

“I have a daughter,” she admitted quietly. “Three years. Not much younger than Kristine.”

 

[Cillian]

Cillian did a double take. She had been good with the kids but he hadn't guessed it was because she had one of her own. He supposed it made more sense, there was just an extra touch mothers had that he had been stupidly putting down to her magic until now.

"I see..." he glanced to her finger and noted the lack of wedding band. It didn't necessarily explain anything but... "Ye can tell me ta stuff it lass, bu'... tae dad no' around? If he is... why isn't he doin' this wit' ya?" If he had landed a woman like her he wouldn't ever dream of letting her do something like this ever again.

 

[Sierra]

She had to wonder what Cillian saw when he looked at her. She was still young but her experiences and becoming a mother so young, probably made her seem older. She doubted she looked as old as she felt most days. Did most people see a young, brash dread lord?

Her mouth went dry at the question. And for a moment, she felt as raw as the day Hal started to pull away. Rose the only one keeping her anchored. A slow exhale as she looked to Cillian. Finding some comfort in the warmth of his eyes.

“No he,” her fingers tightened on the edge of her seat. “left. About a year ago.” Stars, had it been that long already? But the truth was, he’d withdrawn even before then. Something had changed. “Something changed him,” she frowned and chewed on the inside of her cheek. She’d never been able to talk about it with anyone because their relationship had to remain secret. The truth of Rose had to remain secret.

“I can’t help thinking that if I’d done more. Asked him, hell, I dunno,” she pinched the bridge of her nose. Of course a part of her blamed herself. She should've worked harder to find out what happened. But every trail she’d managed to find ran cold. She knew he didn’t want to be found but....it didn’t feel any less like she couldve done something more.

A clear of her throat. “More than you wanted to know?” She tried to patch back on the mask of strength she typically wore.

 

[Cillian]

Pain was not a new concept to Cillian even if he had suffered it other ways. To lose someone you loved be it romantic, familial, through death or just drifting apart... it was all pain. It was the price you paid for opening your heart to someone. He felt it in every word she spoke, saw it in the curve of her face and the set of her shoulders.

"No lass," he said softly and turned his face back toward her. "You could never tell me too much," his gaze held hers captive for more than several beats of his heart. He wanted her to know, to see and feel the truth of his words. They might not have been more than strangers but she had proven herself to be a good person and good people deserved empathy.

"Some people are destined to walk a path we cannae follow. I lost my da and brother when I was young. Probably yer age actually," he chuckled. "I left my isle because I blamed meself but time... time has made me see they would have followed t'at path no ma'er wha'."