Private Tales The Fall

[Feyre]

How had she been so slow in putting it all together?

Her father's reach had been five times as wide as his cousin's, his wealth far more. Of course he wanted it, and with her family eradicated it would have been his without contest. A little extreme, she thought to herself with bitter sarcasm.

She nodded lazily, forcing herself upright with everything she had to let him get down to all but fall on him as she slipped down from the saddle afterward. Feyre would sleep wherever she fell, it could've been a bed of thorns and she wouldn't have cared, it wouldn't have deterred her from passing out cold.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel decided that the moss she had set herself down on would have to do. He didn't know whether it was emotional or physical exhaustion. Probably both.

She awoke in the late evening. Raziel had set a small fire and sat on the other side of it from her. The flickering light was devilish glee in his eyes. He leaned over the fire, horns protruding forwards.

There was no joy in his smile. His lips were pulled into a tight line. Raziel looked angry.

"There is some dried food in the saddle bags. Eat."

 

[Feyre]

Feyre simply stared at him after he'd spoken, his face suffused by a coy and menacing light. She was used to seeing him smug and conceited, taunting, but any time she saw him with real anger she was reminded of how dangerous he was. It radiated from him, simmering there under the surface, ready to burst free and cause chaos and destruction.

She wasn't hungry, and so she didn't answer. A pregnant silence grew between them before she finally broke it without sitting up. "You know you'll get nothing for me now.. He wants me dead. And you just murdered his son." she murmured, her voice monotone and spiritless. Each time she thought things couldn't get worse, fate gave her another hard kick to the gut and accepted the challenge.

She rolled onto her back and laced her fingers across her stomach as she stared up at the indigo sky and the stars fighting for dominance over the sun's dying light. "It's all fucked." she snorted, a smirk tugging at her lips before she broke into rolls of tear inducing laughter.

 

[Raziel]

"It is," he replied. He didn't know quite what to make of her reaction just yet. She would need time to come down from it and think rationally. He didn't care for rational right now.

"And yet I made the pact to deliver you to him," he continued. "Magic isn't clever, it doesn't act as the arbiter."

"You see I think that delivering the Baron to you is very much the same. And if you do too, then so does the magic."

 

[Feyre]

Each death, wound, torment, every night sleeping on the rough ground had been another stone to drop, like pressure against cracking glass, and the glass had now truly shattered. She had held onto hope like a frayed and tattered blanket, trying to soak whatever warmth from it that she could, that she might be able to rebuild her life after the trauma had been the only thing keeping her moving forward. Now that blanket had been torn from her, exposing her to the frigid cold reality that her life was gone. Her family, friends, wealth, everything other than the clothes she wore and her horse. All gone.

And so she laughed, musically..manically; because how utterly fucked her life had become was unbelievably humorous.

"Yes." she barked, snapping her fingers in the air with a chuckle as though she'd drank a few too many cups of wine. "Bring him to me." she demanded. "Should've kept his bastard son's head as a gift." she frowned and turned her head to look at him.

"I want him dead."

 

[Raziel]

The devil's eyes danced in the his fire. He slowly drew his gaze upwards to meet her eyes. Now he smiled. He smiled for the unrepentant venom in her tone.

"I could do that. Leave you with as much or as little time as you want to see to that. On such a personal matter, I would always advise taking your time.

"We need to strike a new deal." He spoke quietly, yet with all the weight of a hammer coming down on a table.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre's groomed brows rose at his suggestion. Killing the man? A week ago she'd have vomited at the thought. Now? Now that she'd known what the Baron had done she couldn't bring herself to feel squeamish, she would gladly have plunged her blade into his black heart for everything he'd taken from her. But he wasn't talking about a quick death, and though she knew the man didn't deserve one, that, that sent a militia of chills marching across her spine. She suppressed the shudder, and was taken aback by the fact that she was smiling right back at him. Genuinely smiling.

The mention of a deal caused the smile to falter and fall, her jaw tightening for a moment, entirely ready to refuse but, admittedly curious to hear of what creative way he'd come up with to take as much from her predicament as he possibly could. She stared at him for a moment and let out a sharp huff as she turned her gaze back toward the darkening sky.

"What sort of deal?.." Her life was entirely fucked. What was the worst that could happen, after another deal with the devil?

 

[Raziel]

There was something far too carnal and raw in her smile. He'd felt her being drawn forward with the blade when it had been at his own throat. It drew his attention in her direction. Suddenly she was more that a passing interest or minor distraction. Under his gaze was a very dangerous place to be.

She was a wounded animal, he reminded himself. Backed too far into a corner, she would fight or try to glee and he would lose the game.

"Do you even care now?" he asked. "When you could have your revenge however you wanted?"

The fire crackled and sparked.

Raziel did not even blink.

 

[Feyre]

"I just...Want him dead. I don't need to be garish about it." she frowned, but chuckled to herself all-the-same as she glanced at him. "And then, I want a bottle of rum." she added simply and sighed. "The things I'd do for a bottle of rum right now." she muttered, her tongue wetting her lips.

"It seems, that I have a plethora of things to worry about but, when you think about it, I really don't have much to worry about at all now." she had physically nothing, and so it made logical sense to her. "So I'll ask again. What. Deal?.." she flopped her head to the side with a wince at the pressure on her bruised cheek, her honey coloured eyes half dazed as she stared at him.

 

[Raziel]

He smiled and looked off into the distance. Neither moon was up so beyond the nearest trees was an all consuming darkness. A little circle of sanctuary for Feyre. Unfortunately she was left sharing it with him. It was all about the balance of power, about control. That was far more enticing than any weakness of the flesh.

"I will bring you the Baron and I recommend you make him suffer exactly as much as you feel he deserves. And you...well I wall have you for one night."

He left that offer lingering between them, letting it sink in. She was probably wishing she had that bottle of rum even harder now.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre's chest undulated as she sucked in an an angry breath and threw it back out in a scoff. "Absolutely fucking not!." she scowled over at him and sat herself up, her fingers furled into fists now housing handfuls of moss that she was trying her hardest to crush. Her entire body tightened at the thought of his hands, that tail roving all over her and she shuddered as she tore her gaze away from him.

She stood and turned her back to him, feeling the need to stride off somewhere, but finding her muscles did not quite agree just yet and so staggering would have to do. Her hands caught hold of a mossy oak and she moved around it and out of his field of vision, slipping into the tangle of roots and folding her arms, her brows knit with fury at him. At herself.

She would never be able to so much as touch the Baron without him. And without him dead, he would continue to send men after her. She didn't just want the man in the ground, she needed him gone if she was going to survive. But the price, to give herself over to him, to let him.. She pulled a breath into her too-tight lungs and let her head fall into her hands.

All the tiefling had to do was hand her over and their current deal would be upheld on his end. She knew it'd been the only reason he'd slain Mansell and his men to rip her from death's grip, but she had been relieved to see him. It sickened her to think that he was the only reliable thing that had existed in her new life up until now, as abhorrent as he was, he was both the reason people she cared about were dead and the only reason she was still alive. She needed him, and it sparked a rage inside her that coupled with her fury of what the Baron had caused, left her clinging to the edge of her sanity.

Feyre was a Lady. A noblewoman. To offer her body to any man who was not her husband was scandalous. To offer her body to the devil was absolutely reprehensible. But who was there to care? Her mind was already shattered, her soul torn in two; what difference would it make really? It was all she had left to lose, so what did it really matter now? If she was blackout drunk enough perhaps she wouldn't remember.

"One night." she called from behind the tree, her voice breaking. "With rum." she added, and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel didn't grin and he did not gloat. This wasn't the time to break her down or push her to back out of the deal.

He had no thoughts on what he would do after the transaction was concluded. As much as he enjoyed an intricate plan coming together, unwinding someone else's was a glorious thing. Especially when they thought they could trap Raziel in the middle of their web.

"Very well. There will be rum between here and his home. I could do with some too and we will need to plan."

Raziel let his gaze fall to the floor. He counted the blades of grass whilst simultaneously imagining what he had won and plotting the downfall of a Baron.

"But we cannot delay too long. You remember anything of his estates?"

Deal done. On to the specifics.

 

[Feyre]

And just so casually the deal was brushed over as though it were nothing, as though she were nothing. It made her...mad? She wasn't sure if she was disgusted or offended that she'd been such a simple transaction, she wanted to reach out and claw her agreement back into her mouth and swallow it.

"That's it?!" she called from behind the twisted oak, dragging herself to her feet to strut back out into the little clearing, her hands firmly set on her hips. "You would subject me to the most horrific night of my life - and that is SAYING something - and that's it?!"

Feyre growled at him. What had she done? She might've doubled over right there and then and threw up with rage if she hadn't strode toward him to kick up the earth at him and reach for her horse's reins. "Think of a new deal. I didn't make that one in blood, I take it back."

 

[Raziel]

Raziel stood upright and went quite still as he watched her move to her horse. It was a particular kind of stillness, one that any prey animal recognised as motion held in check.

"What would you have me do exactly? Outline exquisite detail to watch you suffer even further? Or perhaps to bring you comfort with words? Maybe the truth, that you could invite a hundred young country men of noble blood to your chambers and each would be as plain, ordinary and dissapointing as the last?"

The deal hadn't been made in blood but that didn't put her in an less danger now. His tail gave an agonisingly slow swish from one side to the other as he watched her.

 

[Feyre]

She didn't know why she was so angry. Her moods were crashing into her in waves, rolling from one emotion to another, chaotic and torrential, and keeping her head above them was proving impossible. Her mind had splintered to the point of internal crisis and there was not a thing she could anchor it to. There was no way out.

Perhaps it was the shock of what she'd just allowed herself to agree to when he'd answered, when he'd gotten what he'd wanted. Perhaps it was that he hadn't seemed to be pleased about it in the slightest. If he had, she'd probably still have been angry but.. at least she'd have felt a little dignity about it. To be cast over so casually, as though he'd be taking so little when she'd be giving so much. As though she were so insignificant.

Feyre knew that stillness. She'd already tested it, and she realised that in agreeing to his new deal, that she had effectively erased that which he'd made before. She bared her teeth at him. "As if you are capable of such a thing as comfort. As if you don't enjoy seeing me suffer." she sneered.

"I take the deal back." she growled, and pulled herself up into the horse's saddle.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel's hands slowly unfurled. His tail stilled as the rest of him managed to give the perception of calm motion without actually moving.

"You must know by now that I will have what I want," he said.

The seed had been planted now. She would gripe and complain and mentally wrangle with the decision she had made. One way or another.

Raziel took his time to walk to camp, collecting their things. They were their things on account of Mansell and his crew of braying dogs having no need for them any more.

"Regardless of any deals, or lack thereof, we shall take advantage of the darkness and find a place where there might be rum."

Preferably no one there planning on their murder. Hopefully someone who would report their presence. Raziel had been lying. The plotting was already done.

 

[Feyre]

"Not if I murder you first." she growled, watching him meander back to camp. Her fingers tightened on her reins, considering her notion of fleeing from him, but as she turned to peer through the dark woods, she thought twice. It was a hollow feeling, being so dependent on him. But not only had she nowhere to go, and no sense of direction if she had, she knew that any who knew her name wanted her dead, and he was the only thing that stood between her and them, at least right now.

"You're not exactly incon-fucking-spicuous, are you? If we pass through any town within a hundred miles of here, we'll be found. He'll know by tomorrow when his son doesn't return home that he never will." she answered, and kicked Epione into motion without waiting for him.

"I will have what I want.." she muttered in a mock tone to herself with a shake of her head.

 

[Feyre]

Some weeks later..

Feyre had absolutely no intention of talking about what had happened. She’d had absolutely no intention of ever thinking about it again, but the aches she felt as she moved were a persistent reminder, and she failed to stop her mind from wandering.

His question dragged her from her thoughts and she jolted slightly, turning to glance sidelong at him before shaking her head.

“I haven’t visited in many years..” she frowned. “The man is an old bastard, as I believe. Shouldn’t be too difficult to find some who loathe him.” her shoulders shrugged, but she realised how out of her depth she truly was. Did she really think that she’d walk in there, murder her uncle and then expect his people to allow her to take his position? She’d been so caught up in her bloodthirst that she hadn’t really given too much thought about the logistics. She was a noblewoman, what the fuck did she know?!

“Once he and his wife are dead then everything he owns is mine by right.” she muttered bitterly.

 

[Raziel]

He was only signed on for the blood and violence. There was no need to go out of his way to ensure any stability once the dust settled. He could simply leave Feyre in the centre of the bloodshed where she would probably last just a few days.

She had a powerful determination behind her, but it took more than that to hold on to power. He wasn't going to hand around to play her political games, but it only seemed far to provide her a sporting chance.

"Perhaps we should take a small detour to find out who those might be and gather a little leverage before we head to the estate. It is not much to work on but I'm sure I can manage."

They were deep in his lands now. Whilst tieflings were uncommon in these parts, there were no sweeping patrols after them here. He suspected they had taken the last direction the Baron's men might have expected them to take.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre's jaw tightened at his suggestion. She was impatient to have the man slaughtered for all he'd done to her family and a detour would only put more between her and the bloodshed. Still, she knew that the tiefling was right and she let out a huff in frustration.

"Fine." she grumbled reluctantly, and so at the fork a little way down the road, they took the path toward a town signposted as 'Old Ashton'. Feyre pulled her hood over her coppery hair and glanced to Raziel. "Here's hoping there's been nobody here looking for us." she murmured.

 

[Raziel]

"That should be them, get ready," Raziel hissed. He ducked back into the foliage, even his crimson skin hard to see in the fading light.

It had proved more difficult than he had expected to get close to some of Feyre's remaining family to make alliances. Their opponent was a little more wily than Raziel had thought, keeping leverage over a number of them.

He should have cut and run. Started the bloodshed and left Feyre to deal with it. Raziel hadn't stayed from sympathy - he had none - but frustration. He was trying to undo coup he had personally orchestrated over months of hard work. It was the challenge. He wouldn't let this lie.

Feyre's cousin - or some kind of cousin so many removed - had a great deal of wealth and influence. Thomand Kell's eldest son was also held by the Baron to secure his loyalty. Or he had been, until two days ago.

"Jump out and wave the carriage down," Raziel whispered.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre couldn't help but sneer at the way he issued his command without the decency of saying 'please'. "Oh yes of course, as you wish My Lord.." she muttered sarcastically, her eyes watching the approaching carriage through the foliage.

And so she did as he asked with a huff as she stepped out into the middle of the road and stopped, a hand up to wave politely before folding her arms around her ribs. She didn't need to try too hard to look cold and tired, but she certainly didn't look like a peasant.

The driver of the carriage tugged back on the twin horses reins and they came to a slow halt in front of her.

"Are you alright, Miss?.." he asked with concern, and Feyre's lips curled into a soft smile.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel let the sarcasm roll past him. There wasn't enough of a sting in her tone. The way she had lashed out at him had shifted significantly during their time together.

"What's the matter?" Called out a voice. It carried both age and irritability. Raziel assumed that would be Thomand Kell.

"A lady in the road m'lord."

"Well see her out of the way, we are behind you know!"

"Of course m'...."

People went so very still at the cold press of steel. Sometimes they jumped in fear or swatted at the irritation. The coachman was not one of those. Raziel slowly sat down beside him.

"My lady needs a brief conversation with your master," Raziel whispered.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre offered a sly smirk at the shocked expression on the coachman's face. It was a simple thing that she'd grown to relish. She may not have been directly causing that flare of fear in the man's eyes at this moment but it was for her that it was being done and she enjoyed it almost as much.

"Thank you." she smiled and gave a mockery of a curtsy. As she reached the door of the carriage, it was already being opened by a disgruntled looking gentleman who stared at her in mingled annoyance and confusion.

"What is the meaning of this?!" he blurted, his face blanching slightly as he realised that they were being held up. Feyre's eyes rolled and she let out a huff.

"If we might have a short and civilised conversation, we'll let you be on your way." she offered her hand, her brow quirking as he continued to gape at her.. "I'm sorry... I thought you were a gentleman?.." she tilted her head and reluctantly the man took her hand and assisted her into the carriage.

"Lovely." she commented as she sat down on the cushioned seat and looked around, her fingers splaying over the silken cushions. Thomand lowered himself back into his seat, his hand clutching the ornate handle of his cane so tightly that his knuckles paled. She breathed in the tension for a moment, waiting until the muscle in his clenched jaw twitched and she smiled at him.

"My name is Lady Feyre Cassidy." she paused, noting the temporary pause in his expression and taking from that that he knew exactly who she was and that he was aware of her family's downfall. Her lips pursed and she continued.

"And you are Thomand Kell. Your wife is Eliza, your daughters Lucinda and Daphne." she smiled warmly though her eyes remained cold. "I am in need of your assistance in some family matters, Lord Kell, and I can assure you that it is in your, and your family's, best interests to oblige me." her hands folded in her lap, and the man across from her looked notably nervous.

"I am listening." he said stiffly.

"I know." she assured with a dip of her chin. "I am travelling to the Bletchley Estate to visit my dear uncle. I intend on removing him from his seat, and taking everything that is his in payment for the family and home that he has taken from me. I already have several other of the families who are allied with me. You are one of the last I have yet to convince." she sighed.

He remained quiet, his gaze narrowing slightly as he gave a slow nod. She supposed he understood her reasoning for naming his family. Good.

"So. Terms. Whatever household guard you have at your disposal, will support me in obtaining the estate. You will swear your oath to me as your Lady and support my claim to my uncles lands and assets. In return, aside from your family's wellbeing, I will pay you handsomely for your loyalty - a word that my dear uncle clearly has not learned the meaning of."

"Do we have an understanding?"

 

[Raziel]

It was the nature of people like Thomand to believe that they held their position not through hard labour, not through being shrewd, but because they were entitled to their position. They were simply better than other people. It didn't matter which deity they subscribed to; the natural order of the world had placed them here.

It was because of this that he moved so quickly from fear to aggressive bartering. This was not bad luck, it wasn't a robbery. This was an opportunity and it was one that he deserved. He was one of the more influencial figures in the region and only held back by the Baron that resided over Bletchley estate having his balls in a vice.

"Most of his men," Thomand said softly, "are off occupying the lands your family used to hold I believe."

"I need no payment right now, but I want the taxes he has requested from my lands halved."