Private Tales The Fall

[Feyre]

Feyre's lashes narrowed slightly at the request. Well, less a request than a demand. Her lips twitched and she let out a long, considering sigh. Either way, she needed support. Whether or not this demand was something she'd later be able to sustain, she wasn't sure, but for now nothing else mattered other than securing what was rightfully hers, and if Thomand caused her any trouble down the line, well she wasn't above lying nor was she above having him murdered by some unknown assassin in his sleep.

His bargain suited her. Payment up front, she didn't have, and if she did she wouldn't likely trust that he wouldn't be off to tell the Baron with his pockets full. Finally, she nodded lightly "A wise choice. We have a deal." she smiled, though there was little warmth in it.

"So. How many men, and just how loyal are they, in your opinion?.." she asked, sitting back to examine her fingernails.

 

[Raziel]

"You question the loyalty of my own... Ah his men. Those I would call loyal and trained are out keeping the peace in your own lands.

"Most of the rest he could assemble are back doing... Whatever common folk do. I imagine a hundred or so guards at Belleton where his town house is and a few military sorts around his household staff at his country house."

Thomand grapes the handle of his cane a little more tightly. He leaned forwards, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

"There were rumours, of course, but how do you know it was him that started this peasant revolt?"

As cowed as he had been by her uncle, it was the thought of unruly peasants overthrowing the aristocracy that really kept him up at night.

 

[Feyre]

"I have my sources. But I promised a short and civilised conversation, neither of which would stand if I were to divulge more information on that particular subject. she answered conspiratorially.

"I trust that you'll keep up your end of the deal. Please give Eliza and the girls my very best." she smiled, reaching a hand to pat him on the knee. "I will find you in due course, and you will be ready when I do." she nodded to him and opened the door to step out of the carriage.

"Have a pleasant evening, Lord Kell." she smiled and turned to give the devil in the driving seat a subtle nod.

 

[Raziel]

A week later

"You are in luck," Raziel declared as he crept up on Feyre. The sun had been down for nearly an hour, but the pink sky was bright enough that he was careful.

"The Baron is here."

The country house was quite an ugly, squat building his his opinion. Boring architecture, but living in meticulous gardens and looking it over a sweeping valley.

Those four words were going to carry a great weight for Feyre. Raziel had been the architect of her family's downfall, but the man who had paid for it and orchestrated the wider coup was just a hundred paces away.

"A large household staff though, probably at least a few who know how to fight. We might want to wait until most are asleep. Do you still want him to watch as you take away the things he cares about?"

And within that, he meant what they had planned to come for: his wife.

 

[Feyre]

She'd been comfortably reclined against a moss-covered tree long fallen, that was until the tiefling's voice had her jolt out of her thoughts and back to reality. She'd kill for a hot bath and a feather bed, but there was little denying that Feyre had adapted well to the wild considering how pampered she'd grown up. The noble sat up to glare at him for catching her off-guard, about to spit venom at him before he delivered the news she'd been hoping for.

The Baron is here.

Feyre stood up abruptly, her impatience clear. "I've waited long enough." she huffed, looking toward the estate and snapping her attention back to him as the question was posed.

"I haven't changed my mind. Nor will I." she scowled in determination, and yet she couldn't deny the sudden churn of nerves in her stomach now that the opportunity was so close to hand.

 

[Raziel]

There was no need to question her resolve further. He knew she would be willing the drive the blade home. It was simply a matter of waiting to see how much she was going to draw it out.

He had his own vendetta, though it paled in comparison to the anticipation of seeing the shape of her vengeance. They had plotted to have him killed just hours after hard months of work to bring about the coup. It felt a little personal.

It was cold but they waited and watched until the sun was long gone. One member of staff continued to check the front door long into the evening.

"I'm going to deal with the doorman," Raziel eventually said. "He definitely has a sword in that cane. Probably a sergeant. Then we fetch the pair and take them to the east wing. No servants out that way tk be disturbed."

He was gone without a sound, melting into the shadows he called home. When the footman next passed the door there was a tap that drew his attention. A suspicious face on Broad shoulders pushed through the front door.

He was very still and would have collapsed to the ground had Raziel not emerged from the darkness to catch him. He was dragged unceremoniously into the bushes. Raziel waved Feyre over.

"Blowpipe," he muttered. "Crude but useful."

It was dark inside. Just a few candles still burning. Quiet and still.

 

[Feyre]

“Is he dead?..” she asked quietly as she stepped out of the shadows she’d watched him from. It still surprised her how unphased by death she was. How nonchalant she could be toward something so harrowing that would only weeks ago have shocked her. She’d seen so much of it in so little time, she’d lost so much so quickly that if she’d cared enough to worry about herself, she’d have questioned if she’d lost some of her sanity along the way. Of that, there was no doubt.

She lifted the cane that the doorman no longer required, and her brow quirked at Raziel. A fucking blowpipe? She snorted and her head shook as she quietly peeked around the doorway, and stepped inside. It was not as grand the home she’d fled from, and smaller than she remembered it being, but it was luxurious all the same.

The cane slowly clicked on the marble floor as she crossed the foyer in the manner of someone visiting a gallery. “I’d say I like what he’s done with the place but..” her nose wrinkled, her mind already stripping the walls of the tacky paintings that decorated it. With no obstruction, Feyre alighted the grand staircase, her fingertips dancing up the ornate banister.

“Well, make yourself useful.” she said with a half glance over her shoulder to Raziel. “Sniff them out like a good dog.” she smirked.

 

[Raziel]

"Try throwing a poisoned needle at someone. Oh and you will pay for that later," Raziel replied before bringing a finger to his lips. For once, there was very little venom in his threat.

He offered a look of distaste at the paintings. His gaze lingered on a rather flattering floor-to-ceiling depiction of the current Baron, but he quickly returned to the task at hand. He looked focussed.

He was decidedly more irritated that they had tried to murder him on the night of the coup than he had let on. It made logical sense to try and tie up the loose ends, but it was deeply foolish to try and off a renowned murderer instead of just paying for silence.

Raziel knew which part of the Manor house the owners were in, but not which precise rooms. Part of his shadow tore itself from the rest and slippef away. It was like watching a shark beneath the surface of the sea. It returned before they had even finished climbing the grand staircase.

It led them to a pair of adjoining rooms. They slept seperately for posterity's sake but had a door between them. Raziel pressed a finger over his own lips and pointed for Feyre to collect the wife. He would wake the Baron with as little fuss as possible.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre could only grin at his threat, though it faltered as she saw the shadow slither up the stairs and return to his feet. She tried not to appear discomforted by it, but a shudder spider-walked up her spine. Every time she found herself forgetting just what he was capable of, he made sure to quickly remind her.

She moved quietly into the room, her gaze lingering on Raziel for a moment as he left her to rouse the baron's wife. Seeing the sleeping woman, she felt her pulse quicken. She'd imagined so many scenarios, but now that the moment was within her grasp she felt a wave of nausea churn over in her stomach.

Was she really going to do this?

The woman slept soundly. She looked a little older than Feyre's mother had been, and she remembered her bringing her and her cousin sweetbreads and milk when they'd played in the garden as children. None of this was her fault, and yet, nothing had been Feyre's fault either. The baron hadn't cared when he'd ordered her entire family killed.

Feyre drew in a breath and tightened her jaw as she walked to the woman's bedside, slipping her dagger into her hand and pressing it to her neck whilst covering her mouth with her free hand.

"Shh. Don't scream, I won't hurt you if you don't scream." she whispered, trying not to pay attention to the fear in her eyes. Her mother must have looked like that. Sorcha had looked like that, and Feyre must have too. But this was the Baron's punishment, not hers.

"Get up. Lets go." she beckoned, and dragged the woman from her bed as quietly as she could.

 

[Raziel]

"You..."

The baritone sound started to rise in volume but was cut short by a sharp slap. Silence came from the adjoining room before being broken by a muffled murmur.

The door to his chamber opened. The Baron was shoved out first. He stumbled a few steps and then tried to draw himself up proudly. He even managed it, despite being gagged, having his hands tied in front of him and wearing a silken nightshirt that only reached his knees.

He was portly now, thick around the middle. It was still possible to see the fine warrior he had once been. His shoulders were broad, there was thick muscle beneath the fat. That pride was why the gag made of a torn sheet and rope binding was required. His little piggy eyes went wide at the sight of Feyre.

Raziel gave a firm shove between the shoulder blades to knock him off balance again. The two owners of the estate were forced to pad down the corridors of the house until the reached the mostly vacant east wing.

The library had two tiers of books up one wall and a large glass window that let pale blue moonlight splash across the floor. The heavy iron structure of the spiral stairs and mezzanine floor made it perfect.

Raziel pushed the heavy oak door closed behind them softly. There was a finality to the lock clicking into place.

Raziel tied the Baron to the frame of the spiral staircase and pulled the gag free.

"You...you!" He spat one word out for each of them.

 

[Feyre]

The Lady of the house needed no gag, nor bindings. The dagger that pressed to the small of her back was enough incentive for her to go without a fuss and to let out no sound other than the irrepressible whimpering.

Feyre rather enjoyed the look of surprise in the Baron's eyes, but there wasn't nearly enough fear in them. Not yet. Did he not believe her capable? With Raziel's help or not, she had survived and she was here, in his home, with a blade at his wife's back. Had she not proven something by that alone?..

She escorted the woman to a large armchair by the unlit hearth and sat her down with a bruising grip on her shoulder as she stood beside her, watching the Baron with an unreadable expression.

"Oh, were you not expecting me?" Feyre asked in response to her uncle's astonishment. "You mean the men you sent to meet me on the road were not my welcoming party?.." her head tilted, and she let realisation sink in before she offered the man an affirming smile. Yes, they'd met them, and obviously, they had not returned home.

She looked down at the trembling woman in the chair, leaning to speak closely to her ear as she pointed her blade at the portly man. "Did he tell you that he had my entire family killed? That he had our home ransacked and burned? That he took everything from me, in the name of greed and jealousy?.." she asked, her lips tugging upward.

"See now I'm here to take it back." she explained. "As your only living blood relative, it does after all, belong to me when you die. But that could take years." her eyes rolled. "And I'd just get bored waiting." her head shook and she huffed as she straightened with a shrug.

 

[Raziel]

"I..." the wife started. Raziel stalked around the edge of the room. He casually took in the authors embossed on the spines of the books. Occasionally he walked through a sliver of moonlight. Like an artists brush it gave his shadowy form colour, but only for fleeting moments.

The wife stuttered. He could see her desperately seeking any kind of reply that might save her skin.

"I sent those men to keep you safe girl!" the Baron said. "Of course she knew what I was doing."

The man was frustratingly calm in the moment, Raziel thought. More confidence than self preservation. It was interesting that he would go out of his way to save his wife, whilst it had seemed she would grasp at anything to save herself. Feyre needed to keep a cold semblance of calm that could rival his.

A quick death would be so very droll. Feyre had to be the center of attention for this show. He was merely here to act on her behalf. Which he would enjoy immensely as long as the theatre of pain was drawn out.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre let out a sharp laugh in incredulity, her fingers stroking through the woman's hair as she sat shaking under her palm. "Tsk. Come on now. Those bastards put a noose around my neck and you gave that order. They paid, though." she glanced to Raziel with a flourish of the dagger in the tiefling's direction. "As did your son." her head tilted, and she snaked her arm around the woman's shoulders as she leaned closer to her, their cheeks side by side.

"Your husband is a monster, My Lady. And a coward by the looks of it. But, perhaps you weren't aware that he hired thugs to murder his family in their beds, or that he sent his men to murder an innocent girl on the road.." her lips pursed. "He won't see out the night. But I'd like you to hear his crimes from his own lips, and perhaps a little pathetic begging before we proceed with that." her brow quirked, and the dagger pressed against the woman's face.

"So. Lets hear it." she pressed the blade down, feeling the woman's body tremble with fear as she forced her down into the chair and sliced open an inch or two. "Or you can watch me peel off your wife's face.." she offered.

Feyre's heart raced, her palm clammy as she fought to stop her hand from trembling. Adrenaline sang in her blood, and it was everything to maintain her cool composure as she displayed a sort of cruelty so utterly foreign to her.

Was she really ready to follow this through? She'd been so obsessed with the need for vengeance that she'd told herself she'd do anything for it, but now that she'd spilled the first few drops of blood of a woman she believed to be entirely innocent, she wasn't so sure. Raziel was here, they'd die either way, but she didn't know what she'd regret more. Enjoying this, or not.

 

[Raziel]

"You were paid good coin," the Baron growled over his shoulder at Raziel.

Moonlight flashed off ivory in the form of a Cheshire smile. "Which it seems you wanted to claw back from my cold, dead hands."

"I'll pay you right now. Clean and simple and you walk away."

Raziel shook his head slowly, stunned by the boldness of the man. He saw one route out of this: bribing Raziel. He took it in the shameless manner of a man who knew he would survive anything, knew it was divine right to be in his seat of power.

"She asked you a question," Raziel hissed. This was a side show he wanted to skip past. He wanted to watch Feyre, to follow every move she made. He wasn't part of that act unless called upon. There was danger too. Danger that the Baron would reveal that Raziel had known exactly who his employer had been and had considered using Feyre as leverage.

Raziel looked to Feyre and the Baron's wife, to the trickle of crimson from the first cut. The face always bled so heavily.

"You think I wouldn't have told my wife of my plans?" The Baron snorted.

Raziel wasn't certain what kind of play this was. He was far from being broken, still trying to make his own game. Did he hope to buy time whilst Feyre was focussed in his wife, would he throw her under the carriage so easily?

His tail gave a soft swish in curiosity.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre gripped at the woman's jaw as she squirmed and screamed and solicited for her to stop.

'I'll pay you right now. Clean and simple and you walk away.'

Fuck. She hadn't even considered that the bastard would try to buy his way out of this. Of course he would, and Raziel's financial motivations were a worry that was quite clear in her gaze as she snapped her attention toward the tiefling.

'She asked you a question'...

Feyre breathed, and a wracked sob suddenly reminded her of what she'd been doing. Her lips pursed, feigning consideration of the Baron's words before she shrugged.. "I don't know. Did you?" she asked tediously and slid the blade another two inches down the side of his wife's face. She screamed louder now, and the blood was thick and hot as it ran down over Feyre's hand. Adrenaline surged so quickly that she felt sick, but she veiled it with a quiet chuckle and shook her head.

"Oh you poor dear. Your greedy little husband might as well be holding the knife himself. Just as he might as well have been the one to drive a blade into your son's chest.." she pouted and leaned into her ear, her eyes on the baron. "But that was me too." she whispered, and the blade slipped another inch.

 

[Raziel]

The Baron finally flinched. From the shadows she would see Raziel. The two could not have been a greater contrast.

Eyes and teeth in the darkness outlined all the expression she needed to see. Raziel's smiled grew wider and he drew closer in anticipation at each slip of the knife.

The Baron flinched with each draw of the knife and turned his head away.

"You," he hissed at Raziel, turning away far enough to see the tiefling's expression, "Would choose this macabre display over coin. I should never have hired you."

"True, on both counts" replied Raziel, threading his hand into the Baron's thinning hair. "But pay attention."

With a hard yank he forced him to look at his wife.

"I don't know anything!" She wailed. A rather painful lie too.

What had he offered that let the woman turn a blind eye to the end of her own relatives? Raziel wondered. Did her ambitionand appetite match his?

 

[Feyre]

Feyre huffed quietly and drew the blade away from the woman's face, gazing at the dark crimson glistening in the ghostly threads of light. She couldn't deny the thrill, even if her stomach was churning over and over. The adrenaline was somewhat addictive, she'd found, and she had to suppress a shudder at the sensation of it coursing through her veins.

"Your husband is going to die." she informed as she leaned back over the Baroness' shoulder, watching her uncle seething in his chair. "The only decision I've yet to make is whether its going to be a quick death, or a slow one." she told her. "Its really up to you. But in the meantime." she crooned, and gripped the crying woman's chin as she forced the edge of the blade into her mouth and got ready to slice.

 

[Raziel]

"You little bitch," the Baron spat. Finally his attention was fully upon Feyre. "Your family owed me everything. Your father owed me everything. Yet they a turned their backs on me!"

One of Raziel's eyebrows Rose upwards. That was all entirely true, from the Baron's point of view. He believed every word.

It wasn't reality. Feyre's family had built up their town and holdings through some careful investments and had repaid any debts to the Baron as per all agreements.

This was fuelled by jealousy. Raziel found the drama unfolding to be quite fascinating.

"You will ruin everything."

But finally, on top of that rot of jealousy that had set deep, cutting through his anger and disbelief was a real note of fear.

 

[Feyre]

Feyre's brows rose, feigning shock at the way the Baron addressed her, but her expression quickly reverted to a smile of gritted teeth. "My family owed you nothing.. But now, now you owe me everything. I ruined it all for you by staying alive. At least, I'll do the job properly." she sneered.

"I'm tired of this." she huffed, whipping the blade from the sobbing woman's mouth. She'd only sliced an extra half inch on either side, but the gush of blood was instant and she screamed and lifted her trembling hands to cover what was left of her face.

"She has bigger balls than you do." Feyre commented and reached to grab a fistful of the woman's hair to pull her back into her chair and tilt her head, the bloody knife resting on her throat now.

"If you have anything to say, best make it quick.." she advised, her golden eyes settling on the Baron without any hint of a bluff.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel knew that the Baron would never find the it within himself to bring about a calm, quiet and honest last confession to his wife.

His world revolved around himself. Everything bent to his view of the world and his story would never end. Everything would work to his favour in the end because he deserved it.

His wife was breathing so fast and hard that she almost didn't looked up as he addressed her.

"She won't hurt you any more. "

The Baron looked up at Syuri. His eyes were narrowed in rage, not regret.

"Put the damned knife down girl. What do you want?"

 

[Feyre]

Her lips were once again close to the woman's ear, her gaze fixed on the Baron. "That's one more lie.." she tsk'd and shook her head.

What did she want? This. The way he was looking at her as though she wasn't capable of doing what she claimed she would. The anger that furrowed the old man's features, and next, well hopefully shock and grief.

"I want you to watch her die, and know that her death is entirely, your fault. I want her to die knowing that, and the sort of man you are. I want everything that I am owed, and then I want to rip your heart out." she answered bluntly, and the woman's sobs trembled thick and fast from her lips as the inevitability swept her into a fit of panic, her eyes widening on her husband before Feyre drew the blade slowly across her throat.

 

[Raziel]

Raziel could feel the shock coming off the Baron. Finally Feyre had cut through his layers or delusion as easily as she did his wife's throat.

The Baron trembled in despair and fury. His wife opened her mouth wide as she met his gaze and the crimson started to flow. Her last breaths were so very loud Feyre finished he movement and blood poured down her night chemise. Red spread across white as the womab gaped and convulsed.

Her head fell forwards slowly as the light left her eyes. Raziel was not watching her, not any more. He was watching Feyre, his heart hammering away not from fear or shock, but the sheer thrill of watching her work.

For once, the Baron had nothing to say.

Raziel grinned from the shadows.

 

[Feyre]

She felt every faint tug of tendons, listened the woman convulse and choke and the wet rush of blood spilling out of her neck, but Feyre's eyes remained fixed on the Baron for every second of it. Her body sang with adrenaline, and her jaw clenched at the sudden churn of her stomach, forcing the nausea back down. He deserved this. She was owed this. He hadn't given a shit when her family were murdered, she wasn't the monster here, he was.

Her eyes closed for a few seconds as the Baron's wife fell silent, basking in the few moments of the quiet that came after death and that often fell along side grief and shock. It was his silent realisation that he had failed and that she was something real that he should be very afraid of. She couldn't help but relish the rush that sort of power gave her, and she sighed as a shudder raced across her spine.

"There. Now we've established that I'm not fucking around, we can get on with it." she straightened, looking down at the dead woman and running a hand through her hair before returning her attention to the Baron and taking a slow stride across the room toward him.

 

[Raziel]

"Be civilised!" the Baron spat. Finally there was real, genuine fear in his voice. Self preservation instincts kicking in too late to save his wife.

"Exile me, take my lands but you...you don't...don't need to..."

Raziel sighed. How rediculous humans were. The height of civility was seen as locking your powerful relatives in a tower and having them fed nicely as they rotted away.

 

[Feyre]

"Civilised? Is that what you call it when you hire a mob to murder my family and burn my home to the ground rather than get your own pampered little hands dirty?" she growled at him, stoking her own fury. "If you think for a moment that you are leaving this room alive, you've another think coming. You've had several chances to kill me, I saw no mercy from you. Is it my fault that you failed?" she laughed incredulously and shook her head.

"No.. I really do need to. I will sleep far better at night knowing that you're rotting in the ground." she smiled, but it was a thing of madness.

"Hold him down." she said with a glance to Raziel, certain that the old bastard would put up more of a fight than his wife had.