Closed When Twin Hearts Dream of Freedom (Shiress)

[Rook]

Rook buried his head against Shiress’ shoulder, a sense of wholeness threatening to overwhelm his senses and making him half dumb with happiness. Shiress would be able to feel the pure, unadulterated, dizzying joy pouring from him and into her. Likewise, he could feel her own contentment and if anything her emotions caused his own to multiply tenfold. This moment was perfect. Rook wanted to hold onto it forever.

The sound of footsteps in the hall outside took a moment to register in Rook’s joy addled mind. When they did, a surge of shock flooded through the kelvic, and his nerves rose to a fever pitch. Without thought Rook yanked off his clothes, and in a cascade of shimmering lights he had become a wolf. Rook stood over his bondmate, fur on end and lips curled in a snarl showing the stark whites of his razor sharp teeth. His ginger and black mane on the back of his neck stood up like a row of spikes and savage growl spilled from the kelvic’s lips.

When Rook’s instincts had finished flaring and he finally had a moment to observe his foe, she was not quite what he had expected. She reminded him a little of a fat, friendly sparrow. Even the way she waddled forward was a bit like a sparrow hopping. Aggression faded from Rook in a moment as he felt his bondmate’s emotions calm at the sight of the woman. He glanced at Shiress to confirm that the situation didn’t warrant violence, then allowed himself to be gently moved to the side by Shiress. Still, he leaned against his bondmate’s leg, watching this new woman suspiciously.

He listened carefully as the woman spoke to the pair of them. His ears twitched as the woman mentioned that she herself was bonded, and almost imperceptibly the kelvic felt himself relax. If the woman herself was bonded, then surely she could be more understanding of their situation.

Many of the things the woman spoke of Rook knew, or had heard. It was hard to live as a kelvic and wind up entirely ignorant of how bondmates worked, particularly coming from a place where studies were done on kelvics. A few things Rook was surprised by. Most notably, the shocking pain that coursed through his neck when the woman set her hands on Shiress. Rook snarled from the shock of pain, and almost lunged at the healer out of pure instinct. He was able to restrain himself as Shiress’ shock washed over him, but he couldn’t bite back the dose of bitterness he felt towards the healer. At Shiress’ question, the wolf nodded in agreement. Just as he could feel the sharpness of that pain, so too could he feel the aches and pains of Shiress’ old wounds.

The bitterness Rook felt towards the healer faded as Shiress’ pain faded under the woman’s attentions. By the time the woman had finished her treatment, Rook felt secure enough to return to his human form. He dressed hastily, not wishing to waste time, then turned back towards the healer with a hesitant look.

“Thank you for healing her. And explaining things.” Rook told the woman. “I’m grateful.”

For a moment, Rook had a wild fantasy of taking Shiress away from here. Of vanishing off into the outskirts of Ravok, or heading to some far off, unheard of land. Rook shook the fantasy from his head. Even the wolf, impulsive as he was, knew that an escape would take more planning than this. But now he had Shiress. He had a reason to keep going.

Rook accepted the bag from the woman with a respectful nod, then watched as she disappeared out the door. Rook turned towards Shiress and felt the maelstrom of emotions that were surely not his. Confusion, worry, anxiety… Rook tempered those feelings with his own confidence, his own sense of intense rightness and contentment.

“You don’t have to worry about me, you know?” Rook told his bondmate. “I know how to handle pain. It’s nothing to me.”

Rook felt Shiress’ sudden surge of hope and let out a soft ‘oof’ as the woman wrapped her arms around his shoulders and whispered to him.

“I won’t give up.”

Rook snuggled against her. “I know you won’t,” he told her. “You have me now, and I won’t let you.”

The two of them lingered for a long, affectionate moment. Rook imagined this would be one of a thousand affectionate moments to come, the likes he had never known. Finally, Rook mumbled from within Shiress’ arms “I need to feed you.”

Once extracted from within his bondmate’s embrace, Rook examined the bag that the healer had handed to him. Contained within was a half a sausage, a slice bread and a bit of cheese. Rook handed every bit over to her, piece by piece, determinedly watching to make sure she ate every bite.

“You need to keep up your strength, ” Rook told her. “Keep your body healthy. If I’m away, I can’t help you with that. I can help keep your mind healthy though. You can lean on me if you’re scared. I’ll always be listening for you.”

Already Rook’s mind was buzzing with possibilities. He knew he had excellent pain tolerance. Was there any way he could give it to Shiress? And how was he going to get back in here to see her? Each time he tried would be a risk. Unless…

“Shiress,” Rook said seriously. “I think whatever it is your master wants from you, you should give it to him. It will be easier for me to get to you and help you if you’re not imprisoned.”

Rook

[Shiress]

The small bit of cheese pinched between forefinger and thumb halted halfway to Shiress's mouth. What her bondmate had just asked of her was not shocking, per se, it was something -even in their short time together- something Shiress fully knew already; her fight was not over and she would bend to the will of Radcliffe Lark. For Rook.

The Kelvic's words were eerily close to echoing the words that Elias had spoken to her one evening, not too long ago.. "hold on a little longer", "Do as you're told because I'm coming for you", "just hold out." Those words had come on a tide of hope, only to propel the slave into a much worse situation than she was in at the time. Shiress pressed a hand against her stomach as it sank queasily, eyes flashing angrily.

Placing the cheese on the discarded paper, Shiress stood, irritably wrapping the boy's cloak around herself. More waiting! More enslavement! More pain! More submissiveness! "I'm not even supposed to be here!" she said, anger causing the words to be bitten off one by one as she spoke. "Elias Caldera was supposed to come for me!"

She spun around to face Rook, mouth opening to continue her rant, but the words died in her throat at the sight of him; a young and innocent boy vowing to help and protect a slave all while he himself was enslaved, too.

Gods but she loved him.

Shoulders slumping, Shiress mumbled a curse at her own quick to anger nature. "I'm sorry" she said, eyes burning with a threat of new tears, as she lowered herself down beside her bondmate. "I swear to you that I will do anything I can." she said, then lowered her head to the Kelvic's shoulder.

"I'm just so tired, Rook." she admitted, her words referring to the mental, more so than the physical of her exertions. "I'm just so tired, Rook" she repeated, forcing down a sob with a long, unsteady breath before adding, "and I'm so very scared."

[Rook]

Rook listened to his bondmate’s frustration, her sharp words punctuated by fear and anxiety and anger. He looked at her quietly, extending his support out towards her and hoping desperately it might somehow soothe the emotional turmoil raging through her veins. Rook knew what it was like to feel helpless. To feel as though you didn’t matter. To have the world care nothing of you other than what you gave to it. And Rook had once been in a similar situation to the one that Shiress was in now. Back then, his former master had saved him. Rook wasn’t in a position of power enough to save Shiress with a wave of his hand. But at least he could be strong for her and give her his support.

‘Elias Caldera?’

Who was this Elias Caldera?

Shiress’ pain and anger was too great for Rook to risk asking the question immediately. But as she spun towards him, he felt the anger leave in a rush, replaced by a stab of love that very nearly hurt. As Shiress shuddered her apology and put her head towards Rook’s shoulder, the kelvic wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck.

“It will be okay,” he told her. “We’ll get through this together.” Rook squeezed his bondmate’s shoulders gently. Then, as a quiet afterthought, Rook added. “Who is Elias Caldera?”

Before Shiress could answer, the sound of footsteps emanated from the corridor outside. Rook tensed and spun out of Shiress’ embrace and turned so that his body guarded her form. There was a fraction of a hope somewhere in Rook’s gut. Perhaps it was simply the healer returning. Or perhaps the footsteps would pass them by and move onwards. Both these hopes were in vain, as the knob rattled and the door creaked open.

Something about the man standing there put Rook’s hackles up, even before he felt Shiress’ violently terrified reaction. The man in question was well-dressed, and cleanly groomed, and carried a light aromatic scent about him. But underneath that, there was the just barely concealed, acrid scent of old blood that set Rook’s hair on end.

“Well this is cute.“ The man’s tone was bored and unconcerned, carving a sharp contrast with his intrigued, cold, and analytical eyes. Rook knew the expression that this man fixed him with. It was the same expression Rook fixed to every knew person he met. ‘Who are they to me? Are they a threat? How can I use them?’

“I wasn’t expecting the slave to bond with a kelvic, let alone here. So this is an interesting development, to say the least. Mind telling me how you got in here?”

The man’s words, at face value, were not particularly threatening. But it was the knife-like manner in which he spoke them that made Rook’s instincts shout with danger. If he were not guarding Shiress, he might well have fled then. But with his bondmate’s safety at hand, Rook held his ground.

Something told Rook not to lie. “Secret passage. In the tower.”

The man shook his head, smiling faintly. “Guards have been slacking. Someone will pay for that. Ah well.”

He turned his smile on Shiress for a long moment. “Someone has been misbehaving. Although… there’s a chance we can turn this to our advantage.” His gaze fell back on Rook.

“I’m Radcliff Lark. You just bonded to my slave, mutt. I hope you can make this worth my while.”

Rook

[Shiress]

The sound of Radcliffe Lark's voice sent Shiress into such a pit of dispair and fear as to make her former mistress seem a kitten taimer, and the loss of Rook's embrace only made it worse. As the boy stood, Shiress rose slowly behind him, forehead pressing into the Kelvic's back, trembling hands grasping at the back of his arms, as if he could hide her from the terror that had just strolled into the room.

Shiress's mind went numb with what that voice foretold of her immediate future. How did he find out? How could he have known? The healer? Shiress whimpered, silently hoping that the old healer was OK because she knew that the woman wouldn't have told had she not been forced. Or beaten. It was at that moment that Shiress realized that the sweet old woman, the kind, and gentle healer, must be a slave also.

As Rook answered the slaver's inquiry, Shiress shuttered, tightening the hold she had on his arms; just hearing her bondmate speak to this man, this evil creature, filled her with dread.

"Shhhhhh..." she quietly urged Rook from his back, scared that anything he might say may earn him a beating, too.

She heard the man's footsteps enter the room. “I’m Radcliff Lark. You just bonded to my slave, mutt. I hope you can make this worth my while.” he said, as he began to circle them like a hunter would his prey, his cold azure gaze boring into the two before him. Stopping mere inches from Rook, Radcliffe paused, concentrating a chime before asking, "Who are you, boy?" The words were spoken onto an indiscernible dart of djed, that the slaver sent into the young Kelvic's conscious thoughts, clawing his craft deep to rip the truth from the intruder. As Rook began to speak Radcliffe resumed his menacing waltz.

Coming full circle around the pair of slaves, the man stopped once again in front of Rook, paused, placing one hand on the boy's shoulder and leaning in to whisper, "This" he said, brutally punctuating the word with a rammed fist to Rook's middle, "is for the impertinence of..." The slaver's words cut short, hiking a dark, manicured brow toward Shiress, who had just stumbled backward with a groan of pain, bent over, and now had her arms clutching at her stomach.

"Leave him alone!" she growled through clenched teeth.

Radcliffe shoved Rook away and had Shiress by the back of her hair, slamming her face against the wall behind her. Her vision rocked, then went dark, before clearing slowly. She would have slid down the wall had her master not held her so firmly against it. But, the slaver didn't notice his near-unconscious slave, for his eyes were locked on Rook and his own evident reaction to Shiress's punishment.

An astonished realization crossed Radcliffe Lark's face.

Shoving Shiress toward Rook, the man grabbed them both and forced them down before him on the floor, a malevolent grin spreading across his lips.

"Ahhh yes, it seems we may be able to make this worth my while, after all."

[Rook]

Rook trembled, but even under Radcliff Lark’s imposing words the wolf boy held his fists tightly clenched. He had no idea what to do. He had absolutely no idea what he could possibly do in this situation. He and his bondmate were undenably between a rock and hard place. He felt a cold shiver run through his body and he shook his head fiercely. What could he possibly do to protect Shiress?

“Who are you, boy?” the man asked.

Stubbornness made Rook clench his tongue between his teeth, but in addition to the words Rook felt a sort of...compulsion. It was one he was well familiar with, being the slave to a woman who had some talent with hypnotism, but the compulsion pushing the words out of Rook’s lips was far far stronger than anything Jessica could possibly muster.

“My name is Rook. I’m a slave of Jessica Lazarin.” The wolf boy couldn’t have held those words back any more than he could hold water in his palm.

Rook’s name was of course no interest to the man, but he arched a severely interested eyebrow at the name Lazarin. “Lazarin, huh. Interesting.”

This bit of information was unfortunately not enough to save Rook from a beating. He clenched his teeth as the man slammed his fist into Rook’s stomach. The wolf doubled over, gasping, feeling sparks flashing in the corners of his eye. He was vaguely aware of Shiress’ shout through the sparks of pain, but he doubled down and tensed the muscles in his stomach.

Pain was only temporary. The shock of the blow was certainly enough to startle the wolf boy, but he had grown up in a place where pain was a constant. This? A blow to the stomach? Nothing. Rook fell to the ground as he was shoved away. Deep breaths pushed away the pain. A moment later he felt the shock of a second blow, not his own but Shiress’. He clenched his teeth and doubled over again, but he took another few deep breaths. This. Was. Nothing.

Rook found himself on the floor on his knees beside Shiress. His slow and steady breaths pushed away not only his own pain, but also that of Shiress’. Together, the worst of the pain lifted off of them like a fog. Radcliff’s cruel sneer turned more introspective as the pair’s breathing steadied.

“That’s interesting. Are you doing that mutt?”

Rook was too deep in concentration to answer. He found himself yanked out of his reverie - quite literally - when Radcliff grabbed him by the back of his cloak and forced him upwards to meet his eyes.

“Come on Mutt. I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” Rook said, grinding his teeth.

“Can you do this with other things too?”

Rook stared at the man in confusion, not quite sure what he meant. “I don’t know. What are you saying?”

“Let me put it simple for you. The girl’s previous master put a hypnotic compulsion on her that’s proving...let’s say, difficult to work through. Think you could help me with that?”

Although the words themselves were light, Rook could feel an undercurrent of intensity in the man’s words and eyes. He wasn’t asking. But in spite of this, in spite of the dear and pain, Rook was enough of an opportunist to know when opportunity knocked.

“I might be able to help...if you help me.”

Rook

[Shiress]

Shiress didn't know if herself or her Master was more shocked by her bondmate's admission. For her part, Shiress's shock was more out of confusion. What, exactly, was Rook doing? She lowered her eyes from staring at the wolf, in contemplation. Could Rook control the pain the two shared, or, maybe, the amount or intensity? Shiress thought back to the Kelvic's words, "I can help keep your mind healthy though." Then the slave remembered her Master slamming her against the wall; she hadn't cried out! She hadn't needed to cry out, because the pain wasn't what it should have been; it was dulled somehow, distant, in a way. Was Rook absorbing her pain somehow, or offering her his own defense of it?

Shiress was yanked from her befuddled musing by the mention of her 'previous Master'. Green eyes flew to Radcliffe in appalled understanding -the man had beat her for obstinance that she wasn't completely in control of. Shiress's teeth ground together in anger as her new Master's true, foul, and malicious nature became clear. It was all she could do to not jump up and try and claw the man's eyes out. Again. It wasn't her own will that stayed her at her bondmate's side, however, but the boy's response to her Master's question.

Shiress's reaction would have been little different had someone just doused her with cold water, fearing that her new bondmate's lifespan had suddenly become that of a soap bubble's.

Had he truly just challenged Radcliffe Lark?

To her surprise, her Master just stood glaring at the boy, lips pursing, as the tip of his tongue ran across the front of his teeth. "Help...you" he said, brows lifting as a thumbnail skimmed his jawline. "a Kelvic slave?" he added, chuckling. Radcliffe looked skyward in mock thought, then, crossing his arms over his chest, glared down at Rook. "How, pray tell, could I possibly help you, not to mention, or rather, more importantly, why would I? I could break your little lover" Radcliffe slid his blue gaze to Shiress and lifted two fingers, making a snapping sound, "like that."

The man smiled and there was nothing friendly in it. "A broken slave is a waste, true, but one with such a rare gift, and as lovely as this one," Radcliffe stepped behind Shiress, leaning over her shoulder to run a long finger down and across her chest, his blue gaze never leaving Rook's golden, "might be worth the cost of my own entertainment."

Shiress went rigid as a blade suddenly came across her other shoulder. Radcliffe's gaze hardened on Rook as the sharp end of his dagger slid between the clasps of Shiress's blouse, his voice becoming a dangerous whisper as he spoke again. "Tell me you sad excuse for a mungrel beast, how you dare be so bold as to bargain with me," his dagger sliced upward, separating two of the clasps, "or I'll make you watch how so very easy it will be to shatter her will and leave you with only pieces."

[Rook]

Rook knew his statement had been incredibly bold. He knew that the chance of Radcliff denying him, or hurting either himself or Shiress was very high. But what did he have to lose? His life could very well be forfeit very soon. When one looks death in the face, one finds himself making sudden rash decisions, and taking substantial risks.

Rook tensed as Radcliff threatened Shiress, but he tightened his jaw and held steady, his teeth grinding as his mind spun.

“I may be a kelvic,” Rook said as calm as he could manage. “But Shiress and I are linked now. I can help you get through whatever… whatever that compulsion is. Without a mess, I mean. She’s more useful cooperating than she is broken. And, and…”

Rook found himself beginning to panic but he hunkered down and forced control over himself. His panic would not help Shiress. He took several deep breaths and found himself raising his voice.

“And also, I’m the personal slave of Jessica Lazarin! I could give you information!”

That, definitely caught the man’s attention. He raised an eyebrow.

“But the only way you’ll be able to get that information is if I can go back to her! Because I don’t have much, but I can get more!” Rook took a breath. “And all I ask in return is to be able to visit with Shiress sometimes. I’ll tell you about the Lazarins, and I’ll help you break her compulsion, and that’s all I want in exchange! It's a really good deal!”

Rook sent waves of reassurances at Shiress as Radcliff considered the situation. He was near panicked himself, but he forced himself to stay in control. This was their only shot.

Rook

[Shiress]

The Lark's eyes narrowed in thought at the Kelvic's rather bold audition. Even the Lark's knew one traversed dangerous ground when dealing with the Lazarin's, but inflitrating thm with a spy? Even their slaves were feared amung the commoners, if not by Radcliffe himself, and here he had stummbled upon a Lazarin slave -not just a slave, a personal slave to the Ebonstryfe Commander herself, who had bonded with his own slave. A weakness, a vulnerability, he could exploit if he so chose. A plethora of possibilities played out in the slavers mind all while his eyes never left their scrunity of the boy.

Could a simple Kelvic bond be enough to ensure loyalty? It seemed enough for the boy to place himself in harm's way, even a torturous death if the boy's treason is found out. Radcliffe made a mental note to educate himself further on the subject of Kelvic bonding.

The thin bladed dagger spun, then disappeared behind Shiress's back, resheathed in its booted holster. Radcliffe straightened, clasping his hands behind his back, and began to pace the room. Shiress folded her arms around Rook's middle and buried her face into his shoulder, at a loss as to what to think about it all. She knew nothing of the Lazarin's, save hearing the name mentioned before, and knew even less about spying, but she knew enough to know it sounded dangerous, and her new bondmate was diving headlong into the danger just to protect her.

Shiress felt immense love and admiration for Rook at that moment but still struggled to put words to these new emotions. Instead, not knowing how, she attempted to push these feelings toward Rook, hoping he would somehow know.

After a long while, Radcliffe stopped pacing and turned to face Rook, glaring hard at the boy as if he could see his true intent buried somewhere in his eyes. After what seemed an age, his features somewhat softened, as he came to some sort of conclusion, and spoke. "I want to know who Jessica Lazarin holds council with, who her officers are, the names and rank of all in her retinue. I want copies of order writs and the names of those that sent them. I want copies of maps, camp outlines, and all the little secret notes come in the middle of the night."

The Lark strolled over and knelt behind Rook, placing his hands on either of the boy's shoulders. Leaning in he whispered, "I want to know everything about Jessica Lazarin, right down to the bitches favorite color." His fingers dug hard into the Kelvic's skin, emphasizing his words, "Do I make myself clear, boy?"

"And as far as your little female pet, here," the Slaver waved a dismissive hand toward Shiress as he stood, "once the compulsion is resolved, I want full access to her gnosis; I want her to use it when and however I may have use of it. Show him, in case he does not know of what I speak." Reluctantly, Shiress slid her legs out from underneath her and hiked up the hem of her cloak, revealing the mark of Bala on her calf. The root-like impression etched into her skin shimmered all colors of green imaginable in the dank torchlight.

"This is most important to me." he said, running the tip of his tongue across his thin upper lip. "Do these things, report to me first, and I will grant you two visits within every thirty days. If your..." he paused for show, pronouncing the word meaningfully, "..information..proves valuable to me your visits will increase. I might even allow you some 'alone' time, that is, if I get to watch." Radcliffe smiled deviously.

"So, my little spy, do we have an accord?"

[Rook]

It took every ounce of control in the kelvic’s body not to crumple with relief as Radcliff Lark agreed to his terms. He felt Shiress embrace him from behind and he leaned back into her hug. It would be okay. It was going to be okay.

It was not ideal. Far from it. If anything Rook was putting himself in an incredible amount of danger. He feared the Lazarins more than he did the Larks. But with his bondmate’s safety on the line there wasn’t anything else to be done about it. He had to do it.

Rook listened wearily as Radcliff barked out his list of demands and nodded firmly after each one. Who she holds council with? Check. Who her officers are? Check? Writs, names, orders, notes, favorite color? All check. Rook could feel a cold chill as sweat began to creep down his neck. This would be no easy feat. But there was no choice.

When Radcliff mentioned a gnosis, Rook looked at the man in puzzlement, then stared at the strange mark that Shiress revealed to him. What was it? A tattoo? Not wanting to provoke the man any further, Rook simply nodded. He could learn what it was from Shiress another time. He disliked agreeing to force her behavior, but he gave his bondmate a pleading look before nodding. He desperately needed her cooperation here, and it would be better for both of them if he gave it.

Rook had no idea what Radcliff meant by alone time, or watching said alone time, so he simply nodded. “Yes. I understand. I won’t disappoint you.” The words were bitter on Rook’s lips. It seemed he’d only just gotten a fraction of freedom before he was being bound again in chains. But, Rook realized as he looked at his bondmate, that was alright. If it was for Shiress, he didn’t mind. He would do anything for her. And maybe, he thought as he watched Radcliff’s cruel smile, if the two of them played their cards right it might bring them closer to the freedom they both craved.

Rook

[Shiress]

Your Grades!

Rook

Skills

Tracking +2
Subterfuge +1
Intimidation +2
Negotiation +3
Observation +5
Persuation +3
Intelligence +3

Lores

Tracking - Using scent to find someone
Subterfuge - Lying to gain entrance
Bonding - a sense of wholeness and pure joy
Bondmate - Shiress
Bonmates share pain
Intimidating by snarling, growling, and bristling
Elias Caldera - Shiress's would be rescuer
Radcliffe Lark - A dangerous man
Radcliffe Lark - Shiress's slave master
Negotiation - If you help me, I'll help you
Willing to become Radcliffe Larks spy

Notes
This was such a fun thread! Thank you for being such a great thread partner!
If Ive missed anything, let me know

Shiress