Chapter Text
“No.” Your voice was stern, your eyes didn’t even look up from the plate in front of you. A hefty helping of roasted potatoes being pushed around by the metal fork in your hand.
“I am offering you a hefty sum of gold.” the man’s voice pleaded with you.
He was leaning over the table in an attempt to keep the volume of the conversation between the two of you down.
The tavern was lively, but not as lively as it could be. A bard continued to play his lute across the room in front of a massive hearth. The fire roared and spread heat through the room, warding off the chill of the late autumn air. Several patrons were sitting at the bar and various tables, either lost in conversations or the food in front of them.
Your small table was tucked in the corner, away from the bustle of the normal crowd. It’s not that you preferred the quiet, no, there were nights where you would be leading the drinking songs. But tonight, you just wanted to eat in peace.
An hour before you arrived at the tavern, you had just finished a job that had promised more gold than it delivered.
The life of a mercenary was not as glorious as your child self thought it was. It wasn’t slaying dragons and protecting royalty from assassins; quite the opposite, it was just another way to say ‘glorified messenger’. Bringing packages from one hold in the land to another, staying awake through the night to discover why a farmer’s crops were disappearing.
It was usually a beggar.
Poor sods were usually so hungry that you would turn a blind eye, find a wolf, kill it, and bring it to the farmer, claiming it to be the reason for the missing crops. This way the beggar wouldn’t have their thumbs cut off for stealing.
Not that you were any better than a beggar at this point. Money was tight. The gold you had in your pouch was enough to pay for your dinner and one more pint of ale.
The only difference between you and the homeless on the cobblestone street was the sword on your hip.
“I am well aware of the amount you offer, but you must think me mad to go anywhere near Miroh.”
Miroh . Fellow mercenaries have left for jobs– simple ones– and have not returned.
And yet, this man in front of you has the gall to not only request that you go near the Hold’s borders, but to enter their walls.
A stiff silence sits between the two of you. You bring your fork down and stab a potato, plopping it in your mouth and looking at the man for the first time since he sat across from you.
Greasy, black hair sat on his head, hanging in front of his eyes. The man was wearing a noble's robe; but if you looked closer, you could see how worn the fabric was. Burn holes littered the sleeves and the hem near the ground was absolutely filthy.
He looked to be about middle aged.
“Thrice the amount, then.”
You paused.
Swallowing your mouthful of food, you placed your fork back on the table. Tonguing your cheek and shifting on your seat.
Individually, you cracked each knuckle on both hands, your mind reeling.
“Explain the job to me once more.”
The man let out a sigh of relief, you quickly held your hand up before he began.
“I am not yet agreeing, I want to hear more details prior to anything.”
He nodded, tensing up once more.
“I require your protection as I finalize a trading contract between my company and Miroh. We specialize in the exchange of foreign goods across the water.”
“We would be meeting with the Jarl directly?”
“Nay, he does not deal with petty things like trading contracts,” the man scoffs and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “We would be meeting with someone in his court, Han Jisung. I have been discussing this deal with him via letters for months.”
“If you are only meeting on a predetermined agreement, why do you push for protection?” You ask, picking up your pint of honeyed ale, taking a long sip.
The man’s eyes looked to the side, setting off alarm bells in your mind. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.
“If I am to protect you, I will need to know all the details.”
He shifted on his chair, clearly uncomfortable, clearly hiding something. His tongue poked from his lips to wet them nervously.
“In the past, I may have…” he hesitated, “I may have skimmed from the top of their goods.”
One of your eyebrows raised, mug still in front of your face.
“But that was many years ago. Han Jisung spoke of mending these ties in his letters.” he explains, looking back to your eyes. “Our company is the best in the land. High quality goods for a fair price, they must have realized that in our absence. Miroh simply wishes to use our services once more.”
You place your now empty mug onto the table, looking down at the old wood.
There is no way this is going to go smoothly. Every sense of danger was ringing in your mind to reject this deal.
With the reputation Miroh has, they let a merchant skim their goods and are crawling back ?
Patrons of the tavern begin to sing, surrounding the bard. Your eyes shifted up to take in the happy sight, smiles on all of their faces, happy flushes on their skin from the alcohol buzzing through their veins.
The lute’s strings sounded beautiful to your ears. Life here is alright, you are making it work.
But the almost empty gold pouch at your hip seemed heavier than when it had gold inside it.
“Five times my normal amount.” You meet eyes with the man. His jaw clenched for a moment, considering your offer. He doesn’t seem pleased in the least bit.
But it seems he has no choice.
An entire verse of the bard’s song passed before he reached across the table, extending his hand.
You clasp hands with him.
“At first light we leave for Miroh.”
Gautier.
You learn his name three days into your journey; just as you are being led through the never ending hallways of Miroh’s keep. The stone walls seem… warmer than you expected of the Hold.
Even when you first crossed the border, it wasn’t fires and crying children like you had heard whispers of.
It seemed… better than where you had come from.
Where are all the miserable folk and wounded soldiers? Where are the bandits that supposedly run rampant in these parts?
When you are shown into a room, there are two men already waiting inside. One was much stockier than the other, his arm muscles on display due to the open nature of his heavy armor. Beautifully crafted gauntlets covered his forearms. A large battle axe strapped to his back, a neutral expression on his face.
The other man sat behind a desk, a sneaky looking smile already displayed across his round cheeks. He wore true noble robes made of various silks and expensive threads.
His clothing made Gautier’s look like no more than a potato sack with arm and leg holes.
Both of their eyes flicker to you and Gautier as you cross the threshold. The larger man, clearly his protection, surveys you closely.
He has no doubt clocked every single weapon strapped to your body.
Perhaps save for the one silver dagger you keep tucked inside your boot.
You mirror his movements, scanning his entire body up and down. One battle axe and three throwing knives on his belt. When your eyes meet him again, there’s an imperceptible twitch to the corner of his mouth.
“Guatier!” the smaller man exclaims, standing from his position behind the desk.
“Jisung, it has been a long while, my friend.” Guatier’s entire demeanor changes. This fake mask slides over his face and he becomes a different person. It takes every fiber of your being not to roll your eyes.
Guatier walks up to Jisung and they shake hands over the desk. You remain by the door, arms crossed over your chest.
“I see you have a new guard, Guatier.” Jisung motions over to you as he sits back down. Guatier does not even look back at you before waving him off.
“Do not mind her, she is only hired muscle.”
“Still, you know we cannot have outside ears hearing of our deals.” Jisung leans forward, his voice lowering a bit.
Your eyebrow quirks, you finally break eye contact with Jisung’s body guard to look over at Guatier’s back. He doesn’t even turn to look at you.
A scoff comes out of his mouth. “She will not understand any of what we speak of. Her simple mind knows only battle, it is all she is good for. No complex thoughts to be found in that head.”
Typically, you choose to keep a stoic face no matter what, especially on the job. But, in this moment, you cannot control the anger that flicks across your features.
Oh, the slimy bastard…
Jisung’s eyes look back at you again, his brows furrowed for a split second. He watches your emotions change and the corner of his lips twitch into a half smile.
“Still,” he starts, his gaze stays on you for another moment before he looks back at Gautier, his look darkens for a moment. “Even fools can repeat words.”
Jisung meets your eyes once more. They linger, almost as if he’s looking right through your soul. His expression softens when he lays his eyes on you.
“Changbin,” Jisung says and the guard doesn’t even flinch, but his eyes shift down to the other man. “Please bring the ‘hired muscle’ out to another room so we may conduct our business.”
The guard, Changbin, nods once and walks towards you quickly. His heavy boots thud on the wooden floor with every step.
You look back at Guatier, who only now has decided to turn around in his chair to look at you. Horror and anxiety flashes across his face; but you cannot find it within yourself to feel any pity.
A strong hand grips your upper arm and you’re forcefully led out of the office.
“Now, why don’t we begin by discussing your pre-” the door closes before you can hear the rest of Jisung’s sentence to your ‘boss’.
Changbin’s grip on your arm doesn’t loosen as he leads you down the hall. The grip is borderline painful through the fabric.
Deciding not to say anything about it, you just clench your jaw and let him drag you further and further away from the man you were supposed to be protecting.
Would it be the worst thing in the world if Guatier was killed, though?
Your mind pauses, weighing the options.
No, no it wouldn’t be.
Because he had given you half of the payment up front before you left for the journey.
Still, your honor was on the line for this.
It wasn’t until you rounded two more corners into a more open common area that Changbin’s grip loosened on your arm. You shook off his hold and glanced at his stern face one more before walking away from him.
Four other guards stood on either side of two separate door ways. All looking bored.
“Do not venture.” he grumbles, it was the first time you heard his voice.
“Interesting command given that you led me from my employer.”
Your eyes scan the room around you, it seems to be a library of sorts. Shelves line each wall with books and various items littered along them.
“You work for his company?”
“Nay,” you scoff, “I do not wish to work for that slime. I am only a mercenary, Guatier hired my sword to get him here safely and insure he leaves with his head.”
Changbin only grunts in acknowledgment as you walk over to one of the shelves. Gently, you reach up and spin a glass bottle to turn the label, allowing yourself to see behind you through the reflection.
In the distorted glass, you can see Changbin’s eyes watching you carefully, both hands staying at his side. He’s studying your movements very carefully.
You look away from the reflection, tilting your head to scan over the various titles of books on the shelf.
“Hm,” you hum, fingering at one of the books, “ Spider With Gold , I have not seen this book in many years…” you whisper wistfully.
There’s a shift behind you.
“You are able to read?”
You turn around to look at Changbin, who, for the first time, seems almost bashful. His hands twitched as his sides and he is only able to hold your eye contact for a moment before looking off to the side.
“Aye, scholars should not be the only ones able to read and document history.” you turn back to the bookshelf. “Do you not know how?”
Looking up in the reflection of the bottle, you see Changbin shift his weight from one boot to the other, his eyes boring holes into your back.
“Nay.” he says firmly, “Never learned how.”
“Shame.” you utter softly.
A long, stiff silence settles in the room.
You learned to read at a very young age, your mother made sure to teach you the letters as soon as your brain was able to retain it.
‘The more you read, the more you will know. And the more you know will ensure that no one will outsmart you, my dear.’
Books took up most of the spare space you had in your traveling pack. Every once in a while, when you would get an interesting quest that went into bandit nests, you were able to find one or two new ones to add to your never ending collection.
If you’re being truthful with yourself, it broke your heart that Changbin could not read, he could not enjoy the simple pleasure that reading could bring. Nor could he pick up on sword tricks written down through the centuries.
Just when it feels like the room could not get any quieter, a shrill scream bellows through the stone halls.
Your head snaps up to look in the reflection of the bottle just as a guard raises his sword behind you, intending to strike.
“Wait!”
Everything in your body suddenly comes alive at the impending danger. Your weight shifts and you leap out of the way.
A loud crash is heard as the guard’s sword slices through the wooden shelves.
“Of course.” you mutter, quickly regaining your balance.
Another soldier comes from your right, swinging his sword in an upwards strike, you dodge by spinning to the left. At the same time, your hand quickly unsheathes your sword.
Mid-spin, instincts take over and you raise your sword to clash with another guard’s. Both of your swords swing around in an arc to free them. Instead of completing the arc, you pull back and raise your boot to kick the guard right in the gut.
He lurches forward in pain and you, never missing an opportunity, bring your sword down and slice his head from his neck immediately.
One down.
The first guard seems to have recovered, but only for a moment. He eyes watch as his friend is decapitated; his face drains of all color and eyes snap up to yours.
A wicked smile crosses your face as you take advantage of his moment of weakness. Your sword plunges right through his gut, his mouth immediately coughing up a sick amount of blood.
Quickly, you pull your sword back. There’s a small sense of danger ringing in the back of your mind, so you jump away from where you were standing right before a sword splits the air.
Changbin, flanked by the two remaining guards, is staring at you with a curious look in his eyes. Just by studying his face, you can practically see his mind racing with numerous thoughts.
Why does he look so torn?
His battle ax is clasped firmly in his large hands, knees bent in a perfect battle stance.
With your feet firmly planted on the floor, you take a brief moment to size the three of them up. The guard to Changbin’s right leaps at you first, his sword swinging wildly in short, choppy arcs. Untrained technique, a definite beginner.
You almost feel bad for a split second, poor thing probably never expected this.
Nevertheless, it’s kill or be killed at this moment, and it’s only a matter of time before more guards start flooding into the room.
You raise your sword to block one of the strikes. The sound of metal hitting metal is ear piercing. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the last guard. reaching back for a powerful strike.
Thinking quickly, you grab the younger guard's arm, yanking him towards you and into the trajectory path of the second guard’s sword, stepping out of danger.
The second guard slices into his comrade by accident, both of them letting out shrill screams.
Before the second guard could recover from his accidental killing, you swing your sword in a massive arc and instantly kill him.
Both bodies drop to the ground in a heap.
Without giving yourself time to breathe, you turn around sharply to look at Changbin, who hasn’t moved a single muscle in the last minute. He stood there, wide-eyed, watching as you massacred his fellow soldiers and did absolutely nothing about it.
The two of you make eye contact for a long moment.
Your chest heaving with heavy pants from the exertion, hand tightening around the handle of your sword.
There is only a split second to think about your next move. Maybe even less.
Fear and adrenaline are coursing through your veins.
Why isn’t he attacking you? Why is he just standing there?
Your mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton into it, sweat dripped down your back.
Changbin’s foot shifted on the floor and you quickly made your decision.
You turned around and ran .
“ Hey! ” you heard Changbin scream behind you as you rounded the corner out of the room.
Which way did you come from? Which way was the way out? Once you get out of the keep, you should be fine.
Your light leather boots made soft thuds on the floor as you sprinted through the stone maze. Sheathing your sword in the process, your eyes wildly scan around for anything familiar.
Changbin’s voice could be heard every few seconds as he chased you through the keep.
To The Void with Guatier, you needed to get out of here. You knew you shouldn’t have taken this job. You just knew it.
When you round one corner, you smack directly into someone, but your momentum knocks them over, your steady balance keeping you on your feet.
The guard stumbles to the ground with a yelp, looking up at you with an extremely startled expression.
“Jeongin!” Changbin yells off in the distance, “Grab her!”
Jeongin snaps his head in the direction of Changbin’s voice, then back up at you. You don’t stick around to see his next move, your legs already carrying you far away from the guard on the ground.
It’s close, the entrance is close, you vaguely remember these hallways. It has to be close.
Once you’re out of the keep, you’ll run and never look back. You will never enter Miroh again, you won’t even come within fifty leagues of the Hold.
A solid hand gripped the back of your light armor, fingers pulling on the leather straps.
With a yelp, you’re yanked backwards and thrown onto the floor. Your head collides with the stone floor with a solid crack .
Pain blossoms from the impact and your vision blacks out for a split moment.
The adrenaline coursing through you keeps you from passing out, you quickly shake your head to clear the confusion.
Jeongin is standing over you with an almost apologetic look. He looks up behind you, then back down at you.
“Do not just stand there! Grab her, bind her hands!” Changbin commands, his voice closer than before.
Panic seizes your body and as Jeongin reaches for you, you kick your foot out on the ground right into his gut.
A loud, pained exhale is shoved from his lungs and he doubles forward, clutching the area you just kicked.
“If you would just-” Jeongin wheezes out in between pained breaths.
You don’t listen, you clamber to your feet. The back of your head throbbing worse and worse with each passing second.
Just as you’re about to take off down the hall again, a strong hand grabs your wrist and turns your arm, trapping it behind your back.
You’re roughly shoved against the cobblestone wall, one arm pinned behind you.
Hot, deep pants are felt on the back of your neck, you notice the hand holding your wrist is clammy.
“By The Six, woman,” Changbin breathes out, mouth close to the back of your neck.
You struggle for a moment, trying desperately to break his hold on you. Changbin only tightens his grip.
“Jeongin,” he practically growls, the guard grunts in response, still cradling his gut in pain. “Fetch me some rope, make it quick.”
Jeongin grunts again and limps off.
Changbin leans down closer, lips right next to your ear.
The heat coming from his body is insane, it feels like his entire front is pressed against your back to keep you against the wall.
Not that you have any fight left in your body, the adrenaline is wearing off and the pain from your skull is getting worse by the second. Each beat of your heart shoots a splinter of pain through your skull.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Changbin basically growls, his breath brushing against your ear.
“If you are to kill me, do it already. Why extend my torture?” You close your eyes, letting your face rest on the wall. When did your fingertips go numb?
“Kill you?” Changbin lets out a chuckle behind you. “And waste a sword arm like yours? Nay, I believe we may have better use for you.”
The world was fading fast, towards the end of his sentence, it sounded like his voice was three rooms away.
“Sir, I have the rope.” Jeongin’s voice was the last you heard before your body collapsed.