#(this is a self-para because she left no room to reply to this particular point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ryes-up · 7 years

Text

Ariella || Self Para

Rye was tired of having the same disagreements with his brother, but this one was just too far. “You can’t be serious, to just let him walk unscathed. He’s abused the children of his servants, it’s rumoured he’s even raped several of them. I don’t care if he’s a knight, Oberon—“

“Hold your tongue,” the guard standing at Oberon’s side snapped at Rye, taking a step towards him. “You’ll address His Majesty with the proper respect.”

“He’s my brother, and I’ll address him as I have since we were saplings,” Rye snarled back at him.

The guard touched the end of his sword, though didn’t draw it, just a silent threat. Rye knew he was faster, he’d sparred with this particular guard when he was still training to be a knight, but he didn’t make a move towards his own sword. “You wouldn’t dare draw your sword in the throne room.” He averted his gaze to look back at Oberon, who was watching the exchange with something close to idle amusement. “Unless your guard beheading me at your feet is another excusable crime.”

Finally Oberon raised a hand. “Knight, you may leave me and my brother alone. We have much to discuss.” Rye didn’t even give the guard the kindness of acknowledgement as he left, instead keeping his eyes on Oberon.

“No one will say it, but that halfling that the medic was unable to save last week, you know he raped his servant and fathered that child. He hardly made it look like an accident to kill them both.”

Oberon stayed silent for a long minute before rising from his throne to approach Rye. Rye didn’t move, waiting silently until his brother was within an arm’s breadth, and reached out to embrace him. Rye embraced his brother, like he hadn’t in years, only tensing when he heard the quiet voice in his ear. “That knight did what he had to in order to protect the reputation of the Court. Do not fault those that have blood on their hands for my sake, Rye. Your hands are not as clean as you’d have the people to believe.”

Rye drew back, watching his brother with a mix of disbelief and betrayal as he realized what was being said. “Ariella,” he choked out uneasily, “Was an accident.”

Oberon offered him the smile that he’d seen given to so many others. The kind of smile that appeared kind, but there was a hint of malice, of threat behind it. It had never been directed at Rye, and it made his breath catch in his chest. “An accident, or what you had to do to protect our family, our Court, me. I do not judge you, Rye. I never have. I keep your secret, just as you’ll keep that of the knight.”

To his credit, Rye didn’t shake or lose his footing as he took a step back form his brother, nodding in silent assent at the barely concealed threat. He turned to leave without another word, intending to flee far from the castle and the spend the remainder of the day in the forest… Or seeking out that long lost village he’d never dared return to. He wasn’t sure yet.

“Lord Hawthorne,” the voice came like the twist of a knife in Rye’s gut. The title, when spoken through any other lips, was one of respect, of acknowledgement of his status. Spoken in the voice that now addressed him though, it was worse than an insult. It was the cold distancing of family that he’d never known distance from. It was his brother preferring to acknowledge him by status rather than by blood. Rye turned to find Oberon back in his throne. “Send the guards back in as you leave.”

It was a request that didn’t need to be made. The guards would have returned when they saw Rye leave regardless of what Rye said to them. His brother only wanted to make clear where Rye stood at that moment, and it wasn’t a place Rye was deeply familiar with. He bowed low, as he only had done a small handful of times to his brother, never in private, only for show when the entire Court was present. But it was what Oberon silently demanded of him now. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Rye! Rye!” Ariella’s voice called across the fields, forcing Rye to pull at his horse’s reins, slowing her to a stop. He turned to face where the voice came from, and saw her running towards him, long dark blonde hair having half fallen out of the ribbon she tied it back with. Rye jumped down form his horse, taking a few steps towards her. A quick glance behind her showed that she’d dismounted her horse several yards back, though had been in too much of a hurry to tie him up.

“Calm down, what is it that’s got you in such a panic?” he questioned, eyes searching her over for injuries. She appeared unscathed, though in far more a state of disarray than he’d ever seen her in. A halfling treated as a servant and messenger by the Aven family, though Rye had known her for so many years that he treated her more friend than servant.

“Back here, please. No one can overhear.” She gave him barely enough time to tie his horse up before dragging him away from the road into the forest. When she deemed that they were far enough form the road, Ariella pressed the half-wrapped package into his hands, tears streaming down her face. “I know I wasn’t supposed to open it— I didn’t, I promise, Rye. It just— it fell as I was riding, into a bush of thorns and the wrapping tore. I can’t— Rye, I can’t deliver it. Please, you have to know, someone must. Your brother—“ She broke off, apparently reading her mistake on Rye’s face.

“My brother? What’s this to do with him?” She just shook her head, and Rye opened the torn wrapping, eyes scanning the order written on the wooden plate inside. He shook his head, shocked and disgusted. “This— No. Oberon wouldn’t— This is a forgery, Ariella.”

“It isn’t,” she said weakly. “Rye, it isn’t. His personal guard handed it to me himself.”

“But he didn’t,” Rye stated. “So his guard forged it— Or someone did. Oberon wouldn’t—“

“Rye, listen to yourself! It’s right there in front of you.”

“No, Oberon wouldn’t order an entire village to be destroyed Seelie supporters or not, there are women, and saplings in that village.”

“And he ordered them to follow him, or have every last fae in that village killed,” Ariella pleaded with him to believe her, but he just rewrapped the wooden plate and started back towards the road. “Where are you going?”

“To give this to Oberon,” he said simply, as though it was obvious. He jerked to a stop when a hand grabbed his arm.

“You can’t! Do you know what he’ll do to me? Rye, please.”

“He’ll do nothing to you,” Rye replied, tearing his arm from her grasp. “But to the traitor that forged this? They'll pay a heavy price.”

“No, Rye, give it back to me,” Ariella lunged for the plate, but Rye sidestepped her easily. She lunged again, this time her nails digging into his arm.

“I’ll not give it back to you, I’ll prove it to you! This is a forgery. My brother is a good man, he’d never give these orders.”

“Give it back, I’ll take it to the rightful King—“ When she lunged that time, Rye shoved her harder than he intended to, though not hard enough for the traitorous words she spoke. She fell hard to the ground, crying out when she landed.

“You’re wrong, Ariella,” Rye snapped, turning his back on her. He took a few steps, bracing to feel her hands cling at him again, or her voice calling out. But there was nothing. he glanced over his shoulder, becoming as still as she was when his eyes landed on her. “Ariella?” He called out quietly. “Ariella…”

The wooden plate fell to the ground as Rye spun back around, slipping on damp leaves in his haste to reach her. He grabbed her shoulder, shaking it gently at first, then more roughly, until her head fell to one side, the gash at the base of her skull revealed. The stone she’d fallen on had cut a jagged line, at least a couple inches deep. Her eyes stared into the distance, vacant of the life that had been there only moment before. Rye’s hands were shaking, but he didn’t realise that he was crying until the clear liquid fell, mixing with the blood that was slowly coating the neck of her dress. “Ariella, Ariella,” he chanted her name under his breath, as though her eyes would open if her spoke it aloud enough times.

her skin had started to grow cold by the time Rye tore himself away from her, his bloody hands shaking as he rewrapped the wooden plate and tucked it under his arm. He looked back at her once more before taking off towards the road at a sprint. As he threw himself onto his horse, he barely registered that Ariella’s was still standing where she’d left him, obediently waiting for a master that wouldn’t return. Rye pushed his horse as fast as he could as they rode back to his home, where he searched for Oberon. He didn’t know what to do, he was panicked and terrified. All he knew was that he had to find his brother. His brother would fix it all. He cast a glamour before dismounting his horse, hiding the bloodstained clothes, and the sweaty, haggard look that he’d gathered since leaving Ariella’s side.

“Oberon! Where’s Oberon, I need to find him.” The servant that Rye had run up to stared at him with wide eyes, but pointed him in the direction of the sitting room. Rye found his brother and Seraphina there, and nodded to each respectfully before addressing the latter. “I need to speak with my brother, alone please.” His voice didn’t shake, though it was not from any self control he’d gained in the last five seconds. He’d practiced a cool indifference when speaking to the woman for so long that it was second nature now. His dislike of her upset Oberon, but there was no way he’d ever be able to be cordial to her, so this was the best he could manage. For a moment it seemed that Seraphina would refuse his request, until Oberon stood and closed the distance to put a hand on Rye’s shoulder.

“We can continue this later, can we not, mother? I haven’t seen Rye all day.” She left easily after that, and Rye’s eyes turned desperate and pleading as he looked towards his brother.

“Oberon, you have to come quickly. I—It was a mistake. It was an accident. All a stupid accident because of a stupid lie, and Ariella—“

“Brother, breathe,” Oberon said, and Rye obeyed, taking a shaky breath, fresh tears forming in his eyes already. “Now tell me what happened, form the beginning.” Rye took two more breaths until he felt like he could speak without screaming or crying, and told Oberon everything, from the forged orders to where Ariella now lay lifeless in the forest.

“Give it to me,” Oberon said when he was done, holding his hand out for the package. The wrapping on it was barely shreds now, after the struggle, being dropped into the damp leaves, and the swift return from the forest. Oberon took it, reading over it silently, the look on his face something that Rye couldn’t place. “Did she show it to anyone else?”

“I don’t think so,” Rye said.

“But do you know? Do you know that she showed it to no one?” Oberon demanded. Rye understood the anger; in light of the war, a lie such as this, the belief that Oberon could be so cruel, it would turn many against him.

“She didn’t say she’d shown anyone. I don’t believe she would have. She came straight to me.” The words seemed to placate his brother, as Oberon’s shoulders relaxed with assurances. Oberon reached out, squeezing Rye’s shoulder and leaning over to press a kiss against the top of his head.

“Thank you, brother. I’ll ensure whoever is guilty of this treachery is dealt with. Now, just tell me where Ariella’s body is. And I’ll make sure this all goes away. No one need ever know of what happened today.”

“My Lord, may I please accompany you?” Keelin asked for the third time. Any other nobleman would have struck him for not accepting the first answer, and it had taken Keelin over a year to realize that he didn’t need to fear the same from Rye.

“This is just something I need to do on my own, Keelin,” Rye said, sighing heavily.

“But what if Nissa spooks? What if a storm approaches, and you’re alone?”

“Then I’ll find my way back, as I always do,” Rye said in answer to the second question. Drawing a hand down Nissa’s mane, he didn’t deem the first with an answer. It wasn’t that Nissa never spooked, or had never thrown him, but each time, she returned to him, head held low in silent apology. Keelin was already eyeing the other horses in the stable, and Rye could see the intent to follow in the servant’s eyes. “Please, allow me this. Allow me the respect of not forcing me to relive the darkest hours of my life in front of prying eyes.”

“There’s nothing you could do or have ever done that will make me think less of you.”

“That’s not my worry. You may not think less of me, but I will.” If what he feared was true, then Rye wasn’t sure he should even be making the journey. But he had to. Keelin bowed low, speaking of nothing else except having dinner prepared when Rye returned, before leaving the stables.

Not long after, Rye sat atop Nissa, the same horse he’d ridden in the forest that day. At the time, it had been only weeks since Finn had won the mare in a card game and given her to Rye. Now she was Rye’s best and favorite horse. The one he took when he needed to get away, when he escaped to the forest, when he needed to only be surrounded by those he trusted, including the only other eyes that knew of what had transpired in the forest. Those eyes that had never judged or looked at him differently because of it.

Now they both sat at the bottom of the hill, neither daring to reach the top. On the other side was the village that would be burnt to the ground, according to the orders Ariella had been carrying. It wasn’t far from Belladonna, not even half a day’s ride. But Rye had avoided coming out here since that day. Whether it was because verifying that village still stood would feel like betrayal for doubting his brother, or because he didn’t want to see if it really had been reduced to ash, he wasn’t sure. But he had to know. After his brother bringing up that day that they swore to never speak of again, he had to know.

“Walk on,” Rye said quietly, and Nissa moved without any other prodding. Something painful and hard twisted in Rye’s stomach before they even reached the top of the hill. He knew what they’d find there. He just hadn’t wanted to see it, but he knew. As they reached the top of the hill, what came into view where a village had once stood, was just rubble, old settlements reclaimed by nature. Nissa carried him forward of her own accord, Rye’s hands having gone slack on the reins as he took in the sight. It had been true. He’d known, afterwards, even if not that day in the forest with Ariella, but at some point, he’d known. But seeing it, seeing the destruction, almost peaceful now that it was overgrown with bushes and flowers, ripped the breath from his lungs.

When she stopped at the edge of the ghostly memory of a village, Rye nearly fell from the saddle, clawing his way towards the nearest pile of stones. He picked one up with shaking hands, dropping it almost immediately as if burned. His eyes were drawn to a tree near where Nissa stood. He didn’t need to get any closer to see the missive on the wooden plate tacked onto the tree. He could see the seal from where he sat in the dirt, and he knew what the rest would say, even years after the ink had faded away. The words were burned into his mind’s eye.

Nissa approached, gently nudging his shoulder with her nose, and he raised a hand automatically to run through her mane. He turned and pressed his face against her cheek, eyes closed tight against the destructive truth that he hadn’t wanted to see years ago, but the tears came now.

#npc: Oberon #used with permission #but I will remove him or edit anything as deemed necessary #selfpara #sorry it's forever long #originally for the evil deeds challenge but i took too long to write it #ariella

2 notes · View notes