#|| ellafain

[meryllfrey]

Ellafain: Witcher

NAME: Ellafain RACE: Elf (Aen Seidhe) PROFESSION: Soldier (Former Scoia'Tael)

FACECLAIM: Astrid Bergés-Frisbey

[rhymingpredictions]

fallesto: continued from x

WITH THIS LAST DEED DONE HE HAD BETRAYED EVERYTHING HE KNEW AND LOVED…

The Nilfgaardian commander who had ordered the execution of Ves and Val had shared their fate. He had made it clear to the elf that he was not to be touched. She could do what she wanted with the others, kill them however she wished, but that one was his and he would not allow her or anyone to take that kill from him.

They killed them all, not a single one was spared. Their age, their rank and length of service - it didn’t matter.

To him they all played there part and he killed them all, but for the Nilfgaardian commander, he was made to watch - from the safety of his sealed room he watched through the window as his men were cut down. Slaughtered like hounds - it didn’t matter what was thrown at them, any Nilfgaardian that got in there way was cut to pieces, no clean quick kills on this night - it was a messy job and for the commander, he no doubt wished for a quick death.

He hanged him - with the same rope that they had used to hang Val with, he hanged the commander from a wooden beam in the garrison and he made it slow, dropping him down to the ground and allowing him to gather his breath - and then pulling him back up. He dragged it out, painfully for hours until the commander passed.

That sound have been it - he should have left, but the offer for a drink with the elf, for items that Ves had trusted to her and above all else - for stories of the daughter he never knew, he remained. He drank with her, listened to all that she had to tell him. There was no shame in it, that he felt tears sting his eyes and that moment of vulnerability had lead to a mistake.

“Don’t - I am telling you now, don’t even think about it!”

He spoke coldy as he looked at the elf. He had been awake far longer than her. He had not moved an inch, but he had managed to reach fro his crossbow, load it with a bolt and have it at his side for this moment. The second she moved he had pointed it at her, she was fast, but a bolt in the back of her leg would fix that as he aimed it right at her as he sat up a little.

He knew what they had done, he was not fucking stupid. You don’t wake up naked beside a dying fire with a woman at your side and not have done the deed. His eyes narrowed a little but, he felt sick - that he had betrayed Ves, but above all else, that he had slept with an elf.

“Don’t think I won’t kill you. Drop your weapons.”

@fallesto (Roche)

Vernon was everything people said of him. Absolutely ruthless when it came to protecting (or avenging) his squad, he didn’t shy away from violence, or pain, or torture. Her own opinion was that it was all a bit much, the execution of the garrison’s commander, but then she sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to stop Vernon when he was so hell-bent on drawing out the man’s suffering as long as possible. It didn’t bring Ves back. Val neither. And it wouldn’t stop the Nilfgaardians from doing the same thing again and again all across the realm. 

Maybe Vernon got something out of it, maybe not. But whatever it was, he’d needed to do it, so she’d stayed out of his way. Anyone with half a brain probably would have gotten the hell out of there -- the man was clearly insane -- but she’d stayed. It hadn’t been out of respect, that was certain. Maybe she just needed to see the job done.

She didn’t respect him, didn’t even like him much, and yet all evidence pointed to the fact that she’d liked him just fine the night before. It wasn’t a situation she’d ever expected to be in, buck naked in middle of the woods with Vernon Roche pointing a crossbow at her. He’d had her in his sights the second she moved. It was impressive, for a dh’oine.

She had her weapons in hand, she could have dove at him and taken the risk that he’d shoot. Of course he’d shoot, he wasn’t the type to pull his punches, but most likely he wouldn’t hit her anywhere fatal and she knew for a fact he wasn’t wearing any more clothes than she was. Her blade would slice through him nicely.

They had no reason to work together any longer, and yet neither was there any reason they should be at each other’s throats. She decided to take her chances and let the blades fall from her hands. Before they even hit the ground, she reached out to snatch her cloak away from him.

“I didn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to do,” she muttered, wrapping the cloak around herself.

[rhymingpredictions]

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

@fallesto (Roche)

They had cleaned out the Nilfgaardian garrison, the village was still standing -- they should have celebrated. Ves and Val had been avenged, and she had expected to feel something -- a relief, a lessening in the guilt and grief, something. Only that feeling hadn’t come.

They could have just left it there, parted ways -- any reason for their working together had ended once the last of the Nilfgaardians had been killed. But it still felt unfinished, like there was still more to be done. She had given him the items that Ves had entrusted to her, and so it only seemed right to drink to Ves’s memory. And to drink to Val’s memory. And to the dead Nilfgaardians. And to unlikely pairings. In truth, there had been far too many drinks.

That was never so apparent as when she woke up, naked under her cloak, with a warm body pressed up against hers, its scent foreign to her. Foreign, but not unfamiliar. 

The fire had long since gone out, but it was warm under the cloak despite the chill in the air. It seemed Vernon’s body heat matched his fiery temper. As much as she didn’t want to move, she could already feel the him stirring awake and she feared his reaction. 

Knowing he would be awake and ready to act in an instant, she moved quickly, rolling to the side and ending up in a low crouch as she retrieved her weapons from the ground.