Imprints in Stone [AU]

[Carver Amell]

Good thing too -- because he turns beet red.

[Isabela]

Their two-month contract up, and Zevran well back on his feet, the pair of star-crossed lovers decide to go hunting his former master -- the sooner they get that fucker in the ground, the safer Zevran will be, Isabela figures. Along the way, however, they decide to test their mettle against a dangerous raider to see if they're really ready.

The fact that she was starting to call herself the Bandit Queen despite not controlling a network of bandits, or having so much as a base of operations, didn't factor into it one bit. "If I were the jealous type, I'd point out that to be a Queen you need subjects," Isabela pointed out, offhandedly, clearly not caring one bit.

They debated plans of attack, but ultimately decided to play to their strengths: creeping in under cover of darkness, looking for the silent assassination. "And the looting, of course. Booty is the most important part of adventuring. How else will we get our ship?"

(She said things like that, Zevran's Bela. Our ship. We. She didn't notice she was doing it, but she said them anyway.)

Sneaking past the guards was practically child's pay for the assassin and the thief. Picking the lock was a little harder, but she knew how to get past even expensive locks by now, just from sheer practice with them. Exchanging one last glance to ensure they were both ready, they push open the door, peering into the darkness within.

Only to find they've been the victims of a bait-and-switch. Sitting in the darkness in a chilled room, frozen in fear, cohabitating with her own waste, is a young half-elf. The girl's long hair is braided back off her face, and she seems pudgy, clearly too well fed to have been captive for long. Only her eyes betray her -- they show a level of terror both find heartbreakingly familiar. The fear of a captive, too terrified to hope for anything more than the next horror. And yet, she wears a fine silken nightgown and a clearly magical gemstone at her throat: a blood-red ruby, on a jet black choker.

[Tethras Clan]

Those eyes. Slave eyes. Hurt eyes, lost eyes. Zevran has to carefully, pointedly, painfully, remind himself that not all slaves wish to be free, not all slaves- or captives- are allies, are safe to trust or depend on, even with helping them. 

"Hello there," he murmurs, glad that he's kept up the practice of disguising himself as a merikos elf. It's... painful, almost the freedom and ease it grants him. A temptation greater than any drug or bed game he's sampled. It would be so very easy to simply never stop, to forever hide what he is. The only thing that stops him is the thought that Isabela might one day forget as well. That she might forget that there's a darkness in his flesh, in his blood, that can't be trusted. "Don't suppose you know where the Bandit Queen's room is- we seem to have gotten a bit lost."

[Marian Hawke]

"This one," the slave whispers quietly, voice cracking from disuse. "This room. I'm her. Please, kill me, before she wakes up."

[Tethras Clan]

Okay... that's... strange. "You mean to say that you are the Bandit Queen?" He studies the young woman before him, disbelief clear in voice and expression. 

[Marian Hawke]

The girl nods, choking back a whimper. She huddles her knees close to her chest, bowing her head.

[Isabela]

"Could she be possessed?" asks Isabela quietly. "Some kind of were-creature? She's wearing a fancy necklace for sleepwear."

[Tethras Clan]

"I was thinking much the same," Zevran concurs quietly in auran, a language both rare and well suited for whispered conversations. "Or possibly some form of slave collar, mental compulsions and the like." Taking a few steps closer to the young woman, Zevran offers a bright smile. "Tell us what's wrong," he says gently, slipping back to common. 

[Marian Hawke]

"Please, I don't know how long-- I don't know when she'll be back. I'm, you'll have a harder time when I'm gone. Please, I can't, please let me die, please," she whimpers, shuddering. "Please don't let me go back in the gem."

[Tethras Clan]

"And bingo," Zevran murmurs. "Before we so far as all that, let's see if the necklace can simply be removed or broke, no?"

[Marian Hawke]

She whimpers as he makes quick work of the lock holding the necklace on. The gemstone is clearly worth a fortune, and judging by the tan lines around her neck, she hasn't taken it off in months. Nothing dramatic happens when he removes it, but as he carries it back to Isabela, he feels something very old and powerful reaching for him. 

All at once, it leaps: for a moment, he can't see anything, can't feel anything. All he has is his bare essence with which to fight off a predator. He fights like a captive tiger, forcing the spirit away from him, back into its prison. This, then, must be the Bandit Queen.

[Tethras Clan]

Without hesitation, Zevran draws a dagger and slams it into the gem, over and over again. Magical objects are hard to damage but he's... determined. "I am not a slave, not to anyone or anything," he snarls.

[Isabela]

"Maybe a little less fervor," says Isabela after giving him a moment to work out his frustrations. By the time he glances up, she's on the ground with the slave, cradling the girl against her as she buries her face in Isabela's bosom, hiding from his fury.

[Tethras Clan]

Never enough fervor, not about that. Zevran takes a deep breath, then looks at the gem, now with a thin but deep crack through the entire thing. "I... I think I broke it. It doesn't feel... heavy anym-" A heartbeat later, a roiling black shadow flows out of the gem and forms into a vaguely humanoid shape. 

"Of fucking course it-"

[Marian Hawke]

Later, when the fighting's done, they take the frightened captive back with them to their camp. This is the first sign of lasting trouble: they have to coax her past the threshold, gently, and even then she spooks at every sound, twitching and trembling, breathing too fast, trying to take in the whole world at once. She feels safer inside the tent; while Isabela's on watch, she dozes off, though she soon wakes, screaming and clawing at her own face in the throes of a nightmare.