Not to be outdone, Princess hops back onto the bench, this time sitting primly next to Tamminy. She wants some pets, too, please! And look, she is not filthy at all, only a little dusty from playing with Lil’ Buddy. Also there is some sticky bun residue in the fur around her mouth, but ignore that. She is beautiful and perfect, and she knows this because Caspar tells her so all the time.
The playfulness of the two pigs brings a small, watery smile to Adia’s face. Pokémon are good for the soul, and for quieting the nerves of anxious young women. She takes another deep breath, then makes eye contact with Caspar and nods. She’d ready to listen.
“Reynard made Anna say some terrible things to Harrowheart,” Caspar begins, picking up where they left off. “Terrible enough to make him lose his temper. He hit her — as hard as my brother hit you — and then roughed her up.”
His comparison seems to make some impact, because Adia’s eyes widen, her lips pursing together in worry.
“That’s when Reynard made his appearance. He wanted Harrowheart to give up his necromancy.” He pauses, licking his lips, not looking forward to recounting the next part. “Harrowheart wouldn’t budge. He seemed willing to let Anna die when Reynard used her as a shield, and it wasn’t until Reynard threatened his whole family that Harrowheart finally relented. They struck a bargain of some kind, and then Reynard released his control of Anna and frakked off to wherever he came from.”
He can’t hide the contempt in his voice for the winter spirit. As for Harrowheart, he waits for Adia to make some small acknowledgement for him to continue. It’s important that she understands how serious this is, that necromancy is so vital to Harrowheart’s existence that either he won’t or can’t stop creating undead minions.
“Anyway, Anna got home first and told everyone what happened. When Harrowheart returned home, Lawrence had to shoot him because he wouldn’t leave, so Harrowheart ripped off his arm. Then Matthew—“
“The brother who’s learning to channel the Light?” Adia interrupts. A sinking feeling in her chest tells her exactly where this is going.
“Yeah.” Caspar sighs and gently rubs the back of Adia’s hands with his thumbs. “He tried to protect Lawrence, so Harrowheart started choking him with magic, and the Light exploded. It sent Harrowheart running off.”
In the silence that follows, Caspar keeps rubbing her hands. It keeps her grounded while she tries to absorb all the details of what happened. An ache settles deep within her, similar to the pain caused by Reynard’s actions, but different, too. What Harrowheart did was terrible, but… as awful as it is contemplate… not totally unexpected.
She shuts her eyes and sighs heavily. Gods. How could she have been so blind to what was in front of her this entire time? He’s a death knight. It’s right here in the title. She should have tried harder to understand his true nature, to try to talk some sense into him when she saw his minion. Maybe all of this could have been avoided, maybe a better compromise could have been reached…
“Adia,” Caspar says softly. He tugs on her hands until she opens her eyes and looks at him. “This has nothing to do with you.”
It sounds harsh, but between the gentle way he says it and the tender, worried expression he gives her, she takes it in good faith. Her gaze swings over to Lawrence apologetically. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help? I could try talking to —“
“Nope,” Caspar interrupts, less gently this time. “If anyone’s talking to him, it’s me.”
Adia rolls her eyes. “I was going to say Anna. She… she really needs someone to talk to.” Someone who doesn’t brush off her erratic behavior, and someone who isn’t Doctor Hill, even if he was helping her.
no subject
The playfulness of the two pigs brings a small, watery smile to Adia’s face. Pokémon are good for the soul, and for quieting the nerves of anxious young women. She takes another deep breath, then makes eye contact with Caspar and nods. She’d ready to listen.
“Reynard made Anna say some terrible things to Harrowheart,” Caspar begins, picking up where they left off. “Terrible enough to make him lose his temper. He hit her — as hard as my brother hit you — and then roughed her up.”
His comparison seems to make some impact, because Adia’s eyes widen, her lips pursing together in worry.
“That’s when Reynard made his appearance. He wanted Harrowheart to give up his necromancy.” He pauses, licking his lips, not looking forward to recounting the next part. “Harrowheart wouldn’t budge. He seemed willing to let Anna die when Reynard used her as a shield, and it wasn’t until Reynard threatened his whole family that Harrowheart finally relented. They struck a bargain of some kind, and then Reynard released his control of Anna and frakked off to wherever he came from.”
He can’t hide the contempt in his voice for the winter spirit. As for Harrowheart, he waits for Adia to make some small acknowledgement for him to continue. It’s important that she understands how serious this is, that necromancy is so vital to Harrowheart’s existence that either he won’t or can’t stop creating undead minions.
“Anyway, Anna got home first and told everyone what happened. When Harrowheart returned home, Lawrence had to shoot him because he wouldn’t leave, so Harrowheart ripped off his arm. Then Matthew—“
“The brother who’s learning to channel the Light?” Adia interrupts. A sinking feeling in her chest tells her exactly where this is going.
“Yeah.” Caspar sighs and gently rubs the back of Adia’s hands with his thumbs. “He tried to protect Lawrence, so Harrowheart started choking him with magic, and the Light exploded. It sent Harrowheart running off.”
In the silence that follows, Caspar keeps rubbing her hands. It keeps her grounded while she tries to absorb all the details of what happened. An ache settles deep within her, similar to the pain caused by Reynard’s actions, but different, too. What Harrowheart did was terrible, but… as awful as it is contemplate… not totally unexpected.
She shuts her eyes and sighs heavily. Gods. How could she have been so blind to what was in front of her this entire time? He’s a death knight. It’s right here in the title. She should have tried harder to understand his true nature, to try to talk some sense into him when she saw his minion. Maybe all of this could have been avoided, maybe a better compromise could have been reached…
“Adia,” Caspar says softly. He tugs on her hands until she opens her eyes and looks at him. “This has nothing to do with you.”
It sounds harsh, but between the gentle way he says it and the tender, worried expression he gives her, she takes it in good faith. Her gaze swings over to Lawrence apologetically. “I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help? I could try talking to —“
“Nope,” Caspar interrupts, less gently this time. “If anyone’s talking to him, it’s me.”
Adia rolls her eyes. “I was going to say Anna. She… she really needs someone to talk to.” Someone who doesn’t brush off her erratic behavior, and someone who isn’t Doctor Hill, even if he was helping her.
She needs a friend.