The Price 6/?
Summary: A visitor brings news of the goings on in Misthaven.
an: Recommended listening this chapter: Bishop Briggs - “Wild Horses”, Clairity - “Don’t Panic”, Woodkid - “Iron”
Her footsteps echo down the corridor as she leads him out of his rooms, winding their way through parts of the castle he’s explored before, past a grand ballroom and the library and the kitchens, until the scenery becomes less familiar, the uneven winding staircases leading him towards a destination he’s not quite sure of. It’s the middle of the bloody night, their only light the bobbing orbs along the hallways, glowing into life as they move along, snuffing out behind them the further they go.
She’s still in the clothes she’d worn to dinner, the jacket tight across her shoulders, her boots clattering against the stone floors, and he wonders, not for the first time, if the woman ever sleeps.
He’s surprised not to receive an immediate response to his silent query - whatever has happened, it has left her distracted enough not to pry into his thoughts, or at least too tired to answer his benign questions. There is a sense of relief in knowing that she isn’t constantly in his mind, and yet, he almost feels disappointed to get no response from her.
She is silent, and it gives him far too much room to mull over things, like the pinch of her face while she’d watched him tug his boots on, like the thrumming magic, not his own, filling the rooms and corridors like wildfire, consuming the air as they walked. Like the dream.
Already pieces of it were falling away, but he remembered just fine the call of the ocean behind him, and the desperate pull to find his brother. The taste of gunpowder is strong against his tongue, still, and the tang of blood sticks in his nostrils, but worst is the terror of not knowing whether the attacker had gotten to Liam.