[Medieval AU] Cruel Mercy

[Avery]

SPOILER: Click to show

This RP is, as the title implies, an AU-- where Aldrich was killed at the Bloody Coronation, and the Shadows arrested rather than successful. Except, of course, for the dear Shadow who missed the fun because she was imprisoned in a certain House's cellar...

They told her it was her second chance. They told her she was lucky. But as the carriage rumbled along the winding roads of southern Bern, the sun snaking through the wooden slats, Briar Kidde hardly felt lucky.

Then again, she supposed that if luck was a matter of comparison, and you lined her fate against that of the rest of her friends, she was a shining vault of fortune. It was the rest of the Shadows who were facing the potential swing of the executioner’s sword, not her. Ambrose told her that might not happen, that it might be a sentence less harsh than death, but all Briar heard from that was the might. Might not meant than it might be. That everyone else but her would be dead—at least, the ones who weren’t dead already, who hadn’t been felled at the Bloody Coronation while she’d been chained in the cellar of the Stallion Manor. Another bit of so-called luck, she thought ruefully, that she hadn’t been around when everything went to hell.

As the carriage hit a pothole, Briar clenched her fists and shifted on the uncomfortable bench seat. For what felt like the umpteenth time in the past whirlwind week, she reflected on the moment when Ambrose Stallion had come down to her makeshift cell, his face etched with worry, and told her about the events at the Raven’s Keep. The rebel uprising edged out by a bloody Courdonian attack. The surviving Shadows arrested afterward on charges of treason. It sounded like a bad dream, like a tall tale, but from the strain of Ambrose’s voice, Briar had known it wasn’t a lie at all.

“What’s going to happen to me, then?” she’d asked, already knowing the answer.

And yet—the answer he’d given her… hadn’t been the one she was expecting. From the way he described it to her, it sounded like he’d spent a great deal of time arguing about her fate with his brother, Alain. That Alain had wanted to dump her over to the Crown along with the rest of the rebels, instead of this… this… Briar hesitated to call it a solution, because to her it hardly seemed to solve anything. It was better than being arrested, sure. But being taken to Destrier Castle as a servant to House Stallion? Having to keep her identity hidden as the Court hunted down the rebels who’d gotten away from the Keep? Her fate resting in the hands of the man who’d chained her in the dark for nearly a week?

Even a week later, the thought of it made her want to retch. Ambrose… she trusted Ambrose, at least as much as she could trust a noble of the House who’d imprisoned her. He was kind and had clearly advocated for her. But that didn’t make the situation as a whole any more palatable.

Briar swallowed the lump in her throat and turned toward Ambrose, who sat on the other side of the carriage compartment. “How much longer until we’re in Destrier, m’lord?’ she asked him, her voice catching. What she didn’t say was the terrified thought that had, for the past week, been circling through her head: And once I get there, will I ever be able to leave again?

[Celestial]

He had tried. He really tried to do what he said he would do back when he had met the Shadows in the forest forever ago. But Ambrose was just one mad old noble. What chance did he have against the law of the land? They were rebels, traitors, and they had to face the correct punishment for it as dictated by the Crown. This was how it was. His personal distaste for it was irrelevant and he was not stupid or mad enough to not realise it. But that hardly meant that it did not haunt him, far from it. The people he had met with in that clearing...some of them he did not even know by name but they were people, young people too, and they did not deserve to die for just wanting to make things better for themselves, whatever methods they had employed. And he knew that the fallout was going to extend out beyond the Shadows. Xavier especially worried him.

But there had been no time to check. Medieville, in the aftermath of the coronation and with the hunting and judgement of the rebels underway, was going to be a mess. The Stallion entourage needed to be getting back to their own lands. That had been Alain's decision and Ambrose agreed.

They had not, however, agreed on Briar Kidde's fate. Even now, over a week after it had happened, that argument still played over and over in his mind. The one they had in the basement back when Briar was first captured paled in comparison. There was some lingering guilt in Ambrose's heart over fighting his own brother so furiously over a girl he barely knew. It was not like he could not understand where Alain was coming from. As Grand Duke, he was loyal to the Crown and when they has issued the edict to hunt down and capture every member of the rebellion he could find, of course he would have to hand Briar over. She was a rebel, a willing rebel, and in his eyes, she deserved the punishment that was coming to her. Ambrose did not see it that way. Briar was a young girl, an individual with a long life ahead of her who had already suffered enough. She had tried to make her own life better and to pay for it with a gruesome death or exile or any kind of punishment...nobody deserved that. He had seen plenty of girls and boys around her age die horribly. Now that he could prevent that death and keep some of his word to the Shadows, he would gladly take it.

At first, neither brother backed down from their beliefs. Tensions had escalated and voices were raised, mostly Ambrose's. Alain's had simply grown icier and icier. Eventually, however, they found a compromise; Briar was going to be taken as a servant to Destrier Castle, with several conditions. Firstly, she was Ambrose's responsibility. If he wanted to save her so badly, he was going to have to make sure she behaved. If she did not, she would be punished. If she acted out in such a way as to sabotage House Stallion and make the Crown quetion their loyalty for sheltering a rebel, she would be handed over without any hope of salvation. This was Briar's only chance. If she wasted it, not even Ambrose could help her. And he had gladly accepted that. The fact that he had managed to bend Alain into such a compromise was in itself a miracle.

He just prayed that Briar would listen to him when it came down to it. He had explained the terms to her but whether she would accept them or try to work against them was yet to be seen. The near future seemed very uncertain. Briar was stubborn and it was unlikely that all the resentment that she harboured over them capturing her was going to disappear just because they had thrown her a rope she had no choice but to grab.

So they had left Medieville with Briar in tow. Alain had avoided her when he could but he had always been close by, watching her. He never said he did not trust her but the coldness of his eyes whenever he looked at her made it clear. He wanted Briar to know. Ambrose, however, had done his best to be kind to her. If she was going to be kept safe in Destrier, he needed her to trust him.

They had not talked much on the way there, however. What did they have to talk about? He had spent most of his time looking away from her, out of the carriage window. It was also convenient when the visions had come upon him. So far, Briar had not noticed but he could not keep it from her forever...that was going to be tough to explain. Ambrose just hoped he could do that once she was a little more comfortable with him.

He had been looking away when he heard Briar asking him a question. Ambrose turned to her, doing his best to smile at her.

"You don't have to call me that, just my name is fine, Briar. I would prefer that," Ambrose said quietly. "It's not long now. We have just passed through Percheron, so two or three days at most left on the road," he gave her a sympathetic look, wondering what else he could say. Briar looked miserable, which was understandable. Whether for her own protection or not, she was being spirited away to an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar people who, over a week prior, had been her captors.

"You've never been this far, have you?" he asked, trying to start up a conversation somehow. "Never been to Bern?"

[Avery]

"You don't have to call me that, just my name is fine, Briar. I would prefer that," Ambrose said quietly. "It's not long now. We have just passed through Percheron, so two or three days at most left on the road. You've never been this far, have you? Never been to Bern?"

She shook her head. "No, m'lord-- I mean, um, Ambrose." It felt weird addressing a noble without using his title. That was usually the sort of thing that got you in hot water-- chewed out, at the very least, or even sent to the stocks. Then again, Ambrose was unlike any other noble she'd ever met.

"I've never been north of Kine," she said. "And even then, not since my mum and dad died."

Woo, Mum and Dad... what would they think of her now? They'd be so angry with her for getting tangled with the rebellion. For letting her family down. Briar was supposed to care for the little girls. She was supposed to be their rock. And instead she was being dragged to Destrier and would probably never see them again. What kind of sister was she? What kind of person was she?

"What are you going to tell the others at your castle about me?" she asked. "I mean... they'll have heard of the Bloody Coronation. What... what will they make of me, a stranger from the south?"

[Celestial]

Ambrose smiled a little and gave Briar a small nod when she used his name. That, he hoped, was a good sign. Most people did not take him up on his invitation to call him by his first name, at least not immediately. There was always a sense of discomfort at being so casual with a noble, even one like him. Perhaps the fact that Briar was willing to listen to him in this and trust that she would not get in trouble meant that she would trust him in other respects? Or perhaps he was reading far too much into that simple thing. He had just told her to do that after all. Regardless, Ambrose clung to the hope that it was the former. He desperately needed her to trust him if she was going to stay alive in the near future.

He continued listening to her, his eyes acquiring a sympathetic look when he heard about the deaths of her parents. He had known that and it was a long time ago, judging by how calmly she said it, but nevertheless, he did feel bad. That was a hard loss for one so young. "I see. I am sorry about your parents," he bowed his head for just a brief moment. "But I hope you will like Bern. I know what it must represent for you but it's still a beautiful place. Winter will be tough but I'll see to it that you're looked after, I promise."

At her next question, Ambrose sighed deeply. That had been something he and Alain had discussed. The problem had been trying to come up with a plausible excuse...and who to tell the truth.

"Most will be told the same thing we told the servants who are travelling with us: that you are an orphan with nowhere else to go who we are taking in as an act of charity. Since the capital is no longer safe in the aftermath of the Coronation and the hunting down of the rebels, we took you with us back to Bern, along with the rest of the household. It's...not exactly lies but not the full truth either. Hopefully it will be enough to convince those who are too nosy," he told her in the most level tone he could manage. "But there will be some who will be told the truth. Isabelle, Alain's daughter and heir will be informed because he feels that as his heir, she needs to know this. Perhaps he will also tell Margot, that's his wife. Beyond that, whoever is told will be solely up to Alain's discretion. I trust him to know best when it comes to that," he looked up at Briar, his eyes pleading. "I know what he did to you, I don't agree with it and I can guess how you feel about him, but it's in his best interest that you remain hidden now that you're under House Stallion's protection. He won't say anything to anyone if he knows it will be dangerous. So please, Briar, don't worry about that, I beg you."

SPOILER: Click to show

And you thought we wouldn't have summaries. =P

The conversation continues as Ambrose continues to try to hope to gain Briar's trust. He tells her their cover story.

[Avery]

As Ambrose told Briar how they were going to explain her away to others at the castle, Briar stared blankly down at her lap. Even when Ambrose stared her straight on as he swore that Alain's best interest and her best interest now went hand-in-hand, Briar didn't look at him. Or reply. She knew that nothing she had to say on the matter would be appropriate-- and she hardly wanted to antagonize Ambrose, the only one among the Stallions who'd so far been kind to her. Worry about it. Of course she would worry about it. When someone abducts you and chains you in a dark, cold cellar, that's not the sort of thing you can just forget. Even if afterward it turns out to have likely saved your life. Truly, if Briar had to be honest with herself about it all, that's what made it even worse: that Alain's dehumanizing, terrifying imprisonment of her had likely served to save her.

That if not for him, she probably would have died that day at the Bloody Coronation as did so many others... or at least she'd be in a jail cell, her neck awaiting a possible appointment with the executioner's sword.

**

That night, they stopped at an inn somewhere near nowhere-- a nothing little village like Wickerham, in Kine, where Briar and her brother Kelcey had spent a few years as children with a childless aunt to help take the burden off Mum and Dad. That's where Briar had met Elin Ryer, who'd eventually come to Medieville to live with her own aunt, Clare. Thinking of Elin now made Briar's throat hitch and her stomach curdle. She should have been there for Elin at the Bloody Coronation. She should have been there for all the Shadows.

At the inn, Ambrose bought a meal for her, but Briar wasn't very hungry. She gave the food to another of the servants, a timid girl who smiled reluctantly at her, as if she didn't quite trust the strange, quiet southern girl who rode in the carriage with Ambrose Stallion and had wrists still bitten-- healing, but bitten-- by chain blisters. The past nights Briar had stayed in a room with a few other servants, and tonight was no different. At first the others had tried to engage her, making small talk, but they'd given up on that pursuit several nights ago. There's only so long you can talk at a person who wants nothing more than to stew in the silent bath of their own desperate thoughts.

Destrier. Briar couldn't believe they were only a few days out from Destrier. Where she was to be a servant, under an assumed name, her history white-washed and hidden away. She didn't want to go to Destrier. She didn't want to live under the thumb of House Stallion. Curled up in the fresh hay of the drafty inn room, the other servants snoring nearby, tears pricked at Briar's eyes, but she blinked them away. She couldn't cry like a silly child, sulking about her fate but doing to fix it. Woo, was this what she'd become? A sniveling girl who brooded and lamented but sat by passively accepting it nevertheless?

This... this wasn't her. Briar realized this suddenly, a kick in the gut. Had she ever been the sort to just whine and sob and let the currents of life drag her along while doing nothing to fight them? No. When Mum and Dad died, it was Briar who stepped up to the plate to serve as the main day-to-day caretaker for the little girls. Even though she wasn't much more than a little girl herself, she'd known that if she didn't do it, no one else would. And when the Shadows started, Briar was one of the first members, knowing that if she wanted to see change, she had to help it happen. So why start being passive now? Why go along with the Stallions to Bern just because they'd told her she had to? Life wasn't a dichotomy-- either go to Bern, or be arrested. She... she could carve out other options. For herself and by herself. Just like she'd always done.

That Alain Stallion's imprisonment of her had likely saved her life didn't mean her life was now his to mould and control.

Quietly, Briar stood from the hay mound and crept by the other servants, and then slipped out into the hall. No more sitting back, she decided. The horses were stabled behind the inn. At this hour, they wouldn't be guarded-- and the carriages were packed with supplies. It a warm night. Hazy. Good traveling weather.

By the time the Stallions woke up tomorrow morning, Briar Kidde decided she would be long, long gone.

[Celestial]

Ambrose did not know what was worse, that he was awake or the fact that this was not surprising to him in the slightest. He had not been able to sleep much during the whole trip, in fact. No matter how tired he was, there was too much going on in his thoughts to properly doze off. Worries about the aftermath of the Coronation, about his broken promise to the now-hunted Shadows, what was going to happen with Xavier, Briar, what House Stallion's future was, they all clamoured for his attention with questions he had no answers to. A part of him knew it was foolish to lose sleep over things that were out ofhis control but that did not help. It was bad enough seeing people suffer in visions, where they were anonymous faces to him. These were people he cared about and Ambrose had no knowledge of what was going on with them.

He needed to clear his mind, or at least take his mind off all these matters so that he would have some chance of falling asleep before they needed to move out. Getting out of bed, Ambrose lit a candle and threw on his robe and cloak. The room was cramped, leaving no space for a desk, but downstairs had tables and it was unlikely there would be anybody there for him to disturb or be disturbed by this time of night. Inventing usually helped clear his mind a little, or at least diverted his focus towards a problem he could actually fix.

However, the blueprints and ink were left behind in the carriage. They were not bulky but there had been no need to unpack them when they had arrived at the inn so Ambrose had left them behind. But it was no big deal for him to go get them. Quietly, trying to not wake the others, Ambrose opened the door to his room and stepped out into the hallway, candle in hand.

There was a sound ahead of him and Ambrose stopped in his tracks, listening. Footsteps. He was not the only one awake, it seemed. But who could be up this time of night?

The answer came as soon as he turned the corner and saw the figure of a girl. When he lifted up the candle to get a better look at her, Ambrose came face to face with somebody who he had gotten to recognise all too well this past week: Briar. But what- a part of him hoped that she was just up for a perfectly innocent reason. That she was getting a drink or going to use the bathroom. But her startled eyes made Ambrose question that. Briar was stubborn and strong; she was a rebel and she had stood up to Alain, that was proof enough. He desperately hoped that he was wrong but it made too much sense. Nevertheless, he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt.

"Briar? What are you doing? What are you up? Is everything alright?" Ambrose asked in a series of whispers and stretched out his hand, palm upwards so she would not think he was trying to grab her. "Don't be afraid, please, you're not in trouble. I just-" he swallowed. He did not want her to think she did not trust him but with how this looked...the question was far too prominent in his mind to ignore. "You're not running away, please tell me you're not..."

SPOILER: Click to show

Ambrose cannot sleep and as he goes to retrieve blueprints to help him take his mind off things, he runs into Briar. Oops. Even though he knows this is what it looks like, Ambrose hopes it isn't but asks Briar upfront if it is.

[Avery]

She was nearly there-- nearly to the doors that led out to the stables, when footsteps made her blood chill and heart skip a beat. Briar froze in place, stomach flipping, desperately seeking someplace to conceal herself... but there was nowhere. And within moments, Briar found herself staring into the face of no other than Ambrose Stallion. No. She curled her hands into shaking fists, her eyes as wide as saucers.

""Briar? What are you doing? What are you up? Is everything alright?"

"I... I..." She couldn't find her voice.

"Don't be afraid, please, you're not in trouble. I just-"

Tears pricked at her eyes, but Briar blinked them away. She couldn't cry now like a pathetic little girl, no matter how much she wanted to. Woo, why couldn't anything go right for her? What were the chances that Ambrose Stallion would be up and about in the dead of night? Of all the people at the inn she could have run into...

"You're not running away, please tell me you're not..."

Briar swallowed hard, willing her voice back to her. "Please," she said to him. "It's... not what it looks like... or... maybe it is but... you have to understand. I-if you really do care for me, then please understand, m'lord." M'lord, not Ambrose. Right now she wouldn't dare think of calling him Ambrose. "I... I have sisters back in Medieville who rely on me. And I can't just... just... do this. I can't just take an assumed name and hide away and... pretend the life I just left behind doesn't exist." She leaned against the wall, her mind still spinning. "What will everyone think, m'lord? I mean... I know I've made my own bed with the Shadows and... really I'm lucky that I was imprisoned or else I'd be dead or facing execution but..." Briar shook her head. "My little sisters. They've been through so much. Mum and Dad dying and... just everything. I've always been the one they can rely on. What will they think, that I'm just gone without a trace? And who will care for them? How will they get money to eat? My brothers... they're not up to the task, and... maybe I deserve this, but my sisters don't..."

She laughed darkly. The tears pushed again, and this time Briar didn't bother to blink them back.

"I must sound silly to you, m'lord. So many excuses. So ungrateful for how you've stuck your neck out for me..." She wiped at her eyes. "Are you going to tell him what I've done, m'lord? Your brother?" She glanced down at her wrists, the healing chain blisters. "Shall I spend the rest of the journey north chained to the carriage like a Courdonian slave?"

[Celestial]

So she had been running away. It was hardly unexpected but Ambrose still found that it hurt a little more than he expected. He was not stupid and he was patient but at the same time, he wanted to gain Briar's trust. Because if he did not, well...things like this happened. Nevertheless, he listened to her carefully, neither nodding nor shaking his head at her excuses. However, he could not help the sympathy that was apparent all over his face. Perhaps Briar was lying about her sisters, just using them as an excuse, but there was very little lie in her voice. And Ambrose knew all about her sisters, how they had nobody except her. It was her concern for them that Alain had exploited to catch her, after all.

Her sisters. The thought had occurred to Ambrose before but hearing Briar's distress and genuine concern for them brought up the brief memories of the two girls before they had been taken away on Destiney's orders. He lowered his head, realising now how unclear their fate was. Who knew what was going to happen to them now that Destiney was dead? If they had to be out on the streets...Ambrose winced. Even without all the things he had seen, the state of the two girls when they had arrived at Stallion Manor should have been enough of a taster to let him know what awaited them.

"I know about your sisters, Briar, and I'm sorry. I met them, they were good girls and I know you care for them very deeply. For the immediate future, they will be safe wherever the late Queen had them taken along with her own sisters. After that...I don't know. I wish I could have helped them too but that would have been even more messy, even if we knew where they were. Believe me, I don't want them to suffer," he looked back up at Briar after a brief moment. His eyes were silently pleading with her. "But you running away won't help them. If you get back to the capital, it's only going to lead to your arrest and execution. You will have thrown away your life for nothing. You're the only one right now in any position to be saved, don't waste that, please. I know what I'm asking is difficult but there is no alternative."

Ambrose sighed deeply and moved his hand away from her, instead lowering it to his side. "I can only imagine how frustrating this must be for you and I don't expect you to be grateful for this. But...I just don't want to see you, or anybody suffer. If one person can be spared, I believe they should be," he gave her a small smile. "If you're worried, no, I'm not going to tell Alain anything. He doesn't need to know about this. But in the future, you have to trust me. And trust me when I say that you running away now would be the worst thing for you to do. Even if you don't go back to Medieville, where can you go? You said you've never been further north than Kine, right? So Bern to you is an alien land. It's not too bad in summer but when winter comes..." he shook his head slowly. "Don't do this. Please."

SPOILER: Click to show

Ambrose realises the sad fate of Daria and Ciara but acknowledges there is nothing that can be done for them. He tries to talk Briar out of running away.

[Avery]

Briar wasn't sure what she was expecting... maybe for Ambrose to harshly snap back at her and tell her that indeed he was going to inform Alain about what he'd caught her doing. Not that he'd ever snapped at her before, but well-- deep down, he was a noble, she was a peasant, he'd tried to help her as best as he could, and she'd nevertheless gone and tried to stab him in the back.

Instead, though, Ambrose apologized, telling her how sorry he was about Daria and Ciara. And then he calmly, rationally told her why she shouldn't leave... and begged her to stay.

Briar's throat seized. She bit her lip. Part of her hated that he hadn't yelled at her, because that would have made it so much easier to push him back and run the hell away, as she'd initially intended. And she hated even more that he was right, oh Woo he was right. She couldn't go back to Medieville. She had no idea how to survive a winter in Bern. And if she tried to go anywhere else-- Rindfell, Albion, even Lyell-- well... she was a fifteen-year-old penniless orphan girl wanted by the crown for treason. Life wouldn't exactly be a treasure chest of opportunities. She wouldn't be able to use her name. She'd have to flee if anyone from the Court came sniffing around.

She swallowed the frog in her throat. "I'm sorry, m'lord," she said, her voice quaking. "I... I've made a mistake... I just..." She shook her head. "I won't do it again. I promise I won't do it a-again. I just... I'll... see you in the morning... I'll just... go back to m-my room and... see you in the morning..."

Without waiting for Ambrose's reply, she shouldered around him and practically sprinted down the hall, back toward the room she'd been sharing with the other servants. Tears ran down her cheeks, and her entire body shook. Shutting the door behind her, she wedged herself in the corner furthest away from the other servants and curled up into a tight, quivering ball. She pretended that her sobs didn't wake them. She pretended that they weren't staring at her through the dark. But that things were going to be okay in the end... this, Briar Kidde could not bring herself to pretend.

[Celestial]

No matter how hard she tried to hide it, Ambrose could not miss the distress on Briar's face. His own eyes were alight with sympathy and he reached out to her, opening his mouth to tell her that it was okay, that she did not have to apologise or act so servile to him, to speak with her further and try to give her some comfort. But he did not have time before Briar pushed past him and ran into the room where she had been staying with the other servants. He watched her disappear, his head bowing sadly. He wanted to help her so much, to make the transition to Bern and her status in hiding just a little easier. But he could not. As long as Briar did not let him, did not trust him, whatever help he tried to offer her meant nothing.

There was a creak of a door and Ambrose suddenly looked up, finding himself looking into the icy blue eyes of his brother. He took a step backward, staring at him in shock. If Alain had heard them, if he knew what Briar had planned, would he still be as merciful? She had not endangered them so he might be but who knew if Alain would take her attempt at running away as a sign to expect further trouble and cut his losses? Right now, both options presented themselves as equally feasible.

"...How long have you been listening?" Ambrose finally gasped. First it was best to know what exactly he knew.

"I heard your entire conversation," Alain replied in his usual, calm tone. It figured. There was not much that could be hidden from him.

"So you know exactly what Briar was going to do?" Ambrose felt his throat clenching. "Please, Alain, I know you said that she would not get any second chances if she acted out but-"

"Calm, Ambrose. Since nothing happened, I'm willing to let this slide, since I have already committed to your scheme," his brother's eyes met his, staring right through him. "But I think you should have let her go."

"What!?" Ambrose's mouth flew open. "But she-"

"Think about it. If she had run away, she would have been free but she would not have been our responsibility, therefore we could pretend in front of the Crown that we had nothing to do with her escape and therefore, there would be no question of our loyalty," Alain stated calmly. "It was a fairly decent third option, all things considered."

"Decent?" Ambrose shook his head. "No. Where could she have gone? If she wanted to go back to Medieville, she would have squandered her chance. If she did not, how do you expect her to survive as a fugitive when winter came? She would not have made it, Alain, and you know it. I refuse to believe you're so heartless that you don't care."

Alain flinched a tiny bit at that statement before he bowed his head. "I'm afraid I have less heart that you, Ambrose, but that's not hard. But that is irrelevant. What matters is the conditions I made in Medieville still stand: she is your responsibility and you have to keep her out of trouble. Who knows, maybe you won't be so lucky as to catch her running away, or worse, next time."

"I will, Alain," Ambrose nodded. "I want to help her, even all I can do is help her. It's better than doing nothing. I'm sick of being unable to do nothing."

"I know and I trust you. The problem is if she will before your time runs out," Alain turned on his heel, heading back inside his room. "Good night, brother. You best get some sleep too. We have the last leg of the journey to make tomorrow, before we reach Destrier."

Ambrose nodded and headed back to his own room, closing the door behind him and blowing out the candle. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite himself, he worried about Briar. The worst that could happen to him is that he lost Alain's faith, that his House would fall out of favour. The worst that could happen to her is her death at the hands of an executioner. There was no comparison which was worse. And Ambrose felt like it was up to him to prevent that.

[Avery]

Briar wasn't sure when she fell asleep, but it wasn't very long before dawn, and one of the other servants shook her back awake just an hour or so later. It was a warm morning, particularly for Bern standards, but Briar felt chilled to the core. She didn't take anything for breakfast, and she kept her eyes cast firmly floor-bound. Even still, she could feel the gazes of the other servants eating into her. As they set out toward the carriages, one fell in step beside her-- a small, raven-haired girl who couldn't have been much older than Kelcey or Lawrence. Woo, Kelcey and Lawrence. Briar resolutely pushed away thoughts of her brothers. Thinking of her family now would only make the tears come back, and Briar refused to cry again.

"Bryanna, isn't it?" the other servant said.

Her assumed name, and how wrong it felt. "Yes," Briar murmured.

"Are you-- well, I don't mean to pry but... are you okay? I just... heard you last night and... I'm worried." She added after a moment's pause, "All of us are. If needed to talk to someone..."

"Oh, I'm fine," Briar lied. "Just... homesick, I guess. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She practically lobbed herself into the carriage, slamming the door to it shut behind her.

Ambrose was already sitting inside, and when she saw him, she immediately flicked her gaze away. But just as soon, she brought it back toward him. Her heart lurched. Her breath caught in her throat. Something was wrong with him. His expression was milky, detached-- his face too pale-- his eyes staring forward at nothing, as empty as glass...

"M'lord?" she squeaked. "Are you... are you..." She leaned forward, panic rising in her. "M'lord? ... A-Ambrose? Are you... what's... what's happening?"

[Celestial]

He had just gotten into the carriage when the vision forced itself into his mind, pulling him out of all semblance of reality. Ambrose only had time to be thankful that nobody at least had seen him before it had overwhelmed all his senses, cutting him off from the world around him. Instead of the carriage, the space surround him was filled by the humming and screaming of various animals, all stifled by the humid climate of the surrounding forest. Clouds above threatened to rain down a flood onto this place later but for now, all was still. At least, it was for a moment. Several men literally cut through the undergrowth in front of him, their blades an inch away from his face. If he had been in control, Ambrose would have flinched, but he never controlled his movements in the visions. They carried him, not the other way around.

They looked tired and exhausted, especially those carrying their packs, but nevertheless they pressed forward through the forest. Their clothes indicated this was far into the future, at least several hundred years if not more by his estimate, though without further context, there was no way Ambrose could ever pin down the dates. However, something behind the men caught his eye. Others, hiding in the undergrowth, disguised with paints that turned their skin the same shade as the forest. There was the glimmer of an arrow and some strange hum as one of the men lifted up his hands, closing his eyes for a moment before he violently flicked out his entire arm towards the unsuspecting party of explorers.

Several of the men he had been watching suddenly collapsed, giving loud piercing screams before their convulsions became too strong. Others leapt around, alerted by the distress of their comrades but they were immediately pierced with arrows. The mage, at least Ambrose assumed was the mage, gave a loud victorious cry which sounded more like the screaming of an eagle. Several of the surviving explorers who could still stand tried to rush towards him but they were cut down with crude, blunt bladed. Ambrose could only watch with silent horror as the slaughter continued, the attackers dashing in and out of the forest like shadows.

The vision let go of him suddenly and rapidly and he collapsed on the carriage floor, wild-eyed and panting heavily. The murder of the party in the humid forest still played out in front of his eyes. "No, please...why are you killing them, why? Please, don't..." he murmured. Ambrose could feel his heart beating and slowly, he brought his hand up to his face, rubbing his eyes to restore some feeling and to get what he saw out of his mind.

When he was finally convinced he had returned, he looked up around him, right into a familiar face. Briar! Ambrose recoiled suddenly, the full consequence of reality hitting him. She had no doubt seen him in that state and heard his murmurings. He gripped his elbows and lifted up his head, though he refused to meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Briar but...it's something that happens to me. I can't control it and it's...I've been told it's pretty horrifying," he gave her a sad, almost forced smile. "You've probably heard some whispering from the servants, about me being mad. Did you ever wonder why?"

Ambrose seemed to become a little smaller where he sat. "I'm not mad, please, believe me. Let me explain."

SPOILER: Click to show

Have a vision, because Celes had far too much fun with it. 8D This shall be interesting to explain to Briar, eh, Ambrose? You're doing a valiant job though.

[Avery]

Just when Briar was about to chuck herself out the carriage and scream for help, Ambrose finally came to. While she continued to gape at him, he refused to meet her frantic eyes, instead saying softly, "I'm sorry you had to see that, Briar but...it's something that happens to me. I can't control it and it's...I've been told it's pretty horrifying." He smiled thinly. "You've probably heard some whispering from the servants, about me being mad. Did you ever wonder why?"

She shook her head, mutely.

"I'm not mad, please, believe me. Let me explain."

"I... I won't lie," she murmured. "I have heard... things. That you're not quite... all there, I guess. But I..." She bit her lip. "What was it, that you were doing? It was like you... were a world away. And your eyes were..." She shook her head, feeling deep down that she ought not be prying like this, and yet unable to help herself. She'd never seen anything like that before in her life; it was if Ambrose Stallion had become a milky shell, his body there but his awareness of the world at hand completely gone.

All she could think of was Mum, lost in her fever dreams just before the horrible coughing sickness took her. Refusing soup, refusing water, tormented and shaking. Briar begging for her to at least take a little broth-- to please stay bundled up under the blankets because it was winter and so achingly cold-- to please get better, please, please, please. But to no avail. No amount of pleading or prayer had brought Mum back from the edge.

"Does it... does it hurt?" Briar asked now, studying Ambrose's sad, desperate face. "Whatever it is-- does it hurt you, Ambrose? I..." She swallowed hard. "I really hope it doesn't hurt."

[Celestial]

Briar seemed to take it well, at least as well as she could have considering. Ambrose knew how horrible it was, seeing him in the state of the visions without any prior warning. He had honestly expected her to run, to go to somebody who did not stare emptily into space so the fact that she stayed, let alone was willing to talk to him was something to be grateful for. Though, he realised, who could she go to? For better or for worse, she was stuck with him. So it was his duty to assure her as best as he could. The Stallion could not bear the thought of Briar, all alone out here, being afraid of the only person who she seemed to have some kind of rapport with, and the one who had to make sure she was safe.

"I appreciate your concern but don't worry, it doesn't hurt, not usually. It's just tiring and very disorienting," Ambrose smiled weakly. "I suppose you can say I am a world away, quite literally."

He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. "Most people don't think I'm mad immediately after they see my visions, it's after I try to explain what exactly happens. But everything I tell you is true, I know it's true," Ambrose gripped his robe. "I see visions of the future, randomly, completely out of the blue. I have no control of when they hit me. Usually it happens once or twice a day, though I have days where they don't happen."

Normally, here he would have stopped and waited for the inevitable judgement to rain down on him, for the other person to declare that he was mad. But now, at least, Ambrose had an explanation to add beyond that, thanks to a certain Kaldora Verdana, and then Alain. Though the reason for why this happened to him had to wait until they came back to Bern. For now, he just had to give Briar the short explanation.

"It's...I have time magic, at least some form of it," he said quietly. "It's best described as being pulled out of the present and into the future. It's not madness, please believe me."

SPOILER: Click to show

Ambrose explains and hopes Briar believes him, instead of thinking he's mad like everyone else.

[Avery]

Briar sighed in relief when Ambrose told her it didn't hurt, and then tried not to betray her surprise when he explained to her what had happened to him-- his visions of the future, uncontrollable and frequent. Time magic. A House Stallion lord with magic?

"Does... does your brother know?" she asked, then instantly felt stupid. If this happened to Ambrose daily, then of course his brother would know. Hurriedly, she added, "I mean... sorry, I just... magic and House Stallion, they usually don't go hand in hand." She smiled darkly. "One of the only reasons I was glad it was your House that took me prisoner and not House Jade. Being imprisoned is bad enough without..." She shuddered at the unsaid thought. Of what had happened to Elin.

Elin. Woo, now was not the time to think of Elin-- likely imprisoned, if she wasn't already dead.

... Wait a minute. if Ambrose could see the future...

"C-could you tell me, m'lord?" she asked. "What happens to my friends? I mean... if you can see the future... w-would you know if they're executed or..." As the full gravity of Ambrose's powers flooded over Briar, she could barely keep her thoughts-- and words-- straight. "I mean... the future-- so, you know everything that happens? Y-you knew in advance about the Bloody Coronation and... that you'd take me and... that I'd try to escape or..." Her voice trailed off, as she started to realize that such a thing didn't make sense. Ambrose couldn't know everything that happened in the future, could he? Particularly if his visions were random... and only happened once or twice a day... that might indicate he didn't control what he saw, and it also likely meant he didn't see everything.

Not to mention, she'd basically just accused him of knowing about the carnage that would be the Bloody Coronation, yet doing nothing to prevent it. And that... that was not a light accusation.

"You don't know, do you?" she murmured. "I... I'm sorry for presuming that. I... I shouldn't have thought such a dark thing of you, not after the kindness you've shown me."