Never Ending Darkness (title pending) - Chapter Two

August Mikaelson

The girl was getting on my last nerve. When she was younger, I hoped that she would outgrow being annoying and impossible. Instead, she got worse. She seemed to have made it a sport of hers-- break the law and not leave enough evidence for us to do anything about it.

When the king authorized the Captain to arrest her brother, likely as retribution for her actions, the snot-nosed little brat suddenly went missing. They claimed he heard he heard we were coming for him, spooked, and made a run for it. The worthless father claimed he didn't know where the boy went, the girl always found a way to side-step the question. Sometimes she'd answer a question that wasn't asked, sometimes she'd pretend to be hospitable and divert the Lieutenant's attention with flattery or the offer of a meal.

I didn't really care that the boy didn't go to the castle. I didn't care the girl snuck out in the middle of the night to take the kid food. The only thing that I cared about was that I kept getting stuck babysitting her all night. I wished that the Lieutenant would either arrest her or leave her to do as she pleased. I didn't really care which -- I just didn't want to sit outside her house a single night longer.

I sighed, rubbing my forehead, searching for something to think about that would keep me entertained until the morning. Lyiia's soft, warm skin filled my mind's eye, the memory of what kept me entertained last night. I pulled my coat closed against a chilly breeze, glaring into the darkness. Stupid wench. More trouble than she was worth--

The door opened. My head snapped up at the soft scraping noise, just in time to see her dark silhoutte slip out from in front of the lit doorway. I stood, silently moving through the darkness behind her house, toward where she was carefully making her way through a patch of briars.

I cursed mentally as a twig under my foot snapped loudly in the silence of the night, and her dark frame fell completely still. I caught my breath, careful not to move either. The last thing I needed was a chase, on her property, in the middle of the bleeding night.

A moment later she finished her step over the briar-bush. I made my move. As quickly, and silently, as I could, I reached out and grabbed her arm. Before she could react, I gave her a yank. "Where do you think you're going?"

It wasn't until she was stumbling backward, falling into my chest hard, that I realized that I should've answered my own question. It would've been more interesting, and beneficial, to follow her and see where she was going, rather than listen to her lies. Maybe I even would've found the boy, and got a few days off as a reward. It was too late to do that now.

"I-- what-- who--" She struggled with the briar. I gave her another jerk, pulling her out of the briar patch, thorns still sticking in her legs. She whirled around the instant I set her down. "Mikaelson."

I backhanded her. "That's Sergeant to you."

She stumbled backward. I followed close behind, being careful not to lose her in the darkness. I heard her groan, and saw the faint outline of her hand moving to her face. I took another threatening step toward her. "Did you hear me, swine?"

"Yes... sir." She added resentfully, as I lifted my hand once more.

"What were you doing out here?" I demanded again.

"Checking on things."

"The woods?" I asked sarcastically.

"Trees need love too."

The sarcastic little... I backhanded her again, making her stumble backward into a stack of crates behind her house. She tripped a moment before the stack swayed and fell over... right on top of her. She groaned again, weakly trying to fight her way to her feet.

I yanked a crate off of her, grabbing her arm to pull her up, suddenly feeling very alive. I didn't want to be out here in the middle of nowhere... but since I didn't have a choice on that, I was happy to be beating on her to pass the time. She deserved every blow. Every slap, for every sarcastic remark she made. For every venomous word that she dripped in honey, to keep the Lieutenant from getting mad at her.

I slammed her against the wall of their shack, still holding her arm tightly, digging my fingernails into the soft flesh of her forearms. "Where were you going?"

"You're hurting me!"

"Good!" I bellowed.

The clouds shifted, and a beam of moonlight fell into the small clearing behind her house. We'd made a mess. I'd made a mess. I glanced at her face, sneering, ready to see the defiant set of her chin, the steely glint in her eye, to give me the energy to continue the beating. Instead I found glassy tears brimming in her eyes.

"Don't even play that game with me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." She frowned at me, desperately trying to make herself look angry. I hesitated. She sniffed, satisfying herself with a frown instead of a glare. "Can I go inside now?"

"Yeah. And you'd best stay in there, or else." I gave her a violent shove toward the door.

The door flew open as she struck it, sending her tumbling into the floor. Her invalid father was alarmed. I considered cursing at him, but still couldn't shake the memory of her shiny tears gleaming in the moonlight. I shook my head, feeling like a jerk, and walked back to my stump.

* * *

Arlonn Rosenfeld

I strained to tell what was happening. There was a fight. I heard the noise of a scuffle-- things falling and low voices arguing, before someone crashed through the door. I didn't hear anything now, though. I felt fear curling around my chest. No news wasn't always the best news. "Kyanna?"

"Yeah." She grunted.

"What happened?" My body relaxed ever so slightly at hearing her voice. She sounded frustrated, but not hurt.

She didn't answer for a long moment, the silence filled with nothing but the noise of wood scraping against wood as she roughly moved things around. Finally she took a deep breath and sighed. "There was a soldier outside."

I wet my lips, glancing toward the candlelight. I could barely see a faint glow, just a pinpoint of light, which fell on the table. I focused on the light. "And?"

"I didn't see him." I heard the noise of a drawer closing roughly, then another.

"I suppose he saw you?"

"Yeah." She answered shortly. The door slammed. I listened for a moment, to be sure that she was still on the inside of the door. I heard her shallow, frustrated breathing as she moved back toward the kitchen. "It was Mikaelson."

"Ah." I couldn't tell what she was doing. I heard the soft noise of her moving around our small cabin, occasionally slamming something here and there. I would've told her to be calm, but I knew that reason was lost on her when she was angry with Mikaelson. The two of them seemed to have had it out for each other since the first day he was stationed in our township. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” She answered instantly. I frowned, not quite able to believe my proud girl when she said she wasn't hurt-- especially not after an encounter with dear Sergeant Mikaelson. “Just fine.”

“Mm.” I scratched my chin a moment before sighing and shaking my head. I couldn't argue she wasn't okay, since I couldn't actually see her-- and I couldn't do anything to make her temper simmer out. All there was to do was wait for her to cool down. Time was the best medicine when it came to my little girl’s hot temper.

* * *

Kyanna Rosenfeld

I slammed a small set of drawers back on its feet and shut each of the compartments as I roughly wiped the last remnants of tears off my face. It’d been worth a try—pretending to cry, so he’d take pity. I started toward the door, glaring into the darkness. You’re one up for now… but I’ll get you back. I swear it. “I didn’t see him.”

“I suppose he saw you?”

“Yeah.” For a short, crazed moment I had thoughts of charging back out into the night. Of hunting in the darkness until I found that jerk, Mikaelson, and then— I slammed the door, forcing myself to stop that train of thought. I knew that facing Mikaelson a second time in the same night, with no witnesses around, would end in that never ending sleep for me. I glanced at Father, trying to calm myself, then started back toward the kitchen to finish cleaning. “It was Mikaelson.”

“Ah.”

I walked over to the candle and held my arms out to it, looking at the large red crescents that Mikaelson’s fingernails left on my forearms. As my heart slowed it’s racing against my chest, pain slowly started showing itself. The aching in my shoulders and back was doubled, and my shirt kept sticking to a skinned patch on my side. My head was throbbing nearly as badly as my arms were.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” I answered automatically, flinching as I lifted my shirt to look at my side. There was no skin left on my right side. It burned and was oozing a clear liquid. I wrinkled my nose and let my shirt fall. I saw him frown. “Just fine.”

“Mm.”

I took several deep breaths, trying to focus on anything but Mikaelson, or soldiers. There was a long, long paused in our conversation. Father was shaking his head, but didn’t try to calm me down. I let out a small sigh of relief. I found it near impossible to calm down when people won’t give me any space to breathe.

As I was starting to calm down, he spoke again. “Are you back in control of yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then, get The Scriptures and come over here.”

“But…” I glanced out the window, suddenly remembering what I’d been doing. “Auron.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “You really think you can get to him tonight?”

“If I go out the side door—“

“He’ll hear you.”

“But if I’m really quiet—“

“No.”

I sighed, frustrated. Father was right. There was no good in trying to get to my dear baby brother tonight. He’d just have to go one more night on an empty stomach. I walked over to the shelf over Father’s head and pulled the book of Scriptures off the shelf, being careful not to groan as a wave of pain crawled down my back.

I sat down and waited for Father to tell me which verses to read.