Noctisardor Bypass tell me lies, tell me painted truths

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: mention of blood, vomit, violence, references to sexual violence

i can make it a RO if nobody joins to find her. :) set somewhere in the days after the raid.

It was not until the next day that Laurel awoke at last. The stench of blood and vomit was heavy in the air. She could barely move from the pain in her shoulder. Laurel wasn't sure if it was the pain that awoke her, or if it was the pain that tried to keep her suspended. Yet once she opened her eyes, she could not drift back into unconsciousness.

Thoughts were swirling way before Laurel managed to move her body. She looked around but found no trace of @Indra III. Baby? Her words echoed through the empty cave. A trail of blood lead back from where she had come from. The vomit was maybe a wolf's length away. The worst of its stench had gone by now. Sweetheart? Nothing but her own voice met her, and Laurel struggled against tears from the pain — both the physical and emotional.

You weren't strong enough.
The familiar voice.
Or maybe I just did not want you to murder him, too, dearest. Maybe I wanted to keep your mind all to myself.

Laurel choked out a sob as her thoughts drifted to @Abel Redleaf. She hadn't seen him the entire attack. Had he gotten away safely? Was she right to have heard his voice, in the midst of it all, as she and Indra ran? She had told herself that it wasn't true at the time, because she knew that turning back would drive them right into Merrick's jaws. But now... Abel had never been as loved as Indra, but as she lay there, Laurel wished that she'd been a better mother to him. She wished that she loved him the same way.

And she loathed to think that he had lead Merrick to her and Indra. She could not believe that; but what if it was true?

Then maybe he is better off taken, anyway, isn't he, dearest? To be the cause of taking away your precious sweet little Indra? Laurel grit her teeth. Maybe he did it on purpose. Maybe he hoped that Merrick would wrench Indra from your chest so he could be your favourite. NO! HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT! The loud roar echoed through the caves, but even Laurel had to admit that it was perhaps so loud because she was afraid that it might be true.

What if Abel had purposefully lead them to her?

What if he was taking revenge for Indra always being the favourite child?

What if he would tell her that he had lead Merrick to them, if he would admit it? Could she ever forgive him?

And what of @Mahler? Was he alright? Just like with Abel, Laurel worried for him at first. He was her friend in some way at least, and he had stuck up for her and Indra, given them a route out. It hadn't mattered in the end, though. He had caught them all the same.

Then, darker thoughts spilled forward. Didn't you tell him about the threat of Merrick, dearest? Didn't you tell him this when Rivenwood was strong with many warriors at its disposal? Didn't you say that they would come and hurt our children? Laurel tried to get up, but her shoulder wouldn't budge; the pain was too overwhelming. She choked out another sob as she admitted softly, under her breath, I told him. I told him they would come. I said that Merrick would hurt our children. And he said... Her words broke up from another choked sob that forced its way out through her chest and sent a shudder of pain through her entire body.

He promised that he would protect you. He promised that he would protect them.

Tears flowed more freely as Laurel thought of her children and of Mahler, thoughts painted with worry and agony. I'm the only one you can truly depend on, dearest. It was true. Laurel hated to admit it, but he was right. Everyone else seemed intent on breaking her apart, piece by piece.

The borders between physical and mental pain were blurred, and truth and fiction were hard to tell apart. Perhaps because when it came to feelings, there was no such thing as truth.

But don't worry, dearest.

I will help you get them back. I will help you be strong again. I will help you polish your claws so you can tear out his heart.

There is just one thing I need first.

Eyes widened.

I need you to finally tell me the truth. No more lies.

Never, she murmured into the cold floor of the cave, but it was clear from her wavering, shaking voice that she knew that she had no choice.

Tell me that you love me, my dearest, and that you are mine forever.

Sequoia had actively avoided the conflict, laying low and skirting anything severe. Some might have seen it as a coward's move, but Sequioa was a survivor, and the best way to survive this was to stay the fuck away. She had to survive so she could find @Druid and @Witch. And then they would get away from Rivenwood. Far, far away.

The strong stench of blood and vomit was strong, and Sequioa made her way toward it. Laurel's scent was mixed in, and that worried her even more. Besides her daughters, Laurel was the closest thing she had to family. She crept closer to her, keeping low and as hidden as possible, lest one of the raiders was still nearby.

Laurel! she whispered. Laurel, are you okay?

mahler drifted in and out of consciousness.
rivenwood was hollow following the departure of their attackers. he did not yet know that they had taken indra. he opened his eyes. he shut them again and fell back into a satin blackness.
when the man recovered himself, this time he stayed present and rolled to one elbow. wylla. he felt as though he had seen her; it did not feel as if she were dead.
slowly it filtered back to him, in ever-widening snippets of bloodstained visuals; the pain that lanced through his body was enough to sicken him.
laurel.
the man lifted his heavy crown into the sky and began a doleful baying, calling to the scattered members of his pack. one step. another. the cave. the reek of merrick thickened as he he stumbled between the trees.
how long had it been?
"laurel," the man croaked as he weaved in the den's entrance. the sharp tang of vomit struck his nostrils. she was here, and his healer's knowledge told him of her dire state.
sequoia too, whispering in the dark. he could hardly bring himself to look at her. "laurel," he grunted hoarsely, sitting down too roughly beside her. he reached out to assess her wounds; to feel the pulse fluttering in her throat. 
"laurel. stand."
his mind took a mental tally of those he had seen and those he had not.
shame burned heavy and willful in the amethyst eyes, but mahler was resolute. he had failed in his guardianship. he would not fail in his healing.

A voice came first. Was it Indra? Baby? Laurel called out hoarsely in response. As she looked up, her gaze following the voice, she saw splotches of tan and white. Lucas? Incredulous tone, but loving with a mother's touch. It was impossible. Lucas was dead! But her blurred sight told her that it was him. But the voice... It was a different, familiar voice. Her disjointed mind tried to make sense of it all, but the problem was that it didn't make sense.

Don't get distracted, dearest. You haven't struck a deal yet. If you ever want to recover, you know what you have to do.

Tears, dried and fresh mingled, stung at the corners of her eyes. She had told him never, but what choice did she have? To die and never see her baby girl again, or to strike a deal with this.. man. It disgusted her that these were the options she had.

Not long after another arrived. Calling her voice. Laurel. Wicked and sing-song, just like Merrick's voice. A hint of love to the edges of that name as it was spoken. Laurel. Again. The touch was rough and shocked her into reality. Eyes snapped wide open abruptly as she looked up at him. Through blurred vision she saw his dark fur, greyed edges --

No, he was dead! She saw him die with her own eyes!

Say it. Cold, demanding. The voice of a man who was not dead at all.

The presence of Lucas with the strangely familiar female voice lingered in the distance, but he was now the apparition, as her worst nightmare sat right next to her, fur mingling with hers as he assessed her open, blood-stained, messed up shoulder. Other than that she only had a few more shallow wounds across her body. Funny. Laurel had never taken Iliksis to be a healer. Maybe he was just hurting her for the fun of it, though.

Laurel weakly lifted her head while her wounds were assessed. Her body trembled, shuddered at every touch. Then quite suddenly Laurel pressed her head up against him, feeling his warm, blood-stained fur and shuddering at the thought of what she was doing. But he had said -- she knew she had not other choice.

Words were choked out at last through wretched sobs, unmistakably involuntary: I love you. ... And...? Bated breath. I'll b-be yours forever. The words were barely audible, low and shameful and submissive, nothing like her usual self; meant only for his ears, because it would be unbearable if anyone else heard her submission to this monster. She looked away, to the ground, shame washing over her once more. It was overwhelming, and it made her wish that she had not given in; that she had accepted death's embrace and giving up on her chances at revenge instead.

Now, there's a good girl. My dearest Laurel. She couldn't even tell if the voice was in the cave or her head.

Laurel, stand. The promised delivery. The promised strength. Yes, dearest. Oh, my sweet Laurel, mine at last. I will make you strong. I will give you teeth and claw to bring him down. I will deliver the world to your feet, if that's what you desire. The laughter was chilling. Laurel once more tried to get to her feet, like she tried before. She wasn't sure if anyone was helping her -- Iliksis, or maybe Lucas? -- but finally she managed to bite through the pain and rise, at last.

She wasn't making any sense, and Mahler's voice came ringing quiet, then closer and louder. He looked like hell. So did Laurel. And for what? Sequoia didn't even know why this other pack had attacked them. Did it have something to do with Druid's disappearance?

Sequoia turned to Mahler.

Why did they do this? What do they think we did to them? Or are they just sadists? She so desperately wanted answers. And she wanted to know that Witch was okay. That Druid was okay. And where were Indra and Abel?

She helped Laurel to her feet, though she wasn't sure where Mahler intended to take her. Had she not been standing ear-to-ear with Laurel, she wouldn't have heard the whispered words. Sequoia assumed they were intended for Laurel's children.

Where are we taking her?

mahler froze for a moment. a look into laurel's eyes showed him that she was not yet present. "the pharmacy," he managed to sequoia.
to whom had laurel been speaking? surely not him. mahler was not sure what to make of her words. it was clear to his eyes that aside from the physical wounding of her body, the woman had suffered in another ways. and he did not know how to conceptualize this either.
despite his own determination, mahler recalled vividly the warning that laurel had given, the one he had not heeded. and he had not listened because he had not wanted to place all of rivenwood in a war.
but it had come to them all the same.
"it vas her nephew, merrick. he killed before. he came to finish the last of his family." mahler did not know how else to explain, for such things were not easily described or contemplated by those without such bloodthirsty madness.
you failed you failed you failed; his mind cursed him with the mantra of it as the three of them half-walked, half-staggered to his larder of medicine.
he did not allow himself to think of the boy. "sequoia," he said heavily when they had set laurel against a tree, "you must help me this time."
he staggered among the shelves, blinking heavily to keep himself awake. "clean her neck, please," he asked, sitting down heavily to chew comfrey and birch bolus.

So yeah, sadists. Cheesy crust. Sequoia wished she could say she didn't understand, but she remembered how Drageda's members had been after she had left. After anyone had left. They were called traitors, and they'd been hunted down like prey. It sounded like something similar was going on with Laurel and her nephew.

After the explanation, the two moved Laurel silently to the pharmacy. Thankfully, it wasn't too far, and her ears swiveled toward his voice when he explained what she must do. She had done as much for wolves in the past, and the piebald girl went to work, being as gentle as she could with Laurel's neck.

The echo of Laurel saying it would be nice to go where there were no men rang in her ears as she did so. Maybe that wasn't such a bad idea. Once she found Druid, Sequioa planned to get out of here. She'd thank Mahler, of course, and she'd even invite Laurel to come with them, but they weren't safe here anymore.

Laurel kept drifting in and out of consciousness, only vaguely registering that she was moving at all. Only vaguely registering her wounds being cleaned. She let them guide her wherever, although her legs were happy to buckle once they'd reached their destination. Laurel grit her teeth as she lay down and murmured quietly under her breath, You promised to give her back. Why isn't she back yet?! Now now, Laurel dearest. These things take time. She didn't have time. Every second counted. Merrick was going to kill her!

Eyes became heavy and weak but then snapped open. Breath sped up. Laurel looked around to see two familiar faces — Sequoia and Mahler — and she had only one question. Where's Indra?! With bated breath she waited, hoping that either of them would tell her that they'd found Indra and that she was safe now.

mahler did not know how to answer laurel;
he was fiercely, horrendously grateful for sequoia's presence there with them. he gathered his things and returned to her side. "vith ursus," he said hoarsely, refusing to lie or smooth words. they had been raided. they had been wounded. the red child had been taken. mahler began to paint the worst of her lacerations with his poultice.
"lie still. you can do nothing if your vounds set into fever." pragmatism would guide him. he was thankful that sequoia had hidden with witch, though her teeth might have turned the tide for indra.
but there was no blame, not truly. 
he closed his eyes for a moment and sat back against the snowy side of the pharmacy. gut roiled with bloodloss and his own sensation of choking anger. "ve must count the others. regroup. duskfire vill be safe."
and then he was back with laurel once more, layering more chewed herbs upon her bloodied flesh and willing his own grief to stay at bay as long as it was able.

The. Fuck? Apparently this other pack had taken Indra as a hostage. And for what purpose? If this Merrick really wanted to kill the rest of his family, he'd done a piss poor job of it. Laurel was alive, and Sequoia was fairly certain she'd stop at nothing to get her daughter back. She moved back to let Mahler work now that the cleaning had been done. Why was it that conflict followed him wherever he went? Was it a him thing, or was it that he surrounded himself with wolves who attracted it?

Duskfire? she asked. She had heard the name in passing, she was pretty sure, but... What do they have to do with this?

Mahler was quick to respond that they had taken Indra, and Laurel growled in response. He said they should regroup at Duskfire, and Laurel could not believe her ears! No! We must get Indra back! Every second she's there — The last words were choked out and she could not finish them. Laurel knew that she was in no position to go anywhere, least of all Ursus, right now though. Someone had to get Indra back for her, though!

After that outburst, Laurel grit her teeth and lay as still as she could manage. She vaguely heard Sequoia ask about Duskfire. Laurel agreed, there; what did they have to do with this? Laurel was in no position to go anywhere, anyway. And she didn't want to see the man that Mahler had forced her to turn to when she was in heat. She certainly didn't want Abel to go there if he was safe, because she hadn't honoured her promise to tell the man about his children. Suddenly Laurel realised again that Abel was still missing, too. Was he safe? Or had he been taken, too? Have you seen Abel? I haven't seen him since before...

"they took the boy as vell."
mahler's gaze tightened with pain. "if they vere villing to be vounded and mauled, i doubt they vill bring the children to harm." his gaze was blurring black and satin; he sat down upon his haunches and stopped his chewing for a moment. head lolled. he refused to succumb and dragged himself back to present.
"i think that druid ran avay, in the fracas," he told sequoia. but witch was all right. and if druid had escaped then perhaps she too was safe. "duskfire glacier is our ally."
mahler inhaled a great breath and returned to mending laurel as best he was able.

Sequoia also thought time was of the essence, but she also knew that rushing into this would lead to dire consequences. If Laurel threw herself at Merrick, she would likely get herself killed, and both Indra and Abel would still be there. Nobody would win except Ursus. The Dritte gritted her teeth.

She wasn't so sure that Indra and Abel were safe, either. Who was to say whether they were safe or not?

I'm going to go look for @Witch, she said, then turned to Mahler. Unless you need me for anything?

Laurel grit her teeth as Mahler said that Abel was taken, too. His voice felt cold, but maybe it was just the blood loss that was making her feel that way. Sequoia excused herself, unless Mahler needed anything from her. After she had gone to look for her own children, Laurel looked at Mahler and asked him, pleadingly: Stay with me. I don't want to be alone. Please. She didn't want to be alone because that meant being with Iliksis, and every little sound would make her jump. She knew that Mahler had Wylla, too, but Laurel had no one, and she needed him to be here, at least until she fell asleep.

"yes, of course."
he nodded at sequoia, vision beginning to curl black at the edges. carefully he settled close to laurel, not so near that they would touch but enough to suggest that he was present.
mahler breathed.
a black pool enveloped him and while he stayed upright, he too would drift once laurel's breathing had steadied.

my last here <3

Mahler promised he would stay, and Laurel let out a relieved sigh. Sequoia would set off to look for Witch, presumably. She felt somewhat safe, at least, knowing that Mahler was nearby.

Before she knew it, Laurel drifted out of consciousness, exhausted by the fight, the pain, and the emotional duress of her missing children.