Chapter Text
The tavern was cheery with the warm light of the lamps and fireplaces, and the happy sounds of a rowdy crowd. The old, dark wooden rafters had watched over the lives of many generations of villagers here in the small hamlet of Haven, and tonight the ale was flowing plentifully beneath them. The Baron’s son had led a successful hunt that day, and everyone was excited about the coming feasts. And the fact that tonight, the Baron’s coin was paying for their drinks.
Everyone was feeling festive except for Blake Belladonna.
Hiding in the shadows of a hallway corner next to the kitchen where her mother, Kali, was pulling more loaves of hearty brown bread from the oven and slicing thick slabs of rich, creamy butter to go along with them, Blake knew that she needed to get back out in the tavern and help with service. Her family’s tavern stood to make a great deal of money tonight, and the girl they’d hired to assist, Ilia, didn’t stand a chance at keeping up with everyone herself. But every time she drew in a deep breath and tried to step around the corner to resume her duties, her courage died in her chest. Her feline faunus ears flattened against her ebony-brown hair while her hands knotted her skirts in frustration.
Don’t start crying, Blake. You can’t let him… let any of them… see that you’re about to cry.
“Blake! Where are you, girl? Ilia needs help out here!” her father Ghira roared from behind the bar. One more time, Blake choked back her fear. She’d been called out now. She had to go. Painting on a smile that anyone who wasn’t a drunk villager would know was fake, she squared her shoulders and marched back out into the tavern, grabbing her serving platter as she went. Fortunately, nearly everyone in the room was a drunken villager tonight.
“There you are!” Ilia had to practically yell into her ear over the roar of the crowd. “Where have you been? They’re all drinking so fas-” It was then that the chameleon girl noticed the anxiety in Blake’s amber-gold eyes, and her flushed skin darkened. She grabbed Blake’s arm and pulled her back, glancing out into the tavern patronage. “Hey, I can handle him and his men if you need me to, Blake.”
Blake shook her head, tossing her locks about her face. “No, he’ll definitely notice, and then he’ll make a scene about it. Things will be even worse then.” She gave Ilia a genuine smile, albeit a thin one, and squeezed her hand in gratitude. “Thanks though. I’ll be okay.”
Ilia gave her a look that made it abundantly clear she did not think Blake would be even the slightest bit okay, but also knew her words were the truth of the matter. Blake trying to avoid the Baron’s son when he was in the tavern would ultimately just make things worse.
Scooping up as many pints of ale as she could carry, Blake waded out into the crowd. There was no point trying to deliver them to any one patron or another on a night like tonight. Most of them were already too drunk to keep track of whether they’d ordered another round anyways. She just had to keep the drinks moving across the bar. It was standing-room only. Maybe he’s too excited about getting to kill something today to remember me? If I just keep my head low…
But it was too late.
“Oi! There she is! Come over here, my pretty kitty!” Adam Taurus, scion of Baron Taurus and village hero, called out to her. Even if his loud voice hadn’t carried over everyone else’s, her sensitive ears would never be able to miss it. And he would never let her ignore it. Ignoring him when he wanted her attention was not allowed.
At least the tavern was too busy for anyone to notice her trembling as he beckoned her to where he and his friends were holding court by the main fireplace. “There my lass is! I almost thought you were going to miss out on celebrating my hunt tonight!”
“Of course not, your Lordship. Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” she forced out through clenched teeth.
“Come, then! I was just regaling the boys with how I put an arrow clean through that she-lion’s heart!” His hand stretched out towards her. She knew he intended to wrap it around her, to claim her and perch her on him like another one of his trophies. Blake hated his touch every time she had to feel it on her. Resisting his call, she shuffled a half-step forward.
“You… killed a lion today?” she asked, hoping to distract him.
“Indeed he did!” Adam’s right-hand man, the piggish-nosed Cardin, cheered loudly. “Put an arrow into the bitch mid-pounce! I’ve never seen a shot like that!”
With a twinge of annoyance across his face, Adam lunged forward and grabbed Blake’s wrist roughly. She staggered as he pulled her in and forcibly sat her on his lap, wrapping his arm around her waist tight enough to make it clear she’d need his permission to leave. “Come now, Blake, sit with me and be amazed by our hunting tales!”
He knows how I hate this. He enjoys how much I hate it. I won’t give him the satisfaction of fighting. Blake retreated into her mind, trying to remember to nod and smile when the assembled hunters roared at each other’s boasts, and struggling to ignore how Adam’s hand felt like a hot iron clamped around her hip.
Her mental fortress crumbled when Adam squeezed her, hard. “I think I’ll have the lion’s skin tailored into a cape! Wouldn’t it be fine to be seen about town on the arm of a man in a lion-skin cape, my pet?” All of Adam’s men were staring at her, expecting the girlish giggle of a lass delighted to be the Baron’s son’s chosen. Because what village girl wouldn’t want that? Adam was strong and handsome, a renown hunter and jousting champion whose bull horns declared his wealth with their golden tips. Being his would mean an escape into the nobility, leaving behind working the land and family businesses for a life of silks and perfumes and palace parties. Any girl in the village would love to take her place. More than a few had already been in his bed, a fact he made no effort to hide from her. She knew that, if he didn’t enjoy the sense of hunting her even more than he liked hunting game, he’d have pulled her there as well by now.
“I’m sure it will look lovely,” she managed to answer.
“Lovely? Hear that, Master, she thinks you’d be lovely!” Cardin roared with laughter. Adam’s fingers dug painfully into Blake’s side as he sneered, forcing her to grit her teeth to avoid yelping in pain.
“Blake, my kitty, a man is not ‘lovely’. A man is ‘powerful’ and ‘revered’ for his conquests. You’d do well to remember your good fortune that I favor you with being in my shadow as such a man,” he growled.
Rage seethed within Blake’s heart, and she envisioned herself clawing that smug grin off Adam’s face, ripping the condescension right out of his piercing blue eyes that dared to look at her like he owned her. Her fingers tightened reflexively in her lap. Don’t give him the satisfaction of your anger, Blake , she warned herself yet again. Instead, smiling, she wrapped an arm around Adam’s shoulder and cooed as she leaned into him.
“Of course, your Lordship! My apologies, I was just so swept up in your men’s tales of your gallantry that I forgot myself! Of course, I am honored and flattered with your favor!”
The tension in Adam’s hand as his men jeered their approval let her know that he had seen clearly through her snark even if they had not, and that she would pay for it at some point.
“So tell us, my Lord, how much longer do you intend to just favor this pretty girl before you put a ring on her and take her home, eh?”
“Those hips have plenty of little baron-lings to bear, after all!” one of the men leered at her. Her stomach turned at the thought.
Adam smiled. “I suppose the season is approaching, isn’t it? Perhaps I should make her mine before she gets a fright in her pretty little head that I never will.” Blake’s back recoiled from his touch as he ran a hand up her. “After all, I’m sure that keeping to the propriety of having to wait for my ring is making her loins all feverish!”
The gathered men howled with laughter. Blake could feel all their eyes undressing her and imagining her beneath her captor, squealing like a farm animal being bred. She couldn’t take it anymore. Taking advantage of his hand having released her hip, she twisted off his lap, shoving his arm away as she dove back into the crowd with her face burning. Her display only egged Adam and his men on more. “See, now we’ve gotten her all flustered with excitement! Never fear my pet, you too will have the pleasure of my spear soon enough!” he called after her as Blake shoved her way towards the back door, tears welling hot on her cheeks.
Blake ignored the angry shouts of the patrons she elbowed through and the crash of beer steins shattering on the floor. All she could focus on was the door and the escape that it offered into the lonely night. Her shoulder slammed into the heavy planks, sending pain stabbing through her as her flight was suddenly arrested. With a shriek of effort, Blake forced it open and ran out into the dark. The door swinging shut behind her mercifully cut off the voices from the tavern.
She didn’t stop with just getting out the door. Although she could barely see through the tears in her eyes, Blake just ran and ran. All she could think of was escaping. That if she ran fast enough and long enough, she’d never have to feel Adam’s hands on her body again, or hear his voice calling her ‘his pet’. The pools of street lamp light illuminating her path were growing further and further apart as she neared the edge of the village, until there were none and she was running through the dark.
She hated him so much. She’d hated Adam since the first time he’d ever noticed her. Maybe she’d caught his eye precisely because of that, because he enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and of bending someone to his will until they broke. She’d always been able to see that cruelty in him, how he toyed with and used everyone around him for his amusement and pleasure.
But Adam Taurus was the Baron’s son. He commanded more money and power than anyone else in Haven. The favor of Baron Taurus could make anyone, and just as easily, his displeasure could ruin them. Inexorably, the social pressure of the whole town had forced her closer and closer to him. The more she’d tried to avoid him, the more he seemed to always be around. Always finding a way to make a claim to her, to put his hands on her. And now, she was ‘Adam’s girl’ in the eyes of her entire community, no matter how much she despised it.
Chest heaving from exertion, Blake stumbled to a stop and screamed. Nothing in the shadows of the moonlit forest answered her back. Her breath coming in ragged gasps, she finally began to take stock of her surroundings. Blake didn’t recognize the trail she was on, and she was far enough down it that she could no longer see the lights of the village.
Did I take any forks in the trail? Is this even a trail, or am I just in the middle of the woods? The shattered moon overhead was barely a broken sliver, and the weak yellow glow peaking through the clouds did little to help her find her bearings, even with her enhanced faunus sight. The cool of the night that had felt comforting on her hot face as she’d run out of the tavern was starting to feel like chill fingers tugging at her skin, and she regretted not having grabbed her shawl in her escape. Hugging herself, Blake turned in place, her ears swiveling in vain for some clue as to where she was.
She sighed. “What do I even have to go back to?” Blake muttered to herself. She instantly felt her words ring hollow on her lips. She loved her parents, and her friends. She couldn’t just leave. Where would I even go? It’s not like I have money, or connections, to go and establish myself somewhere else . No; however she looked at it, Blake was trapped. Her home and her life had become a prison. She thought she was done crying, but a fresh sob ripped through her chest.
A gust of wind rattled the dense tree branches around her, and she glimpsed a flicker of light in the distance. With a shiver, Blake started walking in that direction, the branches she’d sprinted over so effortlessly earlier suddenly feeling like a significant impediment as she stumbled in the dark. Frustration took the sadness that had gripped her and riled it to anger.
There’s got to be some way I can get rid of Adam. Make him lose interest. Maybe I can find an old wive’s potion to grow some nasty, hairy moles on my nose? The thought made her giggle. Blake knew she was attractive; she’d been noticing people noticing her slender, lithely-muscled form, delicate face framed by lush dark hair, and bright, piercing eyes for a long time. Didn’t I read a fairy tale once where a witch or someone cast a spell on a pretty girl to make her ugly so she could escape her suitors? Pretty sure it worked out badly for her. Sounds like bullshit to me though. Who cares about some warts if you get to live alone in the woods without anyone trying to own you and control you?
The light she’d been trying to follow had disappeared. Blake panicked for a moment before she picked it up again, albeit in a different direction than she’d expected. Sighing and rubbing her arms for warmth, she adjusted her path and continued walking, continuing to brainstorm increasingly-unlikely schemes to get away from Adam Taurus.
Blake had reached the point of fantasizing about him getting eaten by a dragon when it suddenly occurred to her that she’d been following the light for quite a while, and the trees just seemed to be getting denser. She knew she’d changed directions quite a few times by now as well. Her foot caught on a gnarled root, and Blake tumbled down to the ground. The earth was mucky and clung to her when she stood, and the wet, oozing sensation on her foot let her know that she’d lost a shoe. Cursing, she started patting the earth around her, trying to find her missing footwear.
As her fingers probed the darkness, she felt something cold and damp around the ankle that still had a shoe. Squealing, Blake jumped up, surprised by how hard she had to tug to get her foot to come with her. A dank, marshy smell wafted around her as the nagging worry that she might have gotten lost exploded into fear inside her.
Is this… did I wander into the boglach? Blake knew that if you went deep enough into the woods, you’d come upon the flooded bog that filled the space between it and Loc Matsu. There was no reason for anyone to ever enter the bog. It was treacherous, with knotty trees hiding whatever way through the muck and mire might have existed. Mats of decaying plants formed thin surfaces over deep pools of brackish water, mats that would give way and swallow a trespasser with one wrong step.
And that’s without the legend of the Yang , she thought as her belly knotted in fear. Stunned at herself, Blake shook her head and guffawed. Come on, Belladonna! You’re in enough trouble without worrying about make-believe monsters! Every kid in Haven had grown up on stories of the Yang; the hideous, bloodthirsty snake-woman rumored to call the bog her home. Blake had been one of the first of her peers to figure out that the Yang and her hunger for wayward children were likely just an invention to keep them from wandering off into the woods and getting lost. She chuckled. Fat lot of good that did me, huh!
Her humor vanished when Blake stumbled and felt herself plunge into a puddle of muck that came up past her knee. She still hadn’t found her shoe, and as she grabbed onto a tree and grunted to pull herself up and out, she felt the other one slide off as well and knew it was gone for good. Her leg came free with a gross-sounding squelch, and she clung to the tree like she was a drowning man holding a log in a rough sea.
Blake was definitely scared now. What were you doing, running away from the tavern like that? You foolish girl! She started trying to tell herself that she’d rather have Adam pawing her up than be stumbling through the bog in the dark, but the thought died in her mind. No, I think I’ll still take the bog over that. Not that I have an option now. Hanging off the tree, she squinted around for the light she’d been trying to follow.
Her heart sank when she saw two lights flare behind her. “Swamp gas?” she murmured. Have I been following swamp gas this whole time? So deep into the bog that it’s behind me now? Shit… Blake resolved to turn around and start trying to pick her way back.
She’d taken a half dozen steps when the ground gave way beneath her. Blake screamed as she dropped into bone-chillingly cold water, gagging on the foul fluid as she tried to fill her lungs before her head went under. She flailed and kicked for the surface, but somehow her legs and arms were tangling in the slimy, rotted plants all around her and dragging her further down. The faint bit of clear water over her head closed up, leaving her trapped in total darkness.
Blake’s lungs were already starting to burn. She knew she couldn’t have sunk far and that she needed to stay calm. She immediately regretted having never learned to swim, despite growing up so close to the dark waters of a loc. But as the cold sapped her body and her desperation for air grew, all thoughts of calmness left her. She willed herself… up? That way’s up, right? How am I suddenly not sure?
It was so dark, and Blake felt so cold. And then something grabbed her leg.
