The last page of our story (rp)

[Jen]

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[Alessaina]

Chaol regretted having to do this. Finley had hit it right on the mark, he'd gotten her to trust him and then squandered it by taking her away from her new, happier life, to return to her old one of servitude. He wanted to pin all the blame on Mirela, but he knew he couldn't, because he could have not written her the details of his and Finley's exchanges. It didn't excuse the fact she betrayed his trust and contacted his uncle with a copy of the letter, who then made it clear that he had to return home with Finley in tow, or else.

With a scowl and crossed arms, Chaol looks around the deck of the ship, only to find Mirela lurking near a group of sailors. She watches him with her normal calm demeanor, her hazel eyes guarded, yet looking like that of a sad young child. Taking a few steps forward, the young woman makes her way to Chaol, remaining quiet. She always knew when Chaol needed to speak first, and thus remained standing there without so much of a word.

"You lied to me, Mirela."

"It was for your own good, Chaol. You deserve better than some servant."

"Gods! You've known how I feel about Finley for three years and you never had a problem with it until now. Until I found her in Cadomyr by pure accident. Then it turned into this age-old defense of my being above her means she isn't good enough for me. What kind of sense does that make, Mirela? How could you change your mind so suddenly?"

"She's no good! All you've been able to think about since that fire is Finley. That girl is trouble and always will be and you were risking your entire life for some girl who may or may not even love you!"

"Oh so she's trouble now? Because of an accident?" Chaol turns and stalks a few steps away from her, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white.

"She's caused you nothing but heartache, Chaol, and you still seek her out. You still crave her attention and her affection. Well you aren't going to get it, Chaol!"

"It might have worked out, Mirela. But no, you had to go and relay my letter to you to my uncle! You just had to tell him that I found Finley and that her contract had been ripped up, making it so my uncle can easily sweep her away into servitude again!"

"If I can't have you, then neither can she" Mirela shouts finally, her breath heavy as she watches Chaol with a helpless expression.

"All this because I don't share your feelings. So you take away the only person that truly matters to me? We were friends, Mirela." Chaol shouts in return, his face turning red when he turns to look back at the young woman.

"We were friends. Good friends. But you never looked past that because you were too stuck on this girl. And I've had enough of being the one that picks you up and helps you, because frankly, Chaol, it kills me inside to see you like this. She doesn't deserve you." With that, Mirela reaches out to touch Chaol's face, her warm hazel eyes pleading with him.

[Jen]

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[Alessaina]

Stepping between the two fighting women was terrifying. The two red-haired women were out for blood and Finley had already gotten a taste, for now she wanted more. He understood where she was coming from; Mirela had no right to say those things to her.

"Mirela, go. Have a medico see to you. Now." His tone was authoritative, one he only used if charm and persuasive words didn't get him his way.

Mirela spits onto the deck, blood and saliva mixing. The spit lands at Chaol's feet as she turns and goes below deck, holding her nose with her hand.

"Finley."

Chaol turns back, only to find Finley in another sailor's grasp, his hand wrapped firmly around her bicep. He looks her over for any visible injuries or open wounds, his breath hitching at the sight of her tousled clothing hair.

"Let me go!" Finley barks at the sailor, who doesn't budge. Only after a few moments Finley's shoulders slump, and seems to have given up. She glares at Chaol for a moment, but then looks at him defeated.

"You heard her. Let her go." The sailor releases Finley. "Come with me."

Chaol doesn't wait for her to follow him to the side of the deck. Leaning against the railing, Chaol closes his eyes, gathering his thoughts and calming himself. He knew Mirela wouldn't apologize; it wasn't her way. And Finley wasn't in the wrong for going after Mirela like that.

"Are you alright?" The few scratches that he sees don't seem too bad, and he guesses that any blood on her is Mirela's. "You got her good."

Finley seems out of breath, a restless look about her as she fixes Chaol with her grey eyes.

"Don't play coy with me. Maybe you didn't rat me out with your uncle, but you're just as at fault, as Mirela is. Don't think for a moment I'm going to forget this!"

"I don't expect you to forget it. I was just asking if you were alright. Gods, Finley."

He turns to face her now, dark eyes alight with frustration.

"I didn't want you to do anything you might regret. If it had escalated anymore, you can bet she would have sought out justice, or even revenge."

"I'm not scared of her.", Finley says defiantly, her voice trembling with anger and frustration. "In fact, I hope she'll give me a reason."

With a low chuckle, Chaol sweeps his hands around as he speaks. "So be it. Let me know how that works out for you."

Finley stalks off with a huff.

The rest of the journey is quiet. Mirela avoids him most of the time, making the occasional quip here and there about her nose or how he's "owned" by Finley. Chaol ignores her, walking in the other direction if she tries to speak to him.

Finley avoids him as well, giving him the same treatment he gives to Mirela. The silence is unbearable, but does he deserve anything else? What he did was cruel, thinking back on it. He'd told her that he loves her, then followed it with the fact that he had to take her back to his uncle. He wished it could have gone another way, that when he finally told her he loved her, he wouldn't be met with tears of confusion.

Two more weeks pass quickly and the ship finally reaches its destination.

[Jen]

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[Jen]

(...)

[Alessaina]

Chaol stands before the group of bandits as they come rushing at the group. He slides his sword from its sheath, swinging it out defensively away from him.

"Mirela, get the merchant away!"

The woman growls in irritation and grabs the arm of the merchant and drags him to cover. The group of bandits advance, six men dressed in ragged leather, their faces thin and dirty. Three divert from the group, chasing after the two servants who had already pulled out their weapons. Chaol steps forward, charging the apparent leader of the group, a man of no more than a few years older than Chaol. The bandit moves quickly, his motions jerky but swift as he delivers heavy blow after heavy blow against Chaol's sword, his attack unrelenting.

With a frustrated growl, Chaol eventually dispatches the bandit, seeking out his next target, an archer stand several meters down the road, who dips an arrow in a vial of liquid.

"Guard my back, Finley!"

Chaol rushes forward, sprinting to the archer, holding his sword low with two hands. The archer takes aim at him and looses the arrow and it in-beds itself in his right shoulder. He falters a step, but then continues one, making quick work of the archer as well before turning back around to see how the rest of the group was faring. He breaks the shaft of the arrow off, throwing it to the ground with a pained groan.

[Jen]

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[Alessaina]

They made it to the village in record time, seeing the lights from the outer ring of buildings after two hours of walking. His shoulder throbbed with every movement, though it was tolerable for the most part. Chaol felt weak however, the strength in his limbs waning from whatever the arrow had been dipped in.

Mirela rushed forward, her long legs carrying her ahead of them.

"We need a medico! Someone! A medico!" She shouted, hands cupped on either side of her mouth to help the sound throughout the entire village. With a few more steps, Chaol finally gave into the pain of his shoulder and collapsed on the road. Faint shouts sound around him, two voices unfamiliar, coaxing him to keep his eyes open.

~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke to the patter of light footsteps on the floor. A lamp oil burned next to him, seated precariously on the crooked table. Groaning, Chaol sat up, holding his breath as he remembered what happened.

"Thank the gods you're alright," Mirela said, tears having formed in her eyes. The lamp light flickered, casting shadows around the room. Chaol looked around, and not instantly spotting anyone else, turned back to look at Mirela. He held an open arm out to her, to which she launched herself into, slipping her arms around him in a tight embrace. Patting her back, he sighed.

"The medicos said that you'll be fine in a couple days. Apparently the poison wasn't serious; just something that had to run its course. You have to rest up though before we can leave again."

"No, we need to set out soon."

"Chaol, you need rest. Let me take care of you." She was pleading with him, her hazel eyes wide and concerned.

"Let me talk to the medicos." Mirela left then, a pout on her lips. She returned with the two medicos in tow, two older women with graying hair. Both reassured Chaol that he needed to rest for a few days, but he couldn't hardly pay attention, his eyes fixed on the open door. Would Finley come see him? Had she seen him at all? Or was she avoiding him again?

[Jen]

(...)

[Alessaina]

Their arrival was not met with a welcoming party. Varric, Chaol's uncle, and his wife Corryne, had a servant waiting outside for them, one that took their belongings indoor, but gave no word whether or not they were to meet somewhere. Taking the lead, Chaol slowly walked down the large hallway, motioning for the rest of the group to follow him.

Upon entering the sitting room, Chaol froze. Varric and Corryne sat on a futon, their backs to Chaol. Across from them was Mirela's father, a hard, weather-beaten man with deep frown lines on his face.

"Captain. Aunt, Uncle."

All three stand and look at Chaol and his assembled group. Corryne breaks out into a smile, moving around the futon to hug Chaol, her frail frame bony underneath his hands.

"My dear boy, it's so good to see you back safely."

"We ran into a bit of trouble with some bandits, but aye, we're all well."

"I trust you took good care of my daughter, Chaol?" The captain's voice steals the room, loud and thunderous. "I didn't approve of this journey from the start, but Mirela insisted she go along."

"Sir, your daughter was never once in any danger." Mirela coughs, muttering under her breath a comment about Finley, but Chaol ignores it.

"Good, I expect you'll keep that up in the future."

"Now, now, Captain. Don't get too ahead of yourself. Chaol and his... friends have just arrived." Corryne cajols the man, offering him another goblet filled with wine. Chaol looks over his shoulder briefly to Finley and Mirela, a confused expression on his face.

"What are you two going on about?"

"Our kind Captain has made a proposal, Chaol. You'd be wise to listen to him."

He moves toward Mirela's father, offering a hand to shake, though it is clear to see that he is hesitant.

"Neither you or my daughter are getting any younger, my boy. It's time that Mirela has settled down and fulfills her duty to me and to Albar. I'm prepared to offer quite the sum in a dowry. You two get along well enough, so I see no reason why this won't work out."

Shock. He heard Mirela's sharp intake of breath, or was it Finley's?

"I.. I'll have to consider this, Sir."

"I've already accepted on your behalf." Varric finally speaks up, his tone harsh and cold, daring Chaol to speak up. "The ceremony has been set for a week's time."

[Jen]

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[Alessaina]

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, "Come in." Mirela enters, now dressed in a clean shift of dark green cotton. It brushes the top of her boots as she saunters into his bedroom.

"I didn't think your room would be so.. plain." She looks around, a curious expression plastered on her face. The walls were unadorned except for the rack of an elk hung above the fireplace. He had a large bed, with plain colored woolen blankets and sheets, one small table on either side. Last she spied a large wardrobe made of a dark wood, perhaps cherry, that was locked when she tried to open it.

"Well, I didn't spend much time in my room, so I never felt the need to make it my own."

"I see. Listen, Chaol, about today... I didn't know that any of that was going to happen."

"I know, Mir. It was just.. Gods, it was a complete surprise."

"It wouldn't be that bad, being married to me, would it? I'm not your peasant girl, but I'm not that bad." She sits down next to him on the edge of his bed, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"No, it wouldn't be bad. But I can't guarantee that I'll be able to give you all of me."

"I know, Chaol. I overheard at the inn when you talked with Finley. I won't lie, it hurts to know that you feel that way. But I don't want to force you to love me."

"I could, with time, maybe..."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Chaol. I couldn't bear having that hope and then it being ripped away."

She leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, her touch gentle, but almost desperate. Chaol pulls her into a hug, disregarding the twinging in his shoulder, dragging her down onto the bed, where they laid, murmuring quietly to each other about their new future.

~~~

Dinner was served by Finley the next day, a creamy wild rice soup that Corryne had had made especially for Chaol's return to the ranch. He sat quietly next to Mirela, his aunt and the Captain across from them, and Varric at the head of the table. Chaol wondered who had decided to have Finley help with the evening meal; it was torture having her here as well as Mirela at his side, who kept giving him side glances every so often, as if to reaffirm that the shocking news from yesterday was actually real. Once the soup was served, Chaol busied himself with spooning it into his mouth so he wouldn't have to talk to anyone.

After a few bites of her own, Mirela blanched, turning a sickly pale shade, one hand over her stomach, the other covering her mouth. She gagged, and Corryne rose to her feet and moved over to comfort the woman.

"Please... you'll have to excuse me..." With that, Mirela launched herself from her chair and dashed out of the dining room, Chaol following behind her. He found her outside, vomiting the contents of her stomach into a hedge next to the house. Once finished, Chaol held her gently, rubbing her back, one hand on the back of her head.

"I didn't mean to ruin dinner, I'm so sorry, Chaol." Her body became limp in his arms. Alarmed, Chaol carried her inside and to her bed.

~~~

The next few days Mirela remained in a weakened state, waking only to swallow a few sips of broth before throwing it back up.

"We have to push the ceremony back, Uncle. She's in no state to go through with this right now."

"No, it needs to be done in two days time. I need part of her dowry and we won't get that until it is finished. There's a stallion-"

Chaol didn't stay to listen to him finish. He left the house, barreling through the growing dusk, heading toward the barn.

[Jen]

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[Jen]

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[Jen]

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[Alessaina]

He was too late. Two days after the race, Chaol visited the cottage during one of his breaks from preparing for the wedding ceremony. The door was wedged shut from the inside and he had to kick it down in order to enter, thinking that Finley was locking everyone out. He was wrong. The cottage was desolate and Finley was nowhere inside. Chaol ran to the barn, but she wasn't there either.

After a thorough search of the entire ranch, he realized that she was truly gone. Falling to his knees, Chaol buried his face in his hands. He would never get the chance to prove to Finley that he was sorry, that she was so much more than she believed she was. The shock of her disappearance bothered him. He knew he should be focused on Mirela now, but he couldn't help but worry about where Finley was, if she was alright, or if she had run off yet.

Mirela found him several hours later still in the same position in the barn. Kneeling next to him, she wrapped her arms around him, embracing him.

"I'm so sorry, Chaol." Chaol looked up at Mirela, a blank expression on his face. "When you didn't come back, I.. I thought you had run off since the ceremony is tomorrow..."

"I wouldn't do that to you, Mirela."

"We don't have to live here. We can go somewhere far away. Gynk? Across the mountains? We could start over."

"You'd really do that?"

"It's not an entirely selfless suggestion, Chaol. This place holds too many memories for you, and I want you for myself. If we stay here, you'll still be tied to her."

"I have enough money to get us anywhere and build us a house. We can leave after the dinner tomorrow."

Mirela smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"Your family will hate us, you know that, right, Chaol?"

"I don't care."

~~~

The ceremony passed without great fanfare. It was small and led by a priest of Zhambra, with only Chaol's parents, aunt and uncle, and Mirela's father there as witness. Afterward, a dinner was held at the house, with a bard playing and singing, delicious food, and more people there than at the ceremony. Chaol pasted a joyful look onto his face, for his parents' sake.

No one knew except for Mirela and her father that they had spent all of the previous night packing up their most of their belongings and supplies onto their horses so they could slip away in the night while the house still dined and danced.

He danced and talked, Mirela never leaving his side. They excused themselves from the party early to change into travel clothing, moving quickly and quietly, dressing in Chaol's room. Chaol couldn't help but watch Mirela with the occasional sideways glance, that is, until she chucked a boot at him, laughing.

With a quick hug and goodbye kiss to her father, Mirela and Chaol departed the house through the servants' quarters, sneaking to the barn in the pitch black night. The horses stood waiting for them, saddled and packed, ready to go.

"Are you ready?" Chaol asked, helping Mirela mount before climbing atop Bast.

"Are you?"

[Jen]

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[Jen]

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[Jen]

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[Jen]

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