(( 1 Kingsway, 35 Dragon, Afternoon, Cauthrien ))
Mara paced in her cell. Back and forth. Back and forth. She could still feel the sting of ropes on her wrist. The glares of guards, the smug looks on their faces when they brought her in to Fort Drakon. A murderer - that’s what they’d called her. Caught running from the scene. They’d said a witness confirmed her identity. She’d replayed the night over and over again in her head a thousand times and she still couldn’t remember anyone seeing her.
Anyone except Rabbit. He knew she was there. He was the only one that knew where she would be that night. The witness was the one that had called the guards. She knew that much. It had to have been Rabbit. No one else knew. No one else was supposed to know. At first she’d hoped he’d come to her rescue and explain why she’d been there that evening, but Rabbit was Rabbit. She should’ve known he would turn around and stab her in the back one day. That’s what he did to everyone once they’d ceased to be useful to him. Apparently her time had come, and, Rabbit being Rabbit, he had to make it the flashiest, most painful betrayal possible. He always did have a flair for the dramatic.
The sound of the bars sliding open drew Mara’s attention from her incessant pacing. She paused to see a guard step in, posture a little lower than normal. The guard behind him had a hand hovered over the hilt of her blade. Mara raised her brows. She knew better than to put up a fight now. Only a guilty person would make a scene where almost nobody would see. It wouldn’t help her case. As she let the guard tie her wrists and lead her out, she ran over every which way she could get out of this again and again in her head.
She’d anticipated being taken before the Arl - a Bann, really any lordling or lady who deemed it worth their time to hear her case. Apparently whatever case she had was already decided. She blinked as she was lead out into the sunlight, the silhouette of the gallows drawing her gaze. A crowd had gathered. Of course they would. It wasn’t every day someone was hanged, and who wouldn’t want to see a murderer hang for her crime?
Mara’s stomach twisted in a tight knot. She fought back the urge to vomit as she was led through the crowd, her steps accompanied by shouts and slurs slung her way. How the Maker ever let some of those words dirty the mouths of the people of Thedas Mara would never understand. It only made her stomach tighten even more.
They reached the steps as the shouts began to crescendo. Heart pounding, Mara’s eyes darted pack and forth as she searched for any last way to get herself out of this. If the Maker had any pity, He’d make this all stop. She mumbled a quick prayer before digging her heels into the ground and pulling back as hard as she could on the ropes.
“I didn’t do it!” she shouted. Lungs afire, throat burning from the sheer volume. She kept going, hoping, willing this whole disaster to stop. “I’m innocent! I was set up! You’ve got the wrong person!”
She kept shouting, kept pulling and struggling as the guards fought to get her up the stairs and to the noose that dangled simple and threatening before her. Survive. That was all that mattered. That was all that ever mattered. Now or never, she knew this was her moment to fight for it, and, Maker, she was giving it all she had, except the noose loomed ever closer and her heart wouldn’t stop pounding and she couldn’t stop screaming.
Suddenly the world was turned around. Sky in front of her, not above. Strange. That wasn’t right. A heartbeat later and she felt herself hit. Her ankle burned, and it was all rigid and soft around her at the same time. Shaking her head, she realized she’d landed in the crowd beside the gallows. A blink later and she was back on her feet. No. Wait. She crumpled in on herself. Maker, she remembered the last time she’d felt her ankle so on fire and no. No. She couldn’t have that right now. She tried to ignore the weight of it all settling in on her. No outrunning anyone now. No point in not trying, though. With a tight grimace she pulled herself back up and tried to push her way through the crowd. One way or another, she wasn’t going back up to that noose.
Mara paced in her cell. Back and forth. Back and forth. She could still feel the sting of ropes on her wrist. The glares of guards, the smug looks on their faces when they brought her in to Fort Drakon. A murderer - that’s what they’d called her. Caught running from the scene. They’d said a witness confirmed her identity. She’d replayed the night over and over again in her head a thousand times and she still couldn’t remember anyone seeing her.
Anyone except Rabbit. He knew she was there. He was the only one that knew where she would be that night. The witness was the one that had called the guards. She knew that much. It had to have been Rabbit. No one else knew. No one else was supposed to know. At first she’d hoped he’d come to her rescue and explain why she’d been there that evening, but Rabbit was Rabbit. She should’ve known he would turn around and stab her in the back one day. That’s what he did to everyone once they’d ceased to be useful to him. Apparently her time had come, and, Rabbit being Rabbit, he had to make it the flashiest, most painful betrayal possible. He always did have a flair for the dramatic.
The sound of the bars sliding open drew Mara’s attention from her incessant pacing. She paused to see a guard step in, posture a little lower than normal. The guard behind him had a hand hovered over the hilt of her blade. Mara raised her brows. She knew better than to put up a fight now. Only a guilty person would make a scene where almost nobody would see. It wouldn’t help her case. As she let the guard tie her wrists and lead her out, she ran over every which way she could get out of this again and again in her head.
She’d anticipated being taken before the Arl - a Bann, really any lordling or lady who deemed it worth their time to hear her case. Apparently whatever case she had was already decided. She blinked as she was lead out into the sunlight, the silhouette of the gallows drawing her gaze. A crowd had gathered. Of course they would. It wasn’t every day someone was hanged, and who wouldn’t want to see a murderer hang for her crime?
Mara’s stomach twisted in a tight knot. She fought back the urge to vomit as she was led through the crowd, her steps accompanied by shouts and slurs slung her way. How the Maker ever let some of those words dirty the mouths of the people of Thedas Mara would never understand. It only made her stomach tighten even more.
They reached the steps as the shouts began to crescendo. Heart pounding, Mara’s eyes darted pack and forth as she searched for any last way to get herself out of this. If the Maker had any pity, He’d make this all stop. She mumbled a quick prayer before digging her heels into the ground and pulling back as hard as she could on the ropes.
“I didn’t do it!” she shouted. Lungs afire, throat burning from the sheer volume. She kept going, hoping, willing this whole disaster to stop. “I’m innocent! I was set up! You’ve got the wrong person!”
She kept shouting, kept pulling and struggling as the guards fought to get her up the stairs and to the noose that dangled simple and threatening before her. Survive. That was all that mattered. That was all that ever mattered. Now or never, she knew this was her moment to fight for it, and, Maker, she was giving it all she had, except the noose loomed ever closer and her heart wouldn’t stop pounding and she couldn’t stop screaming.
Suddenly the world was turned around. Sky in front of her, not above. Strange. That wasn’t right. A heartbeat later and she felt herself hit. Her ankle burned, and it was all rigid and soft around her at the same time. Shaking her head, she realized she’d landed in the crowd beside the gallows. A blink later and she was back on her feet. No. Wait. She crumpled in on herself. Maker, she remembered the last time she’d felt her ankle so on fire and no. No. She couldn’t have that right now. She tried to ignore the weight of it all settling in on her. No outrunning anyone now. No point in not trying, though. With a tight grimace she pulled herself back up and tried to push her way through the crowd. One way or another, she wasn’t going back up to that noose.