#but i kinda like it
Lady Bloom ❀
The infamous Bloody Banquet. cw poisoning, restraints, gagging. 600 words.
Everything happened in slow motion.
The cup slipped from Nanamo’s grasp as she clutched at her throat, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled to breathe. This was something her axe couldn’t defend against, even had she been permitted to carry it; all her antidotes were safely stowed in her pack, far away in her room where they could do no good. She hadn’t been expecting to need either in the depths of the sultana’s own chambers.
Nanamo tipped sideways and crumpled to the ground; Eyn’ara moved a second too late to catch her, feeling like her limbs were mired in quicksand.
Fuck.FUCK. Her brain felt slow too, struggling to comprehend the scene before her. Vitals. Check for vitals. She dug her shaking fingers into the side of Nanamo’s neck, unsure if they were even in the right spot. Somewhere far away she heard the chamber door open and she barked orders over her shoulder without looking to see who it was.
“Get Y’shtola. Or Alphinaud. They’re healers, they’ll be able to—”
“Bind her.”
The cold voice, incongruous to her panicked mind, permeated slowly enough that she offered no resistance as rough hands grabbed her and pulled her away from the Sultana’s body. As her wrists were manacled behind her she stared into the face of Teledji Adeledji, nearly at her eye height as she sat on the floor.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, chains rattling as she processed her new predicament. “The Sultana needs help, get a healer!”
“Her Grace the Sultana is dead!” Teledji exclaimed, as though he hadn’t heard her. “Poison in her wine, and the “hero” of the realm caught, literally, red handed!” His act was spoiled by the glee he failed to keep from his voice.
“What are you talking about?” All Eyn’ara could think of was Nanamo. “I was checking for vitals, you numbskull, there are two highly competent healers at the banquet right now, go call them while there’s still time!”
Teledji jabbed a dramatic finger in her direction. “Spare us your denials! I see no other suspects, and the room has but the one entrance!”
Eyn’ara ignored her chains for the moment as she gaped at the lalafell in disbelief. “Why are you wasting time accusing me? I didn’t pour the wine, that was—” A breath later, the wheels in her brain started turning again. “Wait. How are you so sure it was poison? How do you know she’s dead if you haven’t even examined her?” She took in the presence of the lady in waiting behind the group of Brass Blades, and Teledji’s impeccable timing. “Oh. Oh, I see.”
Teledji’s smile was insufferably smug. “I’m certain I have no idea what you mean. Gag her,” he ordered. “I’ll not have her spreading her lies to the public.” One of the Blades stepped forward and used the red cloth of his bandana, forcing it between her teeth and over her tongue as she glared daggers at him, tying it behind her head tightly enough it pulled at her hair and cut into the corners of her mouth.
Eyn’ara let it happen, running furiously through her options. This reeked of a plot; there was no way they’d feel secure in treating the Warrior of Light like this otherwise and think they’d get away with it. Tempting as it was to break herself free and damn the consequences, there was a quieter voice in her head that sounded like Alphinaud counselling patience. If they’d truly killed the Sultana and wanted to frame her for it, fighting her way out of the chamber would not do her any favours. Right now, her best option seemed to be going along with what they wanted until she could figure out what was going on and who was in on it.
Teledji let out a contented sigh. “That’s better. I hereby accuse you of regicide! Men, take this viper to the Fragrant Chamber! Let the masses see the true face of their hero.”
