amycus silences lambs (unplacable) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2009-05-22 19:25:00 |
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Amycus would be lying if he said that this wasn't a whole lot of laughs. Sure, he could've done without the bruises, and he definitely could've done without losing his scarf back in the scuffle that had played out (this was May, but this was also Scotland, and it was right bludgering cold at night), and there were a whole lot of creature comforts that even the camp at Gairloch could provide -- but when all was said and done, it was downright hilarious the way things were playing out. Flipping the grin that threatened to burst across his features upside down into a grimace was a skill he strongly believed he should receive some sort of award for.
"Amelia." The sound of his own voice startled him; caught in his little daydream, he'd forgotten that he'd twisted onto his side for something other than a stretch of his cramping back. "Amelia," he whispered again. "You all right?"
Though she'd grown used to spending most of her time afraid for some reason or other, Amelia had encountered few situations where her fear was felt as valid as it did now. Even if she had her doubts about how important her contributions to the war were, she didn't want to die -- after the battle they'd fought at Hogwarts, the possibility seemed even more likely. Of course, even though she'd had the morbid misfortune of having imagined the hypothetical circumstances surrounding her death on more than one occasion, she'd never imagined that it would happen during something quite as mundane as strawberry picking.
"Not really," she said in a whisper, glancing over at Amycus. Though she was, for the most part, physically all right at the moment, she doubted that either of them would be for long. "Where are we?"
"Dunno." He shrugged with a single jerk of his shoulders. "Did you get a good look at them? That was Greyback, for sure."
Fenrir ambled through the camp towards the tent that now held their 'guests'... or guest and prisoner to be precise... with Tabitha at his side. He hadn't really paid much attention to the whys and wherefores of the exact reasons behind this, just enough to know what the army's part was to be. To be honest, he didn't really care. He was sure having a spy amongst that Albion lot was useful to someone but since none of the information ever seemed to end up with him, it didn't much impact on him. He was more concerned with getting himself and his army in a position where they didn't have to hide anymore. He was pretty sure he had a good idea but he could worry about that later.
He nodded to the two werewolves on guard duty outside the tent and shoved the tent flap open, donning his best menacing look as they walked in. Might as well make the show a good one and it wasn't like they had to hold back with the woman.
"Well, well, two little fluffy bunnies," he said with a very offencive smirk. "Hunting has been good." He looked between the two of them then looked over at Tabitha. "Which one do you think will be the easiest to claw a few answers out of - the man or the woman?"
Ah, now this was her idea of fun. Tabitha didn't even have to pretend as she followed Fenrir into the tent, grinning; she was happy to have a friend here, even if he was tied up right now and pretending to be their prisoner. Maybe she could come back later and drag him out to 'interrogate' him on her own and have a couple drinks, or hunt some lamb again. She smiled at Fenrir, pretending to look thoughtful. "Hmmm. I dunno," she said, eyeing both Amycus and Amelia. "Maybe we outta start with the woman, yeah? If she cries enough maybe he'll crack, too. You know how these types usually are -- noble and all that."
As the two werewolves talked, Amelia's stomach sank and her fear grew exponentially -- they were going to claw answers out of her? What answers could she possibly give them? She only had one piece of information to guard and knowing the implications of what giving that up meant, she was prepared to guard it with her life -- she had been prepared for that when she'd accepted the responsibility. She tried to struggle against the binds holding her in place, but even before she'd exerted much energy, she knew that it was pointless. Not only could she not move, but even free, a werewolf could outrun her before she'd gotten anywhere near safety.
"You won't get anything out of me," she said in a voice much stronger than she felt.
"That's an idea," Fenrir said, prodding viciously at Amelia with one booted foot. "Though the reverse could work equally well. You know how weak these witches are, not like werewolf women. We'd probably only need to cut him once and she'll be blubbering and crying and spilling everything we need. Lucky for him, eh?"
He prodded at Amycus with the same apparent viciousness though in this case appearances were rather deceiving. He then pretended to look like he'd had the epiphany of all epiphanies, the glint in his eye telling Tabitha not to laugh at his probably terrible acting performance.
"I know! Let's make them decide." He prodded them both in turn. "Hey, you two, which one of you do we work over?"
Being a rough son of a bitch himself, the feral appearance of both werewolves did nothing to inspire any of the feelings of disgust, if not fear, that Amycus needed to draw on in order to keep the farce going. He focused on other things: how his arms were cramping, how he was cold, how annoying it was that he couldn't have done this by himself and thus saved himself from having to pretend that this was scaring the shite out of him.
Indeed, it was annoyance that had him growling as Fenrir prodded at him, and the desire to go outside for some air and space that made him kick out and roughly say, "Leave her the fuck alone. She's the bleeding cook, what is she going to say besides a nice brownie recipe? Bugger off."
Fenrir gave an amused growl at Amycus' defiant response. "Spirited, isn't he? Whaddya reckon, Tabitha? You think he's made a decision. Right noble of him, isn't it? To sacrifice himself to keep the cook safe. I think that nobility should be honoured."
He bent over and grabbed Amycus by the collar, hauling him upright and holding him tight. "So, noble man, you get to be first. I'd do this here but it's much more fun to drag you off and leave your little friend wondering what's happening to you, what savagery we're inflicting on you."
He headed for the door, half-dragging Amycus with him out of the tent and down the makeshift street to his own tent. Once they were inside, he cut Amycus' bonds and grinned, "Well, that was fun."
Instantly the shouts of protests that he'd started up as he was manhandled through the campsite were reconfigured into something of a breathless chortle. Amycus shook his arms out, inserting another florid word or two to describe how much he didn't enjoy how his muscles spasmed after such prolonged, enforced inaction, but even the discomfort couldn't do away with the fact that this? was downright hilarious.
"I'll make it more fun for you," he said, grinning back at the giant of a man. He swiped the palm of his hand across his forehead, then up, pushing straggling locks of hair away from his eyes. "Gotta make it look real when I go back, y'know? So smack me around a bit at some point." And then, in the same breath: "So what do you lot eat around here, anyway?"
"Sure," Fenrir said easily. He'd never knock back the chance to beat someone up, even an ally. He then grinned, baring his sharpened teeth. "We eat people," he said blandly before waiting a beat and giving a rough laugh. "Nah, I think there's a cow or two we've been working our way through the last day or so." He walked over to the entrance and grabbed the first werewolf who wandered past. "Food. Enough for two."
The werewolf nodded and scurried off. Fenrir ducked back into the tent and scratched his head as he looked at Amycus. "What about the woman? She likely to actually know anything worth dragging out of her? And I assume you want to take her back at the end of this?"
Amycus made the appropriate 'ugh' sound, suddenly very happy for the all the layers he insisted on wearing, thinking his sturdy figure suitably disguised from any werewolves that were looking for a human dish of not-so-lean pickings. Still, there was no disguising the grin that tugged at the corner of his lips, which only stretched into a wider smile at the thought of sustenance.
"Anything worth dragging out of?" Amycus snorted a bit, then worried at his lower lip, feeling the constraints of the fidelius already beginning to lock his jaw. Finally: "We all do, innit? And yes please, I'd like to come back a hero!"
"Pity," Fenrir said, meaning that but not overly surprised that wasn't going to get to kill her. He wouldn't mind giving that lot a proverbial bloody nose and what better way than killing one of their own. "Hey, there is one thing you could tell me. Blonde woman. About so high." He heasured a distance of about five and half feet. "Bit of an ice queen on the battlefield. Any ideas who she might be?"
There was a rattling outside the tent and he strode over and yanked the tent flap open to reveal the werewolf he'd sent off standing outside balancing a laden tray rather awkwardly. "I'll take that," Fenrir said, grabbing the tray before the contents could end up on the ground then growling at the werewolf until he scurried away. He dumped the tray down on the table and waved a hand at it. "Dig in."
Amycus nodded in reply to Fenrir's question, but it was only when he'd gotten his hands and teeth around a hunk of meat did he think to formulate an answer. "Idinkeyeno--" he swallowed, rolled his shoulder back with a sigh of relief as the joint popped. "I think I know," he repeated. "Plenty of ideas. Also got a Fidelius gagging me, so I can't name names, but I'm pretty sure I have an inkling."
And then, in the same breath: "Anything to drink around here?"
******
Back inside, Amelia was in a state of panic -- she'd much rather they have done something to her and left him alone. He'd saved her life before and the thought of him taking the brunt of the werewolves' aggression while she was tied up, helpless to do anything to put a stop to it. She tugged against her binds again, as if doing that, however futile, would make her feel more as though she were doing something to try to interfere. "Leave him alone!" she said to the remaining werewolf, glaring with as much hatred as she could muster in light of the fear she felt. "He hasn't done anything to you!"
Tabitha had planned on just following the pair out of the tent, but when the woman started to protest, she turned her attentions back to Amelia and smiled. "If you want us to leave him alone, sweetie, will you cooperate with us and tell us everything we want to know?" She crouched down in front of Amelia so that they were eye-level and reached out to roughly grab her chin, claws pressing sharply against Amelia's cheeks to force her to look at her. "Or am I going to have to claw the answers out of you -- and then him?"
Though she was shaking at the werewolf's touch, she swallowed back what weakness she could and tried to free her jaw from Tabitha's grip, twisting her head from side to side as she worked her wrists against the ropes. As if having her personal space invaded wasn't bad enough, it was a werewolf and she was already terrified. But she struggled not to let it show, reasoning with what little capability she had left, that it was that reaction they would prefer and she wasn't about to give them that satisfaction. "We don't even know what answer's you're looking for," she said from between clenched teeth.
"The location of your hideout," Tabitha said, squeezing her grip on Amelia's face tighter. "The names of everyone hiding with you. What your next plans are. Oh! Maybe even where your families are, just for the hell of it." She released Amelia's jaw, sitting back to watch her. "Now. Let's start with an easy one first. I want names. And if you're a good girl and tell me everything, I won't hurt you. But, if you want to do this the hard way..." she trailed off, shrugging. "That's up to you, isn't it?"
Though she wanted no part of this interrogation, Amelia knew that she wasn't going to be able to evade the situation anytime soon, so she had to find a way to evade the question. "You already have the names -- there's a wanted list," she said, narrowing her eyes as though that should have been completely obvious. "As for the rest, I couldn't tell you that if I wanted to." Somehow she doubted that her answers would suffice, but even if she was lying, she wasn't going to tell her the truth no matter what she did to her.
"You expect me to believe you haven't got anyone else there?" In truth, Tabitha didn't even really remember all the names that were on the wanted lists, but she assumed it was likely they didn't know everyone hiding out with them. "You haven't got a choice. I don't care if you want to answer my questions or not -- you have to. And if you don't, I'm going to hurt you." As if to demonstrate her point, she grabbed Amelia's jaw again to hold her face still -- and she pressed one claw against her temple with her other hand, breaking through the skin until blood welled up from the puncture, and dragged her finger down slowly, cutting a thin line all the way down to her jaw. "Tell me what your group is planning to do next."
"I don't know!" she shouted, gasping at the pain of Tabitha's claw against her jawline. Her answer having been mostly arbitrary, Amelia barely paid attention to her question and instead focused on trying to get her chin out of the werewolf's grasp, which was, of course, useless since she was overpowered and even if she hadn't been, there was nowhere to go. The idea of dying to protect Gairloch wouldn't have been so bad if it were quick and relatively painless, but if she was going to be ripped to shreds by this woman's claws, she wasn't so sure that she was strong enough to go through all of it. She'd beg for death before telling her whatever it was she wanted to know, though.
"What a pity." Tabitha's voice came out in a snarl, and she used her claw to gouge another cut into Amelia's cheek like a tally mark, from below her eye down to her jaw once again. "Every time you don't give me the answer I wanna hear, I'm gonna give you another pretty mark." She pressed the nail of her thumb below Amelia's eye again, next to the previous cut. "Now, how about you start cooperating? I think I want to know where your family lives next."
"My family is dead," Amelia said, snapping as she continued to pull against Tabitha's grip. Her breaths were coming sharp and panicked and even as she tried to keep her voice leveled so as not to betray just how terrified she was, her trembling and the tears welling in her eyes were likely more than enough to give it away. At the thought of her family, her eyes finally welled over and fat, salty droplets carved paths down her cheeks and dissolved into the open scratches on her cheek, causing her to first scream and then grind her teeth in pain. "Leave us alone!"
"That's a shame. But, also doesn't tell me where they are." She was grasping at straws with this one, she knew, but Tabitha didn't care. She tugged Amelia's head back sharpy, trying to urge her to stop struggling so damn much, and she deftly swept another claw down Amelia's cheek. "You're only making this harder on yourself, you know. But, I still have just one more question -- I want to know where your hideout is."
Amelia gasped as Tabitha pulled her hair, immediately feeling the soreness coiling in her neck muscles whens he let go, but another scratch distracted her almost immediately and she let out a pathetic whimper. She could hardly manage the composure to answer the werewolf's questions with the sobs she was trying to hold in constricting her throat, so she sat open-mouthed for a moment, trying to speak with little success. "I can't tell you," she said finally. "I already told you I couldn't if I wanted to."
Another question unanswered, another gash on Amelia's face -- Tabitha didn't even bother scolding her this time, slicing a claw down her cheek and then, finally, she let go of Amelia and stood up, taking a step back. "Well, I suggest you start thinking about the questions I asked you, and reconsider giving me the answers I want. Tomorrow, I'm going to ask you all the questions again, and if you still don't answer me I'm going to start biting. Sleep well!" she smiled, and with that, Tabitha turned away from her and exited the tent to join Fenrir and Amycus.
******
Fenrir grumbled under his breath at the news about the Fidelius and grabbed some food for himself. "I think I've got some of those Wanted posters around here somewhere," he said after a moment's thought. "You can't name names but can you point someone out?" He didn't really understand how the Fidelius worked but surely it couldn't stop you from pointing at something.
He grinned at the request for a drink then got up and rummaged around in one of the trunks at the side of the tent. He pulled out a full bottle of Firewhiskey and thumped it down on the table. He rummaged around a little more and pulled out a crumpled and slightly scrunched bunch of parchment, a little tattered and stained around the edges. He tossed it on the table as well. "I think that's them."
"That's us." Reaching for the bottle, Amycus cast the small, water-worn stack of posters a disinterested look before he turned his attention back to the immediate task at hand, that of opening the bottle and getting a good, long swill of the stuff. Only after the Firewhisky had stung its way down his throat did he really consider the posters, drying his lips with the back of a filthy hand as he pulled the bundle closer and thumbed through the individual sheets of parchment.
"Mhm, mhm." There was Rufus, there was Amelia, there was himself. The Bottoms. Elle. "Mhm, yeah," he said after giving his own wanted poster another look. "Yeah, fucking spell says I can't divulge who is loyal to the camp. But look at 'em yourself, yeah? Us blokes, obviously none of us is the one you mean."
Fenrir scowled as he flipped through the poster, discarding all the ones of men. He also flicked away the ones of non-blonde women, leaving Alice Longbottom and Finella Abercrombie as the main two. He scowled down at them, trying to remember the face of the woman he'd faced.
"Fuck," he snarled. "Can't remember her fucking face. I can remember she looked pretty pissed but I took a fuck of a beating that day and the actual face is gone." He gave Amycus an irritated look. "I couldn't give a shit who's loyal to the camp. I just want to know who's the one who had a go at me. She's not bragging about then? Anyone around there have a beef against werewolves? That's not going to trip the fucking Fidelius, is it?"
And now Amycus really did laugh, a wheezy series of giggles escaping him as he lowered the bottle from his mouth so that the mirthful shake of his shoulders would not cause him to spill the Firewhisky. "HA HA HA -- oh, Merlin's saggy balls," he gasped, "all of us have a beef against you! Ha ha ha, thanks, thanks. I really needed that..." Another chortle.
Anger flared inside Fenrir and he lashed out in much the same way as he would have with any of his wolves, smacking Amycus around the side of his head then grabbing him by the front of his robes. He bared his sharpened teeth with a low growl then belted Amycus up the side of the head with his free hand. "I want that bitch," he snarled. "I want her dead. I want to rip out her heart with my bare hands and I want to eat it in front of her so it's the last thing she sees before she dies. Now I'm making a big assumption that you actually have more of a brain that the hags in my army. Which one of those bitches is the one? Can you find out?"
He gave Amycus a sharp, violent shake then dropped him back in his chair again.
The full-blown laughter died as soon as that first strike landed, but between grunts of protest there continued several slurry snickers. As his backside hit the chair, sending pain shooting up his backbone, Amycus gasped for air, watching Fenrir with a look of mixed wariness and (crazily enough) amusement as he pushed his hair from his face.
"I'd go with the liver," he muttered, glancing around for the Firewhisky. When his gaze landed on it, he finally lost all traces of his smile -- the bottle had been knocked over, sending the liquid sloshing every which way. Fucking fuck of a fucker, he thought. "She'd last longer. Anyway. I can find out."
"Good," Fenrir growled as he stalked over to one of the trunks again and pulled out another bottle of whiskey. He took a good long drink out of it before slamming it down on the table and brushing the other one off onto the floor. Good housekeeping wasn't one of his better skills.
He glared down at the posters for a moment then swept them up and dumped on top of one of the trunks. He slouched down into one of the other seats and ripped a leg off the chicken that had been brought and chewed on it for a while as he brought his temper under control.
A long moment, filled with the sound of chewing, passed before Amycus asked the question that had been scratching away at the back of his mind for a good long while now.
"So what d'you think of my sister, then?"
Fenrir blinked at the question, a bit surprised by it and wondering why the hell Amycus cared what he thought of Alecto. Wasn't like he was Inner Circle or any of that bullshit.
"I like her," he said with a shrug as he took another swig from the bottle. "She's good in a fight, likes a drink and she's fun. We've gone drinking and brawling together a few times."
Amycus made an indistinct sound. "Fair enough. Let's just keep it at that, yeah? Though, I dunno, I figure she'd bust both our balls for having this conversation."
Fenrir just shrugged. He wasn't offended by the suggestion he'd want more from Alecto and certainly he'd take it if it was ever offered but Alecto had one major thing against her in his eyes - she wasn't a werewolf. "Yeah, she would," he said with a shrug. "But that'd be kind of fun too."
"Big old alpha like you?" replied Amycus through a mouthful of chicken. "Sure, I s'pose you've got plenty of balls to bust, innit?" He swallowed and swiped his hand across his mouth. "So's that all or is there, dunno, dessert?"
Fenrir leaned back in the chair and stretched his legs out, his flash of anger all but gone. "Hey, I like a woman who stands up for herself, especially one who's got a pair of brass balls of her own... even if they originally belonged to someone else." He'd always thought Alecto would a handful in bed and he'd bet good money he'd end up with as many bruises as he dished out. Which sounded like a whole fuckload of fun to him. He snorted. "Dunno. One of the girls might have something. I don't have much of a sweet tooth though."
"That's a shame." Another hearty mouthful, and then, his appetite satisfied (for now), he pushed the tray away and reached for Fenrir's bottle of Firewhiskey. He took in a greedy gulp. "Ah," he sighed, smacking his lips. "That hits the spot. Right, so." The bottle was pushed away. "You want to fucking hit me, then, or what?"
Fenrir grinned wildly, a feral glint suddenly appearing in his eyes. "Music to my ears," he said with a growl in his voice as he sprang to his feet, all his apparent indolence gone. "Don't mind if I do." He moved around the table with animal grace, grabbing Amycus and pulling him just in time to meet his fist.
The things I do for these people came the thought -- and then it was dashed from his mind as Fenrir's fist made solid contact with his face.
Well, he wasn't Alecto's little brother for nothing. She could brawl? Well, so could he, and shoved his own fist into Fenrir's stomach.
Fenrir grunted when Amycus' fist impacted with his stomach and a feral grin appeared on his face. He'd always liked a fight over just beating the crap out of someone passive. He fought the urge to go after Amycus with his teeth and instead kicked the other man's legs out from underneath him, forcing him to the ground and lashing out with his fists.
All the training he'd been subjected to under Gumboil's watchful eye drained from him at this attack. He was tired, he was sick of playing the friendly hitwizard -- he wanted to fucking fight. And Amycus' fights always involved a fair amount of cheating and below-the-belt blows that the Ministry people made a big deal of officially frowning at. Well, fuck his training.
As he hit the floor, he obeyed his first instinct: to curl his leg up into his chest, and as Fenrir bore into him, pounding with his fists, kick out with a heavily booted foot aimed at an area that even Fenrir fucking Greyback would find nauseatingly sensitive.
To say Fenrir wasn't expecting the kick to the nuts was an understatement and for a moment he curled up with pain before his temper flared and a vicious snarl broke free. He forgot what he was meant to be doing and even why he was doing it and launched himself at Amycus, teeth and claws bared as he attacked.
OH SHIT. That was the thought that ricocheted around Amycus' mind as he felt what could only have been fucking claws shred cleanly through his sleeve. Again he brought his leg up -- but he was crashing into full panic mode now, because this was no sodding joke, and there wasn't much he could besides lash out again with his foot and hope to Merlin that would somehow save him.
Having finished with Amelia for the day, Tabitha made her way through the camp to find Fenrir and Amycus -- which, as it turned out, was quite easy, drawn to the sounds of a scuffle. When she found them, however, it looked to her that things were proceeding beyond just a little scuffle. Men. "Stop -- break it up!" she growled, and Tabitha lunged toward them, attempting to squeeze herself between the pair to push them away from each other, the majority of her attention focused on Fenrir as she grabbed for his shoulders to shove him.
Fenrir barely felt the kicks from Amycus, though he probably would the next day. Instead he continued to slash, punch and attempt to bite the man the was fighting with. It wasn't until he heard Tabtha's growl and felt he pulling at him that a bit of sense flooded back into his mind, overcoming the anger enough for him to remember what he was actually supposed to be doing. He lashed out one last time at Amycus' face with his fist then rolled away and onto his feet. He was breathing heavily and growling deep in his chest as he glared at both Amycus and Tabitha.
Once Fenrir had backed off, Tabitha continued to hold her position standing in between the two. "I think that's enough. We ain't supposed to be killing each other, alright? I'm done with the girl, and he looks roughed up plenty for today. Let's call it a night before someone takes a head off, yeah?"
Amycus spat out a mouthful of blood, curling an arm around his head as he rolled onto his side. Tabitha's voice was barely discernible against the ringing in his ears; it took him a while to actually process what was being said, and longer still to finally push himself up so that he was kneeling (and swaying every slightly), fingers digging into the ground beneath to steady him. "Okay."
Fenrir growled again then shook his head, trying to get the anger under control. He glared down at Amycus for a moment then stalked over to the table. He grabbed the bottle of Firewhiskey that had somehow managed to remain upright throughout all of that and took a long swig, letting the alcohol burn its way down his throat. "Yeah, whatever," he said harshly, hesitating for a moment before holding the bottle out to Amycus. It was about all the apology the other man was going to get for Fenrir's slight loss of control.
With a grunt, Amycus staggered up to his feet, jerking his head in a nod that was all the apology he was prepared to give. For all that it stung his bashed lips and burned all the way down, the Firewhiskey was welcome, and he took several long hauls of it before returning the bottle to Fenrir and nodding at Tabitha. "Call it a night, then."
Giving Fenrir his space, Tabitha turned to Amycus and approached him. "Come on, let's get you tied back up and into the tent." She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the prisoner tent before either of them could protest (or decide they weren't quite done fighting yet). Still some distance away, she fetched some rope and moved around to behind Amycus. "Hands behind your back."
"This sodding sucks," he muttered thickly. But appearances had to be upheld, and although he only too willing to bitch, Amycus nevertheless crossed his wrists over the small of his back. "Could do with a cold beer now or something," he continued, almost monologuing now.
"Well, hopefully it won't be for too long. And I'll see what I can get for you tomorrow," she offered, wrapping the rope around Amycus' wrists to tie them together in a loose knot. "All set. Probably best if you don't brawl with Fenrir again tomorrow in case he's still hacked off at you, so I'll see you then, yeah?" Hand on his shoulder, Tabitha guided him the rest of the way to the tent.