Maryse Trotter || Faerie (ofmoonlight) wrote in landvik_logs, @ 2013-04-30 20:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | !faerie, jaimie, lachlan, maryse |
Who: Lachlan Ramsay (resplendently), Jaimie Trotter (olim_et_futurus), Maryse Trotter (ofmoonlight)
When: April 23, 2013 (the rescue)
Where: North Vinter (the woods)
What: Maryse's two favorite men rescue her.
Warnings: Nah.
Rating: PG
As soon as the location was discovered, and the search and rescue teams given the orders to spring into action, Lachlan was on the move. Not a glance was spared at anyone else on his ‘team’, not even Jaimie’s presence received any acknowledgment other than a quick nod indicating which path they should take. That they were met with opposition wasn’t surprising to the faerie; he’d been prepared for just such an occurrence with his gun at the ready; though what did give him pause was how overzealous the kidnappers seemed. Most of them were sloppy combatants, more intent on causing whatever damage they could than on simply taking them out as quickly as possible, which was making Lachlans’ job slightly easier. Skilled with his pistol, he dispassionately aimed for vital areas that he knew would wound without killing for the most part, but if one or two happened to die due to his accuracy he wasn’t exactly lamenting their loss. No, he was there for one reason and one reason alone -- to do his duty and protect the princess -- and neither nothing nor no one would get in his way. Around him, he could hear people groaning and screaming in varying degrees of pain, but he was so fixated on finding Maryse that even when the sound was from someone he recognized he didn’t slow down. They could handle themselves, otherwise they shouldn’t have volunteered. Drawing closer to a well-guarded area, he sensed that the people they were there to save were behind the locked door. Pausing just long enough to holster his gun and draw his sword, he rushed forward, a killing intent visible in his eyes. Jaimie hadn’t cared about anyone else on the team, on any of the teams. He didn’t know these people. His mind was lost in the thoughts and imagery of what the kidnappers could be doing to his sister. Anger boiled so completely through his veins that he gave no pause when rushing toward the kidnappers as they all entered the building. Foot catching the face of a kidnapper, he practically flew off the man’s shoulder to the next one. The sound of gunshots were dull to his ears as the racing of his heart overtook his senses. The fae didn’t even remember he had a gun of his own to use. Instead he grabbed something sharp from one of the men who went down- with a fight- and took out his anger on the next kidnapper he saw. His knife movements clean in their initial cut, he continued to brutally attack even after the man was down. Seeing Lachlan move forward toward the doors, Jaimie fell in beside him. Bruises already appearing under the bloodsplatter on his face. Stopping meant realizing that the man who initially had the knife had gotten the better of him. When Lachlan rushed forward, Jaimie didn’t hesitate to follow suit. His quick movements getting him around several, before a man stepped up to fight. She was waiting. It was the only thing she could do. She did try crying, but only one or two tear showed up and continuously scrunching her face was starting to hurt. Focusing on the pain shooting from her right forearm was an option but not a viable one; as they say, thinking about it only made it worse. Thinking about the whole predicament only made it worse. So, Maryse tried thinking about her clue, the random plant she grabbed on her way to this place. Did it matter? Did the captors get rid of the boy’s body? Did they find the plant as they took the body away? Would anyone notice a body? Would anyone find the plant in his mouth? Would she make it? Was this the last smell, the last sight, the last sound, the last touch, the last place she would remember? She didn’t want to think about all of that anymore. She didn’t want to think about anything anymore, but her brain kept bouncing from recent events to her parents and that unwanted fiancé of hers to Jaimie and his return to the many people she met at Landvik to Lachlan and the conversations she had with him to– There was some noise on the other side of the door. Maryse tried to brace herself. Were they coming for her or was she lucky this time around? She closed her eyes, waiting to feel that large hand squeeze her arm and pull. He was close. It was not only obvious from the way their opponents seemed to be fighting more aggressively and had better training, but also he could just tell. He wondered if she could tell help was on its’ way or if she was still in a state of hopelessness. Just the thought of her being scared for her life spurred him onward. Maryse was a strong woman, this Lachlan knew better than most. Though he had been her guard there had been plenty of times that the only thing that stopped her from being capable of saving herself was the lack of appropriate strength and training. Once she recovered from this ordeal, he would take it upon himself to start teaching her some of the martial arts he’d heard were more effective for smaller people like herself. He moved swiftly, easily dispatching anyone who dared meet his charge. Had he been a more emotional sort he might have smirked in triumph at how easy this was turning out to be, but there was always some unexpected obstacle the overconfident ones forgot about which was why he was remaining alert. Had he not been so wary he might have missed the sight of the snub-nose revolver being pulled from a large mans’ waistband. Instead, his natural inclination towards proceeding cautiously allowed him the time needed to twist enough that the bullet grazed his shoulder instead of the few centimeters to the left that could have incapacitated him. The stinging pain was ignored in favor of pulling his own gun once again and squeezing off two shots, his proximity to the door now enough for him to see just what kind of lock they had in place. Emotions overflowed in his brain. When it came to his sister, Jaimie was incapable of thinking straight. Relying on instincts over collected strategy, the first attack from the man blocking him whift through the air. The steel baton in his hand came back toward Jaimie’s face only to miss again. Stepping into the man instead of retreating, Jaimie grabbed his wrist to try and get the weapon away. Each turn of his body to give him more strength against the man was countered. The man pulled Jaimie out of his lock and flipped him over his shoulder. Mid-air the world slowed. The stray bullet that grazed Lachlan ripped through Jaimie’s side causing him to collapse to the ground where he would have landed gracefully. The world spun, his mind focusing due to the shock speeding through his body. He started to take on his Faerie appearance, his eyes brightening and even his bruises looking paler in appearance. His opponent started to bring the baton down across Jaimie’s head, but the moment they made eye contact he stopped. Dazed for a few moments, suggestions of who were the bad guys were implanted into his mind. He wanted to protect Jaimie not attack him. Who would want to attack a Prince such as him? It was a last ditch effort, taking all the concentration he could muster. The pain in his side sharpened and seared through his nerves as they started to realize what happened. The man helped Jaimie to his feet and then went after the man who had shot him. Breathing came hard, but he wasn’t about to let it stop him. He couldn’t give up because he needed his sister to be safe and needed her to see that he came for her too. The pressure on her arm didn’t come. In fact, when she opened her eyes, no one was there except for those also held captive. The noise outside sounded closer, and there was a loud bang, like a gunshot, and it caused the muscles in her already rattled body to tense. Who were they killing this time? Maryse looked around at everyone. Some looked back at her and she wondered who had that same question rolling around in their mind. She wanted to say something. Before this, she was very talkative, not afraid to talk a stranger’s ear off. Now, all she felt like doing was shrugging, and it wasn’t just because her mouth was dry but because she was sure any kind of words were going to scratch it raw. Maryse did shrug, but her eyes didn’t stay to see if anyone noticed. Instead, they moved back to the door. Out of the corner of his eye, Lachlan could see Jaimie go down, and while the urge to stop and check on him flared up he chose to keep his eye on the prize. Jaimie would probably react badly if he stepped in and attempted to help him -- Faerie nobility had a ridiculous sense of pride -- and besides, Lachlan’s job was to guard Maryse, which is what he was here to do. Ruthlessly aiming at a man standing nearby, he emptied his clip into the man without a second thought, already walking over to rifle through his pockets for the keys he assumed the man was carrying. Once he had a grip on those, he took a moment to reload his gun, glancing over his shoulder to see who else from the rescue party was still with him before straightening up and unlocking the door. Taking a few steps back, Lachlan reached out for the doorknob, giving it just enough of a turn to loosen it before dropping his hand and kicking the door open. He wasn’t sure if anyone other than the captives were inside, but if so they now knew with a certainty that their days were numbered. Pushing forward, every step Jaimie took shot pain up his side. The bullet had went clean through and blood gushed from the wound. Holding his breath in, everything seemed to become very clear as the sounds of the fights around them fell away. The blood in his body wasn’t sure which wounds it should attend to, the ones that the blood vessels had been broken or the gunshot; it wanted to be everywhere at once leaving little to filter through his brain as he staggered forward. His man he had glamored took out several of his buddies who tried to target Jaimie again. The fight pulling away from his as he didn’t bother to notice. Finally pulling out his gun, he stepped in beside Lachlan once more- maybe a few paces behind him. His gun sweeping the room, but he wouldn’t have noticed any bad guys if they were standing in front of him. In his mind, Jaimie kept on repeating ‘I must save Maryse. I must save Maryse..’ Every now and again the darker side of his brain that loved to talk when he was wounded informed him that he was a failure, that if he hadn’t left for love then the only sister he ever cared about wouldn’t have been put in this situation. Stepping inside the room, he leaned against the wall next to the door. The rational part of her knew the person busting down the door wouldn’t be one of the captors. It just wasn’t logical to allow everyone a way out, even if there were guards on the other side. Still, Maryse pushed herself back, pinning her arms between her back and the wall. The pain in her right arm shot all the way up to her shoulder, distracting her from the person who ran inside. When another set of footsteps sounded loudly in her ears, she finally looked up. And there they were: Lachlan, her protector and friend, and Jaimie, her brother and the most important person in her life. A relieved smile tugged at her lips. They got the clue. The horrible feeling of touching someone newly dead was rewarded with a rescue of those not yet killed. Then she looked closer at the blood on their clothes. She was sure she looked just as bad with a cut that split her bottom lip, matted hair from being unwashed for days, blood on her dirty clothes, and other various cuts and bruises she knew where littering her face, but Maryse couldn’t help but thinking they were the ones who were more worse for wear. While most her injuries would heal quickly enough, the blood she saw, especially on her brother, had her mind immediately heading toward death. She tried to say their names, her brother’s coming out first, but it came out as a soft croak, something she was sure they missed over the noise coming from outside the door. And they did scratch at her. Only it wasn’t her mouth but her throat. Upon first entering the room, although he caught sight of Maryse -- the frightened look on her face making his heart clench -- Lachlan followed procedure and went about making sure the area was secured. Once he was convinced that they were safe, he shoved his gun back into the waistband of his pants and made his way over to start freeing Maryse. Keeping his movements slow and steady, he withdrew a small knife to cut at the bindings on her hands. Part of him realized that Jaimie probably wanted to be the one to help his sister, so once he was done untying her he set about doing the same to the other people in the room. He worked efficiently, not trusting himself to stop out of concern that he’d do something improper. Thankfully, knowing Maryse was safer now was enough for him. Unlike Jaimie -- who he assumed would need medical attention when all was said and done -- Lachlan wasn’t nearly as hurt. In fact, the dull throbbing of the wound on his shoulder barely registered with him as anything more than a nuisance. If needs be, he could easily help carry anyone unable to walk out of the compound, though he could understand if his assistance was unwanted. Had he been among the kidnapped, he’d want to be able to walk out under his own power as opposed to having to rely upon someone else. Nobody wanted to be considered weak, least of all anyone who was used to being looked upon as one of the strong. Hearing Maryse attempt to speak was all it took for his resolve to start crumbling, but instead of getting melancholy Lachlan felt the anger flare up once again. He stomped it down, moving to stand off to the side so as not to be in the way of Jaimie and Maryse’s reunion. The happiness and worry from his sister allowed an awkward smile to appear on his lips. He didn’t care about the others kidnapped, not when he saw his sister. The scratches and bruises appearing on his face meant nothing, nor the pain. He watched Lachlan free her bindings and for that moment knew even with his sister’s crush on the guard, she was in good hands. Lachlan was a far better fighter than he was and calm under pressure. If Jaimie ever went back to the Kingdom to become King, he would place the guard in a higher position. The only problem would be the arranged marriages of both Jaimie and Maryse which made his mind stop his line of thought. Coming back from his thoughts, he found his body was stumbling over to his sister once Lachlan had moved away. Jaimie’s hand held tight to his side, keeping pressure on the wound. He didn’t have enough thought that the other end of the wound at his back would need pressure also. “I’m sorry, Maryse.... Did they hurt you? Does Lachlan need to kill anyone specific?” He gave a short laugh, the movement of his stomach hurting him. Like any brat noble, he was willing to offer of someone else’s service to achieve a goal- and he knew he wouldn’t be killing anyone with the wound on his side. Maryse didn’t realize how stiff her shoulders were and how difficult it was to move her arms. When her eyes looked upon her arm, she noticed the red marks around her wrists and the way the bruise on her right arm looked like a large hand, most likely a combination of the size of the man’s hands and how swollen her arm was. She placed her left hand on the ground and tried to to the same with her right, but she couldn’t even bare to move her fingers. With a sharp intake of breath and a wince, she pulled her hands back. For a moment, she stayed sitting on the floor, listening to her brother rather than trying to figure out how she was going to get on her feet. “Just a little,” she said in a half whisper. It was half a lie. Of course, she was lucky. Her injuries could have been worse, but she had to give them credit for the nightmares she was sure to have for some time. She could feel those were going to hurt her worse than her cuts. “Are you sure they aren’t already dead?” Maryse looked between Jaimie and Lachlan. “What about you two?” Her brother was starting to look worse with each passing second. The way he held his side pushed her to try to stand up once more. This time, she smacked her left hand onto the wall and tried using what little strength she had left to push herself up. However, her legs didn’t have enough in them to get her fully upright and her hand started slipping. Maryse could feel herself falling the short distance to the floor. So much for being a graceful faerie. Lachlan hadn’t yet gotten a good look at the extent of Maryse’s injuries, but once he did there was no telling how he might react. A combination of shame that he failed in his duties combined with rage towards whoever had damaged his princess were both likely, though in what measures he couldn’t say. For now, while he remained ignorant of how hurt she truly was, he allowed a brief measure of calm to fill his head, thankful they they’d been able to save her and the others with minimal damage and no actual casualties. He would consider the mission a success, if it was his place to judge such things. He listened as she and Jaimie spoke, not trusting his own voice as of yet. The fact that she had sustained any wounds felt like a slap to his face, remembering that during their time back home he had done his job so well that she’d never sustained a mark to her beautiful skin, but things were different now. She was no longer his job, even though she always would be. Lachlan had been leaning against a nearby wall, keeping to himself for the most part, when he heard Maryse’s question. Raising his eyebrows slightly, he managed to spout off a gruff-sounding “I’m fine, but I’m not too sure about him.” in response, gesturing at the other male who he could tell needed medical assistance. Stepping away from the wall, he noticed Maryse starting to stand, her body shaking as her hand lost its purchase and she began to fall, Lachlan was in motion before he even realized he had acted. Dropping to one knee, his arms shot out to cradle her just before she hit the ground, a muttered curse falling from his lips. “Careful now, you’ve been sitting for days. Your muscles need time to adjust, love.” The endearment somehow managed to slip past his guard, but to his credit he kept his gaze mostly neutral. Jaimie looked over at Lachlan as he answered the question first. He wanted to say that he was fine also, but that part of his pride had to be stilled in the back of his mind since there was little doubt that Jaimie was not ok. Looking at his sister, he managed a shrug. He could still act that it didn’t hurt as much as it did. The whole shot had been him in the wrong place at the wrong time. “It doesn’t matter as long as you’re ok.” He moved back so Lachlan could help her. Eyebrows shot up at the name Lachlan called her. “Ha! I knew it!” Jaimie clamped his mouth shut once the words had spilled out. A smile did pull on his lips like the little brother he was being proven he was right in his argument. The sounds of fighting from the other room dying down slowly. The man he had glamoured rushed into the room and looked around, his eyes setting on Jaimie. The first few hard steps he made toward them made Jaimie worry his glamoring had stopped working. The man’s large hands grasping Jaimie’s shirt and pulling him up to his feet. Love. It was such a simple word and one she was sure was meant to be quickly forgotten judging by the look on Lachlan’s face. Maryse, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go so easily. She knew this wasn’t the time or place to dwell on it, but she didn’t hear words like that come out of Lachlan when speaking to her. She wanted it to mean something, maybe even everything. Looking up at him, her face still slightly stunned from being caught and from hearing the word, she tried to look past the almost emotionless face. Did she see something there or was she trying to project her own feelings onto him? She started thanking him for his great catch when her brother ruined the moment with his exclamation. Turning her head to look past Lachlan’s shoulders, she glared at her brother. Within the next second, her demeanor changed as movement came from the corner of her eyes. She thought it was someone else from Landvik coming to check on them, but when he came into view, Maryse realized it was one of the captures. He wasn’t one who actually touched her, but he was there when she was in a room alone, laughing and enjoying the interrogation and torture. “Jaimie!” she yelled, her voice coming out louder than she thought it could at this point in time. She pawed at Lachlan and moved her feet, trying to get up, but she knew it was fruitless. If her legs didn’t want to work a minute ago, they weren’t going to work now. Feeling helpless as the man pulled her brother up, she watched and waited for the coming violence. Regardless of how easily he could keep what he was feeling from reflecting in his face, it was impossible to keep it out of his eyes. Normally ice-blue in color, they sparkled with an unspoken emotion. At least, they had until they abruptly reverted back to their typical stoniness when Jaimie’s words reached his ears. Sharply glancing up at the younger man, Lachlan loosened his grip on Maryse while murmuring a soft apology for any rough handling that could’ve aggravated her injuries. He was loathe to let her go just yet, since he doubted her ability to stand on her own, but he also didn’t want to give Jaimie the impression he had any untoward ideas regarding Maryse. The change that came over the princess when she looked past him at her brother caught Lachlan’s attention as well, as did the frantic way Maryse began trying to get up. Without considering how the action could be interpreted, he lightly ran one hand over her hair, speaking quietly in an effort to calm her down. “Princess, please do not overexert yourself. I promise you that no harm will come to your brother,” he murmured, before raising his eyebrows at Jaimie. “Care to explain yourself so as not to further upset your sister?” The tone in Lachlan’s voice could almost be considered imperative, as it was more a command and less a question, but there was something inscrutable in his gaze that may or may not have been a subtle apology for his behavior. Try as he might, Lachlan was having extreme difficulty not letting his feelings shine through, a fact which bothered him endlessly. The aggression that Maryse waited for did not come as the man looked Jaimie over and promptly ripped his shirt to create a bandage to go around Jaimie’s waist where the bleeding was coming from. Jaimie looked back at his sister and Lachlan, seeing the worry on her face and lack of it on the guard’s. There was a rough smirk on his face followed by a few grimaces of pain. His glamoured friend did not know how to handle the wounded carefully. “I have a very focused ability...” he answered offhandedly. If they were back home he’d mention that Lachlan had no right to give him a command, but then they weren’t- and it was because of him so he couldn’t say that he missed the opportunity. The bandage tied tight that it allowed the pressure that was needed for him to be able to get out without losing much more blood than he already had. “I told you I’d be fine, sister... Now let’s get out of here Lover boy.” Jaimie couldn’t help it. Through the pain, drama and emotional rollercoaster that came from the entire event, being in his sister’s presence brought him back to the brat younger brother he was capable of being back home. “Do you need Collin here to help you or do you think you’ll be able to lean on Lachlan?” There was a brief moment in the panic where she realized how calm Lachlan was, how softly he was talking, how his hand felt on her head, and how much she wished he’d do that for the next month or more. But Maryse wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on it too long as she didn’t believe Lachlan. That was, until the man ripped Jaimie’s shirt and wrapped it around her brother’s abdomen. “Oh,” she said. “I see.” She turned her attention inward, recalling how she couldn’t decently glamour anyone. Yes, she was scared and in pain, but shouldn’t she have been better than that? She was never going to be as good as her brother, but shouldn’t she have some skills? Maryse tried to forget about all this, and it was easy thanks to her brother. “You can keep Collin. I’ll take Lachlan,” she said with a little bit of attitude. Turning her attention back to the one still holding her, she added, “If you don’t mind.” ’Lover boy?’ The look Lachlan shot at Jaimie was practically a threat in and of itself, passing over his face so quickly that it could have been a flicker of Jaimie’s imagination. Expression immediately softening as he heard Maryses’ answer, Lachlan chuckled quietly before maneuvering himself to his feet whilst still holding her, cradling her to his chest bridal-style. “As you wish, princess.” The words, though chosen specifically to evoke a certain movie that he’d grown fond of during his time in the human world, were also a lingering echo of all the things he wanted to say to her and never would. He’d already nearly outed himself once, despite being aware that she was promised to another and would never feel affection towards him the way he felt towards her, and that was enough. For now. “Perhaps it would be wise to have Collin,” he practically sneered the name, assuming Jaimies’ new thug was among those who manhandled Maryse, “scout on ahead since I’ve got my hands full.” ’With your sister,’ the imperceptible smirk on Lachlans’ face practically screamed. |