Chapter 25 | A Mysterious Night

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Hi Guys! 

I hope you are all doing well. The video above is the soundtrack I listened to the most while writing this Chapter and in particular for one part, (which I'm sure you'll be able to pick out as you read). 
I am slowly working towards the conclusion of this story, although I'm not super certain as to how I will wrap things up yet. A few of you have been super helpful lately with writers block suggestions and writing prompts and I want to thank you for that!! 

Certainly, this is becoming more difficult to write as it reaches its end, although I think it probably has something to do with me realizing how many plot holes/ flaws it has as I continue and half wishing I could just start all over again!

There are a couple of perspective changes throughout this chapter and I apologize for that! Some things are better written from a different perspective and hey, if it helps me spit the chapter out then I'm sure you wont complain too much ;) 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. 
Love always,

Daisy xox

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COBALT

I tapped my half empty stein on the bar rhythmically, half an ear listening to Nathaniel and Hobbson's conversation, with the other half of my mind swirling in turmoil.
My fist clenched a little tighter as I replayed the look on Circe's face over and over again in my mind. The hurt had been easy to read on her features. Hurt that I had put there.

I gritted my teeth. Jhaer was already causing unrest and she had barely been here one night. Even though Hobbson's welcome had been mostly an act for the benefit of keeping a close eye on her, still the way she had so readily accepted his good will had pissed me off. As if we would welcome her back so easily after her betrayal. For whatever reasons, betrayal was betrayal and if I was this conflicted about her sudden appearance then god only knew how Obsidian was dealing with it.

True, it wouldn't have been difficult for me to give Circe some back story, and even now as I thought over the circumstances surrounding her question, I should have realised something was off. It wasn't like her to ask such an intrusive question, and true she had tried to approach it casually, but there had been an uncertainty in her voice that wasn't normally there and her eyes had been too unwilling to meet my own.
Damn it!
I should have just told her. After my reaction, who knew what kind of conclusions she had drawn?
One assumption in particular came to mind and I swore again, this time aloud.

"Shit!"

"Woah there," Nathaniel laughed, clapping me on the back, "I know that can't be a reaction to anything that I've said at least."

"Sorry," I replied, dragging a hand over my face and finding my smile again, "I wasn't listening."

"It's okay," He shrugged. "It wasn't about anything important anyway. Do you want more beer? You're almost out."

I tried to smile again but it didn't really work. "Nah, I'm pretty tired, I might head to bed."
Circe might not be asleep yet, if I could find her maybe I could offer an explanation as an apology. I downed the rest of the beer and pushed my stool away from the bar.

"Suit your-self," Nathaniel said cheerfully, "Hey old man! Fancy another round?"

"Watch who you're calling 'old', boy," Hobbson grumbled in the background.

I turned away from the pair and it was then that something out the window caught my eye. A figure stood on the rooftop outside, silhouetted by the moon in the sky behind. Seemingly aware that it had been spotted, the figure turned and disappeared over the spine of the rooftop.

I threw a glance over my shoulder but my previous company was now engaged in conversation and paid me no mind as I slipped outside, shutting the door quietly behind me.
I made it up onto the rooftop with ease and sure enough he was there, crouched on the edge of the roof, his eyes searching the coast line.

"Did Jhaer come to talk to you?"

There was a grunt in reply.

"What did she want?"

He snorted. "Forgiveness," He spat the word out like it left a bad taste on his tongue.

I felt my heart clench uncomfortably. "And what did you say?"

He threw a careless glance over his shoulder, his golden eyes piercing me directly. "Idiot Brother. What do you think I said?" He turned back to look out upon the city, our vantage point providing us a spectacular view. "The woman killed half our crew on her way out the door; we haven't heard a hide nor hair from her since that day." He let out a small growl of annoyance. "Any crew member that commits that level of betrayal has no respect for their Captain and a crew that cannot respect their Captain are of no use to me."

I didn't reply although I was sure the relief was clear on my face. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You are a fool for thinking I would have given her any other kind of welcome."

"Well you can't blame me, after all, the two of you-"

"The two of us nothing," He interrupted swiftly, "she was never anything more to me than someone to share a bed with. And with your reputation, you're the last person who should be calling me out on that."

"Hey-" I began, outraged, only to catch the gleam in his eye as he shot a look my way, his lips quirked up into a smile. He was teasing.

I decided to let the subject drop and folded my arms across my chest as I dropped down to sit beside him on the roof tiles.

"What are you looking for?"

"I'm not sure yet," He said, his voice musing. His keen gaze was raking the coastline and I found myself looking in that direction automatically.

There was certainly a different air about my brother now, and it was only in times like these that I could see the clear distinction between who had been before and what he had now become.

My brother had always been a formidable enemy. The wrath he had unleashed upon those who stood against him was akin to a hurricane, a twisted whirlwind of terror, fuelled by hatred and loathing. He had been explosive, unpredictable and in some cases, downright unstable. He had looked down upon the world and everyone in it with an uncompromising eye, his decisions always cold and calculating, choices were made based only on what we would gain in profit.

All of that was still there, I could clearly see it in him. But before, he had worn his anger like a cloak of fire, it had swirled about his person, whipping out suddenly every now and then as though flaring in the wind, threatening to burn anyone who got too close.
Now the fire simmered deep within him, not as wild or unrefined as before, but still just as hot. He was sharper than before, more focused in his intensity. There was purpose behind every action now, behind each word he spoke, where before there had only been bitter hatred.
I wondered what was more deadly.

He straightened up slightly then, just a minuscule shift in his body, and I heard his breathing quicken. "Did you see that?"

"No," I said bemused, "As a normal human being, I struggle to see in the dark."

The look he sent me was a filthy one. There was the brother I knew and loved. "Don't jest," he said scathingly. "You know that you are far from a normal human being."
He picked up a piece of cracked tile and threw it in a random direction. My eyes automatically followed the object as it flew, tracking it through the night sky till it came in contact with another roof, half a mile away, clattering loudly as though it had landed right beside me.
"You're senses just take a bit of ... persuasion." My brother's grin was animalistic, his golden eyes gleaming. He had me there. "You can thank our Mother for that."

"Ah yes," I laughed without humor. "How could I forget our sweet Mother? Pity we didn't find out much about her during our trip to the Elven Kingdom, although I didn't really expect them to acknowledge our heritage under those conditions. Being part of the reason for a country's exile certainly puts a damper on any chance of a family reunion, doesn't it?"

Obsidian rolled his eyes at me. "You're bringing that up now, of all times?" He grabbed the front of my shirt and all but tossed me off the roof. "Come on, let's go."

The snow muffled my landing, my boots leaving deep prints behind me as I stepped back to glare in his direction. "That was uncalled for."

"Unlikely," His voice was affronted, his face haughty as he appeared at my side, "you deserve a sprained ankle at the least for putting that expression on her face."

I knew who he was referring to instantly and rubbing the back of my neck ruefully, I trailed after him as he strode off down the street. "You saw that huh? It was unintentional; I was on my way to apologise ..."

"What did she want to know?"

"She wanted to know how you two knew each other," I gave up the information without hesitation.

"What did you say?"

Now it was my turn to send a sharp look his way. "What do you think? I told her nothing of course, although I wasn't exactly tactful. Why do you think I was going to apologise? I probably made her worry more than was necessary-

"She doesn't have anything to worry about."

"Yes, yes, but she doesn't know that does she?"

"Her safety-"

"Idiot," I snapped, "I'm not talking about her safety."

He paused in his advance, ankle deep in the snow. Abruptly, he turned back to face me and I was surprised to see confusion on his face. He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, we both heard the sound of crunching snow. Someone was coming.

Stealthily, we slipped into a side alley way, scaling the slide of the wall on slinking up onto the roof as the unsuspecting person passed below. It seemed to just be an ordinary townsperson, a bag of goods clutched in one hand, their cloak held tightly with the other. In a moment, they had disappeared off down the street and it was then that Obsidian turned his attention back to me.

"What are you talking about then?" he hissed in annoyance.

"What are you talking about?" I snapped. "Surely you don't think that Circe came to me, asking questions about you because she was concerned for her safety."
He looked at me and I groaned in frustration as I realised that was exactly what he had been thinking.
"You're an idiot!" I growled, "You might be able to see in the dark but you can't even see what's right in front of your face! She's obviously jealous."

Now he really did look bewildered. "Jealous? Why would she be jealous?"

"Are you actually telling me you're that thick?" I asked incredulously. His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth, no doubt to utter some foul remark, but I continued talking over top of him. "Some mysterious woman shows up from your past, claims to know you, clearly has some kind of history with you that you stubbornly deny and won't tell her about, and you expect her not to feel at least a little bit jealous?"
He had paused in his half developed insult, and now his eyes were looking rather vacant as he tried to process my train of thought. I groaned and dragged a hand through my hair in frustration, trying to think of a way to phrase it so he would understand.

"Let me put it this way. If some man showed up and claimed to know Circe and she wouldn't tell you how, what would you do?"

I could see the shift in his mood almost immediately, his face becoming tighter and more expressionless with each word I spoke.

"Shit," He cussed, his head swinging around to look back the way we came. He then seemed to remember something and his expression grew even darker. "Shit. She walked in on us talking as well, that would have looked bad."

I sighed with relief that what I had been saying had finally gotten through, lying back on the tiles for a moment as he stewed on his own idiocy. "Glad you finally get where I'm going with- wait," Sitting back up I looked at him dubiously, unsure I had heard him correctly. "Did you just say she walked in on you? With Jhaer?"I scrambled forward to grip his shirt, shaking him roughly. "What were you doing?!"

He smacked my hand away, his irritation rising with every passing moment. "Nothing happened; she ambushed me into speaking alone. She asked for forgiveness and I told her to fuck off." He ran his hands through his hair, his eyes burning. "She's so damn persistent though! She just wouldn't leave, seemed like she had something else to say but then Circe arrived – invited her to the bathhouse." He looked sharply at me, "Does that seem like the way a jealous woman would react to you?"

"No," I mused, "no it doesn't" Invited her to the bathhouse? Well it was Circe after all. She never seemed to react in the way I expected.

"Jealous huh ...?"

My brother now seemed to be rather deep in thought. He rubbed his chin and ran his tongue over his teeth. The smirk I caught before he looked back at me suggested that I would rather not know what he was thinking.

"You're terrible," I hissed at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," He said curtly, but there was a gleam in his eyes that hadn't been there before and his previous moment of anger had dissipated.

He took off across the rooftops again before I had a chance to ready myself and I sighed, picking myself up off the tiles and proceeding to silently follow after him.

"Weren't we supposed to be tailing someone?" I asked when I finally caught up to him. The wind whistled in my ears as we leapt simultaneously across a rather large gap in the houses, his jump slightly higher and longer than my own. "With all the time it took to unravel your stupidity, they are probably long gone by now."

"Funny," He sneered, "and yes we are, but we won't have lost them. We need to make a quick detour anyway." He said mysteriously.

"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "And where might we be going?"

"You'll see soon enough."

*

Hobbson exited the bar feeling rather drunk. If he was quite honest with himself, he should have stopped drinking two steins ago, but the night was young and the alcohol soothed his qualms about their sudden visitor.
Jhaer's arrival had been unexpected to say the least, but he had pulled himself together and greeted the girl with familiarity, the only greeting he could ever give her if he wanted to find out why she was here.
To hear that Jack had sent her had been unexpected. Jack had still been on the ship when the whole business had gone down and Hobbson was surprised that Jack would be so willing to clue her in on their location. So either she had given a good enough reason that Jack had been convinced .... or she was lying.
And Hobbson had a pretty good idea of which of two options he was willing to bet on. Jack wasn't one to forgive and forget so easily, even if it involved pretty young women.
Hobbson chuckled.

Setting out for his room, he decided to sleep off the alcohol and deal with the problem in the morning. There wasn't anything too mischievous Jhaer could get up to right away, in fact, she had probably already gone to bed. Although, he thought to himself, he didn't remember ever asking someone to show her to a room.
A trickle of unease ran through his belly and he knew that it wasn't the alcohol disagreeing with him. Alcohol never disagreed with him.
He had all but convinced himself to push it aside and deal with it tomorrow when the patter of wet feet on wooden boards alerted him to the approaching figure that he was able to recognise almost instantly.

Her eyes saw him and then she ducked her head, trying to pass by him discreetly – the option to take another route already too late. He wasn't so inebriated however, that he couldn't reach out to catch her shoulder, jerking her to a standstill.

He wondered for a moment if she would snap at him, but after a moment she turned to look at him, a forced smile on her features.

"Hobbson, I didn't recognise you. I'm just going to bed-"

"Jhaer," he said pleasantly. "Funny you should say that, I was just thinking that no one had shown you to a room yet. Did you find someone to help you?"

Her face was smooth as she replied. "Circe, showed me to one earlier."

A good lie, Hobbson noted. Jhaer had been quick to pick up on the fact that if the Princess was involved, people would rarely question her actions. He nodded, accepting the lie and moved on to his next question.

"Ah I see, that's good. May I ask what you are doing out and about so late then? You're rather thinly dressed and in this weather it would be all too easy to catch a cold. Perhaps you've lost your way?"

She was clutching a towel he realised, his attention only drawn to it because his question had made her tighten her hold on the cloth. Her other arm was hidden under the dark bathrobe she wore, tucked away from the cold. A bead of water, (or was it sweat?) ran down her otherwise expressionless face and he watched her force another smile. "I just got out of the baths.

"Alone?" He asked sharply, noting the flicker of some emotion he couldn't decipher flash across her face. .

"No, I- I was with Circe. I was tired and decided to retire earlier."

He let her shoulder go and nodded. "Good to see you making friends already," he said nonchalantly. "I won't keep you in the cold anymore. Sleep well."

She nodded and in the blink of an eye she was gone, vanishing off around the side of the building.

Hobbson suddenly felt a lot more sober than he had two minutes ago. It was extremely rare to see the female assassin so shaken. In fact, Hobbson could probably count the amount of times he had on one hand. He looked at his hand thoughtfully and then down at the wooden boards beneath his feet.
She certainly had just left the bathhouse that much was true at least. Her hair had been wet, as had been the towel she clutched to her chest. Her skin had been slightly damp too, although that could have been sweat.
After all, it seemed she had left in a hurry, her feet had been bare – not a smart choice in all of this snow. Her footprints were still drying on the wooden decking, a trail leading away from him, from the direction she had come.

He crouched down to look at where she had stood for a moment while she spoke to him, her footprints merging together she had shifted her feet nervously from side to side. She had dripped a rather substantial puddle onto the floor and now he swiped a finger along the floorboard, lifting the appendage up into the moonlight.

A darker colour stained his finger, contrasting the paleness of his skin.
Blood.

Looking up, he felt his hearing sharpen, his eyes looking keenly ahead through the darkness. He saw nothing, but the trickle of water from the hot springs reached his ears accompanied by a sweet voice humming a enchanting tune that he could not place.

Keeping his wits about him, he advanced forward. The voice seemed to lead him back the way Jhaer had come, her wet footprints drying on the wooden planks beneath him as he walked.
Rounding a corner he gazed upon the ornamental courtyard that sat in front of the bath house. The garden was made of white stones and patterns had been raked into the pebbles, although the snow had obstructed most of the detail.
A path of large, flat, tiles led to the centre of the courtyard – to where a small raised pond was positioned and a cherry tree was

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