Lena thought she could smell him before she saw him stumbling down the path, his limbs shaking violently with the effort it took to press his body onward. From far away, he seemed to be wearing some sort of ornate ensemble, ribbons of crimson trailing across his trunk and limbs in incredibly intricate patterns. Lena stared at him for a long moment as he approached their tent, and all at once a sense of understanding overcame her when she realized that the messenger only wore his own blood. She screamed, piercingly, impossibly long without taking a breath, and Jaime's head snapped up to follow Lena's gaze.
"Oh... Oh, Gods. Lena. Inside the tent, now." He took in an uneasy breath, as though he might vomit then. "Lena. Lena, go. I'll... …show more content…
Her wrists were bound together and tied to a tent pole. A silhouette of a man stood dark and tall beyond the canvas, and he paced the length of the tent wall.
"Who are you?" A cough escaped with Lena's words, her throat rough from screaming, or vomiting, or both. It stung to speak, but she tried anyway. A humorless laugh was the only reply, and she saw a hand reach out to touch the fabric that separated them. Though he couldn't touch her, Lena shuddered.
"You thought that you could outwit me, outrun me... But now you're mine." Though Lena had never heard the voice before, at once she knew who her captor was. Her knees threatened to give out as the tent flap opened, and the man with the golden hair and the charming smile strode into the tent and faced her at last. He still smelled like smoke.
She bit the inside of her cheek so hard that it drew blood, but she wouldn't scream. He reached out with a hand to touch her cheek, and she turned her head quickly to bite that too. Her teeth sank deep into his skin, and drew it back, grinning. He shook it a few times, examining the damage for a moment before slapping her suddenly across the face.
"I so hoped you would be spirited... All the more fun to break