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You have gained Loyalty with

Summary:

A shallow dive into the fatebinder's tenuous relationships with her allies, from the perspectives of said allies. Featuring: Lantry, Verse, Barik, and a definitely-fully-reformed lawless fatebinder.

Chapter 1: Lantry

Chapter Text

"We'll have to get back to court." Rennfri said, batting charcoal off her blackened leather garb, "I'm guessing Tunon won't be too happy about us breaking from the Chorus like this."

'Us,' she said, as if the matter had involved so much as a discussion between traveling companions before her unceremonious betrayal. Lantry scrawled down her wording precisely, committing it to both record and memory.

"Before we go," He said, glancing cautiously up from the page, "It may be worthwhile for you to think carefully about what might become of the Silent Archive. That is, if your plans are to deliver it into the Adjudicator's hands - "

"Why would I do that?"

Lantry paused. It had become obvious, in their short time together, that the fatebinder had very little in common with her Archon. By all accounts, she'd have fared better as a member of the Chorus. That wasn't to say that she had disobeyed Kyros's laws. Not yet. But it was a near thing.

Hoarding forbidden knowledge was hardly as negotiable a charge as accepting a few bribes, or killing a few soldiers in the midst of civil war.

"Well. Then, ah, do you intend to keep the Archive for yourself?" His quill-hand stilled. A dark blot of cerulean ink bled onto the page.

"Nah, I'm not much of a reader. You hold onto it for now."

She tossed the scroll case - tossed! As if it were scrap paper rather than a priceless relic - in the sage's direction, and in the single moment of panic that followed, he dropped both quill and parchment to cradle the Archive in his hands. It did not surprise him, not exactly, that one of the Overlord's servants would show such callous disrespect for an artifact of the Tiers. It did, however, surprise him that this particularly poor vassal had suddenly adopted the sort of flippant disregard he might have expected from a Disfavored soldier.

"Is that wise, my lord binder?" The actual Disfavored soldier spoke at last, shifting in a way that made his iron carapace creak. There had certainly been no 'my lords' before they betrayed the Chorus, Lantry noted, and would have further noted down if his hands weren't otherwise occupied.

Rennfri glanced askance at Lantry, meeting his eyes in a purposeful way. He could not be sure of her meaning.

"'Course it is. If we announce we've got the archive in the middle of Tunon's court, it might force his hand. I'll send a missive ahead of us to ask what's to be done with it."

Lantry's heart sunk. So many centuries of knowledge, either to be sentenced to destruction or consigned to Kyros's eyes and ears alone. For the remainder of Terratus - his former colleagues included - either fate would yield the same result.

But Rennfri met his eyes again and, almost imperceptibly, gave a small shake of her head. Barik had already begun to move forward, his line of sight limited to the path ahead. Lantry stowed the Archive carefully away.

They never did pen that missive, after all. Barik safely assumed that they had. 

Chapter 2: Verse

Chapter Text

"I don't care who you think you are. Mess with my head again, and we'll find out if you can sing your way safely down from the top of my spire."

 

 

Verse perked up a bit, grinning at the threat even as Lantry busied himself with his quill and parchment and Eb's face filled with unspoken dread. That was more like it - in her best moments, Tunon's pup was vicious and uncompromising. She wouldn't show her teeth in response to every minor slight but, when she did, it was in the best ways: in greeting treachery with an fierce left hook, or in lifting a liar by his collar to extract the truth. In shoving a rebel captain, without remorse, from the edge of her mountain spire. Their fatebinder did not deal in idle threats. 

Sirin glared at first, but quickly shrugged off her rage, lifting her melodic voice without a hint of magical undertone to assure Rennfri that she was, of course, no actual threat.

Verse wondered if anyone worth anything in the Chorus had actually fallen for that. Maybe so, or the littlest Archon would have dropped her innocent act by now and just relied on song. She smoothed down the feathers in her hair, frowning. It was a shame, after all these years, to have to tolerate another chirping bird.

"Verse, do you mind coming along for this one?"

The fatebinder phrased it like a question - strange, seeing as they were all, in some way, sworn to her. Nonetheless, she'd take respect when she could get it.

"Sure thing. Where are we headed?"

"Back to the Court. I'm thinking it might look better for us if I can show Tunon at least one Chorus member who isn't out for my blood."

Rennfri grinned. Verse laughed. She didn't have the sort of gooey, sentimental weakness for her comrades in the Scarlet Chorus that bound Barik to the Disfavored. If they were strong enough to live, they'd live. But for now, she'd sooner bet on the fatebinder.

It occurred to Verse, about halfway to the Bastard City, that she might have been the only one in their little party not to owe Rennfri anything. Barik was all but indentured after the stunt he'd pulled striking the binder in Vendrian's Well. Lantry's was a life debt, if the old sage even had anywhere else to go. And Eb was the last one at any liberty to leave. She wasn't so sure about Sirin. But, when they'd scooped her out of Lethian's Crossing, it hadn't sounded all that amicable. 

It didn't make much of a difference, anyway. She didn't plan on going anywhere.

Chapter 3: Barik

Chapter Text

"Shit."

Rennfri's soft swear was drowned out by the infant's cries. The howling winds seemed vastly more distant now, a problem only in the most abstract sense compared to what lay ahead. Amelia - what had been Amelia was sprawled facedown, blood pooling around her on the stones. The fatebinder wiped her blades clean and sheathed them deftly, gaze fixed on the open door of the nursery.

"Lantry, would you go quiet her down?"

The sage flinched. Barik's armor creaked horrendously.

"I- I must protest, I am not - "

"Not that." She had yet to cringe at violence, as far as Barik had seen. Some dark part of him wondered why this would be any different. "I mean, hold her for a minute. Calm her down. I can't even hear myself think - I need to think."

Tension drained visibly out of the sage and he nodded, comprehending. He tread softly into the infant's room and hunched over her crib, murmuring something soothing on his way. Rennfri sighed and took a step back from the nearest cooling pool of blood. She turned around. She strode directly out of the throne room.

Barik was not sure what else to do but follow her.

He found her pacing just beyond the threshold - which was more than he'd expected, if he were being honest with himself. It was just as likely that she would betray them just as she had the Chorus, or make to run, or perhaps slink back to the shadows for assistance. Would Bleden Mark have hesitated this way? He sincerely doubts it.

"Fuck, Barik, do you really think staring at me is going to help?"

"You know as well as I that we cannot leave without... resolving this, fatebinder."

"I'm not leaving. I'm thinking. There has to be a better way - there's got to be something else we can do. I'm not somebody who does this."

Aren't you, he wondered, but did not dare to speak aloud.

"I'm not the type of person - listen, even before Tunon, it wasn't babies, okay? I wasn't on trial for killing babies, I'm not a monster." She continued to spin further into indecision, each word only digging her a deeper pit. Barik wasn't sure what to offer her; even if he could fit a word in edgewise, he doubted that one would help.

"Do you want me to do it?" Rennfri stopped abruptly, turning halfway in place to face Barik in anticipation of his answer.

"I - She is the Great General's last heir."

"And she's the only way to end this edict."

His armor creaked.

"I only asked that you bring me to Sentinel Stand, and - "

"And you wanted to end it, that's what you said. We both did. You wanted the last Regent dead."

Barik ground his teeth. Those words didn't have the same connotation now, as the fatebinder well knew. He would never have wished death on a daughter of the Disfavored, southern-born or no.

"Straydus Herodin is dead."

"Yes, he is." Rennfri tapped the leather-bound hilt of a blade, glancing first at her boots and then up to meet Barik's eyes again.

"Forget it." She said softly, suddenly sheepish. "Forget I said anything, alright? I can't put this on you, I've done enough to you already."

His first instinct was wholehearted agreement. It was enough, surely, that she had bound his sword to her over some petty legal trick. She didn't need to hoist her moral panic on him as well. But Barik could not help but notice that she did not remotely meet his eyes. The fatebinder - no, Stormcaller - looked only at his armor while she spoke, staring down the twisted metal sealed over his chest.

"I'm sorry," She said. He could not recall any other time when those words had passed her lips. "I'm sorry. I started this - I'll end it."

She strode past Barik again with grim purpose in her step.

"Lantry, Sirin - just get out of here, alright? You don't have to see this."