Chapter Text
Dagian wakes up on the bedroom floor feeling truly awful. Despite the plush rug underneath him, he could still feel a pressure bruise forming on his hip. The cuts on his face are stinging and when he opens his eyes - eye- half his vision is gone. Athanasius hadn't seen fit to heal him from his punishment yet, likely hoping the lingering pain and threat of permanency might discourage Dagian from doing it again… if only he could be sure what "it" is.
It was not the pain that woke Dagian but voices. Athanasius does not invite guests upstairs frequently and certainly not when Dagian is there. Dagian sits up, throwing a glance around Athanasius' dark and empty room. Dagian's aching back cries out for the bed but if he bleeds on the pillowcase without permission, Athanasius is sure to make him bleed more. Instead of slinking into the bed like he desperately desires to, Dagian scoots across the floor, off the rug, and into the corner. He presses a pointed ear to the wall to try and hear what is happening on the other side.
There are three distinct voices; one is high, bright, and feminine, another is deep and masculine, and the third is somewhere in the middle. None of them are Athanasius. And they are all talking quietly enough that it's clear they aren't supposed to be there. He pities the foolish robbers that broke in thinking Athanasius Mor is a simple duke. At least the worst Dagian would do is kill them.
Dagian startles at the sound of something jiggling in the bedroom door's lock, shrinking further back into the shadowed corner. The door swings open smoothly, the lights from the hallway illuminating the subdued blacks and grays of Athanasius' bedroom and glinting off the golden accents on the furniture. The door swings inwards, blocking the intruders from view. Dagian presses himself even tighter into the corner, the wounds on his back stinging as he makes contact with the wall. He pulls his knees up to hide his bare chest, hooves flat on the floor, pale, hairless arms wrapped around his furry shins and tail wrapped around himself, the spade crushed in his hand.
"This looks fancy enough to be the Duke's bedroom." the voice in the middle says. The voice leans masculine, now that Dagian could hear it clearly. The tall, thin owner of the voice steps into the room and Dagian's eye widens.
A Harbinger. Somehow walking completely silent on hooves. He is pale, with black hair cut into a shaggy mullet and thick blue curling ram horns on the sides of his head. He is dressed all in black, except for a dark blue scarf decorated with silver thread pulled up over his mouth and nose. Burn scars stretch down his face and onto his bare shoulders and upper arms. He strides through the room, blue eyes glowing in the dark, making a beeline for the bed side tables without glancing Dagian's way, his blue tail, which ends in a tuft of fur rather than a spade, held high.
"What are you doing?" The deeper voice hisses from out in the hallway. A voice that tickles Dagian's brain with a vague sense of familiarity.
Without breaking his stride, the blue Harbinger responds in a low voice, "fuckers like this always keep the juicy shit in their nightstands."
There is a quiet clink of armor that sounds right to Dagian's ears but the deep voiced man does not speak again, keeping Dagian from being able to place his voice.
Dagian briefly considers making a noise and alerting the thieves to his presence, at least one of them is a Horned Harbinger which means they are unlikely to hold biases against him for his horns. But still they are thieves; low class, dangerous thugs. Despite the innate magical abilities of a Harbinger the pale man still has at least three knives on his belt and a crossbow strapped to his back. So Dagian chooses to continue watching in silence as the man kneels in front of the further nightstand and begin to fiddle with its lock.
Finally the bright and feminine voice chimes in with a far too loud stage whisper, "I'll look for hidden compartments!"
The blue Harbinger winces at her volume and the hidden man shushes her harshly.
The sound of hooves on hard wood shocks Dagian. Another Harbinger? Do these poor fools know about Athanasius' proclivities?
In contrast to the first Harbinger, the girl is short, curvy, and with dark brown skin. Her horns are smaller, little orange crescent moons in front of a backdrop of curly brown hair tied in large puffs. She turns his direction, orange skirt twirling around her backwards bending knees due to her too enthusiastic movements. She raises a hand, fire sparking to life on her fingertips, illuminating her face, her orange-yellow eyes glowing. A lightning scar bisects her face, but even then she's quite cute. A pity Athanasius would soon break her.
She flings the flame into the air. It splits into three pieces to chase away the shadows from the dark corners of the room… including Dagian's dark corner.
The girl's mouth falls open when she sees him and she lets out an aborted shriek, stumbling back a few steps. The two men jump to her aid. The third thief barrels into the room with a loud clang of armor that Dagian winces at. It was the loudest sound he's heard since Athanasius stole the ability to scream from him.
The appearance of the third intruder does make Dagian question his assumptions. In contrast to the shabby, threadbare attire of his Harbinger companions the human man, with wavy brown hair, green eyes, and sun-kissed skin, is wearing the gleaming green and gold armor of a paladin of Mercedes. A paladin with two Harbingers is such an incongruous sight that Dagian might have laughed if he wasn't so focused on protecting his head and vital organs from the paladin's sword and the roguish Harbinger's crossbow.
"Guys, wait!" The girl cries out, "she's scared."
Dagian squeezes his legs in tighter, squishing down his bare breasts.
"She's a Harbinger." The human says with disgust, like he isn't speaking to a Harbinger.
To both their credit, she stands her ground and glares at him and he guiltily sheaths his sword.
The blue Harbinger keeps his crossbow trained on Dagian even as the girl steps closer. She drops into a crouch a mere foot and a half away, her tail automatically extending out to help her balance. The spade is wider and rounder than Dagian's, shaped almost like a heart. She shuffles a little bit to the side and blocks the crossbow, helping Dagian relax minutely. At least until she moves her hand and Dagian once more thoroughly hides his injured face in his arms.
He hears rather than sees her hand abruptly drop to her thighs. "no, no, no, please don't be scared," she whispers hurriedly, her voice gentle, soft, and low. "I won't hurt you, I was just trying to pull one of the lights down to see you better."
Dagian shifts his head within the cocoon of his arms to look at her face with his remaining eye, twisted as it is with pity. Even with that condescending expression and the unseemly scar on her face she is pretty; the type of warm, soft body he would've lured to his bed with golden trinkets and false promises of being a duchess one day, back when he could call himself a duke. "We can take you out of here, if you'd like that?"
Dagian huffs out a laugh, the sound coming out strangled and pained and almost like a whine. The girl shuffles forward a little more, holding her hand out, palm up. "It's alright, we'll get you out of here. No more pain."
"Ams." The blue Harbinger's voice is harsh and sudden, surprising Dagian into knocking the back of his head against the wall. He approaches, coming into view on her left, his crossbow replaced with a dagger in each hand. He points one at Dagian, his stormy blue eyes not wavering from Dagian's perfectly still hands. "It could be a trap."
The girl, 'Ams', also does not take her eyes off Dagian, but not out of wariness like her companion. She tilts her head to the side, "no, I don't think it is," she says with a small shake of her head.
She sounds so certain it makes Dagian wish he could trap her. Could summon Athanasius here to kill the intruders. If he could hand them over to him maybe Athanasius would be happy and heal his face. Maybe he'd even let him sleep in the bed. He tightens his grip on his tail's spade, long fingernails bending against his palm.
Continuing her soft offerings, she says, "we'll protect you. I promise." She pushes her hand forward into Dagian's space, her fingertips brushing the back of one of his hands.
Gods she's so warm. Athanasius is cold as the grave and keeps his home similarly icy. Before he could remember the painful consequences his actions would have, Dagian finds his hand placed in hers. She beams at him, long canine teeth that sit too far forward in her mouth poking through plump maroon lips. She stands and takes a large step backwards, hauling him to his hooves.
Dagian has not stood on his own two hooves in almost a year. Not since his first and last attempt to run, when Athanasius cut his heel and healed it wrong, leaving no external mark of the thorough maiming. The second weight is on his right hoof he stumbles and starts to fall, reaching out to catch himself on the wall, only for the girl to catch him and redirect him to fall into her.
His horns, which curl inward towards each other almost making a perfect circle, knock against her teeth. She grunts in pain but doesn't push him away. If anything, she pulls him closer, pressing his face into her chest. "Can you walk?" she whispers into his hair. He shakes his head, smearing his blood across her frilly white shirt. "We need to get her out of here. Theo, can you carry her?"
Apparently 'Theo' is the human since he is the one who answers. "I could, but what about Kroisch?"
At the sound of his name Dagian flinches and tries to peek around the girl at the paladin but she holds him fast. "This is a person, Theo. She's hurt, she's scared, and she needs our help. We have to help her, your revenge can wait."
Revenge? Dagian tries again to get a peek at Theo and this time he succeeds and when his gaze meets green eyes the itch of familiarity in the back of his skull is finally scratched. Sir Theofrid of Kroisch's Temple to Mercedes. He petitioned Dagian for soldiers to defend the Temple the day before Dagian walked right into Athanasius' hands. When Dagian refused, he, red-faced, declared that Dagian would pay for his dereliction of duty…
Dagian would really like Athanasius to show up and kill these three now.
"I'm already a year late and only Eruditio knows how many steps behind." Theofrid raises his voice with righteous indignation, "and if we leave here now Mor will up his protections and we might never be able to get back in here. Azur, you know how to be rational, tell her."
Azur is an apt name for the blue Harbinger, if a bit on the nose. In a flat tone, he says, "it will be very difficult to get back in here."
"But!" 'Ams' exclaims, far too loudly, tail lashing, and Dagian jolts, gripping her shirt and holding his breath for a second before letting it out when Athanasius doesn't appear.
"But we should still prioritize getting out of here," he continues.
"You've been pointing a knife at the girl this whole time!" Theofrid barks at him, volume climbing to a dangerous level.
"I'm still rational."
If Athanasius appears while Dagian is hugging this girl he will be very angry. Dagian accidentally mutters that last bit out loud.
'Ams' hugs him tighter, kissing his likely filthy hair, "we won't let him hurt you anymore, I swear." Dagian slumps weightlessly into her.
"You owe us, Theo." Azur says. He's moved closer to Theofrid by the sound of his voice. For a moment there is silence. Dagian strains to try and listen beyond the room but all he hears is 'Ams' rabbit-quick heartbeat.
"Fine." With a clank of armor, Dagian is pulled out of the girl's arms and slung over a broad shoulder, hard edges of armor digging into his soft belly.
He shouldn't let them take him out of this room but Azur hasn't put his knives away, Athanasius is nowhere to be seen, and he really doesn't want to become a zombie. So Dagian does the next best thing and simply goes limp.
They move quickly rather than quietly through the hall. Guest bedroom doors are ajar down the direction they jog, away from the stairs and instead towards a window that overlooks the garden. None of the expensive trinkets on the walls are disturbed, dispelling any lingering thoughts or hopes that these three are simple thieves. That is the last thought he gets to have before they are sailing through the window.
Athanasius' voice drifts into Dagian's mind as the bricks whip by on his way to the ground, a gentle whisper so loud his nose starts to bleed. "Where do you think you're going, my little ruby?"