Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tauriel sat under a tree in Far Harad, pouring sand out of her shoes after she slipped in a pile of black silt on a river bank. It would be a while before she had to repair the worn leather soles again. She inspected them regardless, and wiped them clean with a spare bit of cloth. 

She put her shoes back on, bracing her feet against a moss-covered tree root for support. She knew she should wear the extra pair of shoes she had tucked in the bottom of her pack, instead. Common sense and experience made her wait. It wouldn't do her any good to have both sets in disrepair, with limited supplies. She had just returned from a trip with a merchant caravan a few days ago. She wasn't interested in going to the nearest outpost to trade so soon. 

The auburn-haired Wood-elf reclined upon the driest patch of ground. It wasn't the most comfortable spot, but it would do. The midday sunlight filtered through the waxy leaves, warm and golden. She covered her eyes with her right arm, breathing in the scent of a storm building in the sky. 

Tauriel listened to the wind rush over the canopy, mixed with the familiar sounds of the jungle. She almost drifted to sleep, until the comforting low-level noise disappeared. She felt pressure in her ears as it faded to a dull roar, then nothing at all. There was no reason for her hearing to go amiss. She hadn't traveled to another climate or region in two days, and readjusted to Harad upon her return.

She looked around, touching her ears with one hand. She couldn't feel anything wrong, but the absence of sound progressed to a gradual loss of vision. The distinct hues of the jungle seemed to recede like the Belegaer's tide. The flowers - some of which gave off the stench of rotting meat - were less vivid, and more blurry and dark. The humid air that usually left her clothes and skin damp, was rather cool.

Tauriel sat up, her skin prickling and the hair on her arms standing on end. A shiver ran down her spine, a jolt of unease so strong she felt sick. She stared into the deep undergrowth that surrounded the trees, and lined the bank of the north river. Tauriel turned to sit against the tree trunk. She felt more secure with the smooth bark at her back, although she couldn't shake the anxiety.

She held onto the curved, gnarled root by her left hip with one hand, and grazed the hilt of her dagger with the other. It was a feeble attempt at grounding herself in the moment, while she waited. She didn't know what happened to distort her senses, whether it was all in her mind, or some kind of warning. Sometimes the air changed with the onset of a storm, and she told herself that was it. The weather wasn't anything to worry about, unless the river flooded and she had to leave the area. But the sensation didn't ease, despite her thoughts.

Thunder boomed overhead, just as the rain began to fall. Tauriel let out a quiet groan as rapid flashes of lighting caused her to shut her eyes. The afterimage burned into her eyelids, rain dripping from the leaves, down the back of her neck. She shivered, then reached to pull up the hood of her sandy brown cloak. It offered more protection from the sun and sand, than the sudden deluge. She drew her legs to her chest, and wrapped her arms around her shins. 

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Tauriel settled for bowing her head between her knees to quell the nausea that churned in her stomach. She started counting the minutes between each lightning strike to pass the time. A headache enveloped her senses in response to the stimuli from the sporadic change of light and dark. She didn't move, in case her symptoms worsened and she blacked out.

The pulsating rhythm spread from a point behind her eyes, down her cheeks, around her ears to the back of her head. She pressed her knees against her temples, in the hopes of relieving some of the tension. She hissed at the sharp burst of pain that left her reeling and disoriented. If she had some willow bark, she would chew on it, but she hadn't replenished her supply in weeks.

There was no one else around to help her, now, so she sat still and waited out the storm. She didn't expect anyone to stay by her side for long. Not after her restlessness drove her further away from Eryn Lasgalen. The jungle sometimes proved more perilous than her birthplace. Seventeen years wandering Arda, had taught her to caution restraint, where she had none. If this was just a temporary pain, she could get over it, and if this was a warning, she would heed it. She had nowhere to go while the rain soaked through her clothes, and chilled her to the bone.

After a while, she felt the pulse in the back of her head slow to a manageable level of tolerance. Tauriel opened her eyes and looked up with a frown, touching her face. She wondered if her headache would return in full force after she applied pressure, or moved. Her surroundings remained indistinct and muffled as she peered into the shadows. Tauriel thought she had slept through the storm until nightfall, at first. 

That didn't explain how or why she wasn't under a tree in Far Harad. She sat in a sea of grass that reminded her of Rohan, except she didn't know where she was, nor how she had gotten there. It was more than a little unsettling to be so displaced, and she looked to the stars for guidance. They should be a map where she had none save her memory, but even the constellations were different. It brought to mind one of the last conversations she had with Kíli.

"Tauriel."

"Lie still."

"You cannot be her. She is far away. She is far...far away from me. She walks...in starlight in another world."

Tauriel scrambled to her feet. She checked her weapons and pack out of reflex, making sure she still had them on her. She suppressed the urge to empty her stomach, and panic. It threatened to send her spiraling into a state of dissociation. She couldn't afford to make a mistake that could cost her her life. As far as she knew, this place was as safe as any, no matter that being out in the open was dangerous. 

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Tauriel kept to the treeline while she searched for a fresh water source, and memorized the area. She wondered if she had trespassed upon sacred ground in the jungle, and was removed by force. She hadn't encountered whatever or whoever lived there before. She wasn't sure what had changed between then and now. 

The various human tribes in Harad worshiped different deities. They practiced customs she still didn't understand but respected nonetheless. She couldn't remember if they told her about cursed land. Or land that was otherwise imbued with remnants of magic. 

Tauriel considered the fact that she had also forgotten, while she lived among Men. She never took much stock in rumors, or fanciful tales that came from vague truths. The stories changed from person to person, until no one knew how they began. 

It was easier to go through life from one region to another. She drifted in and out of identities and professions until she found one she preferred. She had commanded Elves and Men, served new people, tended crops and tame Mûmakil calves. 

She could find her way out of this. 

As she explored, Tauriel realized the land belonged to a farmstead, with a barn near a small house. The field and sparse trees led to a freshwater stream downhill from a corral with a watering trough. A  waist-high stone fence enclosed the rest of the property, marking the boundary lines. She jumped over the fence, and walked along the edge until she came to a dirt path that turned into a road. 

Tauriel paused, staring at the hard-packed, pitch-black road in front of her. The sparkling fragments embedded in the surface mirrored the night sky above. The moonlight illuminated the white and yellow lines that appeared to go on as far as she could see. It was unlike anything she knew, with no visible landmarks nearby as she looked back and forth.

She was cold, and felt a sneeze coming on as she rubbed her arms to get warm. Her clothes were still soaked, and when she looked in her pack for a dry tunic and leggings, she sighed in defeat. Everything was damp, which meant she would have to wait a while until they dried completely. She was in no condition to wander around an unfamiliar place and get lost even further. 

Tauriel turned to go back the way she came, intending to stay at the farmstead for the night. She checked the barn first, frowning again when she found it locked with a chain and bolt. It rattled as she pushed against the doors with a hand, but held fast. There were no sounds coming from animals agitated with her presence. She still heard nothing, though she thought her senses would have returned by now. 

Taking a few steps back, she looked for another way in. She hopped onto a lower section of the roof near the hayloft, and pulled the rope to open the hatch. A cloud of dust rose up around her ankles when she jumped in, crouching on the rotting floorboards. The stale air and mouse droppings confirmed that the barn wasn't inhabited. The owner had abandoned it, and that was good enough for her. 

No one would be around to notice she was there.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Tauriel decided it wasn't worth the risk to try sleeping in the loft, or one of the empty stalls below. The barn had a lock on the doors for a reason. She crossed one of the support beams to see what else was in the loft on the other side of the barn. As she approached the stacks of hay bales, Tauriel flinched and knelt down. She was overcome by a sudden wave of dizziness that left her ears ringing, and her vision became sharper. The colors were brighter and clear, once again. Although she was too nauseous to appreciate it. 

 She pursed her lips until the sensation passed, then stepped onto the ladder next to the beam. One of the wooden rungs broke under the weight, so she let go and dropped to the floor. Tauriel shivered, but was unwilling to remove the layers of wet clothes that clung to her body. She would have to change soon, if she didn't want to catch a cold. Her immortal nature gave her protection against all manner of disease. She wasn't concerned with falling ill, although she was growing more and more uncomfortable. 

The anxiety that plagued her in the jungle prickled at the back of her mind. Tauriel searched the barn for any sign of life, before she started back up to the loft and out the hatch. She stopped when she spotted a reddish brown stain on the floor, underneath the dirt and straw. She swept the dirt away with her foot, then used a broom that was leaning against a pitchfork. She continued to sweep, until she realized the stain on the floor wasn't the only one. 

Blood splattered the old woodwork, a grim reminder of the violence that had happened. Tauriel didn't want to know the details, but with her curiosity satisfied, she left. She took care not to put too much weight on the ladder, or the rope on the hatch, as she climbed out of the barn. The building was further from the house than she thought, though not by much.

Tauriel walked along the gravel path that led from the barn, to the house. It was also made of the same stone as the fence, and in better condition than the barn. Though she couldn't see any structural damage, Tauriel stepped onto the front porch. She peered into the grimy windows, then tried the door handle. It stuck for a moment, and the door swung open with a loud crack as the lock broke. The elf shrugged, unsheathing a dagger as she entered. 

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Tauriel moved down the main hall, keeping her guard up as she looked in every room. She went up a flight of stairs to the second floor, and the attic, just in case someone was hiding from her. The house was empty, like the barn, and she expected as much. She sheathed her dagger, and started a fire in the hearth near the kitchen. There were plenty of split logs stacked beside the hearth, and food in the pantry, to her relief. Tauriel wasn't looking forward to going back outside for a while. 

She stripped down and hung up her clothes on a coat rack she had set in front of the fire. It was the best she could do for now. She didn't feel comfortable rummaging through the owner's belongings, looking for things to use. Tauriel wasn't comfortable, period. She missed the warm, sunny days in the South, listening to frogs croak and jungle cats roar. She missed traveling with the merchant caravan, and meeting with the tribes to trade. She even missed the great forest where she had been born, and everything that was familiar to her. 

This land was nothing like her home.

She combed her fingers through her hair to get rid of the tangles, and gave up after a few minutes. Tauriel clutched a ragged blanket around her shoulders, staring into the fire. She wondered whether she had a higher purpose, a reason for being here, if it wasn't some kind of punishment.

For the first time in a long time, she wished she had a friend by her side.

Chapter Text

Hunter clamped a hand over his mouth to force the bile down. He swallowed, his throat burned from the stomach acid, and he wanted to look away. 

When he broke into the compound, he expected some kind of resistance. High society vampires kept guards, and security systems for protection, besides their own powers. The older ones had been around long enough to establish themselves, and knew how to hide from humans. They were smart enough to avoid making themselves targets, or so he thought.

He didn't expect for everyone to be dead. 

In-fighting between houses wasn't unusual, although this looked like something from the history books, or the movies. Hunter remembered the dusty film reels that panned over crime scenes, in all their gory detail. The aftermath in front of him was nothing like the black-and-white, sepia-toned photographs left in old case files. He couldn't stop staring in horror at their decapitated bodies. 

The bloodshed and broken bones weren't unfamiliar to him. He committed his fair share of violence, and he wasn't even compelled by a supernatural desire. He was here to kill people, after all. Hunter wondered if his targets - Lina and Isaac - were among the permanently deceased.

He made his way through the compound, tense and wary as he checked every corpse he saw. If there was enough left to identify them.

Hunter noticed more than a few bullet holes in the walls, and a distinct lack of shells sprinkled on the floor. He stopped to inspect the next person, carefully turning their broken jaw with the barrel of his gun. He wasn't going to take any chances that he could get bitten by a slowly regenerating vampire. Their head was three feet away from their torso, across from a shattered left arm, and an intact right leg. It didn't mean they couldn't put themselves back together, eventually. At least, they could, if their heart and brain remained whole.

The silence unnerved him as he poked around for shrapnel, anything that was left behind. If the group who attacked the compound were professionals, there would be less evidence. What they did to these people was almost enough for Hunter to declare them public enemy number one. He needed to find something incriminating that he could use to trace back to the group, and find them guilty. There had to be more than just a feud that would get swept under the rug. 

He could take a vampire apart on an operating table, awake or unconscious, alive or dead. He could end their lives from afar or up close in the field. He spent the better part of his career doing just that, because he liked his job and he got paid for his time and effort. He never strayed from his missions before, although he had his moments. Hunter was nothing if not loyal to his employers.

But he couldn't imagine doing something like this to an entire household. 

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Hunter stepped over a crushed skull, mindful of the pink flesh sticking to the bone. He resisted the urge to pick and choose the least damaged parts, and stitch them back together. It wasn't like a vampire could survive without their own body, even if they had the same brain, or not.

Hunter shoved that particular theory in a drawer in the back of his mind, locked it, and threw away the key. Frankenstein's monster was not something someone tried to recreate just because it was possible. Replacing limbs on humans were one thing, vampires were another thing entirely.

Besides, he was pushing forty, and he didn't want his legacy to be unethical experiments. He would rather fade into obscurity before history counted him among the world's worst.

Hunter supposed it might not matter so much after he died, but he was still alive, and wanted to stay that way. He had a record, and a reputation to keep. He couldn't just walk into a place, and walk out empty-handed.

If he didn't at least figure out what happened here and why, he would be out of a job. 

Hunter looked for security cameras next, though he wasn't sure if he would find any in the compound. He knew that vampire-detecting cameras weren't so widespread that every country implemented their use. They were a recent technological advancement, after a few years of trial and error.

The wars affected every breakthrough of the time. Perfecting anti-vampire methods were the first to go, for the sake of keeping them out of enemy hands. The low population of vampires compared to humans seemed to help with that. 

Not to mention the fact that vampires existing was somewhat of an open and hidden secret. Or a government conspiracy, depending on who asked. There were more people in the world who believed that Santa Claus was real. They outweighed the few who believed the dead walked among the living.

It was easier to accept a benevolent old man who left presents under a tree. But a creature with supernatural abilities that fed off human blood to survive? That was straight out of various mythologies, or someone's nightmares. 

Hunter wished it were just a nightmare, and his entire life ripped from the pages of a Gothic thriller. His existence as the Byronic hero would be preferable at this point. Although he could do without obsessive love interests, and being a terrible person. Or worse, pining for someone even more terrible than he was, before a tragic fate befell them both. He considered himself lucky that he had none of those traits, or at least he didn't think he had them. Nor was he in a relationship with anyone, not anymore.

All the more reason to devote his career and every waking moment to research and discovery. 

Tonight had to be one of the worst discoveries he had made so far. Vampires weren't fragile creatures, and they weren't easy to destroy. They used to be human, once, and humans were notorious for surviving against the odds. Those odds increased with the benefits of becoming a vampire, regardless of the drawbacks. Even so, no matter how fast or strong or magical their bodies became after the change... they were still lying in pieces on the floor.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

They had taken a few of their attackers with them, it seemed. Hunter didn't recognize some of the people among the thirty-something victims he'd counted. It didn't make him feel any better about creeping around the place. He never enjoyed the darker aspects of his work, which sometimes meant he fought rival groups. He recently came home from one, not that it would ever see the light of day. The general public weren't going to find out what happened here, either. 

As far as his employers were concerned, nothing happened. He was never there. Hunter disagreed. He would always remember each time he slipped further and further away from average life. 

The memories he had now, were of the things he had done, the people he hurt, and who he used to be. If the child he had been all those years ago could see him, if his family knew what happened to the child that became a man? They more than likely wouldn't forgive him.

They would look at him like he was a monster, and whisper to each other. Maybe they'd flinch when he came around, skittish and wide-eyed, breathless with fear. Despite the fact that he never put them under the knife on his table. Or perhaps they would ask if he couldn't just change, leave it all behind, and pretend.

There was no way to pretend that he hadn't just walked in on the aftermath of a massacre. Or that he was trying to find Lina and Isaac, so he could kill them, if they weren't already dead.

He found the security room and looked through the grainy footage on the monitors. White noise hummed back at him, and he felt a sense of relief. He wouldn't have to hear or watch these people die on screen, and be unable to help. He could do something about it now that he was here. The lack of evidence was enough to know that someone didn't want this traced back to them.

Hunter smirked, and went on his way.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

The compound was a nice place to live, without the slasher film vibe. It made his skin itch, like rats were gnawing on his fingers, and he knew from experience. The only reason why he didn't have prosthetic fingers or skin grafts was because of Lina's family. He owed them more than his employers knew, and he took a risk by coming here.

His personal connection to his targets was the only reason why he chose to hunt them. He decided to remove both Lina and Isaac as a threat, before anyone else could.

The crimes they committed were punishable by death, according to supernatural laws. He felt obligated to be the one to carry out the sentence. It wouldn't lessen the pain of losing them, even if they were already dead. But he wouldn't go rogue by accidentally murdering their executioner in a fit of rage.

Hunter moved throughout the compound in search of their corpses. The interconnected buildings held together with a few collapsed walls, shattered windows, and some of it was on fire. The sprinklers in the ceiling left two inches of water in the corridors, ruining what was left of overturned furniture. He was suddenly grateful he hadn't brought a team of people, including a photographer. Having to stop and document every instance of destruction, would have worn on his nerves.

As it was, his nerves were already frayed just by being here. He hadn't even caused any of the damage, but he still felt a lump in the back of his throat. The thought of finding Lina and Isaac, brutally killed like the rest of their house, made his lungs burn. Hunter shook his head to clear his mind, and ignored the faint sensation of smoke inhalation. It wasn't bad enough to make him turn back, and leave.

Hunter reconsidered his decision to stay when he came across Lina's body in a sitting room. Her torso slumped over a coffee table, with a fire poker embedded in her chest, pinning her to the surface. A crossbow bolt took out one of her eyes, and by extension, her brain. Isaac was a charred heap of smoking flesh nearby, the back of his head caved in with a sledgehammer. His outstretched hand, tipped with claws instead of fingernails, reached for Lina.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

The gramophone on the other side of the room played the dulcet tones of a famous singer. The slow, romantic song brought a sad smile to Hunter's lips as he recalled it was Lina's favorite. She taught him how to dance, after his first stumbling steps as a child, and he never forgot the look on her face. She had been so proud when he filled ladies' dance cards as a boy, and Isaac was happy to see him take after his aunt.

But that was years ago, when he was young, and hadn't yet become a monster in human form.

He looked down at the dark-haired, dark-skinned woman as he holstered his gun. Hunter reached down, and yanked out the fire poker, then threw it away. He cringed at the sound the crossbow bolt made when he removed that next. He laid Lina on the floor beside Isaac.

Instinct made him look over her lethal injuries, partly out of reassurance and mostly out of hope. He stared at Lina's empty eye socket, and the hole in her chest, and waited for the flesh to regenerate. Sometimes it was instantaneous, though it could take hours or days to heal completely.

Hunter should have known the moment he agreed to be the one to hold Lina and Isaac accountable, he would falter. They were important to him, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He felt like a child again, waiting for them to wake up as the sunlight faded over the horizon. He would have climbed into their coffins like he used to, if it meant they would open their eyes again.

The minutes felt like hours, the longer he watched his aunt. He got up to find refrigerated blood in the kitchen, and returned to try and feed her. He became restless after he attempted to revive Isaac the same way, then left the room, blood in hand.

Hunter collected the other vampires' bodies, and laid them all out in the sitting room. He matched up their decapitated limbs and heads, and fed the ones whose heads weren't crushed.

It was the least he could do, to put himself at ease. He didn't want to leave them all here, without trying to hasten their recovery, if it were possible. Even if everyone was dead for good, he had done something.

Besides run off to hunt down the people responsible for this in the first place. 

Hunter felt the urge to scream in frustration as he stood around and waited until the moon was high in the sky. He gritted his teeth and kept silent. Hot tears stung his eyes as he gathered blankets and draped them over their lifeless bodies. He wished he could have done more to save them.

A group of mercenaries had barged into this small, peaceful corner of the world. They destroyed something he held sacred in the back of his mind, where he clung to hope.

After all these years, he still had Lina and Isaac. They were unchanging, and the foundation of his being.

They were gone.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Hunter left the compound a different way from how he entered, through one of the side doors that led to the garage. He walked down the driveway, which angled around the back of the compound via a second private road. If he took a shortcut through the trees, he could make it to where he parked his truck in almost half the time.

He was too emotionally drained to care about how fast he could get out of here. He moved slower than he would have otherwise, and that proved to be a mistake on his part.

The rumbling growl of a motorcycle engine coming closer alerted him to the fact that he was no longer alone. It wasn't long before the headlights blinded him as the vehicle came roaring up the road. Hunter shielded his eyes from the glow with one arm, and had his other hand on his holster. 

The motorcycle lurched to a stop in front of him, the headlights angled away, into the trees. Hunter lowered his arm to get a better look at the driver, as she hopped off the motorcycle. She placed her helmet on the empty seat, before turning to face him. The grief surged anew as he recognized her, and he had difficulty finding the right words to say.

"Reika?" he whispered, following the young woman's gaze from him, to the compound behind him. Her red eyes widened, her nostrils flared a bit as she caught the scent of her brethren, and she took a step forward. Hunter held out both hands to block her path, but it was like holding back a tidal wave. "Reika, don't. They're gone, I'm sorry, but everyone -"

Hunter felt breathless as she slammed a fist into his chest. Her nails turned claws ripped into his bulletproof vest, and he hit the ground. He was six-foot-one, weighed ninety kilos, and Reika had just swatted him like a fly. 

If she hadn't been wearing finger-less gloves, they'd have torn through the leather. Or his skin. He tried not to think about that, as he rolled onto his side and pushed himself to his feet, wincing.

Reika glared at him, her fangs descending over her primary set of teeth. "I left you once, Hunter, and look at how well that turned out. I'm not going to bury you along with the rest of our family. You're all I have, and I can't catch these bastards by myself. So, where do we start?"

Hunter inhaled as best he could, his lungs protesting through the strain. Or the smoke, which was more likely. "I have more equipment in my truck. There's a safe house, about seventy miles from here..." he murmured as he rubbed his neck, "Where were you, during all... this?" He waved a hand at the compound, grimacing because he sounded bitter, like he blamed her.

"Chasing the bastards, and eating the ones I caught after I interrogated them. We weren't completely unprepared for this, although we lost more people than expected. Some of us managed to fight back and escape, but I don't know where the others are, now." Reika admitted, hopping back on her motorcycle as she started it up again. 

"I just wanted a nice holiday in the country... is that too much to ask?" she grumbled under her breath, holding her helmet out to him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get on." 

Hunter rolled his eyes and a tiny smile flickered across his face. "I'm glad you're safe." he said, his words a little stilted as the pain in his chest lessened, and he sat behind her. "I didn't even know you were here, I thought you'd gone overseas." he added, putting on the helmet and wrapping his arms around her waist. "I missed you, you know."

"Yeah, well, I got bored killing people over there, and decided to come back. Stop, before you make me sick. I'm going to hurl if you get any more sentimental." Reika shuddered, the sensation rolling through her, and Hunter smirked. She circled the courtyard once, then drove away from the compound. She broke the speed limit in her haste to put the incident behind them, but Hunter wasn't going to complain. 

When they reached the stoplight that would take them to the highway, Reika squeezed his hand. He expected her to elbow him in the ribs, so he took it as a good sign. "I missed you, too." she said, her voice sharp and clear over the rumbling engine, and the light changed from red to green.

Hunter smiled, and tightened his hold on her waist. He closed his eyes, and bit back a quiet sigh of resignation. How was he going to explain this to his employers when he returned to headquarters? He couldn't exactly drag a vampire into their stronghold without a reason. 

Even if it was Reika.

He frowned as he thought about it. The fact that she returned to the compound, as he was leaving, was just a coincidence. She said that she and some others got out of the attack, but with the security footage gone, he couldn't verify it. Not even through audio recordings. 

There was no reason for him to consider her an enemy...

Was there? 

Chapter Text

Reika gazed at the open road as the countryside passed them by, fading in the rear view mirror. She rolled down the window to feel the wind flow through her fingers. Reika leaned back as it rushed into the cab, lifting up her wavy black hair. She raked out any potential tangles, though she didn't mind all that much. Her braid had already come undone, during the drive to Hunter's truck, but it had been worth it. 

Her motorcycle was in the back, with the rest of Hunter's things, and rattled every so often. She had strapped it down to keep it from slipping on the truck bed, then covered it with a tarp just in case. Both vehicles were old enough to be almost obsolete, not that anyone would notice. Unless they were someone like her, or Hunter.

She spent the last three weeks chasing people, and refused to take their vehicles for her own. It helped to confuse them at first, but didn't take long for them to realize that she wasn't part of their group. Even though she switched cars at a few checkpoints, she felt safer using her motorcycle. It was preferable to driving a rigged vehicle that could explode from a remote detonator. 

The trail Reika had been following stopped cold, somewhere between four country borders. She loitered around a gas station with magazines ten years out of date, and used all the coin she had to call May. Reika stayed on the phone while May organized the cleanup plan for the compound. They had to do it before the authorities got involved, and had questions they couldn't answer. When everything was in place, Reika returned to the compound. 

Reika didn't know what she thought she would find there, but it wasn't Hunter. 

She glanced at the man beside her, who still looked the same as he had thirty - or was it fifty? - years ago. She couldn't tell anymore. Time meant nothing and everything to vampires. It meant more to those who drank vampire blood to stay young without dying to achieve immortality. Of course it was also entertaining to kill those people, and listen to them complain. For about five seconds. 

Oh, how they'd scream and beg and cry. How could she, why would she, please, not again. They'd give her anything she wanted, if she just let them live. They didn't actually mean it, they didn't want to die and sacrifice their humanity. It was just that they weren't ready, they just wanted more time, this was a mistake. Or something like that, but she wasn't paying attention. 

Newsflash - no one was ready to die, and because it was fun.

Reika didn't offer her condolences, as her thoughts turned to Hunter's aunt and uncle. She couldn't say something, without coming across as insincere. She always had trouble empathizing with other people, even when she was human. Hunter told her it was something to do with how her mind worked, and not because of the transformation. She forgot what he called it, but she remembered he took pictures of her brain and showed her what it looked like. 

"I'm sorry I left." she said after a moment, pulling her hand back when she felt raindrops on her knuckles. She rolled up the window, ignoring how her skin crawled as she closed it. Reika could see his reflection in the glass, and turned to look at him as he met her gaze, but stayed silent. "I needed space, after..." 

Hunter nodded. "I remember what you said, then. I know what you're trying to say, now. You don't have to apologize for that. I think we're long past holding grudges, Reika." The boyish smile that was so familiar to her, lit up his face, although it didn't reach his eyes. He was still processing the death of his family, and the knowledge that he'd never see them again.

Not this time.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

The rain turned into a storm that flooded the bridge they were going to cross. Hunter had to turn back, and take shelter at a diner a few miles down the road. He suggested they take the chance to rest and get something to eat, until the storm let up. Then they could go to the safe house, instead of driving in bad weather.

Reika fidgeted in her seat as she looked outside, and tried not to flee into the wilderness. The walls weren't closing in on her, the ceiling wasn't coming down to crush her, so why did she feel like they were? There was no logical reason for her to be claustrophobic right now, she understood that. She kept her reactions in check most of the time, to the best of her ability, but some days were worse than others. 

It was probably just the storm making her senses go haywire. 

 She eyed the door when the bell jingled, and caught her attention. A man in dark clothes stood in the entrance, closed his umbrella, and tipped his hat to her in greeting. She smiled back as he took off his long coat and sat at the counter. He ordered coffee, steak and potatoes with a side of bread and butter. 

The waitress wrote down his order, and gave it to the cook before she poured his coffee. She twirled a lock of curled blonde hair around her finger as she asked him if he needed anything else. When he shook his head, the waitress moved on to take care of the other customers. Reika wondered if the woman was attempting to flirt with the man, or if she was just bored with working tonight.

There was an old man in a suit sitting at the counter, reading a newspaper. A woman with a pearl necklace fed sausage bits to the tiny dog in her purse. Two children were busy coloring on paper in another booth, giggling about planes. Their frazzled-looking mother was speaking in low tones to their tired-looking father. A surly young woman huddled over a cup of hot tea by the jukebox. An even younger man slept in the booth behind her, sprawled out despite the lack of space.

Reika looked back at Hunter, his head bent over a map as he shoveled pancakes into his mouth. He was drawing connections to the routes she took to capture some of the group, before she lost the trail. He also seemed to be marking the locations of different safe houses along the way. She wondered if the distraction helped, so he wouldn't have a breakdown in the middle of nowhere.

"I can't figure it out. Where the hell did they go?" Hunter put down his pen, and slumped in his seat. The fork in his right hand clattered on the ceramic plate as he let go, and picked up his coffee instead.

"I told you everything I can remember." she said, keeping her voice low. Despite the storm outside, Reika wanted to preserve the cozy atmosphere in the diner. She used it to her advantage, so Hunter felt a measure of safety, even though she was sitting across from him. "Three weeks, and not a damn sign, after that? I almost called Naomi."

Hunter blinked, his hazel eyes widening at her admission. His knuckles turned white around the curve of the cup's handle. "There's no reason to involve her in anything." he muttered, his shoulders hunched as a vein in his temple throbbed. "I need to use the restroom." 

"You wanna tell me why I shouldn't involve my wife?" 

Reika watched him slide out of the booth, and practically run away from her. She saw him go into the men's restroom, the door swinging open and then it slammed shut. The noise echoed throughout the diner, loud enough to startle the other customers. Reika bit the inside of her cheek, instead of baring her teeth at them in a display of aggression. She crossed her arms over her small chest, and slouched in her seat, muttering in her native tongue.

"No? Right, then." 

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

"Refill, darlin'?" 

The vampire looked up at the waitress, who gestured to Hunter's abandoned cup. Reika gave a short nod, relieved for the interruption. It was better than being alone with her thoughts. "Yes, please..." She pushed the cup closer to the blonde woman, and glanced at her name tag. "Thank you, Gladys."

Gladys smiled, and filled the cup. Her lipstick was a beautiful shade of red that reminded Reika of ripe strawberries. "You need anything else, hon? Maybe somethin' to eat? You look awful pale..." she sounded concerned, but before Reika could respond, the woman gasped. "Oh, dear! Your nose is bleeding!" she exclaimed, quick to put a few napkins in Reika's open palm. "Are you all right?"

Reika flinched, startled. She touched the corner of a napkin above her lip, and pulled it away. Sure enough, the thin paper turned dark as her blood stained it. She crumpled the napkin up and pressed it against her left nostril to staunch the flow. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. Thank you." she murmured. 

"I'll get you some soup. That'll warm you right up." Gladys rested her hand on Reika's shoulder for a moment, before she walked to the back of the diner. The row of leather and chrome stools, and the raised bar and counter put more distance between her and Reika. She disappeared through a set of swinging doors, to the kitchen.

Reika stared after the blonde, feeling her fangs poking through her gums. She hid a smirk behind her hand as she tilted her head up, and looked at the ceiling. The old-fashioned lights flickered after thunder blasted through the ominous clouds.

The vampire stood, walking to the restroom so she could throw away the napkins, and wash her face. She passed Hunter as he came out, and looked mildly confused that she had a nosebleed, but at least he was calm.  She rolled her eyes when he raised an eyebrow, and slapped his hand away gently when he tried to take a closer look. 

"Go drink your coffee, Kit. I'll survive." she drawled, gesturing to the booth. The slip-up didn't go unnoticed, as Hunter stared at her like a deer in the headlights. Reika pushed the ladies' restroom door open with her arm, and she lowered the hand she had on her nose.

"What? You look like you just saw a ghost. Seriously, though, your coffee's going to get cold." Reika stepped into the restroom, then turned to close the door. "Oh, and don't eat my soup." she added, spotting Gladys leaving the kitchen with a bowl on her serving tray.

"Nothing, it's nothing." Hunter nodded, his smile a little strained. "Of course." He went back to the booth, leaving Reika to her own devices. 

Reika tossed the napkins in the bin by the door, and grabbed paper towel from the stack on the counter. She turned on the faucet, wincing as the pipes squeaked, before hot water poured out. She cupped her hands and splashed her face, then wiped it clean. Her nose stopped bleeding after a couple minutes, to her delight. 

"Finally..." 

She took the time to use the facilities while she was there, washed and dried her hands, then fixed her hair. She put it up in a loose ponytail, and straightened her clothes, before she left the restroom. 

Reika walked past the man with the newspaper as he fiddled with his pocket watch, and smelled like ink. The woman with the toy dog applied more rouge to her cheeks, and barely spared Reika a glance. The man in the hat was drinking his second cup of coffee, and eating a slice of pecan pie.

The storm outside picked up, rain splashing the windows till they rattled. The noise seemed to disturb the children, who were listening to their mother read a passage from a book. It didn't bother the young woman by the jukebox, as she curled around her drink. The young man sleeping in the back booth woke with a jolt as lightning struck. For a moment, it was blinding and white in the otherwise dimly lit diner.

Reika let out a quiet huff of laughter as her senses distorted, and the floor rushed up to meet her. A pair of arms wrapped around her waist and upper back as she spun around to see who spared her the embarrassment of collapsing in a dead faint. She stared at the man in the hat, unable to help the blush that rose to her cheeks, because he just had to be a gentleman. 

He held her like she was a damsel in distress, or a dance partner he just dipped for an impromptu kiss. Reika refused to consider it, as he kept holding her, as though he were afraid to let her go. The seconds felt like hours, and she was not the type to break the silence and speak first.

She didn't look across the room at Hunter to see his reaction. She focused on the man's face, trying to place him in her memories, as she wondered if they met before. His pale green eyes were almost hypnotic, and although he had strong features, he was a stranger. 

Darkness engulfed the diner as the power went out. 

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Reika smiled as she breathed in the scent of ozone and petrichor the moment she stepped outside. The last bit of rain trickled down the roof, into a puddle. She watched the two children barrel past her, and their exhausted parents. They jumped into the puddle, one after the other, to their father's dismay as they went on to their car. 

The young woman and man were next to leave, both of them wiping the sleep from their eyes. Then the woman with the dog, and the man with his newspaper rolled up under his arm. They gave Reika a wide berth, as she moved away from them in turn. 

"We should get going. We still have thirty-five miles left." Hunter said as he walked up to her. He tucked the map into his inside jacket pocket. The cold breeze ruffled his chestnut brown hair, and he reached up to run his fingers through it. His efforts were in vain, as he succeeded in making his hair look more windswept than ever. 

Reika glanced in the window behind her. She could see the man with the hat pay for his food and drink, and pull on his coat. Gladys was clearing away plates and cups, and Reika's empty bowl of soup. "Give me a minute?" she said, looking back at Hunter. "Make sure the rain didn't ruin anything in the truck." 

Hunter gave her a short nod. "Don't take too long." He walked off to where he parked his truck.

Reika waited to see if Hunter would look over his shoulder at her. When he didn't, she turned to go back in the diner, and bumped into the other man as he was leaving. She blinked in surprise when he reached out, his hands heavy on her shoulders as he held her steady. He seemed to have a habit of physically supporting people. 

"Hey, stranger." she greeted, watching his umbrella handle swing in the crook of his arm for a second. "Need a lift?" 

"Hey, yourself." he murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I don't have anywhere else to be, and I do enjoy your company. So I could take you up on your offer. Unless you were joking, in which case, I can just stay here." 

The playful remark made Reika pause, as she had heard something similar in the last three weeks. "Well, I have somewhere to be, and I did enjoy your company. Too bad we're not on holiday, Wesley." she said, her tone light and even, in spite of the fact that it might have been a bad move to call him out. 

Wesley withdrew his hands immediately, as though burned. "Oh, shit, it's you. I'm sorry, please don't leave my body on the side of the road. I had nothing to do with it, I swear." He tried to defend himself against her subtle accusation, as though it mattered to her.

Reika tilted her head slightly, both entertained and annoyed. "I know. I don't care. Are you coming or not?" She gestured to Hunter's truck, where the other man was waiting for her in the driver's seat.

"Really?" Wesley sounded shocked, even after she nodded. "Then yes. I am." 

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

"Remind me why I agreed to this?" Wesley whispered in Reika's ear, as Hunter looked at him again. She was sitting in the middle while Hunter drove, acting as a physical buffer zone between the two men. "Never mind..." 

The vampire had remained silent for the last twenty-five miles. After she explained to Hunter that Wesley would be joining them, she stalled any argument he made. Reika didn't bother to add that she met Wesley on the back roads in another country during her murder spree. She figured it was a need to know basis, and Hunter didn't need to know yet.

"Because you're as bored as I am?" Reika suggested, toying with her gloves to occupy her hands. It was the safer option, next to scratching the seat with her nails. 

Hunter slowed down as the safe house came into view. A large stone fence lined the roadside for a few acres on either side, and the fields looked overgrown. She wondered when the last time anyone had been there. When Hunter reached the turnoff, Reika saw faint grey smoke rising from the chimney.

He parked on the side of the house, in a dilapidated carport. "I didn't think anyone would be here." Hunter admitted as the three of them got out of the truck, and approached the front door.

"Let's have a look, shall we?" Reika pocketed her gloves, then knocked on the door. When no one answered, she went inside, holding one arm back to keep Hunter and Wesley outside. She could take more damage than they could, and she didn't want to deal with injured humans. Unless she was the one doing the injuring. 

Reika smelled someone unfamiliar, but it was more than that. It was like nothing she recognized, and it excited her. She walked further into the house, following the scent and going into the living room. The scent was strongest there, in front of the hearth, where there was a still-burning fire. 

"Well? Who is it?" Hunter called softly.

Reika turned to answer him, when she saw a flash of green and red out of the corner of her eye. A warm hand closed around her shoulder, and she was suddenly pinned to the floor, with a dagger to her throat. She stared up at the pale-skinned, auburn-haired woman straddling her waist. It wasn't often that someone got the drop on her, least of all another supernatural creature.

"Mi van me? Sevig thû úan." said the woman, demanding and aggressive, and a little confused. Reika could smell the emotional turmoil coming off the woman in waves, and closed her dark brown eyes. She gritted her teeth so she didn't bite the woman on accident, even though she was within her rights. 

"I don't know, but there's a knife involved." Reika called back, opening her eyes as the woman applied more pressure to her throat. The edge of the blade was close to nicking her skin, and drawing blood. Reika wasn't about to start a fight with someone whose abilities she didn't know. She was confident and reckless, but she didn't have a death wish.   

"Mi van me?" the woman repeated. Her eyes were wide, and her auburn hair fell over her shoulder, revealing pointed ears. 

"That's new." Reika commented under her breath. The woman looked at her in confusion. Reika assumed the woman heard her speak, and they were in a rather compromising position. She was too irritated to even contemplate how she would enjoy it otherwise. 

Wesley ran into the house, his footsteps loud compared to Hunter, who was going around the back. He had a gun drawn, and looked rather tense as he came into the living room. It was moments like this, that Reika remembered exactly what kind of person he was, to react this way. The only difference was that they were on the same side, now. 

"Let her go, and I won't kill you. Maybe." he ordered. 

He leveled his gun at the woman, just as Hunter barged in through the back door and mimicked Wesley. The green-eyed man traded a look with Hunter, who pointed his gun at the woman's back, instead of her head. Wesley had no qualms about taking a head-shot. Reika knew that, and she glared at him for it.

"Let her go!" Hunter snarled, and fired his gun at the floor beside the two women. He looked just as terrified as the auburn-haired woman, who cried out at the sound, and backed off. She even dropped her dagger, and covered her ears with both hands as she cowered in a corner of the room. 

Wesley trained his gun on the woman, as he kept her in his sights, and left her with nowhere to run. The way he looked at her, prepared to do anything he had to... It reminded Reika that even though he seemed weak, he was strong enough to face her in a fight that lasted for two days. 

Reika sat up, and rubbed her throat. She grunted when Hunter embraced her, trembling as badly as the other woman. She could smell salt on his skin as he buried his face in her hair, and kissed the top of her head. "I'm good, really." she murmured, returning the embrace as Hunter helped her to her feet. She didn't push him to the floor, though she wanted to. 

Hunter picked up the dagger, and turned it over in his hand. He passed it to Reika, while he regained his composure. The fear of losing her was palpable, and the vampire leaned into his side as she inspected the blade. She glanced at the woman, who had gone quiet. Or maybe a little deaf, and her ears were still ringing from the gunshot. 

"I have no idea who that woman is, but can we keep her?" 

"You can't be serious, Reika! She could have killed you!" 

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks."

"Still bored?" Wesley grinned at Reika over his shoulder.

Chapter Text

Apprehension made her hesitate; a split second decision to ignore them or obey. High-pitched ringing accompanied the warning shot, followed by disorienting pain. The assault on her senses twice in one day was overwhelming, and she thought only of finding relief. Her dagger lay forgotten, released in her haste to protect her ears. She leaned against the wall, waiting for the moment to pass, once they made no move to attack her again.

Tauriel almost thought the storm returned to whisk her away South. She tried to recall if she encountered a certain flower on her trek through the jungle... Vivid hallucinations were the least of her worries, if she lay paralyzed in Harad. She wished this were only a nightmare brought on by inhaling too much pollen. Tauriel was no stranger to the torment of one's own mind, when beset by subconscious fears. Even at her worst, she wouldn't create a dream world this strange.

The scent of smoke lingered in the air, burning her lungs as she inhaled, gasping for breath. Desperate to calm her nerves, Tauriel raked her hands through her auburn tresses. She refused to lose herself to panic, while she was at the trio's mercy. She smelled the hearth-fire burning low in the next room, and the others with her. There were traces of the woman's unnatural odor on her clothes and skin, where they had touched. It was too soon for Tauriel to determine the woman's true nature, or the scope of her abilities, if there were any.

Chapter Text

"You wanna tell me what that was all about, last night? Or are you gonna argue again? Cause this won't end well - for anyone - if you keep acting like a maniac."

Wesley had taken it upon himself to be the mediator, ever since Hunter's fight with Reika. Their argument turned personal, and Hunter wasn't prepared for it. Wesley stepped in, placating the vampire with just a look and a firm hand. He knew more than he let on, only getting involved when Hunter threatened to lock her in a room and throw away the key. She promised to bury him alive, so he could see how he liked it.

Then Reika went right ahead with her foolish idea to gain the redhead's trust, and left. He hadn't spoken to her since, preferring to avoid both women. The vampire's penchant for befriending her would-be killers was an unbreakable habit. If Reika managed to succeed, she would claim to have gained another valuable and loyal asset. Hunter suspected Wesley was no exception.

"Well?" Wesley said in an encouraging tone. He stayed tight-lipped about his own circumstances. When pressed, he glossed over his tenuous bond of friendship with Reika as symbiotic. Hunter concluded the man agreed to be her private blood bag, and had asked for her blood in exchange.

Hunter scoffed at the suggestion, and ran his finger down the inventory list of supples stored in the house. "I don't think so." he retorted, unwilling to indulge the man's whims. Combat didn't always instill a sense of camaraderie between people. He had everything - including his name - stripped from him decades ago. There was no reason to become involved other than as a passing acquaintance.

"You have no right to interfere. Unless you're a trusted member of Reika's household, I'm going to keep it between her and I." he continued. He couldn't stop himself from lacing acid into his next words: "Are you?"

Wesley's green eyes burned with anger, breaking his otherwise calm demeanor. "No!" he exclaimed, insulted by the underlying rejection. "I just don't want to listen to your drama longer than I have to. Talk to her, and deal with it, or I will."

Chapter Text

Roadblocks and traffic barricades lined the junction for a mile. Anyone attempting to go around or through, were quickly redirected by local authorities. The night crew had little patience with some of the more unruly drivers, and threatened to arrest all trespassers.

Reika turned back, sliding between two lanes. People honked at her when she overtook them, though she didn't intend to steal their place in line. She kept driving, until she returned to the rest area where she had left the others.

"They closed the pass through Larramendi." she informed everyone once she parked, taking off her helmet and leaving it on the seat behind her. Her heels scraped the hard-packed ground as she stood. She slipped out of her jacket, then draped it over the handlebars. Reika joined the trio at a picnic table.

"We'll have to take Cárdenas." she added, looking askance at Wesley while she stretched her arms behind her back.

Wesley swallowed the apple slice in his mouth with a slight cough, and dropped the rest of his half-eaten fruit. Tauriel caught it before it hit the ground, and handed the apple back to him. He thanked her, picking up Hunter's water bottle to take a quick drink as the other man spoke.

"Did they say why?" Hunter perused the map laid out in front of them, marked with directions and notes. Cárdenas was a scenic detour that catered to off-road enthusiasts and hikers. Larramendi tunneled straight through, and would cut their travel time in half.

"Rock slide." Reika said with a shrug, accepting the bottle when Wesley offered it to her next.

The ice-cold liquid slaked her blood-thirst, and temporarily curbed her hunger. The next stop they made, she would have to eat something more filling than a protein bar. She wasn't above eating roadkill or insects, stealing leftovers from restaurants, or going dumpster diving in the back alleys of Saengdaao.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Purple thistles covered the mountainside as they traveled further into Cárdenas. Narrow, winding roads forced Reika to abandon the high speeds she preferred. Traffic behind them slowed to a crawl, headlights casting shadows in her blind spot. The road sloped downwards, curving into the ravine's edge on the right.

A rusty, broken guardrail rattled as she passed. Reika frowned, taking a closer look in the mirror at the vehicles following Hunter's truck. Four-wheel drive and off-road capabilities were commonplace in Ødegård. An imported coupé that was about six cars back, rolled to a halt. Another driver held up the line for a few minutes, letting their engine idle. The others' horns blared, cutting through the night in short bursts.

Something was wrong.

Chapter Text

"Don't move!"

Reika stilled, breathing shallow, awaiting Tauriel's next order. Her claws pierced metal, leaving jagged grooves where she had wrenched the back door open. Dirt and rock cascaded into the fissure, gradually filling the vehicle. A wide-eyed child with a tear-streaked face gazed at them through the broken window. He crouched on the floor between the driver's seat and the back seat.

Tauriel waited for the shifting earth to slow, then urged Reika to continue. The elf smiled encouragingly at the boy as he hesitated, climbing up the seat to where Reika knelt above him. He hooked his arms around her neck, secured his legs around her waist, and let her pull him from the overturned coupé.

The vampire tried to pass the boy onto Tauriel, to no avail. He buried his face in her jacket, while she cradled the back of his head with one hand, rubbing his back with the other. She made a soft crooning noise, voice lowered to a male range that mimicked his father's tenor.

It soothed him long enough for Reika to make the trek up to the road, where his parents reunited with their son. She reassured the family he was fine, apart from a few scratches, and went back down into the ravine. She followed the bright orange spray-painted path, pointing the way to each accident.

Accompanied by Reika, Tauriel moved on, scoping out the third site. They worked in silence to avoid causing further distress to the survivors on the road. Rescuing other victims and ensuring their safety was paramount. They couldn't afford any distractions, or risk becoming trapped themselves.

"You go." suggested Reika, bracing herself against the wheel-well, lifting the car free. Her feet sank into the ground a little more each time, until she was up to her calves in debris. "I've got this." she murmured, straining to find her balance when the pile threatened to crush her.

Tauriel leaped across to her, swift and light-footed steps withstanding the pressure. She swept Reika into an embrace, hauling the shorter woman to a safe distance as the car rolled forward. It lurched to a sudden stop behind another car, entrenched deep in several layers of earth.

"Thanks." Reika huffed, brushing locks of hair out of her face. Tauriel reached up and redid the woman's loose bun, winding the strands tight atop her head. The last thing she wanted was for either of them to end up scalped, should their hair get caught on something. The elf stepped away when she finished, satisfied with her handiwork.

Before them, a man was struggling to break the windshield of his vehicle. The entire left side caved in, crumpled beneath the weight of the other car. Tauriel spared a glance for the other driver, taking note that the woman was unconscious. She gestured at Reika to extricate the man, while she focused on the woman.

Reika picked up a large rock, and used it to disguise her inhuman strength by smashing the windshield. She popped the steel frame out, tossing the mostly-intact glass aside. The vampire avoided causing the man further injury, regardless of her blood tolerance.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

The woman slumped over like a limpet, unresponsive as Tauriel unlatched the seat-belt. She pushed the deflated airbag across the steering wheel, clearing her view to look at the damage. A sharp inhale of surprise left Tauriel when she realized that the woman was nearly six months pregnant.

She turned to call Reika, her words cut off by a monstrous hiss.

Icy fingers clamped around her bare wrist, and blinding pain lanced through her arm. Tauriel recoiled with a stunned yelp, meeting the woman's wary, frightened gaze. Her luminous, blood-shot eyes were grey, a color Tauriel had yet to see in people here. The woman shared some characteristics with Reika, so Tauriel placed her in the same group, but not the same tribe.

Tauriel tucked her blistered, bruised wrist close to her chest. She lifted her good hand in a placating gesture. "You're safe." she said in the common tongue. "I'm not going to hurt you. What's your name?"

The woman refused to answer, burrowing her nose and bruised jaw in the silver scarf wrapped around the collar of her coat. She closed her eyes, resting a pale hand on her swollen belly. "Safe." she whispered, sounding incredulous, with an accent thicker than Tauriel's.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

The star-strewn sky disappeared under black clouds, laden with rain or snow. Moonlight became scarce, its familiar gleam a dull shine. Tauriel shuddered as fog rolled in, blanketing the mountainside, and reduced their visibility. She saw the ground in front of the lookout's railing, leveled out at the bottom of the ravine.

Corpses lined the far edge of the tent closest to the road, hidden from view. There were twelve in all, covered in makeshift shrouds. Death was no stranger to the elf, but still unsettled her. Mortal lives were fleeting, as it was the Gift of Men. Unlike the Eldar, they would never have a chance to be reborn.

"How much longer?" she asked Reika, listening for Hunter's truck, or the sound of emergency vehicles. They returned to the lookout point a few hours before dawn to find him gone, along with other survivors. Wesley had informed them that the severity of their wounds couldn't wait for an ambulance. 

Chapter Text

The trauma bay doors closed behind Hunter.

Early morning darkness and bleak winds greeted him as he walked out into the cold. He tugged his grey coat collar higher around him, then shoved his hands into his pockets, hurrying back to his truck. They would be out of Iriarte Province by midday, if the weather permitted. He jammed the key into the lock and opened the door, reaching for his gloves as he turned on the heater. 

The longer he spent inside the hospital, the longer he thought about the last time he was in one.

Back then, he hoped Reika would take solace in her survival, no matter the outcome. She triumphed over death, and her spirit endured. Empty platitudes from the doctor who saved her life weren't enough to calm her fury. Her screaming shattered the windows - or was it that she had thrown chairs and vases of flowers through them?

He remembered Naomi hovered in the corridor, ever the dutiful wife, for all that their marriage was one of convenience. He refused to let her enter the room, after Naomi had the audacity to apologize for Reika's emotional outburst. Uncouth and unbecoming, she'd called it. They weren't supposed to share their grievances with the world, but rather confide in their household gods, and beg forgiveness. 

Hunter held in a vicious retort that would further sully Reika's reputation as Naomi's bodyguard-turned-spouse. Naomi had heard it all before, and not from him.

A week later, the Republic of Ortuzar fell under sovereign rule. Ødegård rose in its place. 

He drove away from the hospital, heading for the mountain roads. Hunter eased up on the gas when he saw the numbered signs and arrows pointing to other trails, lookouts and campsites. He was almost there.

Snowflakes melted on the lower half of the fogged-up, dirty windshield. Hunter looked out at the ever-darkening sky, where the sun should be rising in the east. The man was overcome with weariness and confusion, as though roused from a deep slumber. A burst of agitation swiftly turned to wrath. The moisture in his breath condensed into ice, in spite of hot air coming through the vents. 

"Ryuu...?" he wheezed, lungs rattling in his chest, pupils blown wide as the landscape around him turned infrared with unwavering clarity.

Chapter Text

"I need to check Veda archives, but as far as I can tell, this definitely isn't an Old World language. It's written like a dialect from Balija, maybe Saengdaao, except it sounds – I don't know..." Hunter’s ink-stained fingers traced countless lines and whorls of beautiful script. Side-by-side with ancient and modern languages, Hunter cross-referenced each letter, searching for a link. Tauriel called it Tengwar, a standardized alphabet that replaced the original Sarati.

Seated across from him at the low table, Tauriel turned a page in the alphabet and dictionary Hunter had written for her, reading from right to left. She copied letters and words, blending Hunter’s penmanship with her own. Behind her, sitting on the back of the divan, Reika ran a soft-bristled brush through Tauriel's fresh-washed and dried hair. Her auburn locks spilled over Reika's lap, between her legs, onto the plush rug under their bare feet.  

“It’s not?” Reika hummed thoughtfully, gathering Tauriel’s hair in her hands. She separated it, braiding smaller strands through a larger plait. It was more convenient for Tauriel to keep her hair loose, but impractical for riding. Reika found the repetetive task cathartic, enjoying the trust Tauriel had given her.  

Hunter sighed. "No. I should've asked Ryūsei to stay and help translate."  

Tauriel pushed the tip of her pen through the paper; ink spilled onto the blank page underneath. She moved on to the next line, starting over. Southron filled each sheet as she wrote her own dictionary in several languages. Reika wondered if Tauriel were fluent in each dialect, or had reached a conversational level that met her needs. Tauriel was keen to learn everything she could about their common tongue, teaching them hers in turn. Her native language was the Silvan dialect, which came from Nandorin, although she mostly spoke to them in Sindarin, Southron, or Westron.

Jin-gyeong shifted on the divan beside Hunter, rearranging the cushions to create a nest. "What makes you think he would be able to? I doubt he knows Ødegård is a federation, or anything else after the Incoronata Massacre of 1443. Rumor is that he slept through Magnus’s rebellion and the genocide in Ulvestad, not that I blame him." she said, leaning against thick, embroidered pillows. She strung thread through a needle to mend a tear in her coat.  

"If any of those –” Jin-gyeong pointed at the pile of assorted papers on the low table in front of them, “– were written in Giha, I'd be able to read them... Probably. I'm dyslexic."  

"Because his household is ancient, and he had a formal education. He doesn’t need to concern himself with people like Magnus. Giha? These are Low, Upper West, Early Middle.” He slid the Han-byeol stack over to her. “I’m looking at Kamati, Özkan, Ülavere, and Proto-Avcı." Hunter rifled through his and Tauriel's notes with renewed interest. He selected a calendar with regional translations, and began comparing it to a half-finished celestial map of Ennorath.  

Jin-gyeong closed the row of neat stitches into a faint line. “Pure-blood, sovereign, and hunter dialects?” she said, focused on the last three he named. “I understand Ülavere although I can’t read it, but the other two – those went extinct. How do you know them?” The woman glanced up from her coat, catching Hunter’s attention.  

“I might’ve been born in Balija, but my parents were merchants who traded with the Old World. I spent most of my childhood and apprenticeship there. Özkan is my second mother tongue.” Hunter broke eye contact as Jin-gyeong gave him a long, appraising look to his consternation. “Ortuzari is still the official language here, and hasn’t changed in years. I’m hoping there’s common roots between them that were lost.”

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

"Ortuzari developed in isolation from Kamati. It's possible her people assimilated millennia ago." Wesley remarked, lacing his fingers together behind his head as he reclined on one of the feather beds underneath a window. "It's why my accent is completely different from yours. No one outside of Kamat can understand me unless I speak their language."

"I still can't understand you." Hunter said lightly, teasing Wesley, or something close to it. Wesley mocked his pronunciation in what Reika assumed was the Garrastazu dialect, and threw a round tufted pillow at Hunter’s face from across the room. He ducked as it sailed over his head to the tile floor. Jin-gyeong added it to her nest, using it to support her back.  

Reika looped a hair tie around part of Tauriel’s braid before she started on the next section. Her hair turned reddish-gold in the sunlight coming in through the shutters’ flower-shaped cutouts. They cast shadows that lengthened and waned as clouds moved overhead, blocking the light. Reika stood, then reached to pull the pin keeping the shutters closed, leaving them open against the plaster walls.

The vampire took her seat on the divan, and resumed braiding the rest of Tauriel’s hair. Reika leaned over the redhead’s right shoulder when Tauriel asked a question. “What?” she said, ignoring the urge to scent her. The lure of her pulse thrummed underneath Tauriel’s fair skin, close enough that Reika could get lost in the sound.  

“Who is Maegnoss?” Tauriel strung Sindarin words together, translating the name into something that sounded like ‘sharp family’.  

The unintentionally accurate description made Reika chuckle. She pressed her forehead against the soft linen covering Tauriel’s shoulder, stifling her laughter. Tauriel wore Hunter’s clothes – a kurta tunic and churidar trousers – while their laundry hung out to dry on the balcony.

“Magnus is a pure-blood who blames the gods for ending the Golden Age, and taking humanity’s lifespan with it. He believes they’re responsible for desperate humans performing mass exsanguination on vampires.” Reika told her. “Few households remain since they were established in this realm. Most were dissolved for one reason or another, but stealing blood is rare these days. People don’t believe we exist anymore – it’s safer that way.”  

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

“Can’t sleep?”  

Reika shook her head as Tauriel joined her on the balcony. Light from the setting sun warmed her back, though it paled it comparison to the bioluminescent aura radiating from Tauriel’s body. She suppressed the instinctive need to be closer to the source, wondering how Ryūsei maintained his composure. Healing the woman’s injury had taken priority, then he had walked away as though she didn’t have exactly what he wanted.  

“I’ve slept enough for a lifetime. I don’t need to rest as often as I used to.” she admitted, looking across the street when a domestic mountain cat hissed. Sleep left her feeling disoriented, vulnerable whenever she was caught in the haze between dreams and nightmares. The earthquake brought back feelings she would rather forget, no matter how many years passed.

Tauriel folded her arms atop the stone railing, watching street lamps and porch lights flicker on across the province. Traditional music played in the distance, crackling through a radio, accompanied by the sounds of night vendors opening their shops. A group of girls in secretary uniforms took to the sidewalk as cars drove past, laughing to themselves. “You said that... life is shorter. Don’t humans live at least a century?”  

“You were born in the Dark Age. Here, or elsewhere.” she said, the realization sending a shiver through her. Reika half-expected to find Ryūsei breathing down her neck. She glanced into the room, where the others lay asleep in their beds. “They can live for ten thousand years. For some, it’s not enough, when they still grow old and die.”  

The redhead turned to face her, astonished. Her arm fell to her side, gripping and twisting a handful of Hunter’s kurta. “Was it not enough for you?” Tauriel inquired calmly, most likely reserving judgment until Reika gave her answer.  

Reika met Tauriel’s eyes, refusing to hide behind a lie. “No. I didn’t ask for this life. It was given to me.” Flashes of that time crossed her mind in vague impressions, and she sank them beneath the waves of countless memories. “I died and was reborn. This is who I am, now.” She gestured to herself in a sweeping motion, unsure whether Tauriel would accept her or not. The younger woman didn’t seem the type to uphold pure-blood ideals.

“You were killed.” Tauriel said sympathetically, looking away in shame for having asked something so private. “I’m sorry.”  

“It wasn’t your fault.” Reika had dealt with her fair share of guilt-ridden people, and wasn’t about to let Tauriel dwell on her past. The vampire went back into the room to get their shoes, careful not to wake the others from their slumber. She pocketed an extra room key that hung on a hook by the front door, then scribbled a note on a scrap of paper. Hunter wouldn’t worry if she didn’t, but it would stop him from going after them.

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

The last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the clouds, bathing the province in blue-grey shadows. Reika closed the balcony doors behind her, securing the lock. “Come with me.” she said, giving Tauriel her socks and boots. They would look a bit strange with churidar, though they were passable. Reika made a note to update Tauriel’s wardrobe. The woman couldn’t keep wearing three sets of clothes, and borrow whatever Hunter had left because his were the only ones close to her size.

“Where are we going?” Tauriel asked as Reika prepared to jump.  

“I need to show you something.”  

Reika hit the cobblestones, followed by Tauriel. The vampire led her past the liwan they were staying in on the corner, leaving the motorcycle in its parking space next to the truck. They walked along narrow roads lined with half-dilapidated, cramped buildings, the architecture an amalgamation of various eras. Age-old weathered stone gave way to newer brick-and-mortar, interspersed with colorful mosaics. Boarded up windows and doors were painted with warning signs not to enter, condemned or under construction for restoration.  

A boy darted out from a back alley carrying paper-wrapped scraps from the butcher, with a full-grown rosette-spotted cat in tow. He skirted around the women, avoiding a collision that would have sent him sprawling on the ground. Stammering a hasty apology, he crossed the street ahead of them. The cat matched his pace as it passed just shy of their hips, reaching three feet at the shoulder. It was as long as Ryūsei was tall, from nose to tail.

Tauriel released her grip on Reika’s elbow, having prepared to push the shorter woman behind her in case the animal attacked. The air around them soured with a hint of nervous energy that Reika had come to anticipate from Tauriel in unfamiliar situations. “What was that?” she asked, looking after the cat and the boy as they vanished into the crowd.  

“Onça – jaguar.” Reika translated twice, forgetting the word for cat. “They’re safe.” she added, suspecting Tauriel was concerned about his well-being. The woman frowned, but relaxed somewhat. Tauriel didn’t question Reika after that, although she appeared lost in thought while they walked.  

The vampire took another route to a wooded area, ascending an unmarked staircase nestled beside an oak tree. The ruins on either side of the staircase kept it hidden from view, until they were right in front of it. Each step was covered in orange marigold petals, fallen oak leaves, and the occasional acorn. When they reached the top, rows of densely-packed grave markers covered the wide-open clearing in a labyrinth of headstones. Engraved footstones made up the pathways and low walls designating each zone.

“This is the consequence of our actions against humanity. There are memorials throughout the world, filled with names no one remembers. I probably killed half the people here during the Battle of Courcelles-Laskuráin.” said Reika, gaze darkened as though looking through a veil. “If not me, it would’ve been someone else, and I don’t know how many lives would be lost.”  

Tauriel understood, her mouth a grim line. “You sacrificed yourself.”

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Reika stepped into the fitting room, and pulled the velvet curtain shut. She dropped another stack of clothes on an empty chair for Tauriel to try. The boutique had a limited selection in Tauriel’s size that would fit off the rack, without tailoring. Most garments were made to military specifications, the measurements taken from soldiers in their prime. Tauriel needed a basic wardrobe that would mix-and-match with her current one, without drawing unwanted attention.  

Tauriel tightened her bodice’s lacings over a long-sleeved thermal, checking her reflection in the  three-sided mirror. The woman preferred earth tones to pastels or brighter colors, choosing a variety of black, brown, and green. She undid the bodice, slipping out of the thermal and her dark brown leggings, folding them over the cushioned bench beside the mirror as she placed the shirt in the keep pile.

“You still need a greatcoat.” Reika commented, ducking out of the room to peruse the boutique’s collection of outerwear.  

Near the front of the store, Jin-gyeong flipped through a rack of spring dresses, unsatisfied with maternity clothes. “What’s so hard about finding an empire waist?” she hissed under her breath, scowling when Hunter chuckled, turning a page in the local newspaper. “Shut up! I’d like to see you host a parasite for ten months, and not complain about it.”  

Wesley lowered his coffee cup mid-drink, pursing his lips. “Harsh, but fair.” he said, brows furrowed. Puzzled, he asked, “Since we’re already on the subject... forgive me, if this is too bold, but how exactly did you...? Is it what you want?”  

Jin-gyeong moved to another rack, checking the sizes on the hangers and inside the dresses. “I’m not a blood whore, and I wasn’t forced, if that’s what you’re asking. I married into a lesser house when I was sixteen, because I fell in love. I knew I wanted children someday. It doesn’t make a difference to me if they’re human or dhampyr. Does that satisfy your curiosity?” She rubbed fabric between her fingers to determine its quality, checking the stitching on the seams.  

“Yes. I haven’t met very many people who are tolerant, to say the least. I mostly pursue rogues or fugitives, and they tend not to have family who survived them, children or otherwise.”  

Wesley sipped his coffee, reading over Hunter’s shoulder when a photograph caught his eye, pointedly ignoring Reika. He didn’t acknowledge her quirking an eyebrow and smirking at him, while she browsed the shelves closer to them. The fact that he tried to kill her went unspoken as a rule, something neither Hunter or Tauriel knew about. “So, what brings you all the way from Han-byeol to Ødegård?”

Jin-gyeong peered at a price tag. “Courcelles. I wanted to see the gardens before summer came. My husband promised to meet me there, once he finished business in the city. I’ll have to take a train from the next province, since the rental car’s totaled. That reminds me, I need to call the rental company and my insurance, and my house...” she said, looking towards the door. “I think I saw a payphone across from the bakery. I’ll be right back.” The brass bell above the door chimed as she exited the boutique.

“Rogues and fugitives?” Hunter repeated, rolling his eyes and folding the newspaper in half. “Why am I not surprised? That’s how you know Reika. You hunt together.”  

Wesley took a swig of coffee to stop a sudden bout of hysterical laughter, noticing Reika doubling over with the same affliction. She pretended to crouch in front of a shoe display, leaving Wesley to fend for himself. “Yes.” he managed to get out, sounding calmer than he looked. His entire body tensed up, like a snake prepared to strike. “We do.”  

⚔ ⚔ ⚔

Shoe boxes under one arm, and a greatcoat over her shoulder, Reika stood. The vampire headed back to the fitting room, shaking with mirth. She set the shoes on the floor, and hung the greatcoat on a hook. Tauriel had changed outfits again, testing the give in a pair of jeans to her dissatisfaction. Reika smiled, Tauriel’s frustration amusing her. “You don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to.”  

Tauriel glanced at Reika’s legs, clad in the same jeans she’d worn for the last month. “No? Balija, then.” she decided, indicating the smaller pile of plain and simple, or colorfully embroidered loose and tight-fitting clothes from the other side of the continent. The styles were similar to the clothes she arrived in, consisting of tunics and leggings, allowing greater freedom of movement.  

“Hunter’s going to have a conniption...” Reika said to herself, watching Tauriel sit down to put on another pair of shalwar trousers, a T-shirt, and shoes. Undergarments were easy, when the redhead chose to go without a bra. Her chest was small enough that she didn’t need the extra support from something a bodice provided.

“A what?” Tauriel blinked, confused. She straightened the hem of her shirt, tightening the belt at her waist, rolling her feet in the low-heeled ankle boots. Switching the boots for flats that matched her shalwar, Tauriel added them to the pile. “Is he still mad?” It had only been two days since Cárdenas, and Hunter had yet to open a discussion about his argument with Ryūsei, not for lack of trying on Wesley’s part.  

“I don’t know.” Reika shrugged, peeking through a gap in the curtain to see if Jin-gyeong, Hunter, or Wesley were coming to get them. “Annoyed, upset? He worries about money, sometimes. People notice when you’re wealthy, and we’re trying not to be. I don’t mind buying you clothes, we’ve all been there before. It’s my duty as a lord to provide for the guests in my household.”

Tauriel put on the greatcoat, messing with the cuffs and collar as she turned in front of the mirror. Her auburn braid flowed down her back like a pennant. “Lord? Not lady?”  

“Right. Lady. That’s what I meant.” the vampire said breezily, making a dismissive gesture. “Are you ready to go? We still need to stop by a few more shops to get everything.”