Trigger Warning: There are intense scenes with attempted sexual abuse
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Bastian walked out of the tavern in haste. After two hours he'd finally gotten the information he needed. He nearly sprinted over the wooden boards to where Tree was tied.
"Alright, Hydrangea…" His voice stoped when he saw that she wasn't on the horse. He walked around the brown animal and saw that she wasn't there either.
His pulse pounded in his ears. He wanted to call her name but it might alert whoever had taken her. His blood boiled in rage, 'If they so much as laid a finger on her…' He opened his eyes and revealed that they were as black as the night sky above him, 'Blood will be spilt tonight.'
He drew his sword and walked down the road, his footfalls purposeful as he followed her boot tracks.
His head shot up when he heard a strangled sound.
He charged towards the dark alley that it had come from. His shadow stretched the length of it. His grip on his blade tightened when he saw the profile of a man's back, crouched between two pale legs.
His hands shook with rage and he took three long strides forward and plunged his sword into the man's right shoulder.
He yelled in pain and fell back away from Hydrangea. He glanced her way, her face had forming bruises and bloodstains. He couldn't survey her body further for fear of what he'd find.
He looked down at the man who still had a sword in his shoulder. With hatred boiling inside of him he shoved the man against the wall, "Did you touch her?!" He yelled, "If you did, Samadur help me, I will make your death as painful as possible."
The man spat blood on him and Bastian reared back in disgust.
"I hadn't even the time to get hard." He spoke in a slurred Viskogorny accent, the stench of vodka on his breath.
Bastian dug the sword deeper into his shoulder. Although he felt a sliver of relief at what the man had said, his entire being still burned in pure rage.
"What? I did not even touch her!" The man screamed and Bastian let go of his shoulder only to punch him in his greasy, bearded jaw.
"No? Then how did my wife come to lay beneath you, her hair soaked with blood?" He spat in a quiet tone, his voice shaking with emotion.
"I-I didn't mean to-"
"You didn't mean to what?" He pulled the sword from his shoulder and flipped him into his back, pressing the man's potbelly down with his boot, "You're saying that you weren't going to rape my wife?!"
"I-I-I-"
Bastian's eyes churned with disgust and loathing, "Get out of my sight, you filth." His voice was eerily calm and the man quaked in fear beneath his boot.
"Th-thank y-you, my-my-my lord. I will forever be in your debt." He said in a relieved, shaking voice.
Bastian's already dark expression darkened further and he pointed his sword between the man's eyes, "If you ever do anything like this again, I will remove your manhood."
The man shook and began blubbering, "N-no, m-my lord. Of c-course, my-my lord. I'll n-not touch a woman again."
Bastian fought the bile that attempted to rise in his throat. With utter repulsion and hatred on his face he watched as the drunk sped from the alley.
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After the revolting man had fled away from him, Bastian turned and rushed towards Hydrangea. The guilt and fear, the pain that enveloped him made his hands tremble as he pulled her skirts down and cradled her in his arms.
There was a bloody wound on the crown of her head, her left temple was bruised, and he was sure the rest of her was too. He held her close, almost fearing that she would run away because he'd been unable to save her, unable to protect her.
He picked her up gingerly and kissed her forehead before he made his way to where Tree was. He set her unconscious body on top of the saddle, and climbed on after her.
She whimpered and he looked down at her in concern. Her face was scrunched up as though she was in pain. He couldn't search for the source of it while they sat on the horse, so he sped away from the wretched village.
Looking behind him, as he rode through the bitter cold, he could see the faint fires lit in the windows. He clutched Hydrangea closer, he'd been so afraid he'd lost her.
She should've listened to him, stayed with Tree. He knew that she hadn't, he knew that for some reason, her stubborn nature had prompted her to go to the tavern. He held her close and drove the horse to its limits as he sped as far away from the village as possible.
He remembered which way the bartender had told him to go and he led the horse 'round those trails.
The moon shone no light down on him and Samadur's words drifted through his mind, "… Something dark."
He looked down at Hydrangea, her pale but bruising face making his heart clench. This was what he had meant. And it had happened while his guard was up, while he wasn't guarding Hydrangea.
He closed his eyes against the wind and felt the warm sting of tears. But he didn't let more than one fall. Tucking Hydrangea's hood more tightly around her face he spurred Tree on once more.
Coming to the swell of a mountain he climbed a few cliffs until he found one that spanned wide enough to hold their camp. He settled Hydrangea down on the smooth rock and held her cheek cherishingly for a few moments before he began to pitch the tent.
As soon as he'd laid down several layers of blankets and furs, gifts from the Premier, he carried Hydrangea into the refuge.
With care he cleaned her head wound and became he couldn't help himself he checked on her ankle. He grimaced when he saw the torn flesh. He wrapped it with as much care as her head wound and then secured her beneath the blankets.
He couldn't sleep, he wouldn't sleep for fear of Hydrangea being hurt again, for fear of letting his guard down once more.