Ed Browne

Incorrect Merlin 2/?

Any sound of movement from the halls always brought Valery to her feet.

It usually meant that some sort of meal was on its way, but she always wanted to be prepared in case this was when they finally took her out. She was always ready to run: to make one last desperate effort to find freedom.

Today, however, it was food that came her way. As soon as it was presented to her, she grabbed it from the tray and ate it as fast she she could. She had no way of knowing just how long it had been since she had had her last meal, but it felt like days.  

It took her a moment to notice him. He had a kind, boyish face and he’d stopped to smile and speak softly to her. He wasn’t at all like the others: they’d all been rough jailers who considered feeding the prisoners to be beneath them. If it had been up to them, they would have all been left to starve. More than once she’d had her bread tossed to her and she’d had to crawl around on her hands and knees in the dark to find it.

He, on the other hand, had brought her food to her on a tray. He lingered a moment to smile and talk to her. He’d even brought a little light with him. Part of her wanted to hug him for it, but most of her was suspicious to find any kindness here. Was this some sort of trap?

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m a pirate.” She replied, eyeing him suspiciously, “Who are you?”

Ed’s eyes widened.  “You’re not one of the pirates from the Revenge, are you?”  He screwed up his eyes, trying to get a better glimpse of her amidst all the dirt and darkness.  He’d heard it often repeated that the crew of the Revenge had, somehow broken into the very palace itself and impersonated nobility, taking the opportunity to attend balls and steal the finery of the guests from under their very noses.  

“Is it true you snuck into the castle and stole the jewelry right off the nobility at the Queen’s ball?” he asked, perhaps a little too eagerly given what a serious crime that was considered to be.  But, then, no one in these cells probably cared what Ed Browne might be thinking.  In general, no one did.

Ed could not be sure if the rumors were true, but if they were, he supposed he might have encountered her, before.  Of course, it would have been the briefest of meetings - merely to take her coat or to offer her a beverage.  At most, they might have exchanged a glance but possibly not even that.  And, of course, there were so many people at these functions...it was enormously difficult to recall faces, but still he wondered.

Regardless, he was meeting her now.

Romayne was surprised (but then amused) to return to his chambers to find a servant boy bending down over his trunk. He took one look at him and he knew that the greatest crime being committed here might was likely only curiosity. There was an innocence and honesty about him: if he truly was stealing from him: Romayne would have half expected him to confess to it right there and then. And his motives for such an act would have only be dire necessity.

Still Romayne couldn’t resist scaring him a little: it had been a long, uneventful day (in a long series of uneventful days). When he first arrived, there was enough to occupy his days from weddings to murders to funerals – but things had leveled out since then and his time as a glorified prisoner was starting to grate on him.

“Do you know what we do to men who try to steal from princes in the Southern Isles?” He asked, striding into the room with an authority he hadn’t exserted since he arrived here. He bent down to the servant’s level, “I would have your skin peeled from your bones.”

He straightened, then, and managed a laugh to lighten the mood. “But we are a far way from the Isles,” And I have no power here, he thought. “Tell me, what was it that so caught your eye?”

Ed felt the air go out of him, his mouth falling open into a gape.  All the same, his imagination took off as he pictured those Southern Islanders being held in arid dungeons, lips parched for water, chapped and bleeding, being led to some grisly site for horrific punishment...Nervously, he laughed.  “I can’t imagine many attempt it, in that case.”  Ed cleared his throat and glanced away.  He was acting guilty.  He knew he was acting guilty.  But he was not.  “Funny, that’s just what Old Tom told me the Queen would do to me for pilfering, the first day I started work here.”  He was still clutching the cloth.  “Good job I’m not a thief, then, eh?”  He laughed.  “I’ve only so much skin to go around,” he added with a bright laugh.  Realized it wasn’t funny.  Shook his head.

Ed broke out into genuine (relieved) laughter at the sound of Romayne’s own chuckle.  “Oh, gods, you, you really had me going there,” he added, pointing at him.  He’d been perfectly serious about Old Tom’s threat.  He wondered, now, if either threat were true.  He decided not to test the theory, regardless.