The Quenchiest

Restraints:

For now, he sat limply in his seat, letting his muscles rest after the long trip to reach this point. Dahlia would be sleeping for some time still, and while Roderic didn’t want to continuously drug her, there were options to keep her sleeping for longer if he needed that time to recover. A last resort, for him.

He glanced around the carriage, ensuring the windows were all covered by curtains. It would be easier to tell when the sun rose, the black of night made it more difficult with nothing to instantly give away a crack left overlooked. His red eyes moved to the pile of clothing sitting next to him on the bench. He was going to need to dress Dahlia in something other than what she arrived in, and a fine dress had been provided. Gilbert probably picked it himself, if Roderic had to guess.

A frown touched his lips and soon his teeth met his bottom lip to lightly worry at it. There were no shoes. He looked from the dress to Dahlia lying across from him, taking mental note of how many garments she was not wearing, sporting a night robe and a cloak and nothing else. He sighed inwardly. He knew it couldn’t be helped. He hadn’t expected her to arrive in her room with the First Prince carrying her in his arms. He certainly hadn’t expected to bear witness to their activities. He was lucky for the window where he had apparently not alerted anyone. But now that she was in his care and wearing next to nothing… He’d just have to close his eyes, he supposed.

Wrists rolled and fingers flexed, loosening stiff muscles and joints. Roderic stretched as well as he could in the coach in an attempt to prevent further fatigue later. He ran his hands over the dress, examining the make of it to ensure he wouldn’t be fumbling around while Dahlia was half-clothed– or not clothed at all, he thought as he reminded himself she was practically nude already. Another inward sigh. He didn’t want to see Gilbert upset, and this hiccup in their plan could be the thing that upset him.

Carefully removing Dahlia’s additional cloak he had wrapped her in, Roderic tugged her night robe around her as tight as it would allow. It wasn’t a thick material which would allow him to use it to keep her covered as he added the skirts and blouse to her body. He had never dressed another person, and Dahlia’s light form was easier to manage than he had previously thought it would be. Roderic had handled plenty of corpses - cleaning up messes when they needed disposing of - so he was used to the stiff, heaviness of dead weight. Dahlia, on the other hand, was pliant and… dare he call her soft?

She was soft, though. There was no doubt about that. Her curves and even her skin had a delicate feel to them like the fine cloth he was fitting her into. Her hands lacked any calluses - she wasn’t a laborer - and while he couldn’t see her body clearly– didn’t want to see her body, she didn’t seem to have any scars of note, either. She wasn’t the type of person he was used to being this close to.

He paused in his dressing of her, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t figured out a way to remove her arms from the sleeves of her robe, and also get them in her new dress without exposing her. She was half put-together, the skirts of the dress set over the thin robe, but now he still had the blouse to fit. Cursing silently, Roderic contemplated the problem while holding Dahlia against him so she could sit upright.

The horses’ hooves beat on the well worn dirt road outside, marking the time that had passed as Roderic came up with complex solution after solution, each one failing in practicality. Finally hanging his head in defeat, Roderic whispered his apology to the unconscious Dahlia and stripped the robe from her. He kept his eyes downcast, trying to use his peripheral vision to adjust her as needed. It wasn’t more than a minute or two before he had her fully clothed and was lacing up the back of her dress.

A relieved breath flew out of him as he tucked Dahlia onto the cushioned bench. It wasn’t long enough for her to stretch out, but at least it was padded. Another thought crossed his mind: would it be more disorientating to wake up laying down or sitting up after being abducted? Perhaps he should set her up in the corner. It would be less comfortable, though, and a higher chance of her shifting or falling from a bump in the road or any other reason.

He scooped up the discarded robe, folding it several times into a small makeshift pillow for her and gently laid it under her head. The cloak he had covered her with on their escape from the palace was put back on her as a blanket and loosely tucked to keep it from falling off. Roderic gave her one last, long appraising look before he was confident he did the best job he could and slouched back into the open seat opposite of his charge.

If everything was going as planned, they should be near the palace again very soon. The guests who can travel or were not given accommodations would be leaving the ball, and then wagons would be filtering out in every direction, allowing them to blend in as just another pair of guests who had an exhausting night.

Though his body sat limply in the seat, his nerves were wound tight, anticipating the slightest disruption that could take place. It would do no good to keep his whole body tense and ready to spring, he was aware of his reaction times and they were impressive compared to most other combatants. He was among the top five in Obsidian according to the Emperor. He wasn’t sure where that placement was in Rhodolite, or against a Rhodolite prince, but he also hoped he’d never have to find out.

It wasn’t long before the horses' steady beating of hooves turned to clip-clopping as they reached the paved roads approaching the palace and the capitol. The rhythmic sound was a comfort to Roderic, knowing that as long as it continued, there was no threat to his master’s plan.

A second set of hoofbeats sounded in the distance, growing louder as the other vehicle approached and trundled past, heading the way they had come from. Another fortuitous sign. At this time of night, there wouldn’t be many random people on the roads save for those leaving the palace. If one carriage was anything to judge by, the ball had continued and guests were now taking their leave.

His eyes moved to Dahlia asleep on the opposite bench. Gilbert had had a fascination with her since he was still a teen boy. For many, many years, there had been someone keeping an eye on her safety, unbeknownst to her. Then, nearly a year ago, she was brought to the palace as Belle. Gilbert, and all the surrounding countries, were aware of their practices, and so the thought was that after a month she would be returned to her old life.

That didn’t happen. Instead, she stayed at the palace, and as reports began to filter back to Obsidian, Gilbert (and he) had learned she was training to be a court minister. It didn’t please Gilbert to hear that, but the king had yet to be announced as passed, and there was no viable way for Gilbert to check on her himself. Two months later, Rhodolite’s king’s passing was made public. Two months after that, Chevalier was announced to be the next king crowned.

Then the preparations for the coronation along with invitations, and ample time for guests to accept and make arrangements– each week passing was another week his master was closer to death. Until, finally, the time had come to rescue the young woman Gilbert had known from the atrocities of nobility. From the Rhodolite king, himself. Roderic just hoped that this would give Gilbert the desire to keep on living - having the woman he loves protected and close by.

If not… what was it all for?

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Dahlia could hear something thumping in the distance. It was muffled, but repetitive. It wasn’t like a knock on her room’s door, it didn’t seem to have an end. The noise continued its pounding, pulling her out of the murky darkness of sleep that clung to her like tar. Her eyes wouldn’t open at first. She felt like she wasn’t yet ready to wake up, stuck in some limbo where she was slowly becoming more aware of the waking world, yet her body wanted to continue to rest.

Her eyes cracked open. The world was unfocused. It was dark, maybe the middle of the night? Blackness swelled behind her eyelids as they fell shut again. She was struggling. The solid clunking continued, and finally she could place what it reminded her of: horses. Once again she forced her eyes open, and hazily the night welcomed her. She tried to roll, finding herself cramped with her legs bent in a bed that was too small and not wide enough as her hands found the edges of the bench she was sleeping on.

Her thoughts were muddled, slowly crawling through the thick fog that dulled her senses. It took her several long seconds to push herself to a sitting position as she tried to make sense of her blurry surroundings.

The bed was too small because it was a cushioned seat, not a bed.

The horse hooves being muted but continuous were the horses pulling the carriage she was in. Somehow she must have fallen asleep in it. What was she even doing before she fell asleep?

Her eyes wandered the small car, landing on the person sitting across from her. Someone - maybe a man - cloaked with a hood pulled over his face– Dahlia gasped, her lungs freezing and refusing to let the air that she just pulled in release.

Her heart galloped faster than the horses outside. Pounding heavily against her ribs.

She was in her room and now she wasn’t.

She was at the palace, and now she wasn’t.

Someone had covered her mouth.

Someone had brought her here.

Someone was sitting across from her.

Dahlia couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or awake. She couldn’t see his face. He hadn’t moved after she noticed him. He hadn’t said anything. As quietly as she could, she let her breath out in tiny little huffs, adrenaline coursing through her making it difficult to keep her breathing steady. She was trembling. She was terrified. Slowly, she inched her legs off the bench to set her feet on the floor, her eyes glued to the hooded man, watching for any movement from him at all.

Roderic watched as Dahlia began to shift and move, finally coming around from the drugging. She looked confused and dazed, like she was trying to get her bearings, and Roderic thought it’d be best if she was thinking clearly before he made himself known. But her eyes landed on him and he saw the way she took in a sharp breath. He could feel the fear on her as she stared at him. He could see the way she shakily inched to sit up fully, trying not to upset the cloak that was laid over her as a blanket.

He had waited too long.

“....I was hoping to save you from a fright.” He tried to start his words quietly, speaking in his usual slow cadence.

Dahlia jumped so violently as soon as the stranger spoke that she lifted off her seat. She was certain she felt her heart stop, leaping out of her chest, only to roughly smack back to life beating even faster and harder than before. Her breathing was shallow and quick and she blinked several times, seeing spots dancing around her vision.

“Seven hells! It’s a little late for that!” She threw her hand to her chest, trying to calm herself.

“I’m sorry…” Roderic glanced away, guiltily, though Dahlia could only tell he moved his eyes away by the way his head turned slightly.

Her fingers felt the lace lining her dress, and her focus was pulled away from Roderic as she looked down at what she was wearing. She had never seen a dress like it, it wasn’t something she owned. And she hadn’t been wearing… anything before… Dahlia snapped her head up to look at Roderic, suddenly aware she was in different clothing.

“Did you dress me? ” Her words squeaked out.

“I didn’t see anything, I assure you.” Roderic answered.

Dahlia’s head was spinning, her thoughts reeling. A sudden headache pounded at the back of her skull and behind her eyes. This was all too much. She had clearly been kidnapped, dressed, and was being taken somewhere in a fine dress, in a moderately comfortable coach, and her guard was assuring her that he hadn’t looked at her body at all. It was bizarre. Not that she wanted to be violated, but what kind of kidnapper apologizes after scaring her? And the first thing he said was he didn’t want to frighten her?

Roderic pulled a water skin out from a pack, lifting it between the two of them so Dahlia could see. “Would you like some water?”

Before Dahlia could answer, he opened the skin and tipped his head back, giving her a glimpse of his mouth and chin as he poured some of the water into his mouth, drinking it himself. She eyed him warily, but it seemed he had drunk some to show it wasn’t poisoned or laced with anything.

“Why?” She shook her head slightly. “Why are you being kind to me?”

Roderic hadn’t expected the question, and thus wasn’t expecting to have to answer something like that. Was he being kind? No. He wasn’t being cruel either, did that equate to kindness for her? He reached across the small distance separating the two of them, offering her the water skin. “... I’m just offering water. You’ve been out for several hours. You must be thirsty.”

Dahlia slowly reached out, apprehension showing in her movements as she accepted the skin and pushed herself back out of reach of Roderic. She hastily gulped down a few mouthfuls of water, making sure to keep her gaze on her captor. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and tucked the water skin next to her for later. “Where are we going?”

“Away.” Roderic gave a vague answer.

“I’m aware of that.” Dahlia said flatly. Her eyes trailed to the window by her seat, the curtain over it pulled tightly closed. She glanced at Roderic, but he made no move to stop her if he had seen the gears turning in her head, and while keeping an eye out for his movement, she pulled the curtain back to expose the night scenery.

It honestly could have been anywhere. It looked like any other landscape away from the city she knew, the moon hanging in the sky and trees spotting the horizon. She had no idea if they were going north, or south, or east, or west. Rhodolite didn’t have much in the way of natural landmarks, and “several hours” meant they were still within the kingdom.

“I understand you won’t feel comfortable around me, or trust me for some time. But I’m not going to hurt you.” Roderic’s voice tore Dahlia’s eyes from the window to land on him once again.

“How am I to believe that when you kidnapped me?”

Her pointed question was met with silence.

“Okay, why did you kidnap me?” Dahlia attempted a different angle, hoping for more than a ‘because’ from the stranger who had yet to introduce himself.

Again, he said nothing.

She sighed, looking out the window again. The horses would eventually have to rest, perhaps she could get a better gauge on where they were by that point. And one or the both of them would eventually need to use the toilet, they’d probably be near another town by that point. That would work in her favor. It’s not like they can kidnap her in broad daylight without consequences. She’d just have to wait until daylight for that…

Though, now that she was thinking about running, she looked down at the floor near her seat, searching for shoes. She wasn’t wearing any when she woke up, which made sense, but there didn’t seem to be a pair for her to wear either. “Do I not get shoes?”

“That was an oversight… It will be corrected.” Roderic must have glanced away again with the way his head slightly shifted to his right.

What a strange abduction this was. He was going to get her a pair of shoes, which only increased the chance of her running. He was treating her like a well-to-do hostage, and she was anything but noble and rich. There was no reason for him to go to these lengths for someone like her. Maybe he didn’t actually know who she was and this was some mistake? The thought sent a chill through her. What would happen if he found out she came from common birth?

Dahlia straightened her back, pulling her shoulders back to look as noble as she could manage. She peered at Roderic from the corner of her eye, pretending to still be looking out the window. “It would be easier to trust you if you answered my questions.”

“My apologies. I can’t say.”

He had sounded honest and genuine in everything so far. If he wasn’t able to say, that meant he was given express orders to not. Dahlia turned her attention back on him. “Why not? Do you not know, or are you attempting to limit information for negotiation purposes?”

Roderic watched her, feeling her clever, clear eyes on him. If she could see his face, if she could make eye contact with him, he was sure that she’d be able to see some of the answers she sought. He also was aware she was attempting to goad him into spilling details that would help her if she were to try to escape. If he had told her where they were headed, she could figure out which way was back to the palace. If he told her how important she was to his master, she would likely take more risky actions knowing she was protected from the consequences.

It would be safer for her - and everyone - if she complied until after they had crossed the border. The horses could last that long, it was roughly 6 hours from the palace to the closest place Obsidian and Rhodolite touched. Once there, no one would attempt to rescue her. She would be a guest of the Imperial family, and to disobey the Imperial family meant death.

Seemingly frustrated by his silence, Dahlia turned to look out the window again. The night had reached its apex and was waning towards morning. It would be a few hours still until the sun started to light the sky, and by then they should be near or in Obsidian.