Chapter Text
“Oh FUCKING LEEKU, YES!” Cleo screamed out as the man leaned over her, sweat clinging between their bodies. His pale, scarred chest pressing into her olive back, his hands grasping her by the breasts as he filled her to her climax. It was the evening of Cleo’s first night behind bars and this was exactly what she needed. She had been pent up for weeks and all the action she’d gotten so far was a few chaste kisses from that disgustingly cute paladin at that inn two nights ago. Blowing off steam like this was a welcome distraction from everything that had changed so far.
Life was easy before the Mansion. Easy before Dimension Jump. Just had to chase her bliss. Was it better? Debatable. Was she better? Definitely not. But waking up with eye candy like Storm, Nova and Jasper had its benefits. Even if Nova’s incessant and completely adorable need to help everyone had them keep… questionable other traveling-companions. They were good friends, which only strengthened the fact that her and Edward were never true friends. Fire arced across her fingers as she looked down. But damn, did she have less questions in the past.
“The fuck is a Lee-”
“Shut up Rick,” Cleo quickly retorted, slamming her foot heel first down on him, and then shifting to face him, kneeing him in the groin. Satisfied.
“We had an agreement, no questions,” she pouted, pulling up her pants and fastened her belt. The man held his crotch gingerly as he leaned over. He wasn’t ugly by any stretch. Most would call him handsome. But really, he was just a means to an end. A meek half elf guard who was in on the truth of her imprisonment and her goal of protecting the family she got in trouble. Easy to push around and shut up the all encompassing sense of dread that losing her freedom filled her with. She almost felt sorry for tricking Edward into serving a prison sentence for her. Almost .
He pouted in retort as Cleo took Thief's Light, and hid it in a place, sheathed, between her breasts as she adjusted her bra and her top. She sighed, getting down on her knees for several minutes until another climax came.
Spitting into a bucket, she looked over her shoulder. “Guess, I should get back... thanks for this.”
He kinda stared absent-mindedly and deadly silent as he escorted her back to her cell. Across from her was the elf boy and his family. She gave a reassuring smile as the bars closed in front of her. The real fun began now.
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She slept light. Every. Time. No matter the sound, if someone or something stirred, she sat up. She would awaken Thief’s Light at the ready, scanning as the dull magic light illuminated the area for her, but not for any potential foes. Thankfully, the first night was simple. Nothing unexpected. She managed, barely, to eek out a full night’s rest despite the constant rousing. It was tough, but seeing the look of relief when she gazed across cells to Attis made it sort of worth it. Still, she had to quickly send a new message to Nova. Holding the sending stone close she whispered.
“Safe. No danger. Feeling better. Hope you all haven’t replaced me. This was the right choice. Don’t miss me too much. And please don’t die.”
“Cleo? Are you listening at all!?”
Cleo shook her head. She wasn’t in her cell. She was in an office, sitting in front of a desk. The guard who gave her this cursed job across from her. Cleo gritted her teeth annoyed. The walls hummed with the same silence spell. She drummed her fingers on the arm, slinking deeper into the chair.
“Not, particularly.”
The head guard spat in frustration slamming a fist into the wood desk before her. “How the hell did you even pull off that job. Is keeping you in my cells even worth the time?!” She barked and Cleo’s eyes couldn’t roll any more if she tried.
“I know how to keep an eye on a mark. This time I’m just protecting it.”
“Yes, but things have changed. Supposedly an assassin has been reported lurking around the prison. We have reason to believe he, she, or they intend to finish the job failed with the burned down house they blamed on you . Furthermore, there’s talk about having you transferred to a high-security prison protected using Silver Key methods. I don’t know how long I can keep you safe. A representative of the same people who have been stirring up the discourse in town is also supposedly inspecting me and my men. I need you to be on your best behaviour. Do. You. Understand?” the guard captain monologued.
Cleo counted the cracks in the ceiling. Sighing ever so slightly she said, rather meekly, “yes mam.” Her expression darkened as she considered the impact that the blame of that fire would have on her reputation. An assassin didn’t worry her. Nothing she couldn’t cut down.
“Good. Now get out!” She demanded slamming her fist and the dampening spell dissipated.
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“Literal. Actual. Gruel!” Cleo commented as she spooned a gray mush from her plate to her mouth. The spoon was far too thick and could easily be morphed into a stake to stab someone’s eyes out, she mentally observed as she suckled on the nothing-tasting mush. It would almost be edible if it wasn’t for the gods awful texture. Gagging ever so slightly she looked at the still mostly silent elven family. Attis’s parents hadn’t taken kindly to her, but they seemed to tolerate her company due to her displays in their yard and success in coaxing Attis into coming into this faux imprisonment and protective custody.
She poked Attis on the nose, rubbing some gruel over his face. “Cheer up kid. Couple more days, and we’ll be out of here. Trust me.” she followed up, leaning in close and whispering, making sure no one else but him and his family heard. As Cleo started blowing a raspberry while leaning back, the young elf let out a slight chuckle.
“Fuck.”
“Language,” Attis' mother reprimanded.
“We’re in Jail mom, bit late for that. But damn, this stuff makes me miss the moldy bread and fungal cheese at the orphanage.” Cleo finished.
“You were an Orphan? But your-” Attis began, pointing at Cleo’s signet ring.
“Yeah, it’s a long, Fae-run story. But the nitty gritty is I forced a nobleman to adopt me, then he got sick, and died.” Cleo replied in a memory-drunk daze. She fidgeted with the ring, twisting it on her finger lost in thought for just a moment.
Before anyone could comment though. A man walked by, and took Cleo’s spoon from her hand. An orcish man with sunken eyes. He smashed the Spoon into the table, splintering as it pierced the wood, pinning a small note into place. Guards quickly began escorting him away as Cleo examined the note. Written on the note were 3 words.
BOY DIES TONIGHT.
End of Chapter 1