Chapter Text
She got the same text that all the others got. The formal invite to the annual gathering of the families. Everyone in the bloodlines got it.
Sometimes, she wondered why they bothered sending it to her but she knew the one year they left her out, her father caused such a fuss. That year he ended up forwarding it to her and letting her know she would be attending with them, as usual.
Nevertheless, she packed an overnight suitcase and grabbed her recurve bag. She didn’t need much. It was always a short event. Last year, she didn’t even need to stay overnight. They were gone before the sun peeked over the horizon.
Maybe this time she could lodge her formal complaint to Mr. Le Bail’s lawyer finally…
—
The family that's holding the highest seat of power is always the host. It’s why she’s staring up at the word ‘Danforth’ on the building in front of her. She’s on the front stairs to the sprawling private resort, recurve bag on her shoulder and a hand on her rolling suitcase.
A few of the workers have tried to stop and offer her help but she’s kindly told them no. She’s waiting for her family, after all.
Her phone buzzes with a notification and she pulls it out to glance at it.
Her father. ‘We’re arriving.’
She turns and brushes her hair over her shoulder, watching two black SUVs pull up in front of the steps where she was waiting. Not a few moments later her father is stepping out of the car, her brothers following in the other car.
“Milana! So glad you’re joining us!” her father says with a bright expression.
He’s not usually this cheerful. She knows why he’s actually so happy…
“Hey Lana,” her oldest brother says. The other two are standing alongside him quietly with a sharpness in their eyes that she’s noticing.
This event really brings out the best and worst of all of them.
She sighs and asks, “Where’s mom?”
“She isn’t feeling good so she won’t be joining us,” her father explains. “But we can video call her before things start. She misses you.”
“Hm.” She misses her mother, too, but she won’t admit it to them.
“Mr. Stark,” a woman’s voice says from behind them.
They all turn and look towards the resort building. An older blonde woman is waiting in a clean tan blazer and black slacks, hair in a perfect bun and sunglasses on her face. They all know who she is. She’s one of the members of the other family.
“Ms. Danforth,” her father says as he steps to shake her hand.
“Ursula, please. You’ve known me too long, Mr. Stark.”
“Then I insist on your calling me Howard.”
Ursula laughs and says, “I’ll walk you all to the event room.” She gestures for them to follow her. “Welcome to the resort.”
—
The event room feels more crowded than last year. All six families have gathered for this. Patriarchs and matriarchs, children, and spouses.
A scan of the room has her noticing that even some younger faces are there. Three children are at a small table off to the side where they’re playing a video game. It makes her heart sink. She hopes they’re not participating. They’re so young…
An elderly man in a wheelchair by the large windows turns, Ursula and an older man standing at his sides.
“Your attention, please,” he calls.
The room had been filled with light chatter, people catching up and greeting one another. But it all stops when he speaks. Everyone turns to look at this man. Something about it unsettles her because she never feels like she has a choice when he speaks, but she listens as he starts to speak, nevertheless…
“Welcome to the annual hunt. We do have a few new faces so I will introduce myself. My name is Chester Danforth. I am your current High Seat.” He holds up his hand slowly, showing a gold ring with an oddly indented circle.
“Anything you need, please seek out one of my employees or one of my children who are also in charge of this establishment.” He turns and glances at Ursula, then the man. “Preparations are underway. Each of you may go to your rooms and get ready. Once the sun goes down, the hunt will begin. And yes, we have more this year due to the expanded numbers amongst us.”
Then, one by one, the families are led out of the room by one of Mr. Danforth’s older children to their suites.
Her family is last.
“Mr. Stark,” the male Danforth says.
“Saved the best for last, have we, Titus?” her father said.
A corner of Titus’ mouth raises and he says, “Of course.” He looks over the small family. Of her father, her brothers, and then her.
She keeps still, trying to ignore that he’s staring at them with what she would only call silent judgement before he leads them to their suite.
Right before he leaves, her father stops him. She only hears the mention of a proposition before she’s walking away, off to choose her bed before her brothers choose one in the best spot.
—
The annual hunt is a time for the families to shed blood, to pay tribute and revitalize for the year under their contracts with Mr. Le Bail.
And they’re all more than willing to do it. Almost eagerly signing their full name in the ledger as dusk falls.
Lana is not different. She signs her name after her twin brothers.
‘Milana Renee Stark’.
Once everyone has signed and the sun is gone, everyone draws their weapons and heads outside. Chester Danforth sounds a loud horn, signaling the start.
All the family members set off towards the trees of the resort. Most on foot, a few on golf carts or ATVs.
Lana lets out a breath and fixes her quiver, already feeling frustrated. Her task, as set by her father, is to stay by the main hall of the resort. To call out those she may see and pick off stragglers or, as he said, “Anyone stupid enough to try to enter the building.”
She waits for two hours, bored out of her skull and stretching or practicing the drawback on her recurve bow that hasn’t left her hand since the horn sounded.
Slowly, everyone makes their way back and someone mentions that there was one missing as they all take time to hydrate or wipe themselves of blood.
“Find them before the sun rises,” Chester booms. “The rules are simple.”
Lana glances at her brothers who are covered in dirt and blood and turns up her lip. “My Milana,” her father says, causing her to turn and glance at him where he’s sitting. He looks tired. Age is catching up to him and it’s showing during these annual hunts. “Go.”
She nods and is the first out the doors, taking the initiative and opportunity while the others are regathering themselves.
She misses the interested sets of eyes that watch her exit.