[ The dragon cries out in frustration, a gout of flame erupting from its mouth straight up into the sky. Because, you know, sometimes you just have to remind folks how god damn scary you are. ]
[ He's just starting to turn when she grabs him, and, right. Kisses are great. It's just too damn bad this one is a you'd better not die kiss and not, you know, a sexy one.
He runs in the opposite direction, nocking an arrow and aiming it at the creature's underbelly. He doesn't stop long enough to take careful aim, just lets it loose as he runs. The arrow hits, nonetheless, though as Peter figured, it doesn't do much more damage than a quick nick to its hide before bouncing away.
It does however, have the intended effect of making the creature turn towards him, and Peter has to leap to avoid the blast of fire it sends his way. The snow turns to steam, and Peter's pretty sure the moisture clinging to his clothes is going to fucking freeze when they get out of this. He jumps back to his feet and repeats the process, firing as he runs. ]
[ Maya would be loath to admit it, but she holds onto their link like a lifeline, because as long as she can feel it, she knows that he's still with her. (She might actually resent Lilith, just a little, for asking something like this of them, but if s Siren isn't any match for a dragon, then what is?)
The dragon whirls around to try and find Peter, and Maya dashes in, dodging the beast's feet and claws and lashing tail, getting underneath its belly. When it rears back again to let loose another stream of fire, she comes up, planting both her hands on its chest. The dragon's hide begins to smoke and sizzle as her magic eats through it.
There's a brief second where it sounds like the dragon is choking on its fire, as it sputters and coughs, but that quickly gives way to a roar of pain. It claws at its chest, trying to remove the source of the pain, and Maya has to duck away to avoid being slashed to ribbons.
The wound on the dragon's chest is still smoking, but it wasn't enough. She'll need to do it again if she wants to get through to the soft flesh beneath the dragon's hide. ]
[ The fact that Maya is still dashing around and hasn't signaled him to fire is instruction enough -- he needs to keep the creature distracted, still. ]
Hey! Over here, maggot brains!
[ He lets loose another arrow, this time catching it in the sensitive flesh just beneath its recently blinded eye. He has a satisfying moment to appreciate the trueness of his aim before he's dashing off again.
The dragon screams out in pain and anger once again, lurching forward on all fours. It whips its tail in the last place he heard Peter, and Peter is forced to drop and slide on his knees beneath it. He regains his footing soon enough though and is on the run again in hardly any time at all. ]
[ She sees that, the way he keeps moving, dodging the beast's flailing tail, and she has to smile to herself. If he dares to try and tell her he's useless ever again, she'll remind him of this moment.
But there's no time to dwell, and she's on the move again. The dragon had opened itself up to attack again after trying to strike at Peter with its tail. She darts in, planting her hands on the dragon's chest again. It screams and fails, but she maintains her hold, pouring as much of her magic as she can into eating through its hide.
One of its claws catches her between the shoulder blades, and if she hadn't already felt pain once, thanks to the incident with Peter's pendant, the sudden sharp stab of it would have shocked her. As it is, she can feel blood seeping into her dress, traveling down her back in a slow trickle. Even Sirens, it seems, are not impervious to harm.
She grits her teeth, willing herself to keep going, until at last, the dragon's own blood seeps over her hands as her acid bites into its flesh. It's boiling to the touch and she withdraws her hands with a yelp. The dragon must have heard that, because the next swipe of its claws do not miss- it bats her away fiercely, and she goes careening into the snow. ]
[ He feels the echo of pain when the dragon's claw slices into her back -- just pressure, mostly, a dull feeling that makes him stumble with surprise.
And then he turns to see her falling, and he cries out her name, raw and terrified. And suddenly the dragon is bearing down on her, and Peter yanks an arrow from his quiver, firing at the monster's chest. One after another after another at a relentless pace as he rushes forward to Maya's side. Peter's deaf to the dragon's screams of agony as each of his shots finds its mark, burying deep into the dragon's weakened hide.
At last the dragon collapses, its blood turning the snow to steam and mist. Peter doesn't bother checking if the thing is dead or if it's even on its way, though, instead shouldering his bow and kneeling beside Maya. ]
Hey-- [ oh fuck, he's scared. He's so terrified, and his hands shake as he reaches out to her. ] Hey, c'mon, now's not the time for resting, alright?
[ Everything hurts in ways she didn't know were possible.
She's conscious, but barely so. Her head is swimming from the impact and the blood loss and god dammit why does everything hurt so much?
Whatever blood was left on her hands when she went flying melted the snow away, washing them clean, and leaving her skin raw and angry red from the burns. The back of her dress is soaked with blood, and she tries to bite back a whimper of pain when he touches her.
Shut up. [ he bites it out because god he's never been so scared in his life because she's hurt, she's hurt, and she's bleeding and he couldn't protect her, and he wishes he could've spent the rest of his life thinking Maya was untouchable, indestructible. ]
-- Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean that. I--
[ Stop it, Quill, he tells himself, and he grunts in frustration. He throws off his bow and quiver, pulls off his coat, yanks his knife from its hidden sheath in his boot. With his knife in hand, he starts tearing strips away from his coat to make bandages for her wounds. ]
Stay awake, okay? Can you do that for me? Just stay awake, and when we get back to the inn you can rest all you want.
[ Her brow furrows, and it takes her longer than it should to realize that she should probably be bothered by the way he snaps at her.
She can't quite muster the energy for it, though.
Instead she cranes her head to try and watch him, forcing his figure to come into focus. Stay awake. Right. She can do that. She doesn't need to sleep. ]
Dead. [ his movements are mechanical as he tears the strips; he tries for a smile, but it's hesitant and wavering. ] Or as good as. You really did a number on it.
This might hurt, alright? [ which is all the warning she gets before he's pressing one of the strips of cloth to the wound on her back. And the sight of her blood staining the makeshift bandage crimson makes his heart freeze before he presses another against it, trying to staunch her bleeding. ]
[ she wants to argue, to tell him that he did just as much, if not more, than she did, but she's unprepared for how much the pressure on the wound on her back hurts. She winces, but it turns into an outright cry, because her first inclination was to tense up and clench her fists, which makes her burned hands bloom with pain all over again.
She is really bad at this being hurt thing.
There's a long moment where she struggles to breathe, struggles to focus. ]
Need... need its heart... need to... get me to... to Lilith.
[ Those were possibly supposed to be two separate thoughts, but it all just sort of came out at once. ]
[ he grimaces at her cry, and he just mutters apology after apology, useless as they are. Fuck, he wishes they could switch places right now, because it's killing him to see her in so much pain, and at least she could use her magic on him.
Right now they have to make do with the old fashioned way, and Peter is hardly a healer.
He's moving to wrap her hands when she speaks, and he pauses briefly. He thinks he understands -- at least, he hopes he does. ]
Fuck the heart. [ he says it with heat as he works at bandaging her hands. ] That can wait. Or we'll make them send someone else to cut it out. You're at the top of my list right now.
[ She doesn't really reply, outside of sharp noises of pain through clenched teeth as he bandages her hands. She doesn't have it in her to argue. She just wants it to stop hurting ]
Hey-- [ He reaches out to cup her cheek, but his hands are covered in blood (hers, her blood, god, her blood). He stops just short and pulls back. ]
You're doing great, Maya. It's gonna be alright. We'll get you fixed up. Just stay with me, okay?
[ He feels like he's going to be sick, for a moment, god, she's so hurt. He swallows down that urge to lash out at something, instead focusing on Maya. ]
I need to sit you up. I need to secure the bandage for your back, alright?
[ She nods, managing a weak "mm-hmm". She tries to grope for his arm, but her hands are little more than pain wrapped in bandages- which at this point aren't doing much more than keeping the cold air from stinging. She swears under her breath ]
You're doing great, love, just hold on-- [ And he keeps up his little chant of gentle encouragements and reassurances as he's securing the bandage in place, but fuck, she's pale and in pain, and he wishes he could take it all from her. ]
We're gonna head back, alright? Then you can sleep all you want, but not until then, okay? Gonna need you awake to keep me company.
[ She tries for a smile, though it's a frail, pained thing. She'll hold out as long as she can, but it's safe to say that by the time they reach the city, unconsciousness will have taken her. She goes limp in his arms, her breathing shallow and ragged. ]
[ The second she stops responding to his little questions (still with me? still awake?), Peter quietly freaks the hell out. The only thing that keeps him from losing his goddamn mind entirely is the fact that she's breathing, that he can still feel their connection.
He pushes himself as hard as he can, trudging through snow and wind, and by the time they reach Sanctuary, his whole body just feels tired and frozen and numb. But he refuses to hand her over to anyone, drags the two of them directly to Lilith and Roland. There's rage in his eyes and blood soaking his clothing and covering his hands, and god, he's so angry and terrified, and Maya's too silent and still in his arms--
He catches Lilith's gaze, and he wants to be angry at her and Roland, he really does. He wants to rage and yell and trash the room, but, no, not now. After. ]
Help her. [ And he's begging, eyes stinging and entire body trembling, and god, he would trade anything for Maya to be better. He hasn't begged like this in ages. He didn't beg for his life when the Ravagers came. He didn't beg when they punished him for mistakes.
The last time he begged like this, he was a child staring into his mother's empty eyes, pleading for her to just get up, please, please-- ]
[ He doesn't have to ask twice. Lilith actually lets out a startled gasp when she sees Maya, and instantly turns to Roland, gaze pleading.
For a split second, Roland looks like he has about a dozen questions, but he decides they don't matter at the moment. He motions for Peter to follow him, and he leads him to a bedroom just down the hall his office.
"Lay her down," he says, as he begins rifling through a trunk at the end of the bed. He pulls out a sword with a red jewel on the pommel, still safe inside its sheath. In one fluid motion he draws it free and drives it into the stone floor beside the bed. The blade rings with the impact, but seems unharmed. "I know this will be difficult, but you need to stand back."
He ushers Peter a step back from the bed, and when they're clear, the jewel on the hilt of the sword glows. The glow flows over the bed in an arc, covering Maya in a shimmering bubble of soft red light. Her breathing evens out by degrees, and in a few short moments, she appears to be merely sleeping. "It'll heal her, but it will take time."
"I'm sorry," comes from Lilith, who's been standing quietly in the doorway for this whole ordeal. There's something like sorrow in her voice. "I didn't mean for this to happen." ]
Edited (apparently I can't type coherently and watch GoT at the same time) 2015-01-17 06:55 (UTC)
[ He follows behind Roland and follows his direction (because what other option does he have?), but he tenses and steps forward the second he pulls out that sword. (What the hell are you doing? What more damage could you possibly do?)
But-- she looks better, relaxed, and his panic ebbs.
Which just leaves exhaustion. Just leaves rage. ]
Sure.
[ His hands clench into fists, but his fingers are slick with blood -- some of it fresh, some of it partially dried -- and the feeling just serves as a reminder.
Fuck, he refuses to look at Lilith, because if he does, he'll do something really stupid and suicidal -- that if they didn't kill him for it, Maya surely would. He keeps his gaze on Maya's sleeping form, watching her face for any signs of discomfort.
Still, his voice is filled with bitterness, wavering and thick and filled with as much venom as he can muster. ]
Just send a single Siren and a random dude to deal with a fucking dragon.That's sure to end well. That's a reasonable way to deal with that fucking problem.
It's dead, by the way. And, hey, thanks for all of your guys' help in taking it down. Your buddy can head up there at his leisure. He can rip its fucking heart out and shove it up his ass, for all I care.
This wasn't supposed to happen. [ Lilith says it again, voice harsh, trembling, like saying it will somehow make this whole situation not real. ] I didn't know she was this far gone already. If I did I would have never sent you after that thing by yourselves!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ The dragon cries out in frustration, a gout of flame erupting from its mouth straight up into the sky. Because, you know, sometimes you just have to remind folks how god damn scary you are. ]
Split up? I distract it while you move in?
no subject
A split second later, she grabs his collar and pulls him in for a kiss ] Be careful.
[ And then her wings unfurl, and she flits off ]
no subject
He runs in the opposite direction, nocking an arrow and aiming it at the creature's underbelly. He doesn't stop long enough to take careful aim, just lets it loose as he runs. The arrow hits, nonetheless, though as Peter figured, it doesn't do much more damage than a quick nick to its hide before bouncing away.
It does however, have the intended effect of making the creature turn towards him, and Peter has to leap to avoid the blast of fire it sends his way. The snow turns to steam, and Peter's pretty sure the moisture clinging to his clothes is going to fucking freeze when they get out of this. He jumps back to his feet and repeats the process, firing as he runs. ]
no subject
The dragon whirls around to try and find Peter, and Maya dashes in, dodging the beast's feet and claws and lashing tail, getting underneath its belly. When it rears back again to let loose another stream of fire, she comes up, planting both her hands on its chest. The dragon's hide begins to smoke and sizzle as her magic eats through it.
There's a brief second where it sounds like the dragon is choking on its fire, as it sputters and coughs, but that quickly gives way to a roar of pain. It claws at its chest, trying to remove the source of the pain, and Maya has to duck away to avoid being slashed to ribbons.
The wound on the dragon's chest is still smoking, but it wasn't enough. She'll need to do it again if she wants to get through to the soft flesh beneath the dragon's hide. ]
no subject
Hey! Over here, maggot brains!
[ He lets loose another arrow, this time catching it in the sensitive flesh just beneath its recently blinded eye. He has a satisfying moment to appreciate the trueness of his aim before he's dashing off again.
The dragon screams out in pain and anger once again, lurching forward on all fours. It whips its tail in the last place he heard Peter, and Peter is forced to drop and slide on his knees beneath it. He regains his footing soon enough though and is on the run again in hardly any time at all. ]
no subject
But there's no time to dwell, and she's on the move again. The dragon had opened itself up to attack again after trying to strike at Peter with its tail. She darts in, planting her hands on the dragon's chest again. It screams and fails, but she maintains her hold, pouring as much of her magic as she can into eating through its hide.
One of its claws catches her between the shoulder blades, and if she hadn't already felt pain once, thanks to the incident with Peter's pendant, the sudden sharp stab of it would have shocked her. As it is, she can feel blood seeping into her dress, traveling down her back in a slow trickle. Even Sirens, it seems, are not impervious to harm.
She grits her teeth, willing herself to keep going, until at last, the dragon's own blood seeps over her hands as her acid bites into its flesh. It's boiling to the touch and she withdraws her hands with a yelp. The dragon must have heard that, because the next swipe of its claws do not miss- it bats her away fiercely, and she goes careening into the snow. ]
no subject
And then he turns to see her falling, and he cries out her name, raw and terrified. And suddenly the dragon is bearing down on her, and Peter yanks an arrow from his quiver, firing at the monster's chest. One after another after another at a relentless pace as he rushes forward to Maya's side. Peter's deaf to the dragon's screams of agony as each of his shots finds its mark, burying deep into the dragon's weakened hide.
At last the dragon collapses, its blood turning the snow to steam and mist. Peter doesn't bother checking if the thing is dead or if it's even on its way, though, instead shouldering his bow and kneeling beside Maya. ]
Hey-- [ oh fuck, he's scared. He's so terrified, and his hands shake as he reaches out to her. ] Hey, c'mon, now's not the time for resting, alright?
no subject
She's conscious, but barely so. Her head is swimming from the impact and the blood loss and god dammit why does everything hurt so much?
Whatever blood was left on her hands when she went flying melted the snow away, washing them clean, and leaving her skin raw and angry red from the burns. The back of her dress is soaked with blood, and she tries to bite back a whimper of pain when he touches her.
Even so, she does her best to smile at him. ]
Ha. Knew you were... capable...
no subject
-- Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean that. I--
[ Stop it, Quill, he tells himself, and he grunts in frustration. He throws off his bow and quiver, pulls off his coat, yanks his knife from its hidden sheath in his boot. With his knife in hand, he starts tearing strips away from his coat to make bandages for her wounds. ]
Stay awake, okay? Can you do that for me? Just stay awake, and when we get back to the inn you can rest all you want.
no subject
She can't quite muster the energy for it, though.
Instead she cranes her head to try and watch him, forcing his figure to come into focus. Stay awake. Right. She can do that. She doesn't need to sleep. ]
... and the dragon?
no subject
This might hurt, alright? [ which is all the warning she gets before he's pressing one of the strips of cloth to the wound on her back. And the sight of her blood staining the makeshift bandage crimson makes his heart freeze before he presses another against it, trying to staunch her bleeding. ]
no subject
She is really bad at this being hurt thing.
There's a long moment where she struggles to breathe, struggles to focus. ]
Need... need its heart... need to... get me to... to Lilith.
[ Those were possibly supposed to be two separate thoughts, but it all just sort of came out at once. ]
no subject
Right now they have to make do with the old fashioned way, and Peter is hardly a healer.
He's moving to wrap her hands when she speaks, and he pauses briefly. He thinks he understands -- at least, he hopes he does. ]
Fuck the heart. [ he says it with heat as he works at bandaging her hands. ] That can wait. Or we'll make them send someone else to cut it out. You're at the top of my list right now.
no subject
no subject
You're doing great, Maya. It's gonna be alright. We'll get you fixed up. Just stay with me, okay?
[ He feels like he's going to be sick, for a moment, god, she's so hurt. He swallows down that urge to lash out at something, instead focusing on Maya. ]
I need to sit you up. I need to secure the bandage for your back, alright?
no subject
-- need your help.
no subject
[ He moves his arm beneath her, basically scoops her up as gently as he can and cradles her against him. ]
Just gotta get this bandage wrapped and we'll head back, okay? Not much longer. Promise.
no subject
[ Valiantly, she bites back any further noises of pain- well at least anything more than a whimper- as he moves her and does what he needs to do.
She nods against his shoulder. She can make it. ]
no subject
We're gonna head back, alright? Then you can sleep all you want, but not until then, okay? Gonna need you awake to keep me company.
no subject
[ She tries for a smile, though it's a frail, pained thing. She'll hold out as long as she can, but it's safe to say that by the time they reach the city, unconsciousness will have taken her. She goes limp in his arms, her breathing shallow and ragged. ]
no subject
He pushes himself as hard as he can, trudging through snow and wind, and by the time they reach Sanctuary, his whole body just feels tired and frozen and numb. But he refuses to hand her over to anyone, drags the two of them directly to Lilith and Roland. There's rage in his eyes and blood soaking his clothing and covering his hands, and god, he's so angry and terrified, and Maya's too silent and still in his arms--
He catches Lilith's gaze, and he wants to be angry at her and Roland, he really does. He wants to rage and yell and trash the room, but, no, not now. After. ]
Help her. [ And he's begging, eyes stinging and entire body trembling, and god, he would trade anything for Maya to be better. He hasn't begged like this in ages. He didn't beg for his life when the Ravagers came. He didn't beg when they punished him for mistakes.
The last time he begged like this, he was a child staring into his mother's empty eyes, pleading for her to just get up, please, please-- ]
Please.
no subject
For a split second, Roland looks like he has about a dozen questions, but he decides they don't matter at the moment. He motions for Peter to follow him, and he leads him to a bedroom just down the hall his office.
"Lay her down," he says, as he begins rifling through a trunk at the end of the bed. He pulls out a sword with a red jewel on the pommel, still safe inside its sheath. In one fluid motion he draws it free and drives it into the stone floor beside the bed. The blade rings with the impact, but seems unharmed. "I know this will be difficult, but you need to stand back."
He ushers Peter a step back from the bed, and when they're clear, the jewel on the hilt of the sword glows. The glow flows over the bed in an arc, covering Maya in a shimmering bubble of soft red light. Her breathing evens out by degrees, and in a few short moments, she appears to be merely sleeping. "It'll heal her, but it will take time."
"I'm sorry," comes from Lilith, who's been standing quietly in the doorway for this whole ordeal. There's something like sorrow in her voice. "I didn't mean for this to happen." ]
no subject
But-- she looks better, relaxed, and his panic ebbs.
Which just leaves exhaustion. Just leaves rage. ]
Sure.
[ His hands clench into fists, but his fingers are slick with blood -- some of it fresh, some of it partially dried -- and the feeling just serves as a reminder.
Fuck, he refuses to look at Lilith, because if he does, he'll do something really stupid and suicidal -- that if they didn't kill him for it, Maya surely would. He keeps his gaze on Maya's sleeping form, watching her face for any signs of discomfort.
Still, his voice is filled with bitterness, wavering and thick and filled with as much venom as he can muster. ]
Just send a single Siren and a random dude to deal with a fucking dragon. That's sure to end well. That's a reasonable way to deal with that fucking problem.
It's dead, by the way. And, hey, thanks for all of your guys' help in taking it down. Your buddy can head up there at his leisure. He can rip its fucking heart out and shove it up his ass, for all I care.
no subject
no subject
What the fuck do you mean, "this far gone"?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)