The TwiceBorn

Shelter As We Go

"Maybe we pray on our knees because God only listens when we're this close to the devil."--Ocean Vuong

Finn gazed skyward for a few moments as he contemplated what all was occurring. The grumblings of "heretic" were growing louder but Islinn kept her eyes on Finn. This was his kingdom and they all recognized him as the King. And she had a feeling he wasn't done yet.

Finn held up a hand and the crowd immediately fell silent again. Islinn had the feeling that he enjoyed controlling the crowd by a flick of his wrist.

"So...you would rather Aubery be dead on the grasslands instead, did I hear you right?"

Islinn nodded.

"And...why is that?"

Islinn had the feeling Finn already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it out loud, for some private and perverse reason of his own.

And just maybe...she wanted to hear it too.

"Because I loved her."

Four words that sounded sweet to her ears yet the sound was too brief. And perhaps that was what made them sweet to her ears and hers alone. All the moments in time it took her to say them, despite where she was and how she got there, it was as if her heart had spoken and made the words fall like a song from her lips.

They rolled off her tongue strong and she thought of all the time she had spent cradled in Brede's arms, performing what others called miracles, miracles that required her blood and vomit splashed onto the ground, miracles that kept her awake in the night because it hurt to breathe, and how not once had she ever felt holy. Exalted.

Like she did now.

"Devil's whore!"

The sound came from a man in the back, Islinn couldn't see who it was, but it was all the crowd needed, that one spark to ignite a flame. None of it felt real. Hands grabbed her, rough and unforgiving, and a fist looped out of nowhere and buried itself in her stomach. Her breath rushed out of her and if her stomach hadn't of been so empty, she knew she would have vomited. Acid burned in the back of her throat as she struggled to catch her breath and she started to sag to the ground, but rough hands held her up, yanking and pulling her towards the door.

"Leave her! Leave her now!"

She saw a flash of steel and for a split second, she thought ol' Gre must have made up his mind to do something after riding the fence for so long.

What a pity his first decisive action was going to get him killed

She couldn't see anything other than a jumble of arms and hands as she was moved through the crowd. The smell of ale was strong, filling her nostrils, and another fist came out of nowhere and shredded her bottom lip. Now the smell of ale mixed with the coppery aroma of her own blood. A few faces drifted across her line of vision and the mad light in their eyes was far more frightening than the possibility of being beaten to death on the floor of the tavern.