{bellum - small states warred against each another.}
5 YEARS, ONE MONTH AND TWO DAYS EARLIER
From the highest point of the tower he would sit and watch, waiting to see her face again. He never once believed that in her months of travel, she would not be back.
He knew from the moment she slipped through their fingers that he would see her again.
And unfortunately for her, he did.
"Y/n, we have missed you." He says, a coy and evil smile unveiling itself as the guards yank her to his station. Her hands are tied behind her back, her mouth taped over as three large men struggled to keep her contained while she trashed against her restraints.
Janson is sitting at his desk, peering over at y/n as if she were a rat caught in his trap.
He stands slowly, sighing as he smiles, and walks around to greet her.
He smiles. "Is there anything you'd like to say for yourself?"
Janson leans forward, removing the piece of tape covering her mouth.
Y/n takes in a deep breath, and spits harshly in the man's face.
He grunts angrily before reaching over the table for a tissue. Janson wipes the saliva off his face, and turns back to his protege.
She wonders for a moment if he would relinquish a consquence now, as he pauses briefly, and leans himself forward to her eye level.
But then he does the more predictable thing.
He strikes her hard across the face with the back of his hand, leaving a large red mark on her cheek. She says nothing.
"Well, there was no need for that, was there?"
He steps away from her, looking up and down at her clothes, her hair, her face.
"You look tired, y/n. Your clothes are ruined too - how could you let this happen?"
This time, she looks up at his smug face, furious. "Fuck you."
He smiles broadly, clasping his hands together in delight. "There she is! It's been so long since I've heard that, y/n, I almost missed it."
Her words were venomous. "You are more repugnant than the day I left this vile place."
Janson didn't enjoy the way she was speaking to him. He turns his back on her, irritated. "A long time ago we used to see eye to eye. Do you remember that?"
She's cold and cruel when she says, "And whose fault is that, Janson?"
He turns suddenly on his heels, quick to anger. "You left me no choice! I knew what would happen if I didn't separate the two of you, and here you are, proving my point!"
Y/n furiously lashes against her restraints. "You putting him in there to die is the only reason I left in the first place! I swore to you six months ago that I would cause no trouble as long as he was kept safe, and you couldn't even do that."
The beautifully hand crafted crystal bottle that sat upon Janson's desk, presumably containing whiskey, shattered all over the floor as he threw it abruptly against the wall.
Y/n was never deterred by his sudden bursts of anger - they had known each other for a long time by this point, and while she knew he could make a scene when he wanted, he would appear to never follow through with his threats.
