Beauty of Every Kind: a Great Ace Attorney AU

Benighted

A week later, any semblance of relief was shattered.

Barok ventured out with Iris to shop for fresh herbs for her garden. She wanted to experiment with new varieties to make a very special tea for Susato and Yujin before their departure, along with some other custom blends as gifts for Christmas.

In truth, Barok had been glad for some time out with his niece. She happily rode on his shoulders for some time, until they reached the heart of the market. Then she scrambled down and examined the herbs with the utmost concentration, her big blue eyes bright with excitement and glee.

Barok watched her and paid for her selections. They carried the plants home in their arms, walking slowly back towards their carriage. The air was starting to turn bracing and damp, but the day was nice despite that. Not because of the weather, but because Barok had Iris for company. She talked animatedly about the new story she was writing, as well as her plans for the herbs. Barok smiled.

Suddenly, a man with a scarf over his face stepped away from a lamppost and lunged for Iris. Soil scattered along the street. Iris screamed.

Rage and the need to protect Iris burst in Barok's mind, shards of ice that seared his entire being, launching him into a cold and calculated frenzy of motion, sabre drawn, heart pounding. The man cried out as Barok's blade skimmed his hand. He stumbled back, but did not let go of Iris. Then Barok lurched forward, stabbing towards the man's shoulder. The attacker threw Iris down and backed away.

Force slammed into Barok's back, making him stagger. He whirled and bashed the hilt of his blade into the sternum of the assailant who had come up behind him.

"Don't touch me!" Iris shouted.

Barok turned back around. The first attacker was grasping at her again, despite the bloody wound weeping on the back of his hand. Iris's knapsack was on the ground now, open and toppled over, and something was in her hands. She lifted it towards the man, her arms shaking. The man hesitated. Iris fired and a smoke pod burst. The man coughed and staggered away. He took off running.

The second attacker—the one Barok had struck with the hilt of his sabre—lunged past Barok and towards Iris. She turned and threw her smoke gun at him. It missed, landing on one of her fallen herbs. Barok grabbed at the man, but he turned and sprinted away.

Barok would have rushed after him, had Iris not been there. Instead he hurried towards her and knelt down, wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. A murmuring crowd drew up towards them, but beyond the haze of his fear for Iris, Barok could hardly comprehend anything. Even as someone passed him her knapsack. He grabbed it numbly, one-handed, then stood, bearing Iris aloft in the crook of his arm. She sobbed against his coat, her hands clutching the fabric tight. Barok put his other arm around her protectively as he hurried back towards their carriage. Gaze long and unfocussed. Brows flattened severely. The bag dangling loosely from his fingers.

He did not release Iris. Not until they were back inside the manor and Klint and Lady Baskerville were at their side, demanding to know what had happened. Lady Baskerville took the still crying Iris from Barok's arms and hugged her close. And Klint seized Barok by the shoulder and steered him towards the study.

Only once the door shut with a click did Barok register that the danger had truly passed. It was still so hard to breathe. His lungs and eyes and throat had all coalesced into one long tunnel that sent pulsations down into his chest and hands and feet.

"Tell me exactly what happened, Barok," Klint said, his voice bleak and dark. Fury settled on his face, smoothed his brow, ignited his eyes with deep shadow, cavernous and consuming. A frightful light burned far down in their depths.