A/N I don't usually do this, but I found a song for this chapter that I find very fitting- Adagio for strings op 11
Sabine drudged through memories coated in layers of oil and blood; Step-mother roughly bathing her and her step sisters early in the morning before school; father reading his newspaper by the dim firelight, doing his best to ignore the daughter that he hadn't meant to have; her eldest step sister sitting behind her, combing the thick tangled strands of her dark hair.
The memories came with a gentle whisper from that creature in the back of her mind. These words consoled and emphasized, they urged her to sink deep into herself and remember these things, but in a way that was just as painful as the insatiable urge to destroy the room around her.
Beyond that foreign whisper, a smaller though stronger voice repeated the words over and over again: guilty, guilty, guilty. This, she recognized as herself.
#
The smell was growing difficult to manage, and she knew that had she been in her right mind, it would have driven her mad to be so unkempt. Her long hair tangled around her face and at the back of her head so terribly that she thought it would suffocate her, but in some ways it felt like an additional blocade against others on the few occasions that she ventured from her room.
Those excursions grew farther and farther apart until three days passed and she had only risen to go to the bathroom. Logically, this state of mind befuddled even herself, but her head ached too much to wrestle with it, so she lay prone in her bed with only the iron ring to keep her company.
It was the beginning of the fourth week when the door to her room burst open in a sudden flurry of light and air. Sabine forced herself to move from the bed as she squinted towards the light and was shocked to see Cassian looming in the doorway. His face was twisted into a sneer that showed more emotion than she'd ever seen from the man.
"Enough of this," he snapped. She watched in shock as he stormed across the room and tore the blanket from her bed. "Get up."
"Excuse me?" she stuttered, her voice hoarse.
"Do not play deaf," he snapped. "I am sick of being your maidservant. Get up and go get your own food."
Sabine was too stupefied to do anything but stare at him, her hands pale and drawn tight to her chest. She hadn't seen him quite so animated since when- since he'd- no. She would not think of that now. Instead, she forced herself to stand on weak legs, and followed him from the room.
When they emerged on deck, she was shocked to see that it was bright outside, the sun glaring down on them and the navy blue sea as they bobbed along in an expanse of solitude. Cassian did not pause to let her catch up, so she hurried after his long stride, barely even noticing the fact that no shadows clung to him at the moment.
The dining area was crowded with people, and it took all of Sabine's willpower not to clap her hands over her ears and cower. She followed dutifully to the line of passengers waiting for a piece of hard bread and some salted fish, her eyes glued to the floor so as to avoid unwanted gazes. Neither she nor Cassian said a word to anybody as they inched down the line and received their plates. Sabine followed him to an empty table in the corner where he sat, his eyes scanning the room without pause.
For the first time, she noticed an air of paranoia surrounding him that she had been too occupied to see earlier. His impenetrable gaze darted around the room like a caged beast as he took small bites from the food on his plate, barely even acknowledging Sabine's existence.
Fine, she thought. It's not like she wanted to speak to him anyway.
The whispers were mercifully silent, peeled away like an orange until only her own voice remained, frail and hoarse like that of a frightened child. She distracted herself by focusing her attention on the voices and drab conversations around her. The mother and child behind them were speaking in a language that was familiar yet foreign to her ears. Ever since Solev had joined the Odaian Empire, more and more people began to learn the language of the desert, but her family had been too poor and too purist to bother with it.
Cassian's own voice had a strong Iokalian accent, though as far as she was concerned, he spoke Anathi perfectly. For a time she used to beg Step-mother to get her Iokalian lessens, for all of the successful and beautiful ladies knew how to speak it, but she had only scoffed and said that it would do her no use.
Now she was en route to the capital of their foreign empire, and she barely had a grasp on the sister language. The thought only made despair cloud her head as the grim uncertainty of her future made itself known. They were just weeks away from their destination, and she would be just as alone and ignorant as when they first began this trip. Instead of facing that terror, she sank deeper inside of herself as the hard bread turned to dust in her mouth.
Perhaps it would be better to just die on this ship. She could jump into the ocean, and if she were so lucky, Nala would welcome her into the afterlife with open arms, and perhaps she could meet her true mother, for she suspected that the story her father used to tell was a lie made to shame her.
The thought sent a strange spike of panic through her head so intense that it began to pound from a headache, and she gasped at the pain. Her hands clutched at her skull, indifferent towards the fishy oils coating her hair as she curled into herself.
"By the gods," she gasped, her eyes squished tight against the now subsiding pain.
Cassian froze across from her, his body coiling into a tense ball. Uncertainty boiled off of him in waves as he gingerly brushed a finger across her arm. The headache began to ebb away, and she slowly opened her damp eyes to catch his puzzled expression.
"What is it?" He murmured.
She shook her head slowly, afraid to reignite the fiery pain. With shaking hands, she took another bite of bread while she attempted to gather her thoughts.
"Just a headache," she answered, staring down at her plate to avoid looking into eyes that demanded honesty. She would think about jumping tomorrow; the ocean would still be waiting for her then.
With a newfound exhaustion in her bones, she stood from the table and muttered an excuse to Cassian, but he grabbed the edge of her dirty dress before she could walk away.
"Wait for me on deck," he murmured, his gray eyes hooking her like a floundering fish. She nodded her head more out of fear than obedience and pulled gently from his grip. When Sabine glanced back at him over her shoulder, his gaze was locked on the lump of fish on his plate.
No one followed as she hurried back up to the main deck and searched out a small corner where she could sit while waiting for him. Dusk had fallen during evening meal, and the sun was low enough in the sky that a chill was settling over the ship and worming its way beneath her rags. The deck was fairly empty as most of the crewmembers were eating or catching a bit of sleep before their night shifts, so Sabine was practically alone in the fading light. For a moment, she cherished the silence and smell of seawater. But peace did not last long as the faint tickle of whispers returned, and she crouched in on herself as unsettling murmurs echoed through her ears.
"I know," she whispered back through gritted teeth. "I know I know I know I know I-"
A large hand gripped her shoulder and yanked her from the manic spell. She knew immediately that it wasn't Cassian, for he avoided touching her at all cost and his hands were often little more than a faint brush. She spun around and looked up with wide eyes into the leering face of a man she did not recognize. Sabine didn't think he was one of the crewmembers, and he wasn't wearing any uniform, so he had to be one of the passengers. Judging from his light brown hair and sunburnt skin, he was likely from Solev and at least ten years her superior.
The look that burned in his eyes sent curls of fear down her spine and froze her to her spot so that she could do little more than take a pitiful step backwards until she was stopped by a wooden poll at her back.
"Pardon me," she whispered, her eyes drifting to stare hopefully over his broad shoulder, but there was no sign of anyone. He dragged his hand down to the meaty part of her arm and dug his fingers in ever so slightly.
"Good evening, sweetheart," he murmured, shooting her a grin that revealed a row of yellowing teeth and a puff of alcoholic breath.
Sabine swallowed hard as her heart pounded in its cavern. This feeling, it was so similar to the helplessness she had felt in that alley, only then Cassian had been there with his steel arms wrapped around her waist to keep her from running out to her death. This time, it was the petrified stillness of her own feet that kept her from running. A man stood with a weapon- no, a hand, poised to tear out, poised to bruise... a part of her forgot how to speak, and for once every thought whooshed from her head.
"You look awfully frightened," he whispered, leaning down so that his face was in line with hers. The smell of his breath- like ashes.
Speech fell in fragments from her mouth, never coherent enough to form a sentence. "No," she finally whispered. It fell on deaf ears.
The man brought his other hand up to caress the stiff curve of her jaw.
"I've seen you around here." Half of his mouth tilted to the side in a frown, and he looked around with exaggerated confusion. "Where's that boy gone off to? You know, the one who's always shootin' us glares and actin' all better." He waited for an answer, but Sabine had retreated so deep inside of herself that it made no difference. Perhaps this was the punishment Nala sent for her; an eye for an eye. Four lives were not enough to feed whatever beast hungered for the taste her suffering; it ached for more. Truly, she did not blame it.
Irritation flashed across the man's face, and his grip tightened on her jaw hard enough that she expected to hear the bones creak and moan beneath his fingers.
"I asked you a question," he snarled, his face changing into something gross and monstrous. Sabine closed her eyes, tried to move her tongue, but it was glued to the roof of her mouth. He shook her hard enough to make her brain rattle and asked again.
"Where is your fuckin'-" He gasped in pain and those sweaty hands disappeared from Sabine's body. Her eyes flew open and locked onto Cassian who stood with his front pressed against the man's back, a long slender dagger taught against the man's adam's apple while his other hand held a butter knife poised at his belly, ready to spill his guts.
The expression on Cassian's face was blank and solid like ice, but his eyes were as black as she had ever seen them.
"You found him," he murmured, his voice calm and vacant.
The man's eyes looked like they were about to pop from terror, and he moved to open his mouth, but Cassian inched the dagger close enough to force out a trickle of blood.
"Apologize." It wasn't so much a demand as a statement of fact.
"Sorry," the man finally gasped, the knife digging deeper into his sunburnt skin. Cassian hesitated for a moment, something strange and inhuman flickering in his gaze as if he was debating whether or not to end this man's life. Sabine held her breath, body tense as she waited for the inevitable spill of blood to flow out of him.
The shadow in his eyes darkened almost imperceptibly, and he dropped the knife and shoved the man to the ground.
"So sorry," he blubbered, crawling on his hands and knees as he tried to get as far away as possible. Cassian just stared down at the worm with raised eyebrows that said more than words could. That man was a stain on the heel of Cassian's boot, not worth more than the effort it took to threaten him. No doubt he was wondering at how Sabine could have ever been intimidated by that thing, and now that she stared down at the crawling man, it was an embarrassment to her as well.
Useless- she was godsdamned useless, and a waste of breath, and-
A shock of cold ran through her as Cassian grabbed her by the hair and dragged her along close behind him. She yelped in pain, scrambling to grab the roots of her hair to keep him from yanking the dirty strands right out, but he continued to drag her all the way to the rail of the boat where he finally pressed her tight against it.
She opened her mouth to snap at him, but in one swift movement he sheathed his knife, tangled his hand in the folds of her shirt collar, and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing. With a slight grunt, he picked her up and shoved her against the rail so that most of her body was hanging over the ocean with nothing but his hands keeping her from tilting over the edge.
Had she not been dangling over the sea, she might have marveled at the strength of a boy barely older than herself.
Wave after wave of terror pounded through her as she strained to look at the long drop down. From here, the raging, spitting sea appeared a thousand times more dangerous than it felt in her room, and she had a sudden image of her body being thrown and crushed by those thrashing waves.
A strangled scream escaped her throat and she grasped Cassian's wrists with all of her strength, forcing her head to turn and meet his indifferent gaze.
"W-what are you-"
"Be quiet and listen," he said, his voice barely loud enough to hear over the pounding waves. His warm breath brushed her face, somehow smelling of mint when she knew that hers must be terrible after weeks without brushing.
"You have given me every reason to believe that you want nothing more than to die, so instead of wasting my time and resources, I think you ought to make your decision."
Sabine was so shocked by what he said that she could not find it in her to say anything at all. After fruitlessly waiting for her to respond, he adjusted his grip and continued speaking.
"Your death will not hinder me, Sabine; I already got what I needed from you. It certainly will not hurt your family, for they are all dead now. The only reason you have to keep living is for yourself- only you can make this decision. So I will ask once; do you want to die? And decide quickly, because my arms are getting tired."
The truth in his words dawned on her then, like a wave that pummeled against her again and again and again, never letting her take a moment to breath or regain footing. He was offering her what she had wished for moments before. All she had to do was say yes, and he would drop her into the raging waters below. Perhaps Nala would be waiting for her, perhaps not. Either way, it would be the end of her life, and no one would care.
She looked back into Cassian's eyes, searching anxiously for some kind of promise, or excuse to stay alive, or a scrap of kindness, but he offered her nothing useful.
It would be the end of Sabine, and not even the universe would give a shit. For some reason, that struck a chord of anger.
He read the answer in her eyes as easily as if she had said it aloud. His grip loosened, and he pulled her back over the edge of the railing and set her down. Her knees were too weak to hold her up, and she crumpled to the ground, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as she twisted her body to stare out at the darkening horizon.
With a sigh, Cassian sat down beside her, far enough away so that she couldn't feel the peculiar sapping of energy. Sabine didn't realize that she was crying until she felt the dampness drip from her chin, and only then did a crushing weight lift from her chest.
"I killed them," she whispered, more to herself than Cassian.
"Perhaps, in a way," he agreed, though there was no condemnation in his tone. "I killed them as well."
A heavy silence stretched between them, filled only by the whistle of wind and the steady crash and pull of waves.
Finally, she gathered enough courage to speak. "Will you teach me?" she whispered, afraid to hear his answer.
Cassian seemed to understand what she meant. Sabine felt his hesitation, knew that 'no' was poised on his tongue, but when she sent him a pleading look, it seemed to move something within him. Nothing especially important, for as far as Sabine was concerned he was frozen solid by ice, but it might have promised enough excitement for the rest of their trip to seem worth his while.
"Fine," he said with a shrug.
Sabine turned back to the ocean, satisfied with his answer. They remained sitting together for a moment more, then she felt him climb gracefully to his feet and disappear, leaving Sabine alone again.
This was a new life, one where her past was blank, and her future waited to be written. A new world lay miles from here, one that she planned on discovering alone, one that could give her everything she wanted.
Sabine could be a lady, with handsome men and elaborate dresses. Or, she could be a lady-in-waiting, entrenched in the beauty and poise of an empire, standing alongside those possessing power.
No, said the now familiar whisper, different this time: gentle, suggestive, alluring.
You will not be a simpering lady who bows at the feet of greater men and women. You will not return to a life that you could have had in Solev. You will be so much more.
So much more.