Sunstone Justice (PG-17)
Characters: Bryvin, Yriadha, Stenlis
Description: Sunstone justice comes for Stenlis
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 11, day 16 of Turn 9
Notes: PG17 for violence
Mentioned: Zathris, Polson/Olov
Stenlis woke slowly and with a low groan of pain. His entire body hurt
and he was cold. He tried to move, was confused when he could not,
then realized that his arms were bound above his head. Memory came
back in slow spurts. There was memories of blows, and then a
horrendous pain. He shifted as much as he could... the pain...he
remembered why the pain was there and shuddered, horrified at the
memory and wanting nothing more than to just forget.
Swollen eyes opened to peer into the dim room. The hood was gone, but
on the table was the wooden rod. He groaned, licked his lips and then
called out with a harsh voice. "Help! Help me! Please, for the love of
the First Egg, help me!"
"Well that's not going to happen," Bryvin said mildly from a chair on
the other side of the cave.
Stenlis recognized the voice and remembered the words of the men who'd
attacked him. "Bryvin...why have you done this? Do you want a war with
Amber Hills? Lord Zathris will tear Sunstone apart..." His indignation
and anger was as weak as he felt at the moment. "Release me and I'll
say nothing to him."
"Well, you see, here's the problem with that," Bryvin said without
heat. "I don't really trust your word Stenlis. Not after what you've
already done." He shook his head. "You've been a very bad man, and the
pity is, you didn't cover your tracks very well."
He stared at Bryvin, his vision fogging in and out of clarity. What
did Bryvin have to do with this? And why? "Where's my wife?" His head
throbbed and felt heavy, as though it was twice the size of what it
should have been and he couldn't focus his thoughts very well. "Not
bad. I'm not bad. Where is she?"
Yriadha's voice was soft, but vicious. "Right here." Moving behind
Bryvin, she laid her hand on his shoulder, openly fingers caressing
the lean muscle under his tunic. "I find this...rather satisfying."
Bryvin covered her hand with his and shook his head. "Stenlis,
Stenlis," he said. "You didn't listen when she said no. You killed her
family and tried to take our son. You really _are_ bad. But beyond
that, you're bad at being bad." He shrugged. "So, I'm going to kill
"I didn't kill anyone..." His voice trailed off as something Bryvin
had said sank in. Son? Her son? _Their_ son? Stenlis' head lifted as
he stared at the pair, his eyes widening before locking on to Yriadha.
"You're his mistress? That boy...You fecking whore!" He strained for a
moment at his bonds, but weakened quickly, only managing to rattle the
chains around his wrists.
Her eyes only narrowed slightly before a slow smile spread over her
lips. "Is Lord Bryvin's son. And mine. You see, I belong to Lord
Bryvin, completely. If my Lord should ask me to service his needs
here, I would and I would enjoy it." She took particular relish as
Stenlis' expression revealed mingled horror, rage, and jealousy. "I've
never been yours. As a matter of fact..." Her voice dropped to a purr,
"he quite enjoyed your wedding night." Stenlis had enough strength to
roar out his complaint, the insult enough to give him another surge of
strength. Yriadha ignored it. "You forced me." Her lips curled, her
hands tightened on Bryvin's shoulder, fingers shaking under his. "You
hurt me. Did you honestly think I'd ever forgive that?"
Bryvin smirked but it didn't reach his eyes as he regarded the man.
"You arranged for the death's of her father and brother just to get
hold of her property. Her beauty was simply a side benefit. Yet you
never thought to ask her what _she_ wanted. That was a very bad idea,"
Yriadha's hand tightened further on his shoulder as Bryvin spoke, the
only evidence of her hidden fury at the memory and the realization of
his words. Her other dug her nails deeply within her palm, breaking
the skin as she held a tightly fisted hand against her thigh.
Stenlis stared at the pair of them, weakly struggling in protest, but
was unable to drag up more than murmured token protests. "I said I was
sorry...I was trying to make it right..." The excuse sounded so weak
to him and slowly, so slowly, realization came that he was going to
die. He'd been tricked, he'd been foolish, and now he was going to
die. "Don't. Don't kill me, please. I'll make it up to her. I'll give
you everything Yriadha. Everything. It'll all be yours, I swear it.
Just don't kill me."
"See Beauty," Bryvin looked up at her guessing at her state of mind.
"He doesn't even bother to deny it." He rose to his feet and put his
arm around her shoulders. "The real pity is, you don't even see how
incredible Yriadha is."
"I've always known! Since she was a girl, I've known!" Stenlis pleaded
with the pair. "I've always loved you, Yriadha. You know that. You
loved me once too. You still do. You know you do. We're wed...you're
my wife. You'll have everything you never had before. A Lady Holder,
Yriadha." He strained towards her, tears leaking from his eyes in his
desperation. "I can give you that. He won't. He's only bedding you,
sired a bastard on you. He struck you!. He won't give me what I will!
We can have a child who's an heir to everything! I'll make sure of it.
Even if the child is female. Yavin can be my heir if you want! He will
never give you that. I can! I will! Yriadha, please...just give me
another chance and I'll give you everything! Please!"
Some of Stenlis' words hit her like a knife to the gut, even as Bryvin
held her. But the only hint of the impact on her was a twitch about
her eyes. It was too easy to remember Stenlis' weight on her, the pain
of his embrace and then the gentleness with which Bryvin had held her
after. Bryin had struck her, true, beaten her badly in the first few
months of his Lordship, but never again had he done so. But he'd never
forced her like Stenlis had. Instead, he'd been gentle, supportive
after. And...she loved him, she admitted. Loved the man desperately.
She stepped away from Bryvin, determined to put an end to his raving.
Her voice was soft "You gave me a son, Stenlis." Stenlis' eyes bulged
in shock, his opening in disbelief . "Yarmel was your son. I wasn't
certain until I saw your other son. Yarmel...he was a monster. Just
like you. Was. He's dead...just like you'll be." She kept the grief
from her voice, but was betrayed by a small catch before she continued
and bent to whisper in his ear. "And you sired another bastard on me,
Stenlis. I killed it. Purged it from my womb like filth into the
privy." She stepped back quickly as he howled in renewed frantic rage
and fear. "I'd never bear your seed. I'd rather bear ten more of my
Lord's bastards than a lawful child of yours." She turned from him,
looking at Bryvin, her head lifting. "I can't bear to look at him, my
Lord. Do with him what you will."
Bryvin held her eyes for a moment and his narrowed, then he nodded.
"Polson is waiting just like we discussed," he said. "I'll be up in a
few minutes." He thrust his chin at the door. She didn't need to see
what he was about to do. He stepped forward and took her face in his
hands and gently placed a kiss on her lips. "It will be over soon," he
said softly then he watched her go.
He turned back to Stenlis. He shook his head. "You didn't even bother
to find out what was happening here, nor do you know who or what I
am." His eyes were cold as he stood before the man. "I'm sure your son
will do well by your hold. Too bad you won't be there to see it." He
pulled a long knife from his table and stepped toward the big man. He
knew he no longer had to do his own dirty work but as much as he tried
to stay within the law in his own hold there were times when it wasn't
Stenlis cried out to Yriadha as she stepped out of the room, "Don't do
this! You know I'm right! I'm your husband! Your husband! I love you,
I've always loved you! I'm sorry!" There was a flare of hope as she
paused, then as the door closed behind her, his eyes swung to Bryvin,
going to the knife in his hand. He shied back, moving back against the
wall as far as he could away from the blade. His voice was hoarse,
pleading with emerging sobs of panic. "Don't. Please. Let me make it
up to her. I swear I will. She's mine...she's everything to me.
Please. I love her. I've always loved her. I made mistakes, but it was
for her! I waited turns for her. Everything I did was for her.
Everything so she could be my wife. What will you give her? Just a
place in your bed? I can give her everything she deserves. I'll treat
her like blown glass. I'll never hurt her again, I didn't mean to!"
The once proud man began to babble helplessly. "Please, Lord Bryvin,
don't. I won't say anything to Zathris. I'll leave here and never come
back. You'll never see me again, I swear it. I'll give you anything!
"And yet I still don't believe you," Bryvin said mildly. "I do admire
your intent though. She is magnificent." His eyes narrowed. "By the
way, You've made a lot of claims here tonight but you know nothing
about me or my motives. You've made many assumptions that have turned
out to be completely wrong. And that is what has gotten you here to
this place." Bryvin took a step closer. "Unfortunately, there is no
coming back from this one. You _would_ tell Lord Zathris, and he would
likely defend you. That is, until I showed him the copy of the will
you showed me and the copy we found filed with Amber Hills." He
shrugged. "You're incompetent or a liar or both. But this way your
Lord will never know and your son will inherit. Besides, as Yraidha
said, she is mine, not yours." His hand flicked forward and nicked the
inside of Stenls' upper arm. Blood began to flow and Bryvin stepped
back with an interested expression.
"Wait! Don't!" Stenlis couldn't dodge the knife and felt the bite of
the blade with a gasp, then a stare. It was a just a small cut. He was
instantly relieved, but his relief turned to horror as blood began to
spurt from his arm in bright red flows timed with the beating of his
racing heart. He stared at the blood. "No...no no no...Not like this.
I can't die like this." He turned to Bryvin, bruised and battered face
pale. This skinny, dark, weaselly Lord Holder...Why did she chose him?
He couldn't understand. He was going to die. She chose _him_ over her
husband. Lawful husband. He was her husband, not Bryvin. Bryvin had
made her a whore. Twisted her mind. A final hint of the mad rage
within him spilled out as panicked spittle flecked his lips. "She's
mine. She'll always be mine. She was mine first before anyone else.
Nothing you can do will ever change that. She's my wife." His voice
weakened. "My wife. Mine. Always mine.." His head started to droop and
he saw pools of his blood soak into the filthy concrete as his vision
began to fade and his head lolled forward. "Yraidha...please...help
me..." His voice trailed off to a whisper. "Beloved."
"Wrong again," Bryvin said mildly. "She's your widow." He knocked on
a bell with the knife then wiped it on a rag. When the door opened he
just waved a hand at the two men who entered. "You know what to do."
Last updated on the August 13th 2019