triangularity | Hadand | runaway AU where her betrothal is dissolved

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hadand

Hadand | runaway AU where her betrothal is dissolved | Open to assorted cross-canon AUs!

She remained silent as he glared down at her with those angry green eyes she’d braced herself all her life to endure. To deflect. He had never struck her, but he’d beaten Evred and Barend frequently enough that his presence in the schoolroom had felt akin to impending thunder all the days of their childhood.

“I will marry Joret, and you’ll get an honorable treaty,” he said, having planned that much, and practiced it over and over to get it out in one piece, with no tremor.

She gasped. "What?”

“Marry. Joret. You and I. Go to Father together. You marry a p-p-prince. Trade. Alliance. All with honor.” He got that out with utter conviction—there was no going back, not now. He’d promised Joret.

"Have you, uh, seen her?” Hadand groped wildly for the real world, which seemed to have slipped sideways, leaving her in a terrible dream.

--

The week or two that follow are like a bad dream continued. None of it is real, somehow, until she sees Joret at Aldren's side in front of the whole city. Joret is as unwilling to take Hadand's place as hlinlaef, the heir's betrothed, as Hadand was to give it up. It was her duty. And her home, of course. And her honor, she supposes. She was going to outrank every woman in the kingdom, and she's trained all her life for it. If Hadand has to leave her responsibilities to anyone else, someone she loves and trusts like a sister is obviously best, but...

But trouble seeks out Joret, lured in by her beauty. Hadand thinks she'd be hard-put to find a single man in the kingdom, at least among those whose interests run toward women, who isn't attracted to Joret.

None of that is left to her, and she's seen what Queen Wisthia's life was like every day for the past twenty years. No Marlovan, Hadand included, ever gave the queen much in the way of respect or consideration. They conducted the business of the kingdom around her, as if she were furniture. Hadand can't bring herself to be put in that situation. Deposited in another kingdom whose customs she doesn't understand, ruler in name but never in fact, always an outsider.

Hadand knows she won't refuse, if the king asks it of her. She doesn't think he'd ever order it, but he'll ask, along with other options that won't benefit the kingdom nearly as much. Staying in Iasca Leror won't be included in her list of options. Hadand left here would be a rallying point for strife and bickering among all the Jarls, a carefully planned royal betrothal made decades ago set aside in favor of the heir's obsession with a pretty face. Her sense of duty is too strong to say no, so she has to be out of the palace before the question is posed.

She loves the palace and Choread Hesea, raised in the royal nursery after being fostered into her betrothed's family at age two. It was never just duty. Aldren has taken her home from her along with the position she's worked for all her life. He won't take the rest of her choices from her.

Hadand writes a letter to her mother first of all, in code and handed to Tesar for personal delivery. She packs very little, hides as many weapons on her person as she can manage, and, in equal measures desperation and cold deliberation, seizes the first opportunity for escape she comes across.

Her younger brother was smuggled out of the kingdom on a ship over six years ago, and it seems to be Hadand's turn for the same. She lets a wave of guilt and regret at the thought of her mother, now childless, wash over her. Then she sets it aside for another day. Right now, she has to figure out what comes next.

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There was talk of giants, usually they weren't pleasant. In fact most giants were perceived as dangerous or terrible beings. But for the most part they were considered rare. Thought to be wiped out for the safety of others, at least that usually was the tale. No one had considered what happened to the gentle giants that may have fallen victim to the damages humans tried to pull blame on.

Recently from the trip down a safely hidden beanstalk, Arthur did come down carefully to the ground. He was quiet for a giant. The only sound he ever did make was when he walked. At 50 feet in height, and gentle as he was, he couldn't prevent the little tremors that would come for when he walked. For another part, he didn’t look like a disgusting ogre nor disfigured. In fact he looked more like an overgrown man. Dark shaggy hair and stubbled beard, his brown eyes softly gazed across the terrain of the woods.

It seems Arthur was looking for something within this forest. He came into a slow crawl as he lowered himself within the trees. Only disturbing the birds as they flew out of the branches, squawking toward him to get out of their territory, which he only let out a noise of discomfort as he tried to wave them away, "C-Come on now get, I don't want have anything to do with you, I just need to get by!"

She's still within the confines of her own kingdom, which means that Hadand still feels responsible for what happens to it. Just because she isn't its future queen doesn't mean it isn't home to everyone she loves.

Arthur's words aren't alarming, but his resounding voice and the way the ground shakes softly when he moves are. Hadand has her bow in-hand and strung before he gets to the end of his first sentence, an arrow nocked to the string before she steps into sight of him. She steels herself, and her voice doesn't waver at all when she says, "Get by to where? What are you doing here?"

Turning toward the sound of the lady’s voice made Arthur’s eyes widen. He thought he’d be alone here! Oh, and she was pointing a weapon toward him, that’s not friendly at all. His brows furrowed in worry toward the arrow, holding up his hands as he carefully took a step back to try and reassure he meant no harm. "Oh-N-No please don’t shoot! I-I’m just here to try and find more fruit for my garden! H-Honest! I-I was hoping this forest might have more things I could use to plant with in it!"

Arthur looked around as he held his breath, "Oh... I-I’m not intruding on private property am I? I-I’m ever so sorry if I am!"

Arthur's stutter reminds her, with a brief flash of directionless anger and regret, of Aldren. Of how much her former betrothed, her brother's murderer, the boy she helped with all of his schoolwork growing up, struggled to get words out. But where Aldren was curt and hostile, eliminating the need for speech by making everyone around him tread lightly and anticipate his every whim, Arthur is the opposite.

Despite his size, Hadand lowers her bow, though she doesn't replace the arrow in her quiver just yet. She tilts her head curiously. "I would think that most fruit growing here would be far too small for you to pick."

And if it's private property, it's not the sort that anyone patrols or harvests regularly. That's why she chose it, for her route out of the country. Hadand wanted to leave as quietly as possible. She does make sure to be seen just often enough to quell rumors that Aldren might have killed her to make room for Joret. Aldren did arrange the death of one Algara-Vayir sibling. It just wasn't Hadand. She doesn't want that guilt or blame hanging over Joret; Aldren is bad enough to deal with, without adding vile accusations from all sides.

Hadand is about due for another appearance, and she's on friendly land. She'll hardly turn down the chance to visit Fnor, provided she can do it without formally entering the Jarl's keep. She considers Arthur for another moment, but then, if he wanted to hurt her, he'd have an easy enough time of it. Her arrows are so small that it would take a perfect shot at a near-vertical angle to do real harm. "You're better off trading for what's available in the cultivated fields and orchards anyway. I could do that, if you'd help me get away from here quicker."

With a breath of relief, Arthur lowered his arms when she saw she let down her weapon. He gave a weak smile as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Fruit when picked from anywhere will grow to a great height with the right type of soil. The magical grounds where I come from will allow that to happen I’m certain.”

There was certainly a lot of enchanted dwellings where he lived in the clouds. The property alone contained enough magic within the clouds themselves to create a fertile like ground and withstand a whole castle. It was miraculous for anyone to come see themselves.

When she brought up the prospect of trading though, that definitely seemed like a fair enough thought. Usually he’d be nervous about approach people in general due to what people usually though of giants and he always wanted to avoid the conflict first. It was pretty clear that he was particularly nervous and shy around folks even those so small. He let out an “oh” as she asked if he could take her way from here.

Arthur slowly bend down on one knee for her, lowering himself for her as he placed his one hand on the ground. Leaning forward so she could see his face better, his gentle brown eyes gazed toward her. With a closer inspection Arthur was a bit worn but seemed to have shy disposition as he spoke toward her, “I-I don’t mind but, a-are you sure… I mean,” he looked down in dismay, “Not many folks a-are fond of me.”

"Really?" Hadand asked, eager in spite of herself. All those years of searching, hoping for any scrap of magical knowledge, and here he was talking about something beyond anything she'd read about so far. Every person had the potential for magic, and it was treated as an everyday convenience. Unfortunately, anything but the two most basic spells were denied to her people. The Mage Council thought that Marlovans were too warlike.

Hadand pursed her lips when he asked if she was sure. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. Her whole world had shifted out from under her. "I need to get out of the kingdom. Quickly and quietly, without too much of anyone's attention, but I wasn't sure I could afford to feed my horse if I took her. I left her where I knew she'd be cared for. I'll go to the marketplace in Marlo-Vayir and bring back fruit for you."

Arthur took a soft breath as he listened. It seems like a reasonable trade. He gave a gentle smile down toward her as he carefully placed his hand down for her to climb into. Giving a soft little nod, “Very well, I shall take you there. M-My name is, Arthur by the way… What’s yours miss?”

"Hadand," she answers, leaving off any claim to her title (edli still, a prince's daughter, even if she's no longer the hlinlaef, the future queen) or her Vayir surname. Her first name is safe enough, a common Marlovan name that's been used for any number of girls in her generation. Marlovans reuse names so frequently that half of them need to differentiate themselves using nicknames. Some nicknames are more colorful than others. Hadand has never had one, and she doesn't think she needs to pare her name down now.

She looks up at Arthur with only a little trepidation, then reaches behind her to replace the arrow in its quiver. She slings her bow over one shoulder and climbs easily into his palm. "Eastward, and you should probably set me down at the edge of the woods to let me walk from there. Once we get out onto the open plains, you'd be at risk from the jarl's Riders."

Giving a welcoming nod, Arthur gently spoke to her, "It's nice to meet you Hadand." Noticing her anticipation, he stayed still and kept his warm smile toward her. He honestly didn't mean any harm at all, and he only hopes that despite his stature she'll be able to see that. Then he gave a nod as he listened to her directions, slowly getting up so she can stay balanced, "You're right… I got a feeling on look at me and it's arrows everywhere."

Looking down toward the space in his pocket, then back to her, "Would you like to stay in my pocket while we adventure there, might be more comfortable for you then my hand."

She doesn't bother to disagree with his assessment of the danger. Marlovans learn archery as children, and they take defense of their lands very seriously. Arrows everywhere is accurate. Just look at her reaction when she first saw Arthur, and Hadand is more careful and level-headed than most people. She was raised that way. Always think first. Watch. Listen. Never take any action without considering the consequences. Don't show off. Don't get careless.

Hadand considers for a moment, weighing the idea of confinement against the possibility of being dropped. After a pause, she agrees, "Alright. You can put me in your pocket."

It really was that Arthur was just so used to the prejudice of who he was. It came almost automatic that he knew just being nearby a village would send some kind of panic. He was honestly lucky enough to never get captured or seriously injured, knock on wood of course. All things considered, Arthur at least knew not to press his luck and tread lightly. Especially when it came to humans.

Once Hadand confirmed she was alright with it. Arthur gently scooped her into his palm, carefully lifting her up as he cupped his other hand around. Making sure that she knew he would keep her safe from falling. Opening up his pocket for her as he held out his palm for her to climb inside the soft cotton interior, “It should be comfortable there, I only hope my heart beat isn't too loud for you.”

Hadand noted just how careful Arthur was with her. He'd have to be, given his size, but 'gentle' was never exactly what she'd been used to. She'd always been sturdy, reliable, and practical, fighting to be strong and not to depend on anyone except in private. It was a requirement of her position. So of course that was how nearly everyone viewed her and treated her.

His concern for her ears startled a laugh out of her, short but very sincere. "I'm certain it won't be louder than a hall full of Marlovans drumming, like I listen to every Restday."

Listened to, she supposed. Past tense. She was leaving, which meant no more Restday drums with songs detailing Marlovan history. She sobered, but tried not to let her dismay at the reminder show on her face.

Arthur was always told since he was a kid to be sensitive and kind to things smaller than him. And if they do not like you just avoid them. He practiced this even since his family's passing and treated those with kindness as best as he could, making him all the more the gentle giant. Arthur gave a soft chuckle as Hadand settled into his pocket at the mention of the drums every restday.

"Oh my, I can only imagine such noise," Arthur than started on their journey through the fields, occasionally looking down into the pocket so he could meet her gaze, "I'm mostly used to the animal noises we have up in the clouds, but they're not very troublesome. I find it somewhat soothing to hear them actually."

Arthur's laugh shook her new perch in a very disconcerting way. Hadand was prepared to leave behind everything familiar to her. This was just a much bigger and more immediate departure than she had expected.

This wasn't a bedroll in a tent, the only previous times she'd been in anything resembling a pocket. It would have taken an earthquake to shake that.

"You're accustomed to quiet, then? We aren't a quiet people, at least not outside of our archives or preparing an ambush." Sorry if that seems threatening, but her own reaction upon seeing Arthur should be some indication of Marlovan weapons use.

Arthur gazed down as he listened to her, careful in his step of course as he walked. Occasionally looking back up to make sure his foot wouldn't come down on anything that would create a problem. He took a soft breath as she talked about non-quiet aspect. There was a noticeable little shiver, "I-I keep to myself when I hear a lot of noise sometimes, so it's not a big deal..."

Although the giant didn't mention it, but he would sometimes lock up and be scared of violent noises, most notably thunder like noises. It was how his parents died after all, but he didn't want to create trouble so he quietly pressed onward for her.

"Are other... what do your people call themselves?" But she'll continue her question and let him answer both at once once she's done. "Do you tend to be a solitary and quiet people, or is yours a social culture?"

Everything is foreign to her, and Hadand is struggling not to admit to herself how daunting it is to leave Iasca Leror. She wasn't supposed to. Queens stay home. Marlovans are insular. Even her Sartoran speech, which is understood by most of the world, is quaint and out of date by standards elsewhere, a couple generations old. She's still not quite sure who she is without her own culture and traditions.

Arthur gazed curiously down toward her at her inquiry, he didn't seem to mind though. Giving a sweet smile, "We're giants, cloud giants specifically. My family is related to the Nephilim kind which are a group of giants with healing powers, but there's a lot of training of the heart and mind to achieve that..."

For a while since Arthur was young he was trained to focus on healing others, particularly with dreams and small wounds through music. It's all he knew before they passed on, he sadly doesn't know much else other than that. "And we're the first sort, a lot of the cloud giants don't want to be part of any affairs we'd rather heal who needs us and move on with our own lives. I think my parents would only go down if others requested help and bargain if need be, I know they were more social than some of the others."

Hadand sounds eager and interested. "You live in the clouds and have healing powers? Have you had any of the training? My people don't have access to any magical knowledge, though of course we have the same magic every human does." They just can't do anything with it.

"And I can't imagine living alone. I grew up in a palace, in the middle of a city, and there were always other people around. I have to find somewhere to go next."

Arthur gave a little bit of a frown, from what he did know was very basic as he was so young when he was taught some of healing methods. "O-Oh I, I know a little bit, I know how to heal nightmares away for sure. But physical ailments still need work, I-I haven't been trained enough to know how to full heal wounds yet on my own."

At the very least Arthur knew healing with certain items and spells but he's not very confident in it. But it was his own problems of self-doubt that was setting him back unfortunately. With no one there to guide him it was hard to be confident in his abilities just yet. Giving a breath, "I-I don't know if I'll be ever as good as my parents... They passed on sadly before they could teach me any more of that..."

Arthur gave a weak smile at that, "Our race is almost gone, I don't think I've seen another like me in a long time. I've also never been around that many humans myself, but I worry on how other perceive me considering..."

Hadand tilted her head, fascinated. "I don't think any human healers work with dreams. You can soothe away the bad ones?"

But her face tightened with sympathy, though Arthur couldn't see it, when he continued. "I've lost my people too now, but not through death. Were you and your parents very close? I love my mother, and my aunt, but my father was distant."

She wasn't shocked to hear that cloud giants are almost gone, in spite of talking to one. "Most races other than humans are gone. It's why I was so surprised to see you."

Arthur held his hands quietly, rubbing his thumb against his palm to try and keep himself from getting nervous talking about his talents. Nodding as he took a little breath, "Yeah, when someone is having a nightmare I recite a spell to make it disappear into the night. And then I give them a whole new dream, a good dream. They come like little orbs into my garden in my castle and I collect them like butterflies, my family specialized in them for a long time."

Looking down, oh but there wasn't a day that had gone by where Arthur's heart still ached from witnessing his parents death. "Y-Yeah... I... I miss them every day... I-I wish I was able to save them when they..."

Growing quiet, Arthur shivered, trying to fight the tears that stung his eyes at the mere memory of the event.

Edited 2016-10-07 05:51 (UTC)

The talk of dreams and magic was incredibly interesting, and Hadand itched to ask more, after all her years of thwarted study. She laid that aside for now, though. Some things mattered more.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Hadand said quietly. "I haven't seen my mother in seven years, and my brother in longer than that. My aunt, who raised me, was killed this year, along with several others in my family."

She hesitated before adding, "I put the kingdom first. I held it together, but I couldn't save anyone else."

It might be a mistake, revealing that much about herself, but at least it was to someone who clearly rarely interacted with humans.

Arthur rubbed his eyes as he sniffed quietly. Trying to regain his composure for her. For being a giant his heart had such a soft touch. Gazing over to her, "T-To have all that happened... You're so strong to still be brave after that, I-I'm trying my hardest to be that but I still..."

Gives a weak smile, "I guess it's different, I'm not really anyone important after all, just a giant..."

"You didn't spend your whole life told you had to be strong, with no choice in the matter. You're hurting for good reason." Her voice was calm but understanding. Subtle sympathy and no pity attached to it.

"I'm no one important anymore either," Hadand said, with the vague sinking sense of guilt at leaving. "I left, and I'm not going back."

The city of Darujhistan is a port city on the landlocked Lake Azur which people travel to and from every day. The main thoroughfares are lined with gas lamps lit every night. The last free city on Genabackis, its climate is similar to the region near the Caspian or Dead Seas. It was summer and the Festival was approaching. The streets were filled with the news of Pale's fall to the Malazan Empire and people were celebrating like the sky might fall at any moment.

Captain Ganoes Paran was trying to find the dive his squad was holed up in all over again. There was a pain in his gut that shortened his pace as he wove through the noisy crowd. He paused to get his breath, watching people milling in a cross street.

(Fantasy geography is hard.)

Edited 2016-05-24 20:30 (UTC)

Hadand had to pay for her first passage, because she was too old to talk anyone into taking her as an untrained ship rat. She's starting to run low on options. Talking someone into taking her as a fighter may be the best she can hope for. In the meantime, she's causing a very quiet commotion nearby, the crowd shifting to give her a wide berth.

A boy's wrist is caught in one of her small hands, a knife drawn with the other, and her feet in an easy, practiced stance that would work well if she felt like using that knife. She considers the ragged boy for a second, then lets him go. Her accent and phrasing, when she addresses him, is quaint, a generation or three out of date. "I have little enough without you trying to take it. Go."

Paran pulled himself together to go see the commotion. He was very wary about the reaction a foreigner might get pushing around locals, especially so close to the Fete.

By the time he was close enough to see what was happening, he figured the woman had things well in hand. She could have been Gadrobi with her height and figure but her skin was paler than theirs. The accent was unfamiliar. Paran wasn't going to escalate the situation or make himself unwelcome in the city by pressing his help where it wasn't necessary but he made an effort to meet her eye and express his interest in talking to her when she was done scolding the pickpocket.

Hadand was observant enough to note the stranger trying to get her attention, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. She stayed where she was a moment first, sheathing the knife at her waist and straightening. Hadand summoned up a small smile for the next few locals who gave her looks, placating and almost apologetic. She knew how quickly things could devolve into violence, and how easy it was for either a criminal or an outsider to become a target.

Only once she was sure there wasn't going to be negative fallout did she approach Paran. She gave him a small smile too, but this one wasn't apologetic at all. He might notice the tops of hilts in her boots as well as the dagger at her waist. Hadand had more knives up her sleeves, but those were strapped flat enough that they weren't visible at all in the drape of the fabric. When she spoke, her voice was soft, carefully pitched just high enough to be heard over the crowd. The precision of that balance implied practice. "Hello. What can I do for you?"

"I'm new and in need of personnel." There were so few Bridgeburners left. And no one was going to rely on Sorry. "I can't pay you up front but I can give you a job offer." He was looking at her knife hilts as he said that.

"You seem like you can handle yourself." Nearly half of Dujek's army were women and it wasn't uncommon for women to be mercenaries. He wouldn't trust her necessarily but he didn't fully trust his squad either. HE could deal with this.

Hadand considered for no more than a second. She'd made it so far from home that the chances of her ever having to fight against Iasca Leror if she took a job as a mercenary were slim. It wouldn't do any harm to at the very least hear more detail. Fighting was her most marketable skill set, and she had assumed she'd need to look for exactly this sort of offer.

She caught his eyes on her boot knives and had her steady gaze ready to meet his when he raised it. "I can handle myself. Tell me a little more about yourself and the job. Room and board are included, I assume?" She could do without pay awhile, as long as her rapidly dwindling savings didn't deteriorate further in the meantime. Hadand had never needed much past basic necessities. Even as a future queen, she'd lived simply.

Paran nodded firmly. "Right now we're staying in a dive called the Phoenix Inn. When this job's over we'll be going elsewhere. Maybe back to Pale, maybe further south." He watched to see if that meant anything to her or if she had any objections.

He was assuming a fighting woman wouldn't have strong objections to sleeping in the same room as men. Even men as occasionally hygienically unpleasant as Hedge sometimes got.

Hadand is silent for a moment, then decides on the two conditions that matter most. Iasca Leror has seen a lot of worry and violence in recent years, and then there's her own family legacy of it to consider.

"I can fight, but I won't make killing or burning and looting raids on civilians, and I won't fight against my homeland. The latter shouldn't be an issue unless you range very far afield. I've come a long way." As might be obvious by the fact that Hadand's accent is nothing like that of anyone else in the city, and probably not one he's ever encountered. Marlovans are an insular people.

"We're not here to loot." Paran said after a moment of heavy thought. "We aren't here to raid." They were there to make Darujhistan surrender. That plan did involve some civilian casualties and some explosions.

"We may eventually expand to your homeland's boundaries but we can deal with that when we get there. It's unlikely to be soon."

Was that good enough?

" 'Unlikely to be soon,' isn't entirely reassuring, nor 'expand.' Are you empire-building?"

Because she wasn't sure she wanted to sign on for anything like what her own kingdom already faced on another front. Or, for that matter, what they'd done themselves. She could make those decisions for her kingdom. She wouldn't, for money.

"You really aren't from around here. Yes. The Malazan Empire plans to extend its borders." Paran said it plainly because any amount of prevarication would quickly be exposed by listening to practically anyone. "As we've been doing since Empress Laseen took the throne."

She hadn't been in town long enough to pick up on all the local politics.

Hadand considered her options, or rather, her stunning lack of them, then asked, "How bound is someone to your company once they join? May they leave freely? Presumably not during battle itself, of course, but other times."

"Officially? You're a traitor and a deserter and we will hunt you to the ends of the earth. Unofficially, so long as you don't make it too obvious or take too much with you, no one will follow you. A new name, a new city." Paran shrugged. "Who's to know?"

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Hadand | runaway AU where her betrothal is dissolved | Open to assorted cross-canon AUs!

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Feel free to ignore this if you don't feel like picking it back up.

Is fine <3

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