Their insides twisted as the very real possibility that they’d have to actually use it dropped into the pit of their stomach like an anvil. Ren hated violence; they hadn’t lied when they’d said as much while visiting the Underburrows at their home. But for Pansy, they’d do anything. Even this.
Agvaldir cast a look back over his shoulder, makingeye-contact not with the dwarf, who would’ve undoubtedly jumped at the opportunity to reduce Ren to a fine paste, even without the promise of fresh territory to claim, but with one of the humans, a blond, heavily-stubbled man, who seemed more interested in toying with his dagger than whatever was going on in front of him.
“Take care of this,” Agvaldir said, jerking his chin towards Ren.
The blond man gave one last flip of his knife and, with a heavy sigh, shoved himself off the wall he’d been leaning against. “Really making me work for my cut this time, huh, boss? Staking out the place last night wasn’t enough to pay my dues?”
“Not when you nearly got caught,” grumbled Agvaldir.
“Wait. That was you in the woods?” Pansy blurted, her eyes flying wide.
The blond man grinned.
Quick as a lightning bolt, he darted towards Ren, the dagger’s serrated edge flashing bright in the oppressive glow of the surrounding lanterns. Miraculously, Ren managed to catch it with their own blade, though the force of the blow sent even their teeth rattling. They clenched their jaw, steeling themself against the truth coiling in their belly, sour and cold. This wasn’t even a contest, so wildly were they outmatched. A single glance at the man’s bored expression proved as much, as did the strike that came thereafter, even stronger than the first.
Ren’s arms gave out almost immediately, their entire being reverberating with the harshclangof steel against steel. They only just managed to flatten themself against the earth as their guard broke, sending the man’s blade sweeping through empty air instead of their side. Unfortunately, there was no time tocatch their breath.
Realizing that Ren wasn’t going to go down easy, the man came at them more seriously, his features rearranging themselves into a hard, expressionless mask. Ren threw themself from one dodge to the next, the world narrowing to nothing beyond the dagger arcing towards them. Pansy might’ve screamed their name at some point – or, perhaps, several points – but amid the ever-mounting wails of distress, rising from the retreating crowd like a haunt, her voice became nigh on impossible to parse.
Eventually, Agvaldir barked, “Stop toying with them!” Evidently, he hadn’t expected this to take more than a second or two.
But how long had it been exactly? By now, Ren was gasping for breath, their hair clinging to their skin in damp, matted clumps. A worrying tingle had also started in their joints, the promise that they were close to reaching their limit. Attacking had never been an option – not against this opponent – and soon, defending themself would be equally impossible. All they could do was hope they’d bought enough time.
The blond man dove for Ren again, the angle of his blade plain to see. Perhaps he was getting tired too, sloppy.Thank the Land for that. Ren needed the break. They swiveled out of the way, circumventing the man’s dagger with plenty of room to spare – just in time to feel a white-hot lash of pain carve across their opposite side.
“What—” Ren staggered backwards, their free hand flying reflexively to their side. Hot wetness flooded out from in-between their fingers, red and sticky.Blood, they realized, with a disconnected sense of awareness, as if they’d been pulled out of their body and left suspended overhead, free to observe likesome sort of impartial deity.
The man flashed them a smile, teeth as bright as his dagger, then lifted up what Ren had assumed was his non-dominant hand, revealing another knife, this one painted a deep, sickening crimson. “They never watch the other hand.” He giggled.
Screw you, Ren wanted to say, but they were falling, dropping into the dirt like a stone. Blood pooled around them, quicker than the earth could drink down.
“Ren!” Pansy cried, shoving herself into their line of sight as she collapsed onto her knees beside them. “Oh, gods. You’re— There’s so muchblood.” Her fingers, doubtless attempting to apply pressure to the wound, slid uselessly across it, unable to gain solid purchase.
“’m fine…” Ren slurred, their vision going hazy around the edges. “It doesn’t even hurt…”
Clearly, Pansy didn’t consider this a good thing because she let out a half-choked sob, her hands, now shiny and wet, flying to her mouth in distress. Worse, Blossom seemed to agree with her assessment.
“Just stay calm,” she told Ren, a flicker of panic jolting across the otherwise even cadence of her voice as she pressed a cloth against their side. A handkerchief, they realized dimly, cream-colored with tiny sunflowers embroidered into one corner. It was soaked through in seconds.
“Ugh.” Agvaldir rolled his eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” he told his henchman. “Put the goblin out of its misery. We’re not heartless animals here.”
“Don’t you dare!” Pansy snapped, back on her feet before Ren could even blink. She’d picked up their dagger too, discarded on their way down, and held it in front of her with trembling hands, her stance betraying every ounce of her inexperience.
“You gotta… one hand…” Ren tried to say, but their tongue had turned heavy and thick in their mouth, weighed down by the same exhaustion that had drawn over the rest of them.
Pansy, however, wasn’t listening. “If you want Ren, then you’re going to have to go through me first!”
“Oh, no, Miss Underburrow, we don’t want that,” Agvaldir said. And loath though Ren was to admit it, they agreed with him on this point. “That being said,” the wizard continued after a beat, the spark of something like an idea rising to his eye, “perhaps spilling a little blood is what we need. It wouldn’t be the first time an arcane lock such as this exacted such a price.”
Horror swelled in Ren’s breast. “No,” they croaked, shoulders heaving as they struggled to sit up, a movement that sent a fresh swell of warm liquid cresting down their side. “Leave her alone…”
“Stay still!” Blossom hissed, pressing down harder, such that Ren had no choice but to lie flat.
Agvaldir ignored them. Snapping his fingers, he commanded, “Bring Miss Underburrow to me.”
Years of unquestioning obedience to Agvaldir had left their mark. The other halflings could only watch, pinned in place by an all-too-potent variety of fear, steeped over multiple generations. Their thoughts were plain, etched into their features via a heavy hand. Against such a large adversary, what could they hope to accomplish?
The blond man, who’d had no compunctions about hurting Ren, seemed to have more restraint with respect to Pansy. Sheathing his daggers, he let out a breath more appropriate for an overworked employee laboring beneath an especially demanding boss, and promptly heaved Pansy up over hisshoulder like she was nothing more than a sack of potatoes.
