That voice reached through him, taking hold of his heart, threading into his soul, and in less than a moment, he'd gone from wondering at the woman who shared his parents to being unsure exactly where the world was. It was as if he was looking at everything from a distance. Was he going to pass out?
He thought he might.
He didn't even hear what it was that was said. Only that voice that had haunted him for years now, whispering up in his dreams and leaving him with such conflicting reactions that all he could do was drink to make it all fade away while his left wrist burned with the name that he had never been able to excise.
And then she spoke. "I'm sorry it came to this, Leto." And fury ignited. His life, so precariously balanced already, had been upended in one swift move, and she -- she was to blame.
"You led him here!" he growled, shoving into her space, his face inches from hers.
"Now, now, Fenris," came the familiar chiding that had him stepping back out of long-trained reaction, and hating himself afterward. "Don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should."
"I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius!" Fenris spat, at last putting a name to the man before them all. "But I won't let you kill me to get them."
The man chuckled. Laughed, as if it was all of no consequence. "Oh, how little you know, my pet."
Why couldn't he move. Why couldn't he kill this man?! But beneath it all, he knew why. He knew that there was still a possibility, and Danarius knew it, too, which was why that smile spread over his face and left Fenris feeling defiled and unclean. His left hand flexed. Danarius' eyes began to gleam with certainty.
You know what we're doing here.
That voice reached through him, taking hold of his heart, threading into his soul, and in less than a moment, he'd gone from wondering at the woman who shared his parents to being unsure exactly where the world was. It was as if he was looking at everything from a distance. Was he going to pass out?
He thought he might.
He didn't even hear what it was that was said. Only that voice that had haunted him for years now, whispering up in his dreams and leaving him with such conflicting reactions that all he could do was drink to make it all fade away while his left wrist burned with the name that he had never been able to excise.
And then she spoke. "I'm sorry it came to this, Leto." And fury ignited. His life, so precariously balanced already, had been upended in one swift move, and she -- she was to blame.
"You led him here!" he growled, shoving into her space, his face inches from hers.
"Now, now, Fenris," came the familiar chiding that had him stepping back out of long-trained reaction, and hating himself afterward. "Don't blame your sister. She did what any good Imperial citizen should."
"I never wanted these filthy markings, Danarius!" Fenris spat, at last putting a name to the man before them all. "But I won't let you kill me to get them."
The man chuckled. Laughed, as if it was all of no consequence. "Oh, how little you know, my pet."
Why couldn't he move. Why couldn't he kill this man?! But beneath it all, he knew why. He knew that there was still a possibility, and Danarius knew it, too, which was why that smile spread over his face and left Fenris feeling defiled and unclean. His left hand flexed. Danarius' eyes began to gleam with certainty.