Celaena
Celaena could not help but shout out cusses as she sat in the cell and set her bone back into the proper position. She managed to keep it a bit quieter when she made a splint out of two pieces of metal and some cloth, and a makeshift sling from the threadbare blanket given to her from a passing guard. It meant sleeping cold, but at least her arm wouldn’t heal out of shape and limit her movement.
She was just about to lay down in the lumpy bed when a figure approached the cell. She had been pacing the whole day in the metal prison, hoping someone could come so she could vent her anger and jumped up when she saw that it was someone she wouldn’t mind insulting.
“Aradyn,” Celaena spat. “What do you want?”
He regarded her for a moment with his brown eyes. “At least you didn’t get killed by a demon, Graceling. Tell me, what’s it like over there?”
“It’s horrible,” She growled, staring into his eyes with a murderous air. “I would rather die here than be back there.”
“Oh, that might happen, Graceling.” Nathye stretched, lifting his arms into the air and exposing his midriff to her. It was covered in strange markings. “I heard that Menoroth has an extreme dislike for you. He would like to speed your trial up as fast as he can.”
“Of course, but he needs to wait for the Commander and her report.”
“No, he doesn’t. Jothrynn was the second in command, which is good enough here. Plus, the Commander may be dead.” He shifted on his feet, smirking. “Need help?”
Celaena swore, kicking the bars of the cell and immediately recoiling from the burning sensation between her toes. “YES I DO,” She shouted. “But I don’t want help from you.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers, Graceling.”
“Who said I’m begging? You are the one asking if I want help.”
“Do you want it or not? I can let you rot and die here without another thought, and I won’t care. You are not important to me, Graceling.” He spoke each word carefully, a sentence that Celaena would normally shrug off if it wasn’t from Nathye.
“I’m not important to you?” She asked, incredulous. “Are you part sidhe? Are you able to lie? I’ve done so much work for you, I’ve kept so many secrets for you, and you deem me unimportant. That is a lie.”
“We cannot lie, you know that.” He glared. “I can save you.”
Celaena bit her lip and clenched her fists, wishing desperately to be on the other side of those bars, strangling the faerie.
“Fine.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “Save me and demand a favor like you always do. What’ll it be? Someone’s head? A council member’s?”
“Actually,” Nathye grinned. “Have you heard of a human named Charlotte Rowe? She commonly goes by the name of Charlie.”
Flashes of the scenes she witnessed that day flashed before her eyes. She remembered the girl in her jacket introducing herself as Charlie, and then subsequently betraying them to the demons. Celaena took a shaky breath.
“…I’ve heard of her. Works for two demons?”
“That’s the one. I want her gone. Do this for me and we’ll be even. At least until you get caught again.”
“I won’t get caught again, Aradyn. I’m an expert.”
“You got caught twice in two weeks, Graceling.” Nathye raised an eyebrow.
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The Unknown RP
RandomThey say there can only be chaos or order. What they didn't know is that you need one to have the other. Mortals are ''usually'' unaware that their folklore is actually true outside their home, called Mundanus. The ones that do know are often scorne...
