“Marius Rockeste, a man with too much money and a very particular interest to blow that money on. And that was collectin’ people. Living people.” His death has been in the news, a big source of gossip and conspiracy for quite a while. But nobody had ever found out about the people he kept prisoner. Like young Ally, his favorite doll and most loyal, or so he thought. Or all of the other ‘dolls’, the people she’d freed. Nobody would ever know, chances were. And she was fine with that, if it meant keeping the others safe.
(Sorry I disappeared there, been busy with home and Christmas stuff)
Dorian raised a brow, "That was you? Wow, I didn't think I'd ever find out who did it but there you go, must've been fate or something."
“Fate is a lie perpetuated by people with somethin’ t’ gain.” Ally muttered, shaking her head. “There’s no fate, just karma and luck. You got unlucky as hell gettin’ found by me, but luckier’n you coulda been, if the police or some slaver’d found ya.”
"Whether it was fate, karma, luck, the universe or some coincidence I'm glad you did. It's better then being dead in the street or something. Besides, you're even helping me, I doubt anyone else would."
Ally was quiet for a moment, before shrugging. "You're probably right about that. Especially if they recognized you. Down there, you're not exactly the most popular of people." She said, eyes flickering along the sides of the road. "Hell, I'm not even sure why I didn't just leave you there. But I guess it was a good thing I didn't."
"Do… do people here just hate me or is it my entire family?" He asked. Dorian new he wasn't the most lovable or likable of people in the world, but surely he had some redeemable qualities that people liked?
“It’s the royal family. And ‘cause you’re one o’ them…” Ally left that for him to fill in the blank. “None o’ us have exactly benefitted from the choices they’ve made. Opposite, actually. Higher taxing without seein’ those taxes go t’ healthcare or the schools, straight up findin’ their families goin’ t’ the gallows for stealin’ a loaf o’ bread ‘cause they couldn’t afford t’ feed their families. Things like that.”
Dorian’s jaw seemed to tighten up a little, though he tried to relax his body, “I understand why everyone hates us. I told father about those laws, about where the money should go, where it needs to go, but does he listen? No, he doesn’t,” He sighed, shaking his head, “Guess it’s my fault for not pushing the matter.”
Ally looked over at him, that intense gaze studying him for a beat too long. "You don't get to blame yourself for the failure of your parents, and people you had no control over. The only ones to blame are them. Maybe I should have realized that a bit sooner myself, instead of holding the same hate for you I did for your father." She said finally, shrugging a shoulder.
Dorian let out a dry laugh, “Yeah well, I’m the crown prince, I could have tired to do something more then I did,” His fist tightened, though it unclenched a moment later, “I’m part of the royal family, it’s my job to do what’s right for my people and I did t. So it is partially, my failure.”
"You're right. It is your job." Ally said, shrugging out of her coat. She was wearing a tank top underneath, the only clean shirt she had had left, which showed off the scars littering her skin and the muscle from pulling herself up the walls of buildings. "But tell me somethin'. Do your folks, your family, ever listen when ya do try? 'Cause what's the point in fighting so hard to get them to change things if they're never gonna listen."
“The point in trying is for the greater good of the kingdom,” Dorian ruffled up his hair, narrowing his eyes at his knees as if they’d wronged him in some way, “I’m supposed to do shit, to help people, and I can’t even get through to my own damn parents and brother. They might not listen but I can try and get throw their thick skulls.”
Ally rolled her eyes, shaking her head. She didn’t argue though knowing there was no winning with him. If he was set on screaming at a brick wall, then he was welcome to do so. She believed firmly in finding other ways when you found a door locked, but it seemed he didn’t see the world the same.
“You ever been to Cavernin? That’s the city we’re headed to next.”
"Once. But it was a long time ago now," He replied. He couldn't remember much from his last trip. He'd been young and probably didn't care too much at the time, "I haven't been back in years."
"Well, you're going back now. I'd have suggested going to Hyval, and stealing a boat to make the trip safer an' quicker, but ya don' seem fond o' 'em." She said, eyes flickering along the road at the sight of a spectral caravan much like theirs. When the little girl sitting with the man up front waved at her, she lifted her hand back, forgetting for a moment that she was with someone as she shot her a smile. "So we're goin' the inland route. Cavernin is known for thieves, so watch out. An' it's also known for brothels, but we ain't got time for ya t' go sight seein'."
The mention of a boat instantly set Dorian on edge, but when Ally said they weren't going anywhere near them, he relaxed once again, "Apart from the sword I don't have anything worthy of being stolen, anyway."
"Your life is a thing anyone would find worth stealing, if ya let 'em down on cash." Ally stated, her eyes watching the ghostly caravan with a small smile until they had passed it. Even then, her head turned to keep an eye on it, making faces at the little girl, before she turned back to the road. Focusing on Dorian. "And if you're dead, that means I'm on my own. Which isn't actually the worst, but I made a promise."
“Promises can be broken. I’ll try not to die but with all this bullshit going on I don’t know how long I can actually keep saying that.” If anyone was to recognise him then he’d immediately become target number one. If he already wasn’t, that was.
"Just because they can be broken don't mean I break mine. You're coming out the other end alive, 'cause I say you are." There was a certain vehemence in her voice that bespoke something else. A past event, or events, that had caused her to refuse breaking promises. "And besides. If you give up, who's going to change anything for the world when you get back?"
He smirked slightly, "I guess that's a fair point. So, how quick are you gonna disappear after all this is over? You're an assassin, and I could one from what I can tell so you just gonna turn into a pile of smoke as soon as I'm back on the throne?"
"Likely right after." Ally shrugged, fiddling with the reins in her hands. "You're right, I'm an assassin. There's no reason for me to do anything but what I was made to do. I'll head to some city, kill a king or noble or anything for some cash, then I'll keep moving. Lucky you. You got to see me, and you get to live. Most people don't."
"Have you ever thought about leaving the assassin business?" Dorian asked, leaning back in the seat, "If no one really knows who you are you could. Earn a living like everyone else without having to kill."
Ally blinked, tilting her head. Of course she had. It wasn't like she had wanted to kill people for a living. "Yeah. I have. Many times." She said, looking up at the sky, the sun nearing the midway point in the vast abyss of blue.
"I started life as an orphan, then became a thief. When I was grabbed, I lost the little I had given myself. I died there, in those barbed wire chains and that manor that smelled of rosemary. Stripped of everything and killed mercilessly, to create the perfect doll." Her voice was strangely steady, but even more strangely empty. "So when I killed him and left, I was a ghost. And what can a ghost do better than create more ghosts? Where is someone like me supposed to go, after living a half-life like this. What else am I supposed to do?"
Dorian listened closely, wanting to know more but didn't want to ask and over step, "When you.. escaped, you could have tried to reinvent yourself, tried to find yourself again," He shrugged, "But that's hard, and it's your life. You could try now but…"
"There was nothing to find, your Highness." Ally stated, releasing the reins. She lifted one arm, using the other to tap an intricate scar on her forearm. "Where I'm from, they call me a Slummer. A Slummer, and a thief. I was nothing as it was, just a kid who'd been taken in by a gang of criminals. He killed them, when he took me. Every single one of the few people I had called family. There was nothing left but myself, and when he took that, there was very much nothing. I could only move forward, and that meant doing what I could to survive and keep others safe. Some of us don't get to reinvent, we're stuck as what we've become."
