Save the Rest for the Crows - Part Two, for amichevole, Morgan/Prentiss, FRT
Title: Save the Rest for the Crows - Part Two
Author: arwen_lalaith
Recipient: amichevole
Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss
Rating: FRT
Word Count: 10,038
Warnings/spoilers: None given
Summary/prompt: AU: BAU with a twist, e.g. aliens, robots, zombies. Fifteenth century, Venice. There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold...
Part One
“I'm telling you, if anyone will know, it's Penelope,” Emily assured, leading the motely crew that had been accumulated over the evening. From the way the flickering light from the candle in her hand fell on the faces of her followers, she knew that the majority of them had little to no faith in her, even if she held more power than the five of them combined. “She knows the library better than anyone, she'll know where to find the geneology of any major clan.”
She let them have their doubts, though, because Derek, at least, believed her and no one was foolish enough to speak out against something he was so protective of.
They barely so much as stepped inside the cavernous room, when they were startled by a voice warning, “You had better not be bringing an open flame near my books...”
“Don't worry, Penelope,” Emily laughed, “It's covered.”
“Oh, it's just you, Emily... I know you'd never hurt my babies.” A woman in a bright dress appeared from behind a wall of shelves. “What can I do for you, lovey?”
“We need to know the last surviving heir to the clan of our rivals. I'm sure you've heard word of...”
“The murders? Yeah,” she preemptively answered. “Well, you, my dear, are in luck. I was doing a little digging, just in case you needed my genius...and I came across this.”
Emily took the book Penelope proffered, flipping through to a marked page. Her brows knit as her gaze flicked across the page. Frowning, she looked up, then passed the book to Derek. The book travelled from one to the next, each bearing the same look of puzzlement.
“How can he just have disappeared?” General Hotchner eventually voiced what they all were thinking. “Could he haved died?”
Penelope adamantly shook her head. “Absolutely not. George Foyet is still alive or there would be some record of it.”
“If he is still alive,” David said, the degree of derision in his tone making it clear that he didn't think he was, “Then what has happened to him that there is not even a record in existance?”
“He is operating under some assumed identity,” Penelope answered without hesitation. “Though, there is no way to know what that might be...” she admitted regretfully.
“What good is that going to do us?” Dr. Reid questioned. “Even if we know his name, how does that help us to find him?”
There were several long moments of contemplative silence, each trying to solve the riddle of pieces they had been left. “Do we know what he looks like?” Jennifer said meekly, surprising everyone. Seeing the six pairs of eyes turned her way, she retreated into herself shyly, but elaborated nonetheless, “Someone here tonight has to have seen him. If we can have every guest in attendance aware of whom they should looking for, he will have no way to escape and a much more difficult time getting victims alone...”
Even if the idea had come from a castle servant, there was no denying it was a good one. They turned to Penelope, who was already gone; she could be heard muttering to herself as she danced between the shelves, pulling books into her arms. Stacking them on a vast table before them, she flipped through the first to a print of an old oil painting. She began sketching something out on a weathered piece of parchment that appeared to contain notes hurriedly scrawled as she came across them in her research.
Pages were turned at an almost inhuman speed as she effortlessly found whatever it was she required. They all stood watching her, transfixed by her skill, hardly even realizing when she turned the paper towards them with a rough, albeit realistically detailed, rendearing of a face. “This is an approximation of what George Foyet would look like today.”
“No.” Emily shook her head, causing everyone's attention to turn this time to focus on her. “That's Peter Rhea. He's the local physician.”
“Emily, what are you talking about?” Derek asked, confused. He gently turned her to look at him. “Dr. Reid is the castle physician, your physician. Why would you have seen the town physician?”
“I'm not ignorant of what goes on in within the castle. Everyone reports back to Mother, everyone in her employ is in her pocket because she has filled them so completely with the fear of God that they will do anything they can to make her like them in the hopes that she won't fire them, much less have them locked in a dungeon to starve. If I had gone to Dr. Reid under the suspicion that I was with child, the news would have reached Mother's ears with unholy speed. You saw how she reacted when she heard...”
As she trailed off, he once again gave her that heart-wrenching look of sadness and hurt, but he did not seem to dwell, thinking aloud, “So, George Foyet is posing as the town's physician...but why? What does he gain from this?”
“Information of some kind?” David suggested, “The town is a bustling rumor mill. If he hoped to find some leverage with which to convince Madam Prentiss to exchange the amulet, he would have to learn it somehow that would not raise suspicion.”
“Perhaps he somehow learned of my secret visits to town and had the intention of taking me hostage, under the impression that if anything were to be more valuable than a priceless heirloom to Mother, it would be the life of her own child...” Emily said with a snort of laughter, clearly doubting the value of her life in her mother's eyes.
“Either way,” the General said, “He is in the castle now and he is not going to rest until he has the amulet in his hands, even if that means killing everyone in the castle. He has fortune on his side tonight - we have nowhere to go as the storm has made the only way off the property completely impassable. We have no choice but to go searching for him.”
..........
“Are you angry with me?” Emily asked quietly, almost guiltily as Derek accompanied her to her chambers in search of the final piece necessary for the plan.
He knew full well to what she was referring, but he nonetheless asked, “Why would I be angry with you?”
“Because I didn't tell you I was seeing the physician in town, much less why I was seeing him...”
“I'm not angry,” he replied flatly. But the slight pause before he answered told her more than enough.
“We have a life here; a secret life, but a good one nonetheless. I could not have you give that up for nothing, I had to be sure of the pregnancy...and I knew that if you knew I was seeing a physician, you would never rest until you knew why.”
“Is it wrong to care about you?” he inquired, obviously emotionally bruised, “Is it wrong to want to protect you and our family?”
“No, but...”
Derek shook his head. “We shouldn't have been here. This shouldn't have happened.”
Emily huffed a little annoyed breath, her patience shortening. “Are you insinuating that this is my fault because I refused to leave on your terms? Because I was only doing that to protect us. I know what would have drawn her suspicion...”
But they were both much too stubborn to admit that the other person was right, at least not in the heat of the moment. They spent the remainder of the stair climb in frosty silence. As they reached her chamber door, Emily stepped halfway inside before he could react. With a glance over her shoulder, she ordered, “Stand guard out here,” then slammed the door behind her.
Scarcely minutes had passed before she emerged in possession of an antique necklance and a much cooler head. “Derek?” she called, glancing first one way and then the other, seeing no sign of him. She pursed her lips worriedly when she got no response, then called his name louder, but to no avail.
This wasn't like him at all, even if he was upset with her. Even if all his romantic feelings towards her, all his sense of familial obligation towards their child evaporated, he was still charged with the duty of protecting her at all costs and he did not take his responsibilities as a soldier lightly. No, it would take something of a seriously drastic nature to just cause him to vanish.
She was left with only one assumption...the killer had him hostage, if he hadn't already been left for dead.
The next thing she remembered was nearly toppling into Penelope as she sprinted into the library, internally panicking. “Slow down, girl,” Penelope scolded, gripping her shoulders, “Where is the fire?”
“Der...Derek,” she huffed, out of breath, “He... Gone...” The words seemed to make her nearly hysterical as she fought back tears, her thoughts stalling in their tracks.
Dr. Reid hurried over, followed shortly by the remainder of the group. He sat her down, urging her to breathe deeply and calm herself. His soothing was interrupted by General Hotchner demanding, “Do you have the decoy?”
Still fighting for breath, she pulled the charm from inside the bodice of the dress, tugging the chain from around her neck. The General plucked it from her palm and turned to return to his planning with David, but was halted in his tracks as Emily once again found her voice, “George Foyet has Derek...”
For a moment of stunned, disbelieving silence, Emily almost thought General Hotchner was going to leave Derek to whatever fate happened to be awaiting him at the hands of George Foyet and eliminate his so-called competition for her hand...
But, just as she was about to pull him aside and pull rank on him, he finally spoke up, “We don't have long to act, we know George Foyet works quickly. We need to get Madam Prentiss to reach out to him.”
“She's not going to be happy with that,” Jennifer voiced the obvious, “Forgive my boldness.”
“There is no other way,” David said, “Men such as him cannot see any other way as being right but their own. We have to give him his way or at least let him think he's getting it.”
“Is anyone else starting to get a very bad feeling about this?” Penelope muttered under her breath.
..........
“I can't do it, I can't...” Emily shook her head, not believing the words even as they came out of her mouth. “Derek would never let me go toe to toe with a known killer, certainly not when he's in no position to protect me.”
“Miss Prentiss...” David started to say, but she didn't give him the chance.
“I know. I know, I know, I know,” Emily snapped, tossing her hands in the air aggravatedly. “I am completely aware of the situation. This is the only option, I get it. But I don't think you understand what you're asking of me... Did you miss the chapter of this saga where that charming sir announced to the castle at large that I'm with child?”
They all took the question to be rhetorical, even if it hadn't been intended as such. “We're all going to be there on the roof with you should things take a turn for the worse, but we must stay hidden from his view or there is no tell what he might do, but it would undoubtedly endanger Lieutenant Morgan further,” General Hotchner directed.
Emily nodded, only half absorbing what he was telling her...everything beyond the fact that she would essentially be well and truely alone went entirely unheard. She'd always wished to be left to herself, for even five minutes, but all her life, there had constantly been someone else there, someone ready to stand between her and any threat against her. She wasn't afraid to do what she had to in order to save the life of the one she loved because wasn't a coward by any stretch of the imagination - she had never asked that anyone lay their life on the line for her - but that didn't make it any less disconcerting to face off with someone who had brutally and repeatedly stabbed at least two people...
She showed the General, David, and Dr. Reid where the enterance to the secret roof-top passage was hidden behind the tapestry despicting the crucifixion of Christ, then she continued on to the main staircase, hoping for all she was worth that George Foyet was either unaware of the secret staircase or hadn't considered her using it.
Stepping out between the stone turrets, it took her a moment or two to regain her bearings amidst the pitch darkness and the chaos of the still raging storm. The weak beam of her naptha lamp revealed no signs of anything living aside from herself and she began to wonder if they hadn't been tricked.
Despite the worry pounding in her chest that the mouse was at play while the cats were away, she had to ensure that he wasn't just hiding, trying to gain the element of surprise. Stepping to the very edge of the roof, she extended her arm over the ledge, the chain of the necklace balled in her fist. “Show yourself or I drop it,” she threatened. “Don't do anything foolish or you shall never see the amulet again.”
From the shadows, emerged an almost ghastly pale face, grinning disconcertingly. “I knew I liked you, Emily Anne Prentiss...” he chuckled. “She's a little spitfire, isn't she, Derek?” he taunted, pulling his hostage into the small spot of light. “I can understand why you wanted to lay with her...but did you really have to marry her? She's got to be easier than that...”
Derek made a low growling sound, deep in his throat, not about to stand idly by as someone spoke ill of his wife, even if he was bound at the wrists and ankles. But George Foyet only laughed to himself, seeming throughly pleased with himself.
“Derek!” Emily cried, seeing his swollen and bloodied face, his mouth gagged. She made to take a step forwards, but that seemed to be what George Foyet had been waiting for...
Emily froze mid-stride as a knife blade came to press against Derek's throat. “One step closer and I shall spill his blood atop your family castle,” he narrated unnecessarily. “Show me the amulet.”
Emily did as she was told, bringing the chain within the glow of the lamp for him to examine. She held her breath as he studied it for several moments - this was what would be the downfall of their plan and there was no way to tell when it would be set off.
As if satisfied, he turned back to Derek. “What do you know...she must really love you. The only thing her family owns of any real value and she just traded it to me for your life. Personally, I wouldn't say your simple soldier's existance is worth even the chain... Though, I suppose one man's trash is another man's treasure.”
“Stop it!” Emily yelled above the wind. “Let him go! That was the deal!”
“I don't think so, my love. First, you must return the amulet to me and once it is again in my possession, then and only then, is he free to go.”
“And if I don't agree?”
George Foyet shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way.” He pressed the blade tighter against Derek's neck, a small smear of blood appearing as the skin was broken.
“No!” she inevitably cried out, not daring to call his bluff.
“I thought as much. Since I am a fair man, though, I will cut his ankle bindings first. Then, you will walk over to me and hand me the amulet. Then, you are free to make a run for it before I change my mind.”
Emily attempted to remain calm even as her heart began beating for all it was worth, seemingly attempting to escape from her chest. They would only have split seconds in which to make their escape before George Foyet realized that he had been tricked; Derek had to have figured out the plan, but there was no telling whether he was in any condition to help her act on it.
There was no other choice, though, so she began the perilous dead man's walk towards George Foyet. She tried not to think of it in that sense, though; she kept herself focused on Derek and getting him back.
Her feet slipped beneath her on the rain-slicked stones and she began to doubt if she was going to make it that far before falling to her death, but a hand reached out to catch her, her shaking fingers curling around the warm, wet palm. For a moment, she dared to hope it was Derek before reality caught up with her and she realized she was holding hands with him, that monster...
Snatching her hand back as if scalded, she pulled the necklace from the pocket in her gown, letting him see before pressing it into his palm. She readied herself to run and could practically feel the bunching energy of Derek doing the same beside her when, as if on cue, the storm once again came to life and blew out the sputtering flame of the naptha lamp.
Everyone froze, not daring to move for fear of taking a step in the wrong direction and falling to certain death. Emily wondered to herself what had become of the three men, at least one of whom should have another light. She only had a few moments in which to wonder, though, before a loud scuffle caught her attention.
Damp feet smacked against the stone, grunts and groans were emitted as two or more people struggled, voices sounded unintelligibly in the confusion. Then, she felt George Foyet's hand slip away from hers, amulet still in his possession and she began to wonder if he was attempting to have his cake and eat it to. She flung an arm out, searching for Derek's presence, her heart sinking as nothing but electrically charged air slid across her palm...until she finally connected to a warm body, earning a muffled grunt of pain in response.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips in relief and she pulled him closer, though whether for his protection or her comfort, she couldn't be sure. Her hands wandered blindly over his body, knowing its landscape well enough to feel for wounds without any light at all. Finally comforted that he suffered little more than meager scrapes, she pulled him in for a kiss, not caring in the least what was going on around them and if anyone could see.
The bolt of lightening that rent the sky just then could not have had better timing had it been coreographed for a production of William Shakepeare's controversial new play about the Scottish king... The couple pulled apart in alarm, just in time to see a small pale form launch itself at George Foyet, sending the both of them over the wall with a wail.
Even though the noise of the landing could not be heard, there could be no doubt that neither had survived. “What just happened?” Derek asked as Emily removed his gag, shooting a look of confusion to the three men who had just joined them. He worked out something in his mind, then became impossibly more puzzled. “Who was that?”
Evidently, they had not bothered to ask themselves that question because they too looked from one to the other before wearing matching expressions to Derek's. The answer came in the form of an out of breath Penelope popping her head outside. “Has anyone seen Jennifer? She was with me a moment ago, then she said you had forgotten something...”
Author: arwen_lalaith
Recipient: amichevole
Pairing: Morgan/Prentiss
Rating: FRT
Word Count: 10,038
Warnings/spoilers: None given
Summary/prompt: AU: BAU with a twist, e.g. aliens, robots, zombies. Fifteenth century, Venice. There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold...
Part One
“I'm telling you, if anyone will know, it's Penelope,” Emily assured, leading the motely crew that had been accumulated over the evening. From the way the flickering light from the candle in her hand fell on the faces of her followers, she knew that the majority of them had little to no faith in her, even if she held more power than the five of them combined. “She knows the library better than anyone, she'll know where to find the geneology of any major clan.”
She let them have their doubts, though, because Derek, at least, believed her and no one was foolish enough to speak out against something he was so protective of.
They barely so much as stepped inside the cavernous room, when they were startled by a voice warning, “You had better not be bringing an open flame near my books...”
“Don't worry, Penelope,” Emily laughed, “It's covered.”
“Oh, it's just you, Emily... I know you'd never hurt my babies.” A woman in a bright dress appeared from behind a wall of shelves. “What can I do for you, lovey?”
“We need to know the last surviving heir to the clan of our rivals. I'm sure you've heard word of...”
“The murders? Yeah,” she preemptively answered. “Well, you, my dear, are in luck. I was doing a little digging, just in case you needed my genius...and I came across this.”
Emily took the book Penelope proffered, flipping through to a marked page. Her brows knit as her gaze flicked across the page. Frowning, she looked up, then passed the book to Derek. The book travelled from one to the next, each bearing the same look of puzzlement.
“How can he just have disappeared?” General Hotchner eventually voiced what they all were thinking. “Could he haved died?”
Penelope adamantly shook her head. “Absolutely not. George Foyet is still alive or there would be some record of it.”
“If he is still alive,” David said, the degree of derision in his tone making it clear that he didn't think he was, “Then what has happened to him that there is not even a record in existance?”
“He is operating under some assumed identity,” Penelope answered without hesitation. “Though, there is no way to know what that might be...” she admitted regretfully.
“What good is that going to do us?” Dr. Reid questioned. “Even if we know his name, how does that help us to find him?”
There were several long moments of contemplative silence, each trying to solve the riddle of pieces they had been left. “Do we know what he looks like?” Jennifer said meekly, surprising everyone. Seeing the six pairs of eyes turned her way, she retreated into herself shyly, but elaborated nonetheless, “Someone here tonight has to have seen him. If we can have every guest in attendance aware of whom they should looking for, he will have no way to escape and a much more difficult time getting victims alone...”
Even if the idea had come from a castle servant, there was no denying it was a good one. They turned to Penelope, who was already gone; she could be heard muttering to herself as she danced between the shelves, pulling books into her arms. Stacking them on a vast table before them, she flipped through the first to a print of an old oil painting. She began sketching something out on a weathered piece of parchment that appeared to contain notes hurriedly scrawled as she came across them in her research.
Pages were turned at an almost inhuman speed as she effortlessly found whatever it was she required. They all stood watching her, transfixed by her skill, hardly even realizing when she turned the paper towards them with a rough, albeit realistically detailed, rendearing of a face. “This is an approximation of what George Foyet would look like today.”
“No.” Emily shook her head, causing everyone's attention to turn this time to focus on her. “That's Peter Rhea. He's the local physician.”
“Emily, what are you talking about?” Derek asked, confused. He gently turned her to look at him. “Dr. Reid is the castle physician, your physician. Why would you have seen the town physician?”
“I'm not ignorant of what goes on in within the castle. Everyone reports back to Mother, everyone in her employ is in her pocket because she has filled them so completely with the fear of God that they will do anything they can to make her like them in the hopes that she won't fire them, much less have them locked in a dungeon to starve. If I had gone to Dr. Reid under the suspicion that I was with child, the news would have reached Mother's ears with unholy speed. You saw how she reacted when she heard...”
As she trailed off, he once again gave her that heart-wrenching look of sadness and hurt, but he did not seem to dwell, thinking aloud, “So, George Foyet is posing as the town's physician...but why? What does he gain from this?”
“Information of some kind?” David suggested, “The town is a bustling rumor mill. If he hoped to find some leverage with which to convince Madam Prentiss to exchange the amulet, he would have to learn it somehow that would not raise suspicion.”
“Perhaps he somehow learned of my secret visits to town and had the intention of taking me hostage, under the impression that if anything were to be more valuable than a priceless heirloom to Mother, it would be the life of her own child...” Emily said with a snort of laughter, clearly doubting the value of her life in her mother's eyes.
“Either way,” the General said, “He is in the castle now and he is not going to rest until he has the amulet in his hands, even if that means killing everyone in the castle. He has fortune on his side tonight - we have nowhere to go as the storm has made the only way off the property completely impassable. We have no choice but to go searching for him.”
..........
“Are you angry with me?” Emily asked quietly, almost guiltily as Derek accompanied her to her chambers in search of the final piece necessary for the plan.
He knew full well to what she was referring, but he nonetheless asked, “Why would I be angry with you?”
“Because I didn't tell you I was seeing the physician in town, much less why I was seeing him...”
“I'm not angry,” he replied flatly. But the slight pause before he answered told her more than enough.
“We have a life here; a secret life, but a good one nonetheless. I could not have you give that up for nothing, I had to be sure of the pregnancy...and I knew that if you knew I was seeing a physician, you would never rest until you knew why.”
“Is it wrong to care about you?” he inquired, obviously emotionally bruised, “Is it wrong to want to protect you and our family?”
“No, but...”
Derek shook his head. “We shouldn't have been here. This shouldn't have happened.”
Emily huffed a little annoyed breath, her patience shortening. “Are you insinuating that this is my fault because I refused to leave on your terms? Because I was only doing that to protect us. I know what would have drawn her suspicion...”
But they were both much too stubborn to admit that the other person was right, at least not in the heat of the moment. They spent the remainder of the stair climb in frosty silence. As they reached her chamber door, Emily stepped halfway inside before he could react. With a glance over her shoulder, she ordered, “Stand guard out here,” then slammed the door behind her.
Scarcely minutes had passed before she emerged in possession of an antique necklance and a much cooler head. “Derek?” she called, glancing first one way and then the other, seeing no sign of him. She pursed her lips worriedly when she got no response, then called his name louder, but to no avail.
This wasn't like him at all, even if he was upset with her. Even if all his romantic feelings towards her, all his sense of familial obligation towards their child evaporated, he was still charged with the duty of protecting her at all costs and he did not take his responsibilities as a soldier lightly. No, it would take something of a seriously drastic nature to just cause him to vanish.
She was left with only one assumption...the killer had him hostage, if he hadn't already been left for dead.
The next thing she remembered was nearly toppling into Penelope as she sprinted into the library, internally panicking. “Slow down, girl,” Penelope scolded, gripping her shoulders, “Where is the fire?”
“Der...Derek,” she huffed, out of breath, “He... Gone...” The words seemed to make her nearly hysterical as she fought back tears, her thoughts stalling in their tracks.
Dr. Reid hurried over, followed shortly by the remainder of the group. He sat her down, urging her to breathe deeply and calm herself. His soothing was interrupted by General Hotchner demanding, “Do you have the decoy?”
Still fighting for breath, she pulled the charm from inside the bodice of the dress, tugging the chain from around her neck. The General plucked it from her palm and turned to return to his planning with David, but was halted in his tracks as Emily once again found her voice, “George Foyet has Derek...”
For a moment of stunned, disbelieving silence, Emily almost thought General Hotchner was going to leave Derek to whatever fate happened to be awaiting him at the hands of George Foyet and eliminate his so-called competition for her hand...
But, just as she was about to pull him aside and pull rank on him, he finally spoke up, “We don't have long to act, we know George Foyet works quickly. We need to get Madam Prentiss to reach out to him.”
“She's not going to be happy with that,” Jennifer voiced the obvious, “Forgive my boldness.”
“There is no other way,” David said, “Men such as him cannot see any other way as being right but their own. We have to give him his way or at least let him think he's getting it.”
“Is anyone else starting to get a very bad feeling about this?” Penelope muttered under her breath.
..........
“I can't do it, I can't...” Emily shook her head, not believing the words even as they came out of her mouth. “Derek would never let me go toe to toe with a known killer, certainly not when he's in no position to protect me.”
“Miss Prentiss...” David started to say, but she didn't give him the chance.
“I know. I know, I know, I know,” Emily snapped, tossing her hands in the air aggravatedly. “I am completely aware of the situation. This is the only option, I get it. But I don't think you understand what you're asking of me... Did you miss the chapter of this saga where that charming sir announced to the castle at large that I'm with child?”
They all took the question to be rhetorical, even if it hadn't been intended as such. “We're all going to be there on the roof with you should things take a turn for the worse, but we must stay hidden from his view or there is no tell what he might do, but it would undoubtedly endanger Lieutenant Morgan further,” General Hotchner directed.
Emily nodded, only half absorbing what he was telling her...everything beyond the fact that she would essentially be well and truely alone went entirely unheard. She'd always wished to be left to herself, for even five minutes, but all her life, there had constantly been someone else there, someone ready to stand between her and any threat against her. She wasn't afraid to do what she had to in order to save the life of the one she loved because wasn't a coward by any stretch of the imagination - she had never asked that anyone lay their life on the line for her - but that didn't make it any less disconcerting to face off with someone who had brutally and repeatedly stabbed at least two people...
She showed the General, David, and Dr. Reid where the enterance to the secret roof-top passage was hidden behind the tapestry despicting the crucifixion of Christ, then she continued on to the main staircase, hoping for all she was worth that George Foyet was either unaware of the secret staircase or hadn't considered her using it.
Stepping out between the stone turrets, it took her a moment or two to regain her bearings amidst the pitch darkness and the chaos of the still raging storm. The weak beam of her naptha lamp revealed no signs of anything living aside from herself and she began to wonder if they hadn't been tricked.
Despite the worry pounding in her chest that the mouse was at play while the cats were away, she had to ensure that he wasn't just hiding, trying to gain the element of surprise. Stepping to the very edge of the roof, she extended her arm over the ledge, the chain of the necklace balled in her fist. “Show yourself or I drop it,” she threatened. “Don't do anything foolish or you shall never see the amulet again.”
From the shadows, emerged an almost ghastly pale face, grinning disconcertingly. “I knew I liked you, Emily Anne Prentiss...” he chuckled. “She's a little spitfire, isn't she, Derek?” he taunted, pulling his hostage into the small spot of light. “I can understand why you wanted to lay with her...but did you really have to marry her? She's got to be easier than that...”
Derek made a low growling sound, deep in his throat, not about to stand idly by as someone spoke ill of his wife, even if he was bound at the wrists and ankles. But George Foyet only laughed to himself, seeming throughly pleased with himself.
“Derek!” Emily cried, seeing his swollen and bloodied face, his mouth gagged. She made to take a step forwards, but that seemed to be what George Foyet had been waiting for...
Emily froze mid-stride as a knife blade came to press against Derek's throat. “One step closer and I shall spill his blood atop your family castle,” he narrated unnecessarily. “Show me the amulet.”
Emily did as she was told, bringing the chain within the glow of the lamp for him to examine. She held her breath as he studied it for several moments - this was what would be the downfall of their plan and there was no way to tell when it would be set off.
As if satisfied, he turned back to Derek. “What do you know...she must really love you. The only thing her family owns of any real value and she just traded it to me for your life. Personally, I wouldn't say your simple soldier's existance is worth even the chain... Though, I suppose one man's trash is another man's treasure.”
“Stop it!” Emily yelled above the wind. “Let him go! That was the deal!”
“I don't think so, my love. First, you must return the amulet to me and once it is again in my possession, then and only then, is he free to go.”
“And if I don't agree?”
George Foyet shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way.” He pressed the blade tighter against Derek's neck, a small smear of blood appearing as the skin was broken.
“No!” she inevitably cried out, not daring to call his bluff.
“I thought as much. Since I am a fair man, though, I will cut his ankle bindings first. Then, you will walk over to me and hand me the amulet. Then, you are free to make a run for it before I change my mind.”
Emily attempted to remain calm even as her heart began beating for all it was worth, seemingly attempting to escape from her chest. They would only have split seconds in which to make their escape before George Foyet realized that he had been tricked; Derek had to have figured out the plan, but there was no telling whether he was in any condition to help her act on it.
There was no other choice, though, so she began the perilous dead man's walk towards George Foyet. She tried not to think of it in that sense, though; she kept herself focused on Derek and getting him back.
Her feet slipped beneath her on the rain-slicked stones and she began to doubt if she was going to make it that far before falling to her death, but a hand reached out to catch her, her shaking fingers curling around the warm, wet palm. For a moment, she dared to hope it was Derek before reality caught up with her and she realized she was holding hands with him, that monster...
Snatching her hand back as if scalded, she pulled the necklace from the pocket in her gown, letting him see before pressing it into his palm. She readied herself to run and could practically feel the bunching energy of Derek doing the same beside her when, as if on cue, the storm once again came to life and blew out the sputtering flame of the naptha lamp.
Everyone froze, not daring to move for fear of taking a step in the wrong direction and falling to certain death. Emily wondered to herself what had become of the three men, at least one of whom should have another light. She only had a few moments in which to wonder, though, before a loud scuffle caught her attention.
Damp feet smacked against the stone, grunts and groans were emitted as two or more people struggled, voices sounded unintelligibly in the confusion. Then, she felt George Foyet's hand slip away from hers, amulet still in his possession and she began to wonder if he was attempting to have his cake and eat it to. She flung an arm out, searching for Derek's presence, her heart sinking as nothing but electrically charged air slid across her palm...until she finally connected to a warm body, earning a muffled grunt of pain in response.
A nervous laugh escaped her lips in relief and she pulled him closer, though whether for his protection or her comfort, she couldn't be sure. Her hands wandered blindly over his body, knowing its landscape well enough to feel for wounds without any light at all. Finally comforted that he suffered little more than meager scrapes, she pulled him in for a kiss, not caring in the least what was going on around them and if anyone could see.
The bolt of lightening that rent the sky just then could not have had better timing had it been coreographed for a production of William Shakepeare's controversial new play about the Scottish king... The couple pulled apart in alarm, just in time to see a small pale form launch itself at George Foyet, sending the both of them over the wall with a wail.
Even though the noise of the landing could not be heard, there could be no doubt that neither had survived. “What just happened?” Derek asked as Emily removed his gag, shooting a look of confusion to the three men who had just joined them. He worked out something in his mind, then became impossibly more puzzled. “Who was that?”
Evidently, they had not bothered to ask themselves that question because they too looked from one to the other before wearing matching expressions to Derek's. The answer came in the form of an out of breath Penelope popping her head outside. “Has anyone seen Jennifer? She was with me a moment ago, then she said you had forgotten something...”