abraxaslogs | Hollow insides

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Hollow insides - open

Who Eponine and whoever fancies

Where Castle Thorne and the Horizon

When Some time mid - late Octoberish

What Eponine's been brought back to Thorne after spending a night in a cell for attempting to murder Susan.
Horizon - trying to deal with the consequences of her ridiculous behaviour

warnings Eponine is a walking trigger - murder, suicide, blood, making bad decisions. I'll update as needed.

Thorne

Eponine arrives back at the castle as the sun rises. She's sat subdued in the wagon the entire way, with her face buried in her ragged, blood stained skirts. She's a mess; her nose is broken from when she fought Julie in the dungeons a couple of months back, but now her jaw's broken too, and she's missing a couple more teeth.
She gets off the wagon when she's told to. Not that she has much of a choice. If she returns to Nott, she'll have to face the Lord of Justice for her crimes and that will be her locked up for a long time. She's not crying, but she's definitely intimidated as she walks with a confidence she definitely doesn't feel into the courtyard.

Everything looks unfamiliar. She has no idea where to go. But a bloody, slack jawed young woman is definitely attracting unwanted attention, so she moves over to a trough filled with water, no doubt for the horses, and begins to wash as much of the spattered blood off her cheeks as she can. That thumb print of blood on her forehead, though, is consciously left there.

She can sense eyes on her, so she turns and rudely snaps,

"What is it you want? Am I so interesting to stare at?"

The Horizon

Eponine's mansion is gone again. In it's place is a garden, formally arranged in rows of flowers - roses, lilies, violets, tangled bushes of thorns brimming with fruit, and strawberry plants and trees so laden with fruit that the branches hang low. Beneath a weeping willow near the centre of her garden, Eponine lies flat on her back, peering through the branches to look at the starry sky above her. Next to her, a strange almost-figure lies heaped: it's old wood and grass cuttings with pebbles for it's eyes and yellow hawksbits for it's hair.
Eponine's by turns ignoring it and petting it. Occasionally, she might be found with her head upon it's breast, sobbing. Everything is wrong and nothing is right. Nothing can fix her mess this time.
Not all the flowers in the world.

The heady scent of the blooms hangs heavy, overbearing almost, in the cold of Eponine's domain. A song, from under that willow tree, drifts out to catch the attention of anyone passing by.

"Rossignolet du bois joli
Mais enseignez-moi donc
Mais enseignez-moi donc
Enseignez-moi de la poison
C’est pour empoisonner
C’est pour empoisonner"

All of which roughly translates to, "Pretty nightingale of the woods, show me then, show me then
show me about the poison. It is to poison, It is to poison..."
Is it alarming that foxglove is growing, sentry like, in rows nearby?

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Abigail's face falls as she realises that she wasn't mistaken, that the wreck in front of her really is Eponine. She moves closer, trying to tread the fine line of showing sympathy but not pity in her expression.

She's actually a little frightened as she looks her over, thinking that maybe the castle's authorities were rounding up and bringing back all of the escapees, no matter what means they have to use. She'd come willingly herself, but under the promise that she wouldn't be hurt or thrown back into jail. Looking at Eponine now, she doubts whether that promise will be kept.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to stare. I just didn't expect to see you here."

And looking so much worse for wear.

"I weren't expecting to be here neither," Eponine says with a weary sigh. She pulls at the tatters of her skirt until a rag comes loose: she dips it in the trough and dabs at her cheeks.

"Especially without nothing. Especially to beg for their mercy." She purses her lips.
"And yet, la. Here we are. Why have you come back, Miss?"

"I came back because a friend promised me I wouldn't get put back in jail if I did." And he'd kept his word, which had simply cemented Abigail's respect for Kylo. "It was a better option than trying to survive on my own in Nott, at least."

She frowns a little as she watches her try to clean herself in the trough. "Come inside, I'll help you clean up." The rooms in Castle Thorne given to the summoned who'd stayed weren't fancy, but they at least offered a little more dignity.

"Do you think that's true for me as well?" Eponine studies Abigail's face, trying not to look or sound as anxious as she feels.
"When I was here last, they put me in the prison in the prison because I was bad, and in Nott... he said he wouldn't tell, but I don't believe him."

She looks around the yard quickly, scanning for a sign of Sasarai.

"Some people have made it clear I am not wanted. Look, even paid me to go." She lifts her rags. Tied to her waist with a bit of old rope, dangling down the side of her leg is a bulging blue coin purse.
"But I ain't got nowhere else to go. Who would let me in their house looking like this?"

"I don't see why not." As long as she stayed out of trouble, that is. She couldn't see what Thorne would gain by locking either of them back up. "I thought I was in prison because I was bad, too, but I don't think it's that simple. Whatever method they were using to judge us was wrong, especially since they want our help. They'll look after us, I'm sure of it."

"I've looked worse than that before, believe me. Come on, you can have a bath and I'll get you some new clothes."

"Just like that? New clothes?" Eponine shakes her head. This place is like a ship rolling in the waves. One minute, she is sinking in despair, and the next, she is riding high with every opportunity within her grasp. She chuckles to herself.

"Do you have a hairbrush too? It has been that long since I have brushed my hair, it is all knots. Nadine was working to get them out, you know? Me, I hadn't brushed my hair since I were a child before here... but after that Julie, you know?" She smiles awkwardly; it's more of a grimace than anything.

"I went off on my own. Me, I don't care if I am beaten and that if I have done wrong. I hate the strap on my arse, and I'll do anything to avoid it, but it is okay, isn't it? It is sensible to be punished so. But to stay and be prissied by someone what is going to kill you anyway? Me, I am not so stupid as that. I would rather nothing than that." Eponine shrugs.

"I thought it would be better alone... but everything is wrong and nothing will make it go right again, and honest to God I don't know what to do."

Abigail nods, knowing Ronan would find another pile of clothes for Eponine to have if she asked him.

"Yeah, I have a hairbrush." She smiles. "It's easier to get the tangles out when it's wet, so I can brush it through while you bathe if you like?" She'd never taken on this sort of caring role before and she felt a little daunted by it, but she desperately wanted Eponine to be her friend, and she knew if their roles were reversed she'd want someone to look after her.

"I tried to go it alone, too." Abigail winces a little as she thinks of the hard weeks barely scraping by in Nott. "But things have started to look up since I came back here."

Eponine's mouth drops open in sheer astonishment. She stares at Abigail without saying anything.
"Why?" She eventually says. It comes off more challenging than she means it to be.
"I mean, I ain't got nowt but the clothes I stand in. I can't give you nothing back for you to brush my hair. But you want to?"

Eponine swallows hard. She knows, at least this time, she doesn't deserve any kindness. Oh, but how lovely it feels... and how guilty she feels at the thought of it.

"I don't mind being alone, you know? It is lonely, but... but it's safe? Almost? No. I'm too stupid to know the right word. It ain't safe. Bad things happen to women like us when we are alone on a street. Women like us become bad... I'm bad."
Eponine grows quiet for a moment, and scuffs her heel in the dust.
"Do you care?" She stares hard at Abigail. It won't work - Eponine won't take Abigail's help if Abigail can't acknowledge the wickedness in Eponine and accept it, rather than immediately try to change it.

That's why Susan's currently bleeding out on a street corner and Eponine is stood still spattered with the girl's blood.

"I'm bad, too." She detests the vulnerability she feels at admitting it, at letting her guard down just a little and allowing the things she'd done in her own world to prick at her in this one. "But that's okay. It means we know how to survive, and that's the most important thing for us to do here."

Sasarai had indeed stopped in his wanderings to watch a bloodied woman clean her face in horse water. Back home he'd seen this sort of thing a bit too often in the poorer districts and cities of Harmonia where fights were many and baths were few.

Distantly, he wonders if he will ever see those places again. Maybe, next time, he can find better ways of helping those people...

He isn't aware that he's staring until she glances up and snaps at him.

"You look terrible," he replies and grins with a kind playfulness.

"May I ask what happened?"

Eponine glances down at her blurry reflection in the water. Yes, she does look terrible. She’s got a broken nose, a freshly broken jaw, which has left her face a mottle of bruising, spent the night in prison and is covered in her ex-best friend’s blood. So yes, she looks terrible.

Sasarai might be joking but Eponine doesn’t find it funny at all. She’s too stressed, too frightened, to regretful for that.
So she scowls back.

“You might ask till you’re blue in the face, Sir, but I ain’t telling you. It should make that lovely hair of yours curl on end if you know what I have been into.”

Even Eponine has sense enough to know not to mention that she tried to murder her best friend. Ex best friend.

“But I need a way in here without being seen, Sir, by the guards and that. I can make it worth your while if you’ll show me.”

"Sneaking you past the guards isn't a trivial matter, you know."

He folds his arms over his chest and his grin wavers.

"If you want my help you'll have to tell me what's going on. From the beginning, please."

“You are serious, Sir?” Eponine’s expression flashes anger. But then she shakes her head.

“Fine. I escaped from their prison here and ran away but I were arrested and sent back. Are you happy now, Sir? I do not want to go in the dungeons again but I know I will if a guard knows I’m here.”

It’s half a truth at least.

"I hope you realize that doesn't tell me much," he sighs.

"I assume you were among the 'unexpected' guests who were deemed criminals upon arrival? So then you escaped and you were arrested again. Why?"

"Why must you know?" Eponine groans.
"Look, Sir. I will give you money. Food. I can - if that's what you want. God knows you are not the first I have silenced that way - but if that's what you want then..." She gestures to her body.
"Is that what you want from me?"

Eponine shakes her head and dampens her rag in the trough again. She wipes it roughly over her face, using it to wipe up and hide her tears - tears of fear, desperation, frustration and regret. Never, ever let them see you cry.

"Or else you may just be on your way, for I ain't saying a word more on it."

"What?"

He is momentarily taken aback by her response and manages a groan.

"I don't want anything from you, miss. I'm not trying bargain with you for my cooperation. I'm trying to determine if you are a threat to this castle and the people in it."

"Well, what do you think, Sir?" Eponine snaps. She marches over to him so that she's right into his personal space. She's not a tall woman, and so skinny that she looks almost skeletal. Her clothes are rags - her begging costume from Nott, for she hadn't time to retrieve her good clothes from their hiding place. But still splashed with blood and dirt, she makes a sight at least.

"Am I terrifying? An unarmed woman what hasn't eaten in days? Do you tremble at the sight of me? Will I be able to kill an entire castle of people when I cannot even kill one girl? What do you think?"

Sasarai arches a brow.

"I dunno what to think. Everyone here has the capacity for magic after all. It's not like I can tell what magic you might have just by looking."

He'd caught the end of what she said though.

"Is that what you did? You tried to kill someone?"

"I don't have no magic." Eponine mutters. Great. Everyone has magic, and Eponine has nothing. Yet again. She is sick of always being bottom of the pecking order.

To his question, Eponine shrugs. "Do you see me with a knife? I ain't killed no one. And I ain't got the magic to do it, neither."

"Well, then you can tell me what happened when you ran off, right?"

He gestures around them.

"Surely whatever it was would pale in comparison to murder."

Eponine rolls her eyes. But the longer she stays in the courtyard, the greater her chance of being seen by a guard or Ambrose and the greater her chance of going to prison is.

"You are not a nice man, you know that?" she snaps as she shakes her head.
"But fine. FINE. If you must know. Before I ran, I were beaten by a dreadful woman called Julie when she stole my bread that I'd worked hard to get extra, you know? Then, when I ran with that Nadine, they brought her too. We had to work in Nott, but me? Me... my fingers are the talent. Each of us to what we are good at, but me, I am like a magpie, no?" Eponine smiles. She's certainly got sticky fingers and an eye for bulging pockets.

"But it is not enough. I am chased away by that Julie, like she thinks I am a stray dog, and a bitch I might be, but not a dog. Anyway, I were by myself and..."

And she stabbed Susan. Repeatedly.

Perhaps it's obvious that attempted murder is her crime.

"Will you report me, Sir?" she asks, anxiously.

Sasarai shakes his head.

"I won't report you. But if I were you I would turn myself in. Could be the wizards of Thorne might find a 'magpie' useful, you know? You'd have warm food, coin and a cozy bead all for doing what you're good at."

Eponine shakes her head. "I got sent to the prison last time. And Sir, even in prison, there is another one - a small room to yourself, no bars, no windows. There is a light that always shines bright, and a rock to sleep on. The door don't open and food is pushed through a little door what slams before you can even catch a glimpse through to see someone. And only scraps, only once a day. Sir, I were going mad in there. I could hear voices, and the monsters - God, it were in my head but it were so bad. They've put me in there twice before, and then in Nott too. I ain't scared of it, but how much do I hate it? And even when they brought me out, I were chained. They made me a servant a day, and chains on my wrists to my waist, and down to my feet so it were shuffle, shuffle. Sir, I can't go back. And for murder? It will be the worse, no? Hanging if they know of it."

Eponine wraps her arms about her. "I don't want to be here, Sir, but I ain't got nowhere else to go. I just need somewhere a bit warm from the winter so I don't freeze to death. It ain't too much to ask, is it?"

"No, it's not too much to ask," he looks up at the distant towers, then back to her.

"Everyone needs shelter. But if you tried to hide and someone found you then your punishment would be much worse than if you turned yourself in. You must realize that."

"What is worse than death, Sir?" Eponine shrugs. "If I stay outside in the winter, without a body to huddle to, I am dead. If I say to the guards I am back because I have murdered Susan, I am dead. Perhaps when they find me, I am dead as well, but perhaps I will have more weeks of freedom like this?"

There's desperation in her voice. "Please, Sir. I don't want to be left alone in the dungeons again."

He lifts a gloved hand, gesturing for silence.

"Sorry. Can't help you."

He walks away, striding towards the castle but as he moves he reaches under his cloak and unhooks a small pouch from his belt. It falls to the ground in his wake.

If Eponine picks it up and opens it she will find some coin inside. It's not a lot, but it's enough to find comfortable lodgings somewhere for a few nights.

Sasarai hopes it will give her enough time to figure out where she needs to be.

“Bastard!” She yells after him. What’s she supposed to do with the money? She can’t go anywhere. Who would take her in, looking as she does now?

“I hope you fall down the stairs and break your neck, you -“ it’s followed by an unintelligible string of name calling in Parisian argot before she bends down to pick up a loose stone to hurl at his head.
“Bastard!” She cries again.

But then, this is it now, isn’t it? Nowhere to go. No one to look out for her.
She makes her way slowly, shuffling, back to the trough and kicks at it hard with her bare foot before slumping down next to it.

She’s done for.

She hides her face in her knees and begins to cry.

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Hollow insides - open

Thorne

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Thorne

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