Roche screamed against her gag, using inkblood to peel off her shoe and hurl it at the door. She huffed silently, waiting to see if Tigris or anyone re-entered the room.

No one did.

Because Roche had to protect the stupidest, careless royal brat to ever exist. She groaned, sagging forward from her painful position tied to the bedpost. Her arms were beginning to ache. She needed to get out of here, and quickly. There was no way Roche was going to let the princess die. Her heart squeezed painfully at the very thought.

She rallied her concentration, which was absolutely scrambled after a night of chasing down Tarak.

Annodtan.

Tigris' sash unknotted easily, falling to the ground with a muted swish of fabric. Her fingers prickled as blood drained back into her fingertips. She ripped the gag out of her mouth and stumbled towards the door on shaky legs. Tigris could be anywhere by now.

Roche's mind raced, trying to plan like the princess would. She'd need Orpheus, which she'd probably have gotten in the time it took Roche to untangle herself. Then she would head to the stables and get on one of the horses Roche had tacked and readied earlier.

Roche prayed she wasn't too late as she raced down the halls of the castle, ignoring the strange looks she garnered from the nobles and servants she passed.

-------

Tigris' horse was gone. Roche cursed, mounting her own. The stableboy hadn't seen the princess leave, so Roche had no idea which direction she'd gone. She charged towards the forest, praying that she could pick up a trail of some kind.

It was no use. Roche wasn't a hunter or even a warrior like Tigris. The mulch and snow all looked the same to her. Every snapped branch and crushed leaf looked like Tigris' horse had crashed through. Roche ran a frantic hand through her hair. Her inkblood was of no use. She didn't have time to scry for Tigris either.

She wasn't a tracker, she couldn't find Tigris.

An idea dawned on her.

She wasn't a tracker.

But she knew someone that might be.

-------

"So... you want me to track a person?" Brom asked, furrowing his brows. Roche nodded desperately.

"Not just any person," she said.

Brom rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. It's the princess, isn't it?"

Roche nodded, and Brom groaned loudly. He sucked at the edge of a glass bottle despondently. "You know she's probably on some hunting trip or something. Nobles love that sort of thing."

"She's going to get herself killed!" Roche insisted, signing emphatically. Brom smirked as she stumbled over the last sign.

"Good, you'll be free of her." he slid his empty bottle over the counter of the vacant bar, "Congratulations!"

Roche leaned closer. "I know you don't like nobles, but Tigris is not like the others. She's kind and good and she's ready to throw her life away from her people. I respect that and I can't, in good conscience, let her life be in vain."

Brom tugged his gaze away from the bar to study Roche's face with uncharacteristic scrutiny. She squirmed under her eye, restless and ready to go.

"You're really loyal to her, aren't you?" Brom asked quietly. Roche nodded, and he frowned, "I never quite understood that kind of thing. My old man did, though. Look where it got him."

He sounded sad, almost. Roche leaned up against the bar.

"I think you understand it too," she said, "Even if you don't want to."

Brom stared at her stonily, and she pleaded, "I know you don't like nobles or Silvians after everything that's happened. I don't blame you. But Tigris is not like her father. She's kind. She's done many good things for her people that her father wouldn't do. She listens to commoners. How many stuck up nobles would pull their heads out of their asses to do that?"

Brom's lips tugged upwards with a smile. "Who knew you had a mouth on you?" he teased. Roche chuckled.

"I suspect you've said worse things to worse people, Brom. You were willing to argue with a princess in the middle of a bar, you aren't exactly the quiet type."

"That I'm not," he agreed with a gaudy smile, his blue eyes glinting. He studied her for a moment, "Most people tire of men like me."

Roche laughed. "Why on earth would they? Do you know how much amusement it brings me when anyone tells Tigris and her stuck up noble friends what a brat she can be? If the situation wasn't so terrible, I would have joined you when you pissed her off."

Brom's grin widened. He swung his legs off his seat. "Good thing we're on the same page, then. Well, I suppose we can brainstorm things to irritate your princess with us as we ride."

Roche's chest bloomed with relief.

-------

Roche's hunch about Brom had paid off. The man was a skilled tracker from all his time on the open roads. Once Roche led him to the edge of the castle forests, he immediately picked up on Tigris' trail, drawing their horses on a long journey. He swigged from a bottle of something that made Roche's liver shrivel up and die with just a whiff, and he took them both through the forest. It seemed like the alcohol kept him from getting cold as they journeyed, the cool air becoming frigid.

"Looks like your princess was headed for the northern mountains," Brom announced, his blonde hair ruffling in the wind. He squinted at the frozen tundra ahead of them, where the trees thinned out into scraggly bushes, "Though, I've never seen anyone take this route before."

"Really?" Roche checked her map, "It seems like a direct way to get north."

"It is," Brom agreed, his lips pressing into a grim line, "But there's a huge lake ahead that's said to be treacherous to cross in the winter. The ice is just too thin, claims at least ten men a winter. Most people just head west first, towards Irulia, and then travel north to the other side of the mountains."

Roche sucked in a painfully icy breath, her nostrils stinging. Was that the test? To see if Tigris could cross a frozen lake?

That sounded like a stupid test. Roche huffed out a breath, watching it plume in front of her. "So I assume you've never been there before?" she asked, her joints stiff from the cold. Brom shook his head with a curious smile.

"How could you tell?"

"There's no taverns in the mountains, Brom."

Brom guffawed loudly. "And you, miss bookworm, haven't been there either?"

"How could you tell?" Roche parroted, a grin already making her frozen cheeks ache. Brom wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"There's no libraries. Or princesses."

It was a terrible joke, but they both laughed anyway. Brom, because he was tipsy. Roche because, if Tigris was to be believed, had an awfully mundane sense of humour.

-------

Brom stopped Roche's horse when they were nearing the mountains. He pointed to the snowy ground in front of them.

"See that?" he asked, sliding off his horse. Roche followed suit, squinting at the ground. Through the glare, she could make out a flattened patch of snow. She stared up at the man questioningly, and he crouched closer to the ground. "Your princess went on foot from here. Good thing, too. It looks like this is where the lake begins."

Roche held a hand over her eyes, trying to shield from some of the glare that the snow produced. "Where's her horse, then?"

"I don't know. I don't see its tracks anywhere." he muttered uneasily. Brom's normally buoyant face was tight with suspicion. He placed a hand on his meagre weapons belt, his muscles tensed. "You still want to follow her?"

Roche swallowed, nodding. Brom sighed.

"Alright," he said, "Best get off your horse, then."

Roche obliged. They edged onto the lake carefully. The ice cracked and groaned, but held their weight. Roche hardly dared to breathe. Brom's hand gently gripped her forearm.

"I'll pull you up if the ice cracks," he assured her, "Take it slow. Slide your steps."

Roche sucked in a breath, reeling in her anxiety. They slowly trudged along the ice, kicking up snow. Roche's eyes struggled against the brightness as she edged towards the growing mountains. After what felt like an eternity, Brom blew out a relieved breath, running his arm across his sweaty forehead.

"I think we're safe," he murmured. Roche nearly fell onto her hands and knees.

"I'm never leaving solid ground again." she grumbled, turning up to stare at the tunnel. There was no sign of Tigris or Orpheus or Tarak anywhere. The air was still, not a sign of anyone or anything. Still, Roche felt a prickling in her veins, her inkblood stirring. Unease made her shift on her feet.

"You're really going in there?" Brom asked, his brows furrowing.

"I have to," Roche pointed out, placing one hand on the carved stone. It hummed with inkblood, "Tigris is in there."

Brom hesitated for a moment before he edged in after her. The tunnel had circles carved out of the top, leaving room for sunlight to stream in. It was darker than it was outside, and Roche's vision dimmed as her eyes struggled to adjust. Her fingertips dipped over bumps and tracks that made her pause.

"What are those?" Brom asked, leaning closer with a curious expression. Roche brushed her fingers against them again, recoiling when she felt a burst of inkblood. She did it again on the next carving, a strange collection of swoops and swirls chiseled into unforgiving rock. Her skin burned with the force of the enchantment.

"Runes," Roche murmured, staring at them. She wished she had the skill to know precisely what they were meant for. "This place is powerful."

"And dangerous," Brom noted, his eyes narrowing. "I met a guy, once, who claimed he had an inkblood carve runes into his sword. Made him a fierce warrior. He could barely lift a tankard on his own but with that sword, he was wrestling with seasoned knights."

Roche chewed her lip. These runes didn't feel malicious. They felt ancient and eternal, kind of like the omphalos had. Like this was a sacred place on earth that they had the fortune of stumbling into.

The white stone ahead of them tilted up into wide, regal steps. Roche felt more runes beneath her feet as she walked, steady and powerful. Brom was more hesitant, but he still followed her, one hand on his weapons belt. He soon was ahead of her, moving faster than Roche could. At the top of the steps, his eyes widened.

"Roche, look at this room." he said, his eyes widening with awe, "It looks newer. Cleaner. There's a bunch of mirrors in here and more of those runes."

"Really?" Roche hurried up the steps after him.

Brom nodded and moved further into the room. "A lot more, and-" the rest of his words dissolved into a shout of surprise. Brom's body was yanked forward into the room, out of sight.

Roche gasped, charging up the steps with her inkblood at the ready. She gaped at the sight before her.

The circular room was etched with many runes, as ancient and unbending as the rest of the mountain. They scrawled across almost every surface, pulsing with energy. The walls pulsed and shifted with the strength of their runes, the symbols melding into a smooth reflective surface, all of which surrounded a huge, round table made of pure stone.

Brom was pinned to the wall across the table, atop one of the mirrors. He squirmed and strained, some invisible force holding him there. He shouted in warning when Roche tried to step in after him. She froze in the threshold.

At her feet, newer runes had been etched into the stone, modifying some of the older runes. The new runes blazed with red light that trailed over to Brom. It was a trap of some kind that he had triggered, a trap designed to hold him several feet above the ground like a fly stuck in a spider's web.

"Run!" Brom shouted.

Roche curled her fists, kneeling in front of the rune. There had to be some way to disable it, some way to free Brom. She rallied her inkblood, holding out her hands.

"Und-"

Roche didn't even get to finish the incantation before inkblood curled around her mouth, dragging her up to her feet. Her scream was muffled as she thrashed, trying to summon an inkblood blade, but a voice stopped her resistance in its tracks.

"Hello, Roche. I've been waiting for you."

The bonds around her lips loosened enough for Roche to gasp.

"Tarak?"

A/N: Every time I write about Brom, it is a struggle not to rewrite every Gwaine scene from Merlin. I can't help it, Gwaine's my favourite character LOL.

In other news, school starts again tomorrow, so updates might slow down depending on how much time I have to write. Lmk what you think of the story so far. Any theories as to what will come next?

As always, happy reading!