It's in the Blood (Blood Curse Plot - FablexValda) by Ramala on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

Featuring Fable and Valda

Location: Fable’s secluded cavern in the depths of Starheim

Fable shuddered. It was cold. It was always cold here. He was in one of the deepest caverns of Starheim that Valda had decreed was Fable’s new place of contemplation and was off limits to all but her, Durzin and a few select visitors upon approval. The sun never found its way in, and the fresh breeze never traveled downward this far, leaving the air stale, cold, and damp. Only the twinkling blue of the glowworms above illuminated the sun-forsaken space. The Jarl was not a prisoner- he could leave at any time, in principle. There was no physical shackles that bound him, or any law above him that ordered him. So why then, could he not keep track of how many days it had been since he’d seen the sun, or walked among his Skuld?

Valda had assured him that this was the right thing. That with her help, he alone could tap into the future and See what Fellfang needed to do in order to put the world back in balance and prevent another disaster like the earthquake and the eruption of the Forsaken Peak. The more she hold him this, and the more that she aided him with her herb potions and other mixtures she claimed to be from the spirit realm, the more sense this made to him. There was a second thing that kept him fettered to the darkness that Valda would not let him forget- the Curse of Arn.

Fable had always been aware of a darkness inside him, a streak of violence that would come out in times of stress when his blocked out memories would flash in and out of nothing. Upon coming back to Fellfang, and having some of his memory return, he learned of Fellfang’s name for his “affliction”: The Curse of Arn, a poison that has been born in the blood of his family for generations. It was an inborn instability that plagued the Jarls of Fellfang ever since Jarl Arn, the mad king from lifetimes ago. Upon the cursed individual reaching adulthood would come paranoia, cruelty, a taste for blood, and eventual madness. It was what he knew had happened to his father, Ode, and to his brother, Story. The curse had corrupted them both. Ever since coming to understand it, Fable feared that it would overtake him as well. He had felt like he had smothered it down deep inside his subconscious well until the upheaval of Fellfang’s first territory and the death of his sister. Ever those events had shaken him to his core- he’d felt that poison begin to return. He had feared it. He was having nightmares about it, and what his role in Fellfang’s future might be. It was one of the largest reasons he had believed Valda so deeply when she came to him, warning him about the darkness awaiting Fellfang if nothing was to change.

Here… in the darkness, Fable had only come to fear this potential reality even more. So he stayed.

Fable had no idea how many days he had been sequestered in the lonely silence with no one but Valda to whisper in his ear. He believed her mixtures helped him tap into the spirit world and into the fabric of time itself, but it kept him away from the physical world in which he belonged. He was in a constant haze. His body barely felt like his own anymore. What was real and what were his visions were not as clear as they had once been, and this worried him… but it was what he needed to do… right?

The deafening silence was broken by the soft scrape of small, almost weightless paws. The dark Jarl didn’t even need to look- he knew who it was.

“I’ve been away from the Skuld for too long, Valda. It feels wrong.”

The black fox clicked her tongue with a maternal ‘tsk tsk tsk’ as she rounded the corner of the passageway, almost seeming to slither towards him, enveloping him instantly in the soft curl of her long tail as she wrapped around him like a cat.

“My dearest Jarl. I know how hard this has been for you, but you must remember why we’re doing all this, hm?” she purred.

“I can never forget why,”he breathed, his eyes dark and weary. “But all this is coming at the cost of everything else I must do as Jarl. The pack is my family, they give me strength, and I need to be a pillar of strength for them in return. I don’t know how long it’s even been since I’ve seen their faces, even spoken with Polaris. I’m so wrapped up in the past and future, I don’t know how they are doing, or what the present is like for them. Can that be right?”

She wasn’t worried by his doubts. The fox had Fable where she wanted him: physically weak, sleep-deprived, and compromised with weeks-worth of her… concoctions in his system.

“You don’t need to worry about the Skuld,” the ember-eyed vixen reassured him. “That’s what Durzin and I are here for. You have matters of the future to deal with that I can only help you with, but you alone must discern. Fellfang is in good paws in your absence. In the long run- this is best. This. Is. Best.”

She continued speaking, flooding his already overloaded senses with her words, hitting him where it hurts, “You and I both know there’s another reason you must keep your distance from the Skuld. Your own dreams and visions have told you why- Arn’s Curse is flowing in your veins. You feel it growing stronger by the moment, don’t you?”

He let out a shuddering breath. He tried his best not to think about it, his brows furrowed and his eyes fell away from hers.

“I know you do,” she prodded. “I’m a spirit, I can feel imbalance pouring from you. You love your Skuld, but you are dangerous. The territory teeters on the edge of terrible misfortune due to a dangerous imbalance in the world, an imbalance that may or may not be directly related to you- so the longer you remain removed from them while the danger ahead is discerned, the safer they are. You understand that, right?”

“Right,”he echoed hollowly. “Dangerous.”

The level of lucidity he had achieved moments before seemed to then drain away from his eyes. His moment of autonomy was over- waves of Valda’s influence had crashed over his head, sending him reeling and tumbling back into the black surf of his cloudy mind.

“Safer. For them,” he parroted, his throat tight. “It is best.”

“That’s right,” Valda smiled, pleased by this result. “Everything will be alright if we stick to the plan. Your plan.”

“My plan,” he mouthed, his eyes directed at the wall, seeing something miles away.

The black fox rose on her back legs planted a soft kiss on his cheek, like a mother comforting a sick child. She wordlessly turned and padded from the cavern, though she would be back in a moment. It was about time for his next dose.