**Warning: There is mention in this chapter of sexual assault and attempted murder by a villainous, fictional character. Though attempts have been made to write with maturity and tact regarding the subject matter while still permitting dramatic flow to the story line, everyone has different tolerances. Please continue reading at your own discretion.**

*Eliza’s POV*

“I guess I should back up a little. One night, I was frustrated with my lack of progress and decided to be really blatant. I just sat right down at the entrance to the alley where the first body had been found, with my tits practically hanging out like shiny-ass melons for sale, right? I had also brought a book to fake like I was reading.” I took a slow breath.

“After a while, the Elder's son, Artan, came walking up. He was a young, smaller, guy, not out of Training yet, so I was wondering what he was doing awake at that hour, right? But I stand up, say hello, he asks me what I'm reading, and we make small talk. The whole time, I'm kind of impatient for him to fuck off, so I can get back to my trap for the boogeyman.” My mind fogged a little, trying to protest revisiting the memory, but I shook it off.

I made an effort to keep my voice steady. “I saw Artan eye my chest but, in that outfit, at his age, it might have been more bizarre if he hadn't. But then he said, I can't remember exactly, something like, ‘have you ever been fucked until you were screaming and bloody?’”

I got goosebumps just remembering the way that filth had said it. His voice had been so casual. The same as how he had inquired about what I was reading. It had made my reaction time too slow. How I had underestimated him!

“I remember that was when I knew I had the right guy, the murderer, right in front of me. He was just a teenager! My main concern was how to restrain him without accidentally killing him, at first. But then he laughed, this really weird, high laugh, and tried to knock me out against the wall with this incredible blow to my fucking face!” I scowled, angry at the recollection.

“I was stunned instantly, I hadn't been expecting it. I mean, the force might have fucking killed a teenage Fae, Andy. I was dazed, and he dragged me back into the alley. I think he thought I was either unconscious or possibly dead already.

“He...” Words failed me. They just wouldn’t come. I just felt incredible anger, and the words wouldn’t come. I felt my little nubbins pop through my gums and closed my eyes for a moment.

"You don't have to say anything, Eliza. Only what you want to tell. I'm here." I felt Andy very, very gently touch a few fingers to one of my hands.

Andy had seen my wounds. I decided a blow-by-blow description was unnecessary. I focused briefly, in my mind, on how I knew the story ended for Artan, before continuing.

“I, I was out of it. But then, when he did... that, I had this flash of clarity. I remembered my Grampy. He had ripped out his own guts to finish off the orcs, to avenge the woman he loved, as he blistered and went blind. I remembered him smiling at me as his fucking very flesh roasted, telling me he was proud, that I was a warrior, not to lose myself.

“And I thought, 'It doesn't matter what this monster has done, I am still that warrior, and I’m not finished yet, I'm going to end you, now, forever, so that no one else is touched by you ever again.'”

I took a deep breath as I remembered that moment. Words were all I could share with Andy, and honestly, I was glad. I would never want him to go through anything like that.

“So, I fought Artan, and we fought to the death. I’ve killed a lot of people, but he was the most difficult adversary I’ve ever faced, and I had no armor. We were essentially equals in strength, it was terrifying. I had more experience, but he was armed. I won’t go into details; he was vicious. Sick. Eventually, I got his weapon, a dagger, but it cost me. He snapped my wing, and when he was busy chortling and reveling in thinking he had the upper hand, I stabbed him in the fucking liver.”

That moment still stuck out in absolute clarity for me in my memory. It had begun to rain, and we were covered in grime from wrestling. Artan’s mouth and little tusks were bloody from biting me, and he was howling with laughter. I was bellowing with rage at the thought that I might lose, that he might best me, and he might go on to kill still more others. In one, key moment, he had been distracted, by a rat or something, who cared, as he cackled. It had been just enough for him to loosen his grip on my wrist, and I had slipped the dagger up under his ribs, slashing it to and fro. The tables had turned permanently in an instant and he had stopped laughing.

“Artan was killed by his own foolishness, his inexperience. Surely he realized I was a hybrid, like him, and I wasn't howling in pain. That he was taking delight in my suffering cost him his life. He bled out in about eight minutes.” I couldn’t help but feel a small amount of pleasure at knowing that, at the very least, the boogeyman was dead.

Andy was silent for a long time. Eventually, he spoke softly. "What happened?"

Andy was going to be sorely disappointed with the outcome. “I alerted the Night Watch, and was subsequently arrested for the murder of the Elder's son.”

"What!?" Andy sat up straighter, looking totally shocked. How else did he think I was exiled?

“For fuck’s sake, think about it, Andy. Well, I guess you wouldn't know this. Merry Willows’ Elder is, literally, on the elder, as in, older, side of things, and a full-blooded Fae. His wife is much younger, and also a full-blooded Fae. I was raving about being attacked by a hybrid, and the dead body was clearly Artan. The only residents in Merry Willows of hybrid descent, that I know of, were my family. I can't imagine my Grampy being unfaithful. On the other hand, Henry was exiled quietly, right around the time Artan was born. I know the Elder's wife had a reputation for taking advantage of young boys who don't know any better. Are you following me?”

Andy’s mouth hung open. "Shit."

“No kidding. So, that is what happened. I was exiled because I killed my psychotic, rapist, serially murdering, illegitimate, hybrid cousin, that I didn’t even know I was related to, because I was trying to protect Merry Willows. One of his victims even included our mutual cousin, Helga. Sick fuck."

Andy just shook his head. "But why? I don't understand why-"

"-Acknowledging that I slayed the killer would be acknowledging that the Elder lacked the wisdom to recognize a killer in his own home, that he had raised one. It would also give credence to my words that I fought a fellow hybrid, meaning that his wife had been unfaithful, and with an underage boy, at the time, my Uncle Henry.

“Everyone heard me say I had fought a hybrid, though I hadn't thought through the implications of what I was saying, I was distraught. Besides the obvious, if Artan had been a normal teenage Fae, he would almost certainly not have been able to harm me, but that was willfully ignored. I had a lot of time in jail to try and figure out why I was there. The fact that the murders stopped was ignored."

"But... why not at least treat your wounds?" Andy was clearly angry and trying to stay calm.

"Tradition."

"So..." Andy’s neck and chest were starting to turn red, though he was externally still composed.

"Yep. I'm assuming that the Elder ordered everything, to cover up his wife's indiscretion, his son's true parentage, to quiet my cousin Helga and the injured Night Watchman from talking, to save face, not wanting it revealed that he'd raised a murderer. Thusly, my mother, Tarja, because of her place on the Council, was the one who saw everything through, and had me exiled."

Notes

Note: Artan has multiple roots. As a Germanic name, its meaning is ‘Thor,’ ‘the eagle,’ ‘father,’ or ‘little bear.’ The Persian meaning of the name is ‘virtuous’ or ‘doer of good deeds.’

double update for Kellyrages, MonochromeSouL, XPockyCookieX, FallenAngel26, and Scripturient. y'all are boss!