Chapter 12: Chapter 4, Part 3

From Indy's Perspective: A Norse-Inspired fantasy adventureWords: 5025

“Aren’t you all forgetting something?” Eoin asked. Everyone turned to him. “We,” he said, gesturing to everyone except me, “are only in this cursed, abysmal region to conduct a mission. Not to indulge your pointless curiosity. May I humbly suggest, as expedition leader, that we instead devote our energy to finding our way back down and out of this thing?” The sarcasm rolled off him in waves, doing its best to mask his obvious impatient anger.

“Maybe there’s an escape mechanism for the crew above here?” I piped up. His head snapped towards me, lips pulled back and practically snarling.

“I thought you made it quite clear,” he hissed, “that you and I were not communicating with each other.” I sat down on the steps again, waiting for him to turn back to the others before speaking again.

“Actually Eoin,” I smiled, “I just wanted to make it clear that I really don’t like you, that’s all. But if you’re feeling a little bit too anxious to keep climbing, I can’t say I blame you. Not everyone’s cut out for it, are they?” I cocked my head slightly as I finished speaking, plastering the most innocent-looking expression I could across my face. Honestly, I’m not sure it worked but that was fine with me as long as I seemed annoying.

Credit to him, he marshalled his features well, before stalking over to the stairs to loom over me as much as possible. I’m already a short person, and I was sitting down. I’m pretty used to being loomed over, so I kept my face and body exactly as they were. His face was fixed into a sneer as he started talking. “I’m sure you think you’re awfully clever, and brave, and adventurous-”

“And funny,” I chimed in.

“Of course. Putting aside your suitably childish attempts to goad or embarrass me, I make the decisions I do because I have duties and responsibilities the likes of which a little girl like you could barely imagine, much less undertake.” I frowned reflexively when he said ‘little girl’, but with my features it probably looked more like a pout. His sneer turned smug as he saw my expression change, the mismatch between our attempts to taunt each other obvious. “You have no idea what I can imagine,” I spat.

“I find I no longer care for whatever it is you have to say, child, ‘fascinating’ as I’m sure it is.” He straightened back up to his full height, smoothing down his robes as he did. “It appears, Indy, that your arrogance is matched only by your insignificance. Now be a good girl, for what I assume would be the first time in your life, and sit there quietly while the adults are talking.”

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I'll be honest. I was completely fucking furious, but he somewhat had me pinned in with that one. Arguing back would just look like childish immaturity, and silence meant he’d won. He turned his back on me, and I did my best to split the difference. I stood, spat a quick “fuck you,” and stomped over to a corner, leaning and trying to look like I was detached from the whole thing. “Charming,” he said, not even glancing my way.

“Great,” I thought, “now I just look like a huffy teenager.” It was a thought that came a bit late though, so I just tried to own it instead, fixing the darkest scowl I could on my face and glaring daggers into the back of his head. I pictured swinging the metal barrel of the PDS into it, and how satisfying it would be. I’m not stupid enough to actually do it, but it was a pleasing and therapeutic thought, and kept me calm as I stood there. I'm not entirely sure what that says about me as a person.

“Was that entirely necessary, Eoin?” asked Gialli, softly.

“Necessary?” he said. “That rather depends on what you’re talking about. If you mean us being here at all, climbing some stupid piece of old, useless Gnomish vanity, then no. In fact, I daresay it’s completely unnecessary. If, however, you mean that particular disciplinary display, then I would argue it was entirely necessary – I cannot allow the rot of insubordination to set in any further than it already has into this merry little band of ours.”

“Insubordination?” Gialli started. “Eoin, she’s not-”

“That’s High Emissary Eoin to all of you, actually. I will deign to answer simply to Emissary Eoin, however. Or ‘Sir’, if you must.” I’d taken Gialli for the most formal (or uptight) of the non-Eoin people, but the look of disgust that briefly crossed his face at that was honestly nothing short of visceral, before he smothered it. “Well, Sir, I was merely going to say that it could hardly be ‘insubordination’ if she isn’t actually a member of this band, as you called it.”

“What a fine point you raise, Mr Gætir. But I regret to inform you that your information is somewhat out of date.” He turned to me, smiling in a way that didn’t reach his eyes. “It would seem we have a new recruit for this mission of ours.”