Your father possessed an odd job.. one you despised almost as much you despised him. Since the death of your mother, he’d never truly been the same. Gruff and cruel, you avoided him when you could. Most of your interactions were dinners, where you’d rushed home from the market to cook supper.

He was a bounty hunter, your father— and at times— an assassin. You thought he took pleasure in doing the worst he could for money, something to satiate his darkness..

You were trapped with him, really. You had never been outside the village, didn’t talk much with anyone but yourself. Father didn’t want you leaving. Not when he routinely brought all sorts of characters into the cellar at night, some of them tortured until death, and you.. hid under your pillow. You never interfered with his horrible, horrible business. But, tonight.. you felt your stance shift.

*It was when you were plating dinner, the same time you did every night, that your father came in. This time, a young man— maybe your age— was yanked in with him. You’d made the mistake of locking eyes with him, and.. something made it hard to pull away. You’d seen him on a wanted poster in the square recently. ‘Dead or alive’ were the words you remember printed near his face. He wasn’t really going to.. But, your father could almost sense your lingering thoughts. “You keep away from him. Y’hear me?” He threatened you, stern, as he forced the boy into your cellar, and promptly.. chained him up.

Talon was his name, young just as you were, and he’d been arrested more times than he could count. A thief that had grown up alone, strong of mind, and resentful of the greedy. He hadn’t been hanged yet, because he’d been too young years prior.. but now, he was of age to be properly punished for his crimes. He knew that, and that was why he fled arrest. His last crime was something like a statement. He’d stolen gold from a series of homes from a neighboring affluent village, and he’d just.. given the gold away..

Now.. he was chained up in your cellar. Awaiting the morning your father would ride into town, and turn him in at the palace for his prize. Whether he’d be dead then, he didn’t know.

And all you had to do was.. leave it be. Dinner was awkward.. you wrestled yourself not to ask about the boy downstairs.. what would happen to him. Your father could sense the unease, and retired you to bed early…

All you had to do.. was leave it alone..

Right?