Chapter Text
No matter how thick the soles of his boots were, if he walked long enough, Jason Todd could always feel the ground beneath him dig into his feet; feel the texture of the dirt and stone path he walked along.
And no matter how long he had spent travelling with Roy Harper, his random whines and complaints never stopped grating at his nerves.
“I’m just saying, why not build settlements closer together? Less travel, more trade. Less feeling like my feet are about to fall off!” Roy cried out, waving his hands and bow in the air to proclaim his point before hunching over with a groan.
“Feet do not fall off from minor strolls, Roy.” Koriand’r quipped back smoothly, adjusting the plum leather under her battered sterling armour, “Perhaps spending less time stood in one place with your bow and training yourself in more diverse combat would help strengthen your muscles.”
“Minor stroll?!” Roy clutched at his bow with a gasp, almost hugging the intricate red weapon to his chest like a scolded child, “My bow has nothing to do with this!”.
The man was fiercely possessive over his bow. He’d never tell the story of how he got it, always diverting with sarcastic tales of fighting ogres, stealing it from under a dragons nose. Regardless of how he got it, he cherished it dearly. Fair enough too, despite the poverty Roy seemed to stem from, it was quite the lavish weapon. The wood was bleached a dark, crimson red, with small black lines twirling around and around the main bow, dancing up to the top, met with a fine line of black string that next seemed to snap.
“Enough!” The group ground to halt as Jason cut his hand through the air, shoulders sagging as he took a deep breath, jerking his head forward. “Look.”
Beyond the twisted yet rounded shapes of lush leaves, and the intricate bark of trees, stone blocked the horizon from view, protruding up with moss patching up the crumbled gaps. Ragged tapestries of red and faded golds swayed gently in a breeze reserved for the heights.
“About damn time.” Roy grumbled, trekking forward again, his maroon boots yellowed with the dust he was dragging up with weary feet.
“Jason, how large is this settlement?” Asked Koriand’r, taking up a trot alongside her companions once again.
The tiefling pulled a crisp and yellowed map from his pocket, unfurling it and stroking pale grey fingers along the page, resting on the settlement ahead of them.
“A decent sized one. Has a nobles district, its own adventurers guild too by the looks of it.” Jason mused over it in muted admiration for a few more seconds before pocketing the map once again, picking up his pace.
Roy stretched out his arms in a yawn, freckled fingers tickling the air as he pulled at each muscle. “Cool,” he settled, “but is it big enough that the guild is gonna have any decent jobs that aren’t already taken?”
In large settlements, nestled between the forests and oceans, travellers and parties flocked to the designated guilds within to take up most of the quests. The gold and reputation were handsome in such places, leaving little for smaller groups to latch onto while the more established groups rushed in and took priority.
“Well there's a tavern near the entrance of the Hold we can check with first, might be some under the table work there.”
“Regardless of how big it is, I will not allow another group to take a job out from under our face again.” She swung her hands to her hips, hard orange muscle tensing as she glared with determination at the gates.
“It’s nose, Kori, but yeah. We’ll get a job and some coin, enough for Roy to waste on another explosive alchemy project again.”
The redhead furrowed his brow and huffed in response, tousling his ginger locks, but stayed silent.
It was meant to be a playful prod, but hadn’t landed quite as well as he had hoped.
Roy was nervous. Jason could see it as the Halfling fiddled with his bow, tightened his belts, fiddled with his potions and then itched his pointed ears gingerly. Roy loved the atmosphere of smaller town taverns, how easy it was to weave yourself into the local crowds. There was no awkward atmosphere or stares, everyone jumped to call everyone a friend. But this was no small town. People here judged with their eyes.
The scent of hay and smoke met them at the entrance, with a few people standing in the empty road inside the walls, segregated couples of dwarves and humans, eyeing the new visitors. Ahead lay a long walk through a quiet market, thatched houses and several storied buildings, connected by washing lines and shredded bunting.
A few vendors called out to the trio as they walked through, reaching out with their trinkets, their treasures and oddities. Glass gems with oceans of shimmer within, blue chickens with three eyes, a golden rope beaming like a solar flare. Others stood hunched over their wares, scanning the trio with eyes of coal, growling and dismissive.
Roy pulled his hat down further as Kori stood tall behind him, staring down the crowds as they made their way through. The crowd’s faces whipped down to their feet when they met her deep green eyes and whispered among themselves, scarcely daring to risk a glance at the tall, bulky woman, wondering at the scorn in her eye and the way the sun lighted the deep apricot colour of her skin.
“This way.” Jason grunted, turning swiftly down a side alley, the rest of the group sharp on his heels.
The chatter of the market gradually dissipated behind them as they strode on through the narrow gap between the buildings, the noise soon replaced by a rowdy scuffle.
“-on’t stand for this! I’m a- I’m a paying cu-customer ‘n, y’know what? Screw this piss of a bar!” The words were slurred and threaded with hiccups.
Jason put one foot out of the shadows of the alley and jumped back suddenly, hand ghosting over the dagger on his belt.
The smell hit before the sight of him, a foul, damp stench of sweat and warm ale. The drunk pushed past into the alley behind them, bumping Jason in the process, muttering curses under his breath and tripping over his own feet several times before going out of view.
“Well.” Jason turned slowly, bringing his hand up to adjust his hood. “Looks like we found the tavern.”
Roy snorted behind him.
The Arrogant Mare was painted in a sharp, crimson red on a rusted sign that should’ve fallen off years ago, the liveliest looking part of the tavern. As taverns go, it wasn’t the shabbiest. It stood two floors tall, the chalky cobblestone not too worn but not too new, with some white, threadbare curtains billowing lazily from the windows. A sober murmur could be heard from inside, the faint clank of tankards and a voice of honey and silk beckoning them in from the dusty breeze of the street.
The inside didn’t hold much more allure past the creak of the almost splintering door. A few tables and benches were scattered around, with candles of varying sizes the only thing to decorate them, besides the dents and scratches that seemed littered across most of the furniture. Other than a few benches and some aged tapestries, nothing else in the tavern held one’s interest for more than a few seconds besides the people.
Only a handful of patrons were present this early in the afternoon, sipping from their tankards idly. The only thing that seemed to be intoxicating them was the woman by the fire.
The voice flowed from her in high notes and chirps, her fingers streaming across a delicately carved lute, together humbly weaving a perfect harmony that held the tavern’s attention completely. Roy seemed particularly transfixed, eyes following the soft, glossy, sun-bleached curls framing a cold, blue gaze and a sun-kissed face.
Koriand’r sighed at her slack-jawed counterpart and elbowed past him, making the first move to the bar. Jason snapped in step behind her, leaving Roy to fumble with his embarrassment.
“I was staring politely.” The redhead grumbled.
The man behind the bar, another blonde, stood polishing tankards and puffing leisurely at a pipe. Not at all bothering to look up at his three newest customers.
“Ahem!” Jason half-covered his mouth, hardly bothering to hide the obvious attitude, only to be met with one himself.
“You got a cough or something, mate?” The voice was gruff, matching the man's stubbled jaw, furrowed brow and tousled dirt blond hair.
“No, actually. Have you heard of any potential work around the Hold?”
“Slow yourself there, you want to sit in here and pester me about what I might’ve bothered listening to, you need to buy a drink first.”
Jason pinched the bridge of his nose and held a sigh, entirely sick of bartenders and spontaneous bar policies.
“Look, goldilocks, we’re not here to get wasted, we just w-”
“And I’m not here to waste my working hours telling you how to get easy gold I won’t see. Drink or see yourself to the door.”
Despite his gruff exterior, the man's eyes held a steeled look. Jason held that stare for a moment, fingers itching towards his dagger again, but dragged themselves to his pouch instead. No point getting barred from the Hold after they’d trekked so long to get there.
“Three ales. Please.” Jason didn’t avert his eyes as he chucked a few gold and silver coins onto the counter, his voice a clear picture of simmering restraint.
“Cheers.” A sarcastic smile weaved across the bartenders face. He too kept Jason's stare, his gaze equally full of disdain but with a hint of mischievousness.
His hands quickly hid under the table, reappearing as three dented iron tankers hit the bar with a muted thunk, a small, yellow froth rolling down the sides.
Jason’s gaze flicked down unconsciously in confusion.
‘How did he pour those so quickly?’
“Thank you, kind sir.” Koriand’r snatched one of the tankards and gulped it down in one breath. “Now, please share with us your knowledge on local talk.”
Kori’s ability to down an entire tankard in one quick gulp like it was nothing usually left most needing a moment to compose themselves, but the barman only gave a quick quirk of the eyebrow before addressing the Orc woman.
“Ask her.” He flapped his polishing rag in her direction before returning his lazy gaze back to the trio.
Jason whirled around quickly.
“Nearly six gold for information you don’t even have?!” The gal of the man had Jason quickly seething, his fingers itching once more. Yet again he found himself loathing bartenders.
“I have information. I informed you about that lady o’er yonder. Unfortunately, us tavern owners don’t get to stray too far from our lovely little hellholes to have the privilege of imparting some of the local rumours on wondering circus acts like yourselves, but that bard gets to roam the streets freely, something she makes quite the habit of. Now piss off over there and stop polluting my bar with your bloody whining.” The man was already focused back on polishing his tankards and puffing at his pipe before Jason could fume over him.
“C’mon, let's go see what the scoop is Jaybird.” Roy’s exaggerated smile barely muted the furious shake of Jason’s hand as he led him across the tavern back towards the source of constant, sweet euphony.
The woman was in the same place by the fire, strumming at the lute seemingly absently, but if Jason stared long enough, it was obvious there was strict method behind the practised plucks and pulls as long slender fingers moved to and fro across the strings. He found his own fingers unfurl carefully from a strained fist.
If she noticed them standing waiting, she made great effort to hide it. Her gaze rolled across the room like silk curtains streaming over furniture next to an open window, quiet yet graceful, unfurling each word of song like a prayer.
When the song was over, and she brushed her golden hair back from her shoulders, the woman graced them with her attention, causing Roy to visibly stiffen.
“Can I help you with something?”
Even when not in song, her voice held a lulling chirp to it.
“Yeah, the wise guy of the bar said you probably have some rumours for us, if you don’t mind sharing.” Jason had hoped the attitude that had gotten him at odds with the tavern owner had dissipated, but judging by the stance the women before them was now taking, he had doubts.
“Rumours?” Her sigh had its own small melody too. “Yeah, sure. There’s been a local bird problem in the noble district, they’ve been snatching a few of their good linen sheets of the lines. I’m sure some lord will drop some coins if you can find the nests.”
Her voice ended on a small hint of disdain as she turned to strap her lute onto her back, an obvious dismissal, but Jason kept his feet still.
“That’s all? A bird problem? That’s really all you’ve got?”
“Yes.” The full stop was almost audible as she turned, “That’s all I’ve got.”
The bard strutted out the tavern with grace and conviction and slammed the door shut behind her, a small cloud of dust settling on the floor. Jason heard the tavern owner sigh and almost smiled.
“Well…” Roy started with a gulp, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Getting paid to catch dinner! Could be worse, right? Better birds than some ghouls or vampires snatching it up.”
Jason might’ve been newly acquainted with Koriand’r, but Roy’s known him for years, and known him well. The foul mood permeating off of him wouldn’t go unnoticed. ‘Bless him for trying’, Jason thought to himself.
The pitiful attempt at humour did work at easing the rogue, the tenseness leaving his shoulder, but Jason was far from calm. He wasn’t angry, but determined.
He turned sharply and made for the door, the other two startling and pacing to catch up.
“Yo, Jaybird, what's the rush? Didn’t realise you held noble linen in such regard.”
“We’re not going to find the fucking linen, Roy.” Jason’s gaze flicked left and right, scanning the streets intently before darting to left and weaving the crowds.
“Jason- Wait!” Kori had an easier time manoeuvring after the nimble rogue, her considerable stature giving her the ability to track him through the crowd that parted for her in shock.
Roy on the other hand struggled. Too conscious of the people around him and always half a step away from bumping into someone, he could hardly focus on Jason’s quickly disappearing black jacket. After finally squashing some poor foot, he latched himself onto Kori’s leather and kept himself in the clear wake behind her.
The Orc woman barely noticed, concentrating on stalking after he friend, missing the look of awe from the redhead trailing behind her.
When they’d finally caught up with the rogue, he wasn’t alone.
“I told you, that’s all I have! Go chase your pigeons.”
“I know a liar when I see one, lady.”
The bard woman, for all her grace, seemed to know how to wield fierceness just as well.
“This lady has a name, jackass.” None of them even noticed the lute being unbuckled from her back until the neck of her lute was on the curve of Jason’s throat. “If you want something bigger to boast about, go to the guild.”
There was a hard glint in her eyes, something that didn’t match up to her soft exterior. The blue of her stare almost seemed to come in waves, Jason didn’t realise he was struggling to avert his gaze until a flash of red came to stand by him.
“Look, miss…” Roy coming to his aid again, twice in one day. He was beginning to feel like a silly damsel in distress.
“Dinah. Dinah Lance.” She seemed to soften guiltily at Roy's surrendering hands.
“Miss Lance, we don’t mean to cause you trouble here. We would love to go to the guild for a quest and believe me, I would love that shiny gold to fill my empty little alchemy bottles, but you see how small our little group of three is?” He gestured behind himself, not glancing back to catch Jason’s offended brow. “We’d be completed overlooked in that hall, they wouldn’t pay lil ol’ me a second glance when they see big armoured Paladin Mc’Gee stroll up behind me.”
“So go get some armour. Not my problem.” As much as Roy had honed his smooth-talking skills, it clearly wasn’t coming off too well on Dinah as she turned to saunter off again.
“But the woods probably are, right?” Jason quirked an eyebrow at his companion, ‘Woods?’.
Dinah stilled completely, spine tensing. Roy had struck a nerve, somehow.
The rogue scoured his brain quickly, thinking back to the woods they walked through before they entered the Hold. It seemed lush, teeming with greenery, birds chirps flittering down from the tree-tops. He was sure he had spotted a deer as well, legging off deeper into the bushes somewhere. Nothing stuck out though, and a quick glance at Kori showed she was following Roy as well as Jason was. Yet, they said nothing, trusting the archer with the path he was laying out before them all.
“Lovely woods you have here, by the way. Lots of great wildlife to keep the hunters going, diverse flora everywhere, enough to keep the medicinal wards topped up. All those healthy trees too, lumber business must be booming.” Roy lifted his hat and tousled his red hair, glinting like a fiery opal. “But those woods were empty.”
She had turned now, Dinah. Staring coldly at Roy, a danger to her stare. Jason was wary of her look, recognising something personal in it. The woods meant something else to her.
“I thought it was weird when there was not a single person near the Hold entrance beside the two guards, like there was an invisible line near the entrance no one was allowed cross. Even saw a few deer running near the wall, they must have been pretty undisturbed recently to be confident enough to get so close to civilization. No fallen trees, no sign of foraging, no little girls picking flowers, nada.” He was closing up now, a satisfied smile tugging softly at his cheeks, “What’s going on with those woods, Miss Lance?”
Dinah was as still as a ship on a dead summers day, the breeze only strong enough to disturb her hair lightly, lifting strands flying to the sky. There was a silence around them, and none of the trio wanted to disturb it, not knowing what they would invoke.
“Who are you three?” Jason could almost swear he heard her voice before she opened her mouth.
“The Outlaws. A motley trio that wants to do something for the world.” Roy grinned at her now, obviously giddy at having chipped away at the bard’s resolve, and seemingly immune to the atmosphere she’d conjured.
“Pray tell what that something is.”
“It’s something, hopefully good. Maybe help some old lady get her cat from the tree, find some poor mother her missing son, topple an oppressive monarchy- We’ll figure it out on the way.” Roy kept her eye, conveying something more than his word’s, a genuine emotion, something humble. “Someone helped me out when I was little, gaining nothing by it when they’d be more than justified to leave me in the gutter. I owe the universe some good karma, gotta make a dent in that debt somehow.”
Once again she was still, the tint of danger still lurking, faintly.
When she finally moved, it was forward, shifting purposefully towards Roy. Kori tensed, and Jason was finding himself sick of his itchy fingers never being satisfied.
He’d stay unsatisfied, although more than a little perturbed when she shouldered past all three of them.
“You’re a complete pain in the ass.”
It wasn’t the ‘Fuck off’ any of them had clearly anticipated, but enough for Roy to practically skip after her with a cheshire grin and singing some sweet thanks to the woman.
Jason kept his face straight as he walked beside Kori, busying himself with his own head.
‘What are we doing?’ The rogue thought with intensity.
It was a complete chance that Jason had ever stumbled upon Roy, face slumped over in wet mud, bruised and barely able to pull himself up. Then it was complete luck Kori found them both a few years later, one more half-witted retort away from being physically thrown from the only inn for miles. Then, no one left. They’d all just drifted around together, dancing around certain topics, doing whatever job they could to keep their pockets a little bit heavier and their stomachs a day from starving.
They weren’t given the luxury of picking and choosing what jobs they took to keep them afloat, it was either do or starve. Don’t think too hard about why this guy needs empty syringes, don’t strain to look behind half-closed doors, take the money, remember your ‘Please’ and ‘Thank yous’ and survive until tomorrow.
Until last month. The job was big, they hardly had a reputation but they could certainly convince anyone that they know how to get a job done quickly and quietly, and they did. They didn’t pry into what the boxes were, if they heard a bump from inside, they’d place them on the dock with a bit more care then go back for the next lot, lanterns guiding them through the torrential night, narrowly avoiding the wrath of the sea licking up at the edge of the stones.
When the price was that high, they should’ve known. When it was a noble hiring them next to a gang boss from the lower ends, they should’ve sensed it. When it was at the docks well past midnight, on the stormiest night of the month and no one from the docking ship would speak, they should’ve taken a peek.
But they didn’t. They kept their heads down, only looking up when the noble dropped the fat, clinking pouch into their hands. The man had laughed with his partner, muttering about riches, exotics, ‘Children.’.
“Jason?” He flinched.
Kori had bent down to face him, her boundless red curls curtaining him from the world.
“Is everything ok, Jason?” She always mothered them a bit.
“Yeah, Kori, fine.” He hadn’t meant for there to be such brute behind it, but Kori smiled softly regardless, straightening herself back to nearly seven feet tall. Something both men were always in awe of (Roy most of all).
The group had walked themselves back to The Arrogant Mare. Dinah walked straight in, not bothering to give an explanation.
“Roy,” Kori broached, “Were you really paying such attention to the woods? Why had you not mentioned your observations to us?”
“Well… I was assuming we’d find out at one point or another. No point spoiling a potential surprise!” The goofy grin took its usual place on his face before he bounced off after Dinah, leaving the two Outlaws with a sigh.
The tavern was empty this time, patrons likely leaving to get the last of the chores done before returning at dark. The owner still stood vigil at the bar, polishing glasses, not giving a single glance to acknowledge their arrival.
“Jug of wine, John.” Dinah called with a wave, walking to the centre of the tavern. Jason glared at John.
“Why are we here again? Are you going to give us the job in song form?” Kori asked, seriously.
“No.” The bard raised an eyebrow, turning to give the Orc a curious look, before turning and walking towards a table at the back of the room, giving them an expecting glance as she sat and reached for the pitcher of wine at the centre of the table.
‘When had he poured those?’
The Outlaws gathered on the benches and each grabbed another tankard, although they made no move to drink it, instead they now sat staring at Dinah, expectantly.
“Did you hear a bell toll from the woods?” The strange lull had returned to her voice again, and tavern owner John glanced silently at the table.
“Like a church bell? No. Do you have a haunted church or something in the woods?” Jason was incredulous about where this was headed and the random route the conversation had already taken.
Dinah must’ve sensed the tone he was taking with her and gave him a scolding look, then sighed wearily. She took a few moments of silence to stare at her wine, then gulped it in a fashion that might even rival Kori.
“The Belled Forest replaced The Sprung Woods in name because of the bell toll people started hearing over the last year. It started with the local brothel women, standing at the woods edge after sunset, trying to take the weary hunters back to their beds. They came back to the brothel hours in the early hours of the morning, with no men by their arms, talking of a bell toll. The next day two of the hunters and one of the women went missing.
“The guards sent out a small search party the next day, but came back unenthused and empty-handed. Except for the one that heard the bell toll, then he went missing the day after.” She poured another tankard full and swirled it in her hand, staring through it. “One of many.”
The Outlaws remained quiet.
“The nobles, of course, didn’t bat an eye until one of their daughters went missing after making flower crowns at the woods edge. Her friends say she talked about a toll, and she never came home that night. Then they put all their resources into that search party, but came out again with nothing.”
“So they’ve set the guards to ward people out of the woods so they don’t hear this mysterious bell that’s snatching people up?” Jason was increasingly sceptical at the tale, doubting that the ringing of a bell was luring people into the woods. He’d heard enough made-up tales from parents unwilling to accept their daughter hadn’t been kidnapped by some sprites, but had run off with the local butcher boy because daddy didn’t have a kind tongue.
“No. The guards did nothing. The mayor sat there on a nice little mahogany chair and refused to speak on it, except funnily enough the nobles stopped leaving their districts. The rest of us knew well enough to stay clear of the woods regardless.” She turned to Roy now, “I’m sure you probably noticed the lack of any butcher stalls on your way in?”.
“Yeah, and no showman spouting off about his local miracle cure either. Nice change of pace, honestly.” The archer mused on, but the humour didn’t quite reach his voice. He always was a sympathetic soul.
“Because no one's going out to the forest. No hunters, no foragers, no one. The nobles certainly won’t send the guards in, even if that means the poorer districts run through their supply of food dry. It went from a few disappearances a month, to every couple of days. We don’t have any nice walls to hide behind, so it's always these people,” She gestured towards the windows, to the women hunched over their basins of soap and dirty sheets, the men lugging piles of hay on weary shoulders, children scuttering after a ball with giggles bubbling out of them, “these people are the ones that are fair game to whatever is happening in the woods. Or, maybe the famine that seems to be only a week away.”
It was clear this was coming from a place of passion. She held the same melodic note of disdain from earlier, Jason could scarcely put his finger on it. Dinah didn’t hold the nobles of this Hold in high regard at all.
‘Then again,’ Jason thought, ‘in what hold are they ever held in high regard?’. His mind went to his own childhood, the rolls of his empty stomach and the cold that seeped into the slimy stones of the street.
“So,” Jason started, doing his best to keep his tone neutral, “People from the poorer ends are going missing after hearing a bell toll, the nobles and the mayor are pulling the guards back from doing anything and are basically playing a game of ‘If I don’t see it, it’s not my problem’? They’re not putting this into the guild when there are plenty of groups out there who’d take to the woods for pocket change from them. No one is doing anything at all, just letting their people wander off to the woods, never to be seen again. Why?”
It occurred to Jason suddenly that maybe he would never have a neutral tone, and would be stuck an unintentional mouthy brat forever, with women like Dinah forever glowering over at him.
“I never said no one was doing anything.”
“So who is working on this mystery?” Kori chimed, face tilted in curiosity.
“Oliver Queen.”