Zaerna Throt'oll

---

The female Drakken's display went largely unnoticed by the others in the room. For that, she was not surprised, but grateful. She was sure every man in the room was more than familiar discipline, and as the situations on the other side of the room escalated, Zaerna was more than glad to be left out of it. She had already pushed her Father's nerves by coming to accept a bride; the last thing she needed was to annoy a man as powerful as Wilhelm or as prominent as the Prince. The female readjusted her cloak, trying her best to survey the situation and not make sure there was no attention drawn to her own brides. Demure and chaste, but not extraordinary, her brides were exactly what she needed them to be. She had no desire for the hand of the Royal Gem because not only wasit obvious what kind of attention she would draw, but also because Zaerna needed no rat in her ear trying to ferret its way into her political pursuits. In few words, she sent one man into a fury and two more to duel. No, Zaerna needed mindless, dolled-up accessories, not a pathetic former-royal who thought itself on the Drakken's level. The fiery one needed some time in the dungeon, of course, but her spirit was not nearly as strong as Zaerna's whip.

Watching the men start to challenge each other out of pride and lust, the female realized she was the only Drakken to not cause a scene. The brides, most of them, cowered frightfully from the display, but the smart ones were realizing the ferocious Drakkens were barely more than arrogant dogs snarling over butcher scraps. The Princess stood on even feet, and as much as Zaerna wished for someone slap countenance of ease she displayed, she gave the Gem no more than a passing glance. The female wanted the Prince to challenge Wilhelm, if only because the Gem would break much faster under the younger man's more violent nature.

Slowly, she returned to her second choice, and herded her with sharp gestures to her new sister bride. She moved them off to the side, away from danger, but not enough that the other men had trouble seeing them. She was well aware not all choices had been made. After Wilhelm claimed the last remaining bride, Zaerna noticed that there were no more available, and that her hasty actions might have been too much so. As one of the youngest and least known nobles in the room, she would not be surprised if one challenged her just for the ease of it. But as she began to worry, two new brides joined the rest, and she was more confident that she would be left alone. She had chosen brides that were ordinary for a different reason, but the fact that they weren't really worth the competition was a nice benefit. She had already decided that, if needed, she would release the spitfire, but now was thinking that she wouldn't have to. Zaerna was no coward, but she felt no desire to give the Gems the satisfaction of thinking they had so much worth that they caused dissention between Drakkens.

Leaving the men to their debates, secretly hoping they would go at it just for the chance to see such a magnificent display, the female turned again to her brides, but kept Wilhelm in her peripherals. With a sugary smile, she addressed the woman still chained. "Now, beloved, let's try this again. What's your name? And, were I you, I'd take a hint from your new sister and answer politely. You don't want to earn any more time in my dungeon then you have already." She ended with a coquettish wink.

Sophia Ravencaller

No one even noticed. Not a single Drakken. Sophia had been beaten in front of everyone in the room and no one noticed. When the female drakken came back to her, Sophia got cold. Much colder than her skimpy outfit made her. She was chilled right down into her soul. She did not want to be taken by this female. Any Drakken male would have been preferable, even if he tortured and physically broke her. Sophia almost wanted to conjure a flame to protect herself from this woman, but she knew it was pointless. If this Drakken was a wind user like she suspected, her flames were a joke. A bad one at that.

When the female Drakken asked her name, Sophia did not have the will to refuse the question. She answered calmly, "I am Sophia, Formerly of the house of Ravencaller, my lady." Short, simple and sweet. Sophia did not exaggerate or embellish. Sophia was silent staring back into the eyes of the Drakken that would be her... husband, wife, whatever title. It sickened Sophia to think what possessed this Drakken to go against the norms of her people. What purpose would Sophia serve in the house of this woman? A doll in chains, a maid, or entertainment for her male guests.

Lienna

The long ride to Shadow Worth began for Lienna in a sleigh, trudging through the near-constant snowstorms of her northern home, minutes stretching into snow-blind hours as she tried to calm her fits of tears. Of course she cried, it was healthier than letting the water build up inside; for a dam will only last as long as its supports, and when released, the ensuing flood is far worse than the trickle of the former stream. Minutes stretched to silent hours, and by the time Lienna was transferred under guard from the sleigh to the carriage, her tears had all but stopped flowing. In fact, she managed to fall asleep on the way, clutching her little ivory statue in a white-knocked grip, like a single lifeline in the sea.

Her arrival at Shadow Worth was likely the last; the further distance and storms must have delayed their journey quite a bit. As such, her Drakkn guards ushered her in with urgency, half-dragging the girl to her dressing room and commanding that she hurry.
She'd trembled for most of her rushed dressing period, and when she had stripped to step into her bath, the touch of her skin brought a thin sheet of ice across the surface of the water. She bathed and dressed quickly, trying to ignore the ravenous stares of her captors. The dress provided felt alien to her, the light fabric and exposing design a stark contrast to the fur-lined winter trousers and coat she was used to. She felt horribly exposed in the glorified silk handkerchief, and with no shoes other than fur and leather boots, she was forced into the ballroom barefoot. The one silver lining Lienna could see was that she wasn't being paraded to the Drakken lords naked, as she'd heard in horror stories.

Yet forced the still was, and into a situation she couldn't have explained if she tried. Numerous Gem girls were already claimed, it seemed, and one Drakken man lay seemingly dead. Three were challenging each other, and a Drakken woman, of all things, had corralled two Gem girls into a corner. For a moment, the shock froze her; the next, she tried to retreat into the corridor outside the ballroom. Much to her dismay, her efforts were only met with impossibly powerful Drakken hands leading her to her place in line. One of her escorts' hands lingered a little too long and a little too low, and she could have sworn he sniffed her hair. Her skin crawled and her gut twisted, but she stood her ground, forcing a calm to wash over herself.

Water always finds a way, she repeated in her mind, Water always finds a way.

And so she stood, back straight and chin up, tears gleaming like ice in her eyes but yet unshed, discreetly turning her little ivory owl in her hands and hoping no one would notice it as she waited to be inspected like a prized fish in a market. Goosebumps spread across her skin - whether from cold or embarrassment, it was impossible to tell. Still, even with her anchor and her mantra, panic swelled like the churning of a volatile sea. She pushed it down inside her, knowing that this was not the time or place to let loose a flood of emotion. Instead, she replaced the fear wth an amount of determination. She would get through this. For her mother, for everyone in her country that relied on her and her sisters to keep the peace, take the blows for them. She had no choice.

---

(This has been edited)

Wow, I did not believe I would be a witness to a slaughter this quickly.. Berlin looked down upon the lifless body as the male Drakken. She hoped for his sake he would recover a proper burial- even is he was a Drakken scum looking for a Gem bride to take. She watched guards take the body away before directing her eyes toward the victor jus as he yelled out his success throughout the crowd of Drakkens and Gem brides. A smirk pulled at the corners of her pink lips an she let out an audible laugh- Why do all Drakkens feel the need to declare their victory to the heavens? Could not everyone under his voice see the lifeless body and the helmet the victor held in his hands? Such need to feel powerful and dominant can cause a victor to become defeated. There was no pride in taking a life- not even a Drakken's life- just to claim more Gems for himself. She was entertained, nonetheless, by the sudden outburst of rage the man had displayed. Berlin considered herself sheltered. The hills and valleys of Gemmenite land had kept her eyes innocent and pure. She had never watched the life draining from a body- until now that is.

She had a feeling that this was what her life would become- standing here like a pet waiting on its master. Berlin let her gaze fall from the male Drakken whom now spoke to his brides. Her eyes settled upon a female Drakken. A female Drakken? What will she use her brides for? Surely the female could find more willing maids than Gem females. Berline watched the fem take away her claimed brides from the two large Drakken males who were challenging each other over a single Gem bride. Did not all brides serve the same purpose? A slave to bind to the Drakken's home so they may impregnate or take their anger out upon?

Berlin continued to watch the female Drakken until she could make out he words the rolled off her lips. The Gem she was speaking directly to appeared to be in a handful of trouble as Berlin watched the female Drakken's lips from the word Dungeon. She hoped the Gem bride was strong-willed. Berlin had never seen the inside of any place but her little home in the hills and the marketplace in the town, but her grandfather spoke stories of how the Drakkens ruthlessly tortured their brides until the Gems give up the fight and let their life slip away. Berlin shook her head- What a waste of beauty and strength to keep a Gemmenite chained to a Drakken like an exotic bird in a cage.

Dragged from her home, stripped of her pride and offered to a room of Drakken monsters... That was Kasari's unfortunate reality. She was starting to get the hang of figuring out those who stood higher on whatever twisted hierarchy they possessed, noting the way they moved around, shifts in language spouted and the more obvious bows to those in power. Even her own 'captor', as she could see the female Drakken in no other light, bowed to the entrance of another. It only furthered her curiosity as to what the female had accomplished that she was allowed to take brides just as the other man could.

Through all of her confusion and feelings of helplessness, Kasari had been incredibly resilient and resisted all urges to break down or run away. But witnessing the brutal battle that ended in the death of a Drakken proved to be just a little too much for the Fire Gem. Ushered out of the way of the brawl, Kasari watched with tears streaming down her face as the Drakken's head was bashed in by his brethren. She was completely horrified, never had she seen something so nasty and cruel. Despite being of an element known for its powers of destruction, she had only ever used it to bring life and happiness to others, death in battle was not something she could readily understand. And it was all over a couple of brides and boasting rights. All Kasari wanted in those moments was to shrivel up and disappear, her mind reeling with all of the terrible possibilities for their futures. If they were willing to be that cruel to their own kind, imagine if a Gem spoke out of turn.

Kasari clasped her trembling hands behind her back, blurry eyes fixed on the ground before her feet. "I hate it here. I just want to go home." She mumbled to herself, choosing to ignore some of the later arrivals that were still being paraded into the room.

Aery kept her eyes on the floor, not wanting to see the murderer who was to be her husband. Realistically, she supposed, they all were murderers. But still. Beating a fellow into the dirt over a girl? That was just… monstrous.
Aery shyly glanced up at the girls who were to be her sister-wives. The fierce fire gem and the other wind girl. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad; the three of them could draw strength from each other. They could figure out how to survive whatever the man might do with them. And maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he’d turn out to be nice.
Aery realized the man was waiting for her name. She shook her head, not wanting to say it. But… She’d heard of other brides who’d refused to tell their names. They were given hateful ones.
Aery spoke up, her quiet, high-pitched voice wavering, scarcely more than a whisper. “My name is Aerienna, Aery, of the house Silverheart, if it please my lord.” She ducked, half hiding behind the other girls. She cursed her own shyness and inability to form coherent thoughts for the terror pounding in her chest.

Atallia Faeron

Well this was... shit. It seemed that the Drakken that had claimed her was being riled up by the Princess. The same Princess that told them that they were all sisters. Sisters don't poke an injured dog so it'll turn and snap their so-called sisters. More than likely, the shy girl that she had defended would become the centre of her anger. Either that or the bastard that claimed her would want a bit of a challenge and take her on. It was then that she realised that she could never allow the fire inside her to be dampened. The moment that happened, he became a danger to the weaker ones and it was the duty of the strong to protect the weak. Maybe the weaker one would get off lightly and just fall pregnant? Drakkens were naught but mongrels but mongrels still have a desire to see their offspring do well.

Shifting on her feet, Talli was about to make a snide comment before the gaze of another Drakken caught hers. Glancing back to Lugft, she noted that he had also noticed this and laid a gentle hand on Aery's arm, protectively dragging her back a step or two as she felt the heat rising between the two men. It seemed her analogy earlier was somewhat correct - they were like hounds tearing at each other's throats to get the bitch.

The fight itself was short, bloody, and one of the most brutal things Talli had every witnessed. Coming from a clan of Fire Gems, she had witnessed death before in the form of fathers being cut down that tried to protect their daughters. This... this was different. They killed those men back in her village because they deposed the Drakken rule but Lugft seemed to find pleasure in killing this man. The fact that he had challenged him was irrelevant - Lugft killed simply to relieve his stress. That didn't mean anything good for her or her sisters. She remained static, unchanging, her eyes betraying nothing except for the fire within her. One less Drakken dog. This was a war and like it or not, it was either her life or theirs.

When he asked for their names, she took note of the other girl he claimed. The weaker one, who introduced herself as Aery, could be protected from his fits of rage if this other wife had a proper way with words. When it came to Talli's turn to say her name, she raised her chin and allowed her eyes to fall away from the back wall and find conflict with his eyes. "It is considered poor manners to not introduce yourself if you expect another to give you their own name, Lord...?" Her eyebrow arched and despite the sheer difference in him, she found an exhilaration in not following the trend he wanted her to follow. Talli's choice not to refer to him as 'my Lord' would possibly also be noticed but she had already burned enough bridges for that to mean nothing

@my Lalia
@agentmanatee
@RomanAria

Wilhelm directed his gaze toward Lugft as he declared a challenge on a future date. His eyes narrowed at the younger Drakken, throwing a temper tantrum as though he were scarcely even a century of age. And all because he was so insecure in himself that a mere Gem could goad him. It was disgraceful, really. But still, he had issued a challenge to combat, and the Right of the Duel was one of the most holy aspects of Drakken culture, with but one possibly surpassing it- the Right of Spoils to the Victor.

"Very well Lugft," he said, calm and composed as ever, "One of my servants shall bear my terms to you at the proper time, when we have both concluded our... nuptials."

At that moment, the Princess moved to speak again. The smirk still playing about her visage left no doubt in Wilhelm's mind that she intended to further provoke those present. At first, he had found it amusing and it had piqued his interest, but her taunting had rapidly lost its novelty as it gave more and more hotheaded nobles the gift of gall to bark and bay about him as though he had any cause to pay them mind. It would cease. Immediately.

As Annayeva called her first sentence and began to finish her second, she would suddenly feel the air in her lungs fly from her, through her throat and out her lovely lips as her words dribbled to a halt in the middle of a phrase. It would feel to her as though she were being strangled by an invisible hand as she sputtered and gasped for air, but found none with which to sustain her breath. As panic surged into her eyes, she felt an icy grip fall upon her shoulder as Wilhelm's hand clenched upon it like a hawk's talon upon a hare. Little sips of oxygen began to respond to her, not enough to speak or perform any strenuous action, but enough that she would live, retain consciousness, and most importantly, listen.

"That. Is. Enough." Wilhelm's voice washed over her like a nightmare, pulling all of her attention, all of her thoughts to his words. There was no anger in his tones, no resentment or wrath to be found; only the certainty that he would be heard and obeyed. "As pleasing as your voice is, my little flower, today it has caused far more trouble to hear than it warrants. In time I will... educate you in such things. But for now you will be silent, lest I address you, and then you will be quick and to the point. Is that clear?"

Wilhelm chose not to wait for an answer; the look in Annayeva's eyes as they met his own was more than enough.

"Excellent."

A sharp glance toward Kithra told her that the same mandate applied to her, and that she would suffer the same fate should she dissent. By that point, however, Rynek had decided to surpass Lugft's own motion and challenged Wilhelm to single combat then and there. But rather than the Princess' hand, it was Kithra's fate that he wished to hold sway over. His boldness, along with his staking, were surprising enough that Wilhelm's eyebrow was raised in response. Then again, he suspected, it was likely all a facade; Rynek wanted the fight, and nothing more. Well, if it was a battle the royal brat wanted, who was Wilhelm the Black to refuse him?



"Very well, Prince," said Wilhelm as he released the more secure of his two claims, "Draw your weapon. We fight as we have before- he who yields or is unable to battle further loses. No elements- only steel."

As he issued his terms, which was every bit his right as the challenged, Wilhelm took his place several paces away from Rynek. His right hand reached across his body to rest on the hilt of his sword, but did not draw it. Instead, he waited, his hawkish eyes never leaving the Prince.

"On your guard."

Allowing his eyes to drag away from Kitty and admiring her form, they returned to Wilhelm. With a subtle nod, Rynek turned and whipped his cloak off, throwing it to a nearby Gem girl for safe-keeping. Another few brides had joined the line and they looked as delicious as the previous ones. At least he would still have a selection of impressive looking Gems if he lost. One white-haired girl in particular caught his attention but he was busy now - whoring came after battle.

Turning, he moved into position as his right hand settled on the long hilt of his blade. His left found the sheath, gripping it tightly so that he could both draw the blade and slice if the need arose. With that, his eyes met Wilhelm's and the true battle of wills begun. This was not going to be easy.

The two began to circle one another, the distance between them slowly closing as their revolutions continued. Rynek was aggressive and partially insane, but he was no fool. He would adopt the same method as Wilhelm, to wait until his opponent struck and then launch a counteroffensive. The duel was rapidly becoming a staring contest of lethal proportions, and sooner or later something would have to break.

It was Wilhelm that moved first. Without any warning he bolted across the circle toward Rynek, his right hand flying from his waist toward Rynek's neck! And if there was any doubt in Rynek's mind that this was meant to be anything less than instant death, the killing intent in Wilhelm's eyes would soon absolve it. But Rynek, ever the daredevil, did not raise his own blade to block. Instead, he swayed back enough to duck and avoid the attack before drawing his own blade to strike back.

It was all too late when he noticed that Wilhelm's sword was not in his right hand. Reverse gripped in his left, the black sword flew from its scabbard to lash at Rynek's face, and this time the Prince was forced to abandon his assault and block the attack, shifting his weight to dash past Wilhelm and out of his former mentor's reach. He smiled as Wilhelm's weapon, a black lacquered edge that curved like the reaper's scythe itself, found its home in the older Drakken's right hand. Rynek remembered it well; Wilhelm had them specially forged for his style of combat. It was long and sturdy enough to be able to parry any other blade without being overwhelmed by size, but the crescent shape allowed it to strike in tight spaces that a longsword could not. It was a terror to fight and a challenge to overcome. But, then, Rynek lived for a challenge.

Taking his white blade in hand, the prince squared his stance and advanced with frightening speed. His weapon tore through the air with grizzly force, and even as Wilhelm moved to parry his attacks he found himself needing to shift his stance and reroute his solidarity to sweep the blows aside. More worrisome still was that Rynek only struck with the tip of his blade as he danced about at the edge of Wilhelm's reach, justifiably afraid to close in any further. If he wished to attack, he would have to come into the center of Rynek's ungodly destructive force. A feat any Drakken would hesitate to attempt.

Any Drakken, that is, save Wilhelm the Black.

The instant Rynek showed a slight opening, a delay of merely a second between his attacks, Wilhelm was in motion. The curved black sword came flashing forward at viciously high speeds, and each strike was swiftly followed by another. The blows did not resound with the beastly force that the prince's did, but each of them sent tremors down Rynek's sword all the same as the Drakken Lord concentrated all of his power on the tiniest point and directed it to the vitals of both sword and man. A wide swinging rebuttal forced him to back away to avoid being torn in half, and from there the circling resumed.

"Your skills have improved."

"And yours haven't dulled a bit."

"Good."

From there the battle resumed in much the same fashion. Raw strength and harnessed brutality matched against honed dexterity and weaponized cunning. Overpowering force faced with debilitating precision. A white tiger locked in combat with a black viper. Neither gave an inch to any of the other's efforts, each time repelling the opposition only to seize the initiative and press their own attack. It seemed as though the cycle would never end. But Rynek was growing visibly tired. And though Wilhelm was being equally assailed by weariness, he showed none of it; he simply stood across from his old protege, his breathing constrained to normality and his shoulders held straight and tall.

As Rynek rose to his full height, he took his blade in both hands and burst forth in what could only be achieved with a forward leap, the gap between them rapidly diminishing. Sensing the oncoming blitz, Wilhelm stepped forward himself and lashed out with his own sword, targeting the single weakest point of Rynek's weapon with all the might and precision he had. When the two blade met, they stopped for but a moment as each swordsman attempted to push through his opponent's defense. But the iron will of the men proved more durable than the steel they held; after a single, final, monumental tremble across both edges, the swords broke against one another! As shards of metal flew outward from the point of the clash, both men stood aghast at the result. But Wilhelm recovered ever so slightly faster, and the back of his fist found Rynek's jaw as he struck the prince with a backhanded punch! It was not without reprisal; Rynek's fist soon nestled itself in Wilhelm's abdomen, knocking the wind from his lungs.

Rynek fell back, a dull pain arching from his wrist to the base of his spine. There was only so many times a body could absorb the shock of having a blade hammer down against its own blade before it began to wear down on itself. His teeth ground together, his jaw feeling a little too tight for his liking. He could taste the iron of the blood in his mouth and knew that the rest of him probably wasn't in a good condition. What had begun with a duel until a yield had very nearly broken down into a brawl for life or death.

Rynek had changed over the past few years, and Wilhelm had noticed. He could see that in the older Drakken's eyes. There was surprise there - no one had ever fallen level with him on the battlefield and if the older man was smart, Rynek thought to himself, he would begin to hesitate when it came to the prince. Granted, the Prince's blade had also shattered but he was the only man in the world to ever not lose to Wilhelm the Black. That in itself was a feat to be feared.

"I suppose I owe you a new blade." Although they had previously tried to tear each other to shreds, there was a new respect that had risen between them. Rynek was tired from a war and unarmored yet he still held his own against Wilhelm. "Take the Gem whores, the both of them. My point has been proved."

Wilhelm, ever composed and nonchalant, sucked in a deep, cleansing breath as he stood again and brushed the dust and metal shavings off of his overcoat. The prince had proved fearsome, that much was certain. But still he lacked restraint. If anything, he had become more of a loose cannon than before, and that was troubling. He would have to remember to keep a close watch on the princeling henceforth, he decided.

"If you held no interest in the ladies, you needn't have bothered with them. I'd have faced you all the same, if your goal was to flex your muscles before the court. I may even have faced you plainly. But no matter. A battle well fought to you, my prince. Enjoy the selection that remains, I have had my fill. And, if there are no other matters to attend to, I will take my catch and be out of the way."

"Kithra, Annayeva. To me, if you please."

With a simple gesture of his hand, he beckoned his new wife and her new attendant to his side and leisurely made his way to the side of the room, there to watch the rest of the proceedings with the formal half interest that had grown to become him.

"If you've any questions of me, I will give you leave to speak them. And them alone."

@Feisty-Pants@NarcissisticPotato@my Lalia
[@Every other bloody player in this bloody RP, pretty much.]

Princess Annaveya - The Price of Royalty

She was a Queen among Pawns, each of them easily infuriated, easily manipulated and brought to fervor. Marvelous it was, how easily just a few simply uttered phrases could rile up so many and infuriate even many more. It was not arrogance that had been uttered forth from her lips, but simple known truths. Facts by which enraged weakened minds and wrathful wills.

They would soon learn the price they were to pay if war was to be made on Gemminite Soil.

Yet the unveiling of this came at a price for her. In the midst of her little jab against Drakken egos, her breath left her. As fragile as a flower, her hand swiftly rose to lightly touch her collarbone while she collapsed to her knees. Her price for sewing the seeds of discord was pain, her lungs bit at her and ached. Barely in time her hand caught her fall as she still fell forward. Panic arose above her conscious will as she vainly tried to take in the sustenance to continue living.

Never was she one for combat or strife, it had always been her weakness. Like her mother, she had an aversion to steel and harsh actions. It was always so cold, so calculatingly cruel and precise; just as precise as the chilling fingertips that dug into the softened skin of her shoulder. Once he touched her, once he took control of his beautiful flower, Anna could steal snippets of air. Even still, an insidious whisper came from him directly to her ears.

It held no direct malice or anger, rather it held a stern threat to her. This Drakken that had chosen her to be his wife had proven one point by the settled calm that he possessed. This one was not easily goaded or brought to use force, of course one such as that would have chosen her to be his bride.

For the first time in her life as her eyes met his, she came to know fear. For a moment as she struggled, his tight grip upon her shoulder made her flinch while she returned to a stand.

A reprieve however, came in the challenge from the Prince. Young and wrathful, prideful and impulsive he seemed to be. Even in her moment of terror, the Princess still took note. Even fearful, her cognition still caught vestiges of weakness disguised as strength. Once her mind had honed upon this thought, the she regained the enigmatic poise expected of her as a Princess while she rose back to a stand. Defiantly as always her fists clenched, and she stood back while the battle took place.

Meticulously she watched on while the two fought. Secretly hoping for the death of the Younger through some grave accident as the death of a Prince would certainly cause great divides in the Drakken Nobles. Never was she one to be impressed by violence, and this display left her equally nonplussed. Even when it came to a spectacular finish, the Flower watched on quietly as the terms to the end were discussed. Apparently the girl standing beside her was to remain Wilhelm's property, as well as her handmaiden.

Wilhelm then beckoned for his new bride and her handmaiden to follow, and silently she followed. From the corner of her eye however, she cast a gaze to both the Prince and Lugft; it spoke of little more than a belief. A thought that she was looking down upon them both; the thought that she a Gem was of a higher, more enlightened being than those of Drakken blood.

He sat, and she gracefully slid to a seat down in front of him. Not asking for permission or anything of the sort, she was sure that this Lord would forget her presence soon enough once he returned to his other wives. At least she hoped.

It mattered little, the seeds of discord had been sewn. Now all she had to do was survive long enough to simply water the little sapling enough to bring it to truly root.

He then questioned his two prizes if they themselves had any inquiries.

For a moment, Anna was simply stunned. It was a gesture of courtesy, a sharp sudden change from the controlling measure he had forced her so painfully through just moments before. It didn't matter, what he had done before had more than proven the content of his character. This one was not above force to achieve the means to his ends, even if that force was so subtle as to steal the very air from her lungs to take away her ability to talk.

He was willing to take the very thing that made her who she was, her words. This one, with all his vicious predation wished for a Princess to be his puppet. Sullenly, she would not oblige him. Stubbornly, she would not play his game of only a few words uttered from her lips like a slave to a master.

If this one wanted to keep her, if he wanted to continue to have her, he would soon find that the only way to do such would be to treat her as his equal. Not as the timid puppet or nervous wreck that many of the other brides had become.

It would be foolish of him to think that she wouldn't think of a way to depart if she found the means.

So instead of questioning him like he wanted her to, like he had almost ordered her to, the Princess would not utter a single word. Even in spite of his show of power, her resolve hadn't faded; her resilience even greater as a result of his actions. This one was a coward who used force to get his way, rather than reason; she would not give him the satisfaction of her fear, doubt, or worries. Wilhelm would not know them, she would not tremble before him, she might now be his wife but she refuted the very idea of slavery.

Instead, she paid him little heed if at all while her eyes and focus attentively remained upon the last of the claiming. There were only a few left, it would all be over soon.

The eve of her wedding night was near.

@Saltwater Thief
@agentmanatee
@NarcissisticPotato

Prince Darion Rynek

There was nothing better than the taste of shock in the air! Well, then again Rynek could think of a few things that tasted better and unsurprisingly, most were related to females. Nonetheless, the shock in the air was almost electric around him. His peers had expected the Prince to be pounded into submission at the least or maybe even seriously injured. What they did not expect was that he had held his own against Wilhelm the Black and earned a draw. That draw would define the whispers that would follow him for another few months. The Prince was home and he was already creating a stir.

More importantly, however, was the fact that there was no whores in sight and he had yet to choose a few brides. After nearly losing his life, the urge to sate his lusts hit him hard and he'd be damned if he didn't have a woman within the hour. The remaining Gems were proving to be a rather delicious sight as well - it was quite difficult to choose.

Pulling his eyes away from the Gems, he took a few regretful looks at the broken remnants of his blade before shrugging it off - he'd have another one forged and this time, he'd make sure the lousy bastards made it stronger than Wilhelm's.

As Rynek slipped his cloak back on, he made his way over to the white-haired girl who had caught his attention earlier. Standing over her, he made for a rather imposing sight as he stared onwards. Blood dripped from his lip and there was a hunger in his eyes that could either serve as an aphrodisiac or a paralysis for most women. Both worked for Rynek. His hand idly drifted upwards, catching her chin and tilting it so he could examine her eyes in proper light.

"Well aren't you a pretty little thing. I've never quite seen eyes like those before."

The Prince, for all his barbarity, was still a Prince at heart and this girl had momentarily caught his fancy. Reaching down, he covered her hips with his hands and guided her out of the line, turning her back towards her peers. Leaning his lips to her ears, he spoke.

"How about we play a little game. I want you to pick two sisters for yourself. The aim of the game is to find ones I like because if I don't like them... well, I'll have to distract myself with you and I get bored of my toys very easily if I'm forced to play with them for an extended time. I advise you don't put up a rebellious act, little one; it's not in your best interests."

@Obscene Symphony

Lienna Orhhneaht

So little time she’d been here, and Lienna had already seen enough to twist a likely permanent knot in her gut, dread creeping over her like an ugly frost upon a window. The idea that just this morning she’d been eating dried meat and drinking tea with her mother sounded so far-fetched as she stood rooted to her spot, watching with wide eyes as two fearsome Drakken duelled with frightening fervour. Both were masters, she could tell this much from the way they moved so smoothly, their iron-willed confidence apparent to the daftest of onlookers. It was clear to her that pitted against a different opponent, both would win without question. But watching them dance around each other, she could see a familiarity between them, a deeply rooted and mutual respect. She could barely tear her eyes away from their deadly performance, a detached calm washing over her as it provided a much-needed distraction.

After a surprisingly quick bout for all that happened, both adversaries came to a draw, shattering their swords against each other. The respect Lienna had seen before surfaced again as they said their final remarks and parted, one returning to his new brides, the other, considerably worn Drakken making his way back toward the line of brides awaiting him. Or, more specifically, toward her.

It had taken her a moment to realize, still stuck in her reverie after the battle. She almost didn’t notice the Drakken’s approach until he was nearly on top of her, standing well over a foot above her. All of Lienna’s dread came crashing back at once when he stopped before her, her vision swimming and balance faltering as he lifted her chin to examine her. She could have sworn that, looking into those ravenous eyes, her heart had briefly ceased beating.

"Well aren't you a pretty little thing. I've never quite seen eyes like those before."

All of a sudden, her heartbeat returned to her, and she was sure that the enormous Drakken could feel it rocking through her body, see it pumping against her ribs. Each beat felt as if it shook her, darkness playing on the edges of her vision with each impact. A million terrible scenarios flashed through her mind at once, and she struggled to fully latch onto the thought that in that instant, in that shortest of moments as the Drakken’s hands met her hips, she’d gone from a vibrant young water Gem to this man’s ‘wife’, his reward, his toy.

Even as her new ‘husband’ guided her gently away from the line, Lienna’s mind was occupied only by the battle she’d witnessed mere moments before. What she had initially seen as impressive skill and grace with a blade immediately soured in her mind to crazed brutality and a brute strength that she could never even pretend to think she could overcome. His hands, those which had shattered a blade upon their own moments before, were much larger than hers, spanning a distance across her hips as he led her away. Absently, she placed her free hand over one of his, as if trying to confirm that he was really there. Her other hand turned her ivory figurine over and over again, a prayer to Naia repeating itself in her mind as she went.

"How about we play a little game. I want you to pick two sisters for yourself. The aim of the game is to find ones I like because if I don't like them... well, I'll have to distract myself with you and I get bored of my toys very easily if I'm forced to play with them for an extended time. I advise you don't put up a rebellious act, little one; it's not in your best interests."

His challenge was naught but a whisper in her ear, yet the weight it carried was astounding. Choose his other brides herself? This man truly was a monster. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew exactly what he was doing, his task no better than a blade pressed to her throat, a double-edged sword with no safe point to hold. She hadn’t a shadow of thought to defy him, for if she hadn’t already thought defying a Drakken was suicide, the recent battle only confirmed the suspicion. Not to mention that fire in his eyes, that look that craved either blood or something… else. She preferred not to think about it just yet.

However, standing there, held under control of this man, Lienna willed her strength to return. Water always found a way. When it crashed into an obstacle, it stopped only a moment before seeking another course. She knew, deep down, that she needed to take the same action. The path of least resistance. This was her life now, she couldn’t change that; all she could do was try to find the best possible outcome.

Silently, she nodded, and gently stepped forward, not daring to stray too far. Her eyes shone with tears, but they were old; none more came to replace them, and soon they would dry as well. This was not the time for weeping, this was the time for action, and the most important decision she’d likely ever had to face before. There were only a few brides left to choose from, and she’d seen the way her claimer had looked at them, surveying down the line as if he’d have a go at all of them. Looking just as he had, Lienna saw a few that he would be likely to enjoy, but as she looked, one caught her eye.

It was a taller girl than she by at least a few inches, with soft brown hair and blue eyes set into a canvas of sun-kissed, freckled skin. She wasn’t as beautiful as the rest of the girls in the line, that was certain, but Lienna saw a natural beauty in her, an inner strength. She looked like a girl who was focusing almost entirely on holding herself together, and doing a decent job. Suddenly, Lienna’s strategy became clear to herself - she would find the best possible outcome, for all involved.

She looked up into the girl’s eyes, but only for a moment, a conflict of emotion storming in her own. Then, turning her face away, she raised her free hand to point the girl out, eyes tightly closed as guilt wracked her, plans be damned. There was no easy way out of this, and she knew that promises and apologies were futile; she would undoubtedly be met with resentment from her new sisters all the same. Her pointing hand trembled, but only for a second, and Lienna willed with all her might for her body to stabilize. Collapsing in guilt and fear would get her nowhere, and she forced it down for now.

With a look toward her captor, she made sure he saw her choice before moving along. She passed over two brides, who’s faces washed with relief as she continued, the girls whispering to each other in low, shaken voices. It was only a few steps until Lienna came to a stop before another bride, a tall girl with long golden hair. Although she was beautiful, it was obvious that she was older than the rest, visibly so. Still, Lienna made her decision, and this time she did not look away, rooting her gaze into the eyes of the other as she pointed her out. Silently, she begged the girl to trust her, but she wouldn’t blame her for hating her for it.

Looking down once more, Lienna turned on even feet back to her husband, walking back to him with a new steadiness, her demeanour visibly different. “I’ve chosen, my lord,” she reported, looking into those hungry eyes once again, not letting herself look away. Both of her hands clasped around her figurine. She forced a smile, playing at the edge of her lips and shifted her weight to one foot, sticking out her hip to add to her attempted facade.
“I pray I have pleased you.” With that she ducked her head in a slight bow, and stood at his side once again, facing her new sisters, but looking down at her hands with hard eyes.
A less-than-lovely girl and an older one. Lienna could only hope that her strategy would work.

@NarcissisticPotato @HylianRose @Mbarnes

Amaryllis Stone

She stood among the other brides, a wallflower trying to blend into a background she did not match. She hoped to the goddesses that her dress was plain enough to keep them away but pretty enough to satisfy them. All in all she was fighting a losing battle for She had no idea what happened to un-chosen brides.

She swallowed hard as she watched one of the Drakken brutally and savagely kill another Drakken, hitting him well after he had died until no part of him remained the same. She swallowed, her nerves getting the better of her in that moment and for the next few minutes, Ama tried very hard to tune out the world around her. To let the sounds fall away and let her body find peace in a more peaceful plane, a dark cave with only the sounds of a trickling stream to be heard.

However, she couldn't ignore the sounds that soon came after, another fight breaking out.

Vivari blessed! Do they always fight so often? Is there not a peaceful hair on their heads, the brutes?! She thought sourly as she was pulled back, the look in her eyes hardening as she watched them both pull away. So far, no eyes had reached her for more than a few seconds, though each second was far too long for her. Her knees still would not stop shaking and she was trying very hard to get back to that place, the dark cave. That was where she'd rather be.

She hadn't moved an inch since entering the room, the only movement was the subtle shaking of her knees. The rest of her stood solid as the earth she was so fond of. She was still, rather painfully, repressing her glow from sight. She might have been one of the only Gems in the room not glowing. One of the Drakken might have thought her a mistake could they not feel the powers held within her.

Though her mind was going elsewhere at this moment, the movements before her eyes still caught her eye. Slowly, she was pulled back from her cave, slowly she was pulled back to the reality of where she was and what she was. She felt the hairs on her body all stand up on end, her skin prickling up. She felt her heart sink down into the earth and she envied it, for how much she wished she could do the same. Before her stood a white hair Gem, a single finger pointed in her direction. It wouldn't have meant too much to her had the girl been actively looking at her and she probably could have hated her if she had. She watched as the girl then pointed out another Gem, possibly picking out another, her Drakken husband behind her.

Ama felt her strength slow drain away and her grasp on her glow faded and it appeared. Her glow flashed in small bursts until it shone full force, a pale pink light that softly flickered around her. Her freckles dimmed under the soft pink glow around her and a green hue crept up into her eyes. On-lookers would see the fear in her eyes, the fear of the man standing behind the white haired female. She swallowed, waiting for what would come. What... would come?

Her eyes scanned those she would be with, the white haired female and the blonde. The white haired female looked just as frightened as her, though faking it relatively well. Her movements were... just a bit too forced... She tried very hard not to look at the man, hoping and praying that her thinking was incorrect and maybe the white haired Gem was simply pointing her out to laugh at her or something. Maybe she'd missed something in her attempts to mentally escape this situation. Maybe...

@Obscene Symphony
@NarcissisticPotato
@Mbarnes

Lugft smiled, a terrible thing, more akin to a hungry snarl than an expression of joy. Aery, Tirza, and the spitfire. The delicate, tiny flower, his blank canvas, a place to make a masterpiece. The spoils, feisty but obedient, and scared, a fine prize pried from the cold dead hands of a worthy foe. And the raging fire, angry, clever, and intensely stubborn, the wild stalion, that Lugft would break.

He of course, addressed the spitfire first, grabbing her by the waist, and dipping her close to the floor in one fluid, surprisingly graceful motion, then bringing her up, and placing his lips right next to her ear, "Do you feel that, little Gem? That is pure, unrestrained strength in my arms, the same arms that just killed that man, and now hold you. You, are mine now, and I will make you last, don't think I'll kill you so easy, you'll be with your new... heh heh heh... Sisters? As you call them? For quite some time. And, as for my name," He spun her back to her place, and looked at all 3 of his new brides, and addressed all of them, "I, am Lugft Huron, heir to Huron family. I welcome you, as my new brides."

Then, the duel began, and Lugft enjoyed it. Watching Wilhelm fight the royal brat Darion was certainly entertaining, but he knew the outcome would be nothing monumentous, a draw. Still, Wilhelm was un-defeated, and Lugft spent no time fawning over it, instead he turned to his brides, specifically to Aery, and stood right in front of her. He towered over her by a full 2 feet. She was practically shaking, and Lugft did one of the things he thought he could do to terrify her. He swept her off her feet, looking almost like he would slam her to the floor, then caught the small Gem, and kissed her with a passion like fire. That will startle her, he thought as Lugft finished the kiss, and swung her back to her feet. Then he turned, and began to walk to the door, but only after he had his still blood covered arms around his brides. "Now, I believe it's time we left my pretty Gem's, and on our way to the carriage why don't you decide who will get to sit next to me?" He let out a hearty laugh as he made his way to the door, wishing to finally head back to his manor, and make the special preparations required for his future duel with Wilhelm. And, if no one stopped him on the way out, he and the brides would enter the carriage, and begin the trip to the grand Huron manor, where the three young Gems would spend the rest of their days.

@RomanAria@My Lalia@Narcissisticpotato

Zaerna Throt'oll

---

Like an animal recently beat, attempting in vain to please its master in the wake of failure, the Gem cowered and offered obedience. Zaerna smiled warmly at her and inclined her head to show she was pleased, but said nothing. No more response was needed. Learning to commune with her master without words was one of many little things she would need to learn. She had deducted no punishment from the penance she had already earned, for good behavior was not optional behavior, though the female Drakken would remember the quick turn around. She suavely shouldered between the two, giving Kasari a stinging pat on the ass in response to her whining, and then rested one hand on each of her brides' hips. The challenges were settled, and now Zaerna, and her brides, had a clear view of the incipient conflict. An eager glint appeared in the Drakken's eyes and her fingers tightened against the two of them.

It was slow to begin, and the female Drakken watched with bated as the two men of renown circled some distance away from the herd of Gems. Now knowing their choice to a duel of swordsmanship, she wished she hadn't moved her and her brides so far, but she could still see their actions in clear sight. Other happenings occurred on the side of the room, but she paid them little mind. Lady Throt'oll was prideful, to the point of being narcissistic, but she was far from stupid. A chance to watch two men of such caliber square off was a time to observe and learn, and there was no Gem more impressive than the awesome display between Wilhelm and the Prince.

The two forces met, and it was an experience the female was sure to remember. The was a deftness, in the way Wilhelm held his body and sword, and brutality, from the Prince's unrelenting barrage, before unseen by her dark amber eyes; they darted quickly to drink in every move, and savored what she gathered from the sights. It imbued what she herself physically aspired. She could never match the strength of her male counterparts, no matter how much it infuriated her inside, and so had to compensate and use her smaller size to her advantage. She had to be quick and get inside someone's reach, and then strike once she had gotten too close to her opponent to hit. Her mace was short-hafted, considering she wielded it halfway down the handle. The display embodied what strived for, and from it, she would take any lesson she could. The duel ended in an anticlimactic draw, and Zaerna's lips formed a pout. She, too, wanted to duel Wilhelm, though in an entirely different manner. The female knew how to stop once her lesson was learned. As the two officially parted, her eyes lingered and watched Wilhelm retreat to his brides.

Slumping down a bit, as she had risen to leaning forward on her toes, the female looked around to see what other business needed to be concluded. To her surprise, she missed the entrance of a few new Gems, and in particular one with striking white hair. The Prince approached the Gem, and Zaerna was a bit put off; she had been too hasty in her decisions. Regardless, she watched the girl shakily approach the line of brides, and Zaerna made sure her and her girls were close enough to be considered. She stayed between her two, and when the white-haired girl got close, openly leered at her and inspected her body. She passed up both of Zaerna's brides, and the female Drakken could almost feel her fire Gem aching to be picked. After the pale Gem moved passed them, she cooed sympathetically and jostled Sophia's hip.

Aery didn’t even realize she’d been set on the ground until her knees buckled and she hit the floor; didn’t even realize she wasn’t breathing until the dark spots crowded out her vision. She drew a shuddering breath into aching lungs. That’s it, Aery. You’re a dead girl. If he acts like that the rest of the time, you’re a dead girl walking. She shuddered even as she forced herself to her feet, entirely numb from the terror. Gosh, when the adrenaline leaves your body, Aery, you’re just going to collapse. Even if he decides that you’re the first one he’s going to… gratify… with his erm… attentions. You won’t be able to do anything.

She realized that she was sandwiched between Tears and Lugft. She also realized that Lugft was jokingly asking who wanted to sit by him. Not me not me not me, Auram save me, I want to be five hundred leagues away from him right now. And yet she spoke up slightly. “M-my lord? I-I’ll s-s-sit n-next to y-you, i-i-if T-t-Tears o-or... F-Fireheart, here, d-don’t w-want to.” Her voice trembled. She hoped the fire girl wouldn’t roast her for the nickname, but she didn’t consciously remember hearing the girl ever say hers.
Aery took another shuddering breath since her chest started aching. She was too scared to breathe… not a good thing. Definitely not a good thing.

As always she started counting doubles in her head, breathing on every –eight. When she finally felt like she wouldn’t pass out she opened her eyes and forced a bland smile onto her face.
She would survive this. She had to.
@My Lalia @NarcissisticPotato @AgentManatee

It was hard to keep the shivers from being visible, but she was trying her hardest to seem like she wasn't going to crumble under the weight of the Drakkens eyes. She was doing okay, but she felt slightly overwhelmed with the sudden realization that the two men would fight over her. She looked at Anna when she began to speak again, but she was cut off. Kithra went to move to the princess's side and try to help her, but she realized as she took a step forward that it was Wilhelm that was stealing the air from the princess's lungs. She reached out slightly before bring her hand to her mouth, she so badly wanted to help but there was nothing she could do. All she could do was watch, she wanted to scream but she would get his unwanted attention. Great Mother, give her strength. She prayed silently as she watched.

Once Wilhelm gave the air back and the princess was able to breath, he turned his gaze to her. She quickly dropped her hand from her mouth and nodded slightly, she knew that he was telling her with that gaze that she would suffer the same fate if she went out of line, maybe even more so. She was after all just a servant, most likely something that he could to discard if he so chose to. So being a servant maybe worse than being a wife, as a wife could have children, and he would most likely want to have children with her.

Her attention was suddenly pulled away from her thinking when she felt the hungered gaze of the Prince on her body. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin slightly as she tried not to show her fear or disgust. But before she could back away the Prince threw his cape at her, it was a huge thing that smelled a little funny. She stood there for a moment with the large cape covering her completely. She felt both scared and angry, scared because these were Drakkens, monsters that threw their weight around without the slightest care who it hurts. And Angry because she didn't wish to be someones after thought, someone's play thing that they could break and throw away. She was a person, someone blessed with the power of the earth. If she was powerful enough she could bring this every mountain down, and at that moment she really wished she could.

Pulling the large cape off, she went over and stood near Anna. She didn't say a word to the princess, but words were not needed, not when the dual began. One would think that the older Drakken would of over powered the the Prince, but no, they seemed to be an even match. Kithra could see similarities in each of the Drakkens by the way they circled each other searching for a weakness, and with the way they lunged. But there was instability in the Prince, he was coming undone, if it was being in constant war before coming here or if he simply forgot his lessons it was hard to tell. From what Kithra could see Wilhelm seemed to see this as well.

And just as fast as it started it ended when both of the Drakkens blades breaking, If they can break the metal of a finely crafted sword... I don't want to think what they can do to a Gem! She thought feeling a little sick, as she knew that they could break any of her sisters here with a mere flick of the wrist.

"Kithra, Annayeva. To me, if you please."

If you please? Like I have a choice! She thought bitterly as she and Anna went over to Wilhelm after giving back the cape to the Prince. She was kind of glad that she wasn't going to go with the Prince, as she could see in his eyes that he hungered, but he no longer hungered for a fight, no he lusted now. Kithra bit her lip feeling sorry for the rest of the girls that were left as he wouldn't be very nice to them.

"If you've any questions of me, I will give you leave to speak them. And them alone."

Kithra looked at the princess and could see that she was feeling defiant and slightly humiliated about what happened earlier, so she wasn't going to say anything. Taking a deep breath Kithra looked at Wilhelm while biting the inside of her lip, "What is your intentions with me, my Lord? Am I simply to be Anna's servant?" She asked wanting to be clear what she was in all of this. She looked at Anna and smiled ever so slightly before returning her gaze to Wilhelm.

@Feisty-Pants
@Saltwater Thief

---

Tirza lifted an eye brow at her new husband when he introduced himself, he was full of himself but then what Drakken wasn't? She could see how he eyed his first two picks, he definitely hungered for them. Not that she was surprised, she was just the spoils of killing another of his kind. She folded her arms across her chest and held a look of boredom on her face, she was not impressed. In fact the death of her other claimer no longer bugged her. Sure there was a little fear in her but fear kept people alive, only an idiot had no fear. She knew how to survive and she knew how to fear others, but that never stopped her from taking some risks.

Her attention was suddenly taken away from Lugft when the so called Prince and the Black dude started to dual. But it quickly lost her interest, they were not fighting for her and she could already tell that it would end in no death. She could see that the two duelist's had too much respect for each other to actually kill each other. And like she predicted they ended in a draw, she brought her hand to her mouth and yawned to show her boredom. This is boring, dangerous but boring. She thought before her attention was brought back to Lugft.

He had picked up Aery and kissed her, she out of all three of them was the most scared of the Drakkens. He was doing that on purpose, that much she could tell. She reached out and gently touched the girls arm once she was let down, she looked at her worriedly and willed the air to flow to her and give her much need breath and strength. Tirza nearly snarled at Lugft when he laughed about them choosing who could sit next to him, but she held back as she gently helped Aery to her feet. But she could tell that the girl barely noticed her there.

"M-my lord? I-I’ll s-s-sit n-next to y-you, i-i-if T-t-Tears o-or... F-Fireheart, here, d-don’t w-want to."

BY ALL THE GODDESS'S AND GOD, SHE WILL NOT SIT NEXT TO HIM! She thought as her eyes went a little wide at the girls small show of bravery. She shook her head and practically latched herself to Lugft's arm as she smiled flirtatiously up at him. "You don't want them sitting beside you my Lord, you want someone who is a bit more exciting and willing to please you in any way that you wish." She said in a soothing and airy voice as she gently stroked his arm. She knew Drakken's loved to be pleased, and she just made an offer that would be hard to refuse.

She was more than willing to take what ever he could dish out if it meant he would stay away from her sister brides.

@RomanAria
@NarcissisticPotato
@agentmanatee

Atallia Faeron

Atallia raised her eyes to his in silent challenge, the Gold of her eyes absorbing the fire from her soul and beginning to crack into small fissures of red. What she found in his eyes was what she expected but it still scared her for the first time since she had been taken. What she found there was pure lust and a murderous instinct but she was unsure if her so-called husband could even tell the difference between the two. Certainly not after smashing one of his own kind's head in. Bringing herself back to that thought didn't help Talli as a small shiver scurried up her spine.

The speed of his movements surprised her, especially for someone so large. Within a single second, he had closed the gap between them and had almost painfully set his hands on her hips. Thankfully, she didn't make any audible noises of shock but she quickly moved forward, pressing herself close to him. He certainly wouldn't be able to beat her if she was practically hugging him. His next move did, however, produce a quick inhale of breath as he dropped her towards the floor. Just before she hit the ground, he scooped her back up and she protectively slid her hands into his clothing, gripping it tightly to make sure he didn't get any second ideas.

His words sent another shiver down her spine but she didn't allow them to deter her. The strength bit was a load of bullshit trying to show just how fearful she was of him. Talli was prepared for a difference in strength, however - all Drakkens were stronger than Gems but that didn't mean that all Gems immediately lost. The bit about making her last was enough to scare her but she wasn't about to back down; Talli would suffer if need be but she wasn't going to submit to him.

"I'm not yours, Drakken, and neither are they."

It seems her words were lost on him as he became engrossed in the duel between the two Drakkens. Atallia cared little for the brutal thing - she didn't find any entertainment in two men trying to murder each other but she wouldn't have minded seeing the Prince get trounced. The fight proved to be uneventful and as it drew to a close, Lugft turned to them and questioned who wished to sit beside him. Talli was prepared to stay silent but the shy girl, who had introduced herself as Aery, decided to volunteer to do the foul deed. She liked the nickname the girl gave her but she was insane, at best - Lugft would chew her up and spit her out if he got the chance.

Thankfully, Tears took the initiative and attempted to use her womanly ways to pull Lugft's attention away from Aery. For that, the other bride earned Talli's respect. It would be useless for Talli to do the same as Tears because Lugft would simply pick Aery out of spite. For that reason, she raised her chin, crossed her arms and regarded him with an expression that implied that she wasn't amused.

Prince Rynek Darion

Somehow, Rynek allowed the girl to move forward without at least surveying his latest catch, which was definitely a first for him. He knew he would have his fun with her later and Rynek was mildly patient.

Her first choice was strange, to say the least. The girl clearly was not as pretty as the others which led him to believe that the white-haired one was willing to choose brides that didn't look as good as her. Which presumably meant that she wanted Rynek's attention all to herself either out of lust or some weird act of self-sacrifice. Rynek hedged his bets on the latter which impressed him, even if it was stupid - if the girl was willing to go through everything he had planned for them just to avoid having her sisters do the same, then she was braver than her stance betrayed.

Pulling his eyes away from his little white-haired Gem, he allowed himself some time to properly look at the girl she had chosen. She looked plain compared to the rest of them, the runt of the litter, but Rynek could feel power practically dripping from her and it interested him. She was holding back on something. What it was, he couldn't say, but he could probably tempt it out of her if he pushed her that bit closer to the edge.

The next bride chosen was more to his liking. Tall, blonde and looking like she would be an absolute delight in bed. He took note of her age as well - she was older than the other brides but Rynek valued age for experience walked hand-in-hand with it and it had been a long time since he had had a Gem with some experience. All in all, he was impressed by the choices of the white-haired girl. She would be rewarded later on when he had the time but as of that moment, he needed to show his new brides precisely what they were in for.

As Lienna approached him again, he nodded his head in approval, signifying he was pleased with her choices. His eyes, not missing a single thing, caught sight of a white object trapped between her clasped hands. This piqued his interest and he slowly reached a hand down, pulling her two hands upwards. Using his other hand, he pried her grip open, his gentleness a stark contrast to the rough edges of his eyes that stayed locked with hers - he wanted her to know just the effect she had on him. As he opened her hands, Rynek revealed the small statue of one of the Geminite Goddesses and a small smirk rose to his lips. Plucking it from her hands like some rare fruit, he turned it in his grasp and for a moment, it looked like he would crush it.

"I have met faithful people before, little one. They curse you from their high altars and pray to infer the wrath of their countless Gods on you. They speak of their justice and take every crack of lightning as a message from the Gods themselves. Yet, when you spill the guts from their stomach, when you rape their wives and daughters and slaughter their sons, their Gods fall into a deep silence."

"Do not clutch onto petty ideas of faith for it will hurt you more than anything I can do to you."

With that, he laid the figurine back into her hands - he was not going to steal her Gods from her; it was her duty to turn her back on them. Gracing her with the ghost of a smile, he brushed past her towards the first one she had pointed out. Surprisingly, the girl didn't even need a helping hand to reveal her powers. The sheer terror that had engulfed her had brought it out and now she shone with a glow that beat nearly every girl around her. Hopefully she could keep it up because three beautiful Gems at his side, the head of a dead king and his daughter would receive a welcome that Drakka had never seen before.

"I imagine you all heard my name from earlier so it's your turn to pay in kind. Your names?"

Lienna Orhhneaht

Lienna received only a nod in response to her choices, but a nod was enough. She figured anyway that many future responses from her new husband would be similar and needed getting used to. A pang of sadness hit her then, for how bleak was her future if she’d have to not only bend to the every whim of this beast of a man, but also be expected to answer to gestures like a trained animal? In any case, it was beyond help; this was her life now, and there was little she could do but live it.

She was decently happy with her choices, once the barbarity of what she’d done was pushed from her mind; the Drakken seemed pleased with her second choice, which worried her, but he also looked a tad confused with her first choice. Lienna could tell he wasn’t stupid, though, and he was likely on to her strategy, but as of yet he made no mention of it if he did.

Unfortunately, it was barely moments after the dirty work was done that her first choice, the plain brown-haired Gem, began glowing, brighter and less controlled than Lienna had ever seen. Where she came from, people only ever glowed when they used their elements in excess, or were overly emotional; the girl must have been mortified to be shining so brightly, or just have a poor control. Likely both. Damn, she thought, if you’d have held on a little longer he might have left you alone. Now though, there's no telling what he might do. She flashed the girl a look of sympathy, trying vainly to convey her remorse. She had no way of knowing if her message was received.

It was barely a moment that Lienna had been in proximity to the Drakken that he took her wrists in one large hand and brought them up to examine them. He’d spotted her idol, she thought, and her suspicions were confirmed when he pried the thing from her grip. He was surprisingly gentle, but Lienna could feel the strength in his hands, and had no doubt that if she’d have struggled, he could have crushed those little hands of hers. Worse than that thought, though, was the look he gave her as he pried her hands apart; his eyes bored into hers, never flickering, conveying a bestial lust that made her legs tremble, and in the back of her mind Lienna briefly wondered what kind of fool she was for trying to pull his attentions to herself instead of pushing them onto her sisters.

He held her ivory statuette up for appraisal, and for a moment Lienna feared he would destroy it. Yet his grip remained gentle, though his words tore through her more painfully than if he had reduced the ivory owl to dust.

"I have met faithful people before, little one. They curse you from their high altars and pray to infer the wrath of their countless Gods on you. They speak of their justice and take every crack of lightning as a message from the Gods themselves. Yet, when you spill the guts from their stomach, when you rape their wives and daughters and slaughter their sons, their Gods fall into a deep silence."

"Do not clutch onto petty ideas of faith for it will hurt you more than anything I can do to you."

With that, Lienna was surprised to have her idol returned to her undamaged, and clasped it in her hands once again. She didn’t even know what to think after that, but thought a silent prayer to Naia all the same, begging for the wisdom to retain her faith and the strength to defend it. The things this man said, he said with such confidence. Lienna had no doubt he was speaking from experience, but even the thought of the atrocities he’d likely committed were lost in the surging dread she already felt toward her 'marriage' him.

"I imagine you all heard my name from earlier so it's your turn to pay in kind. Your names?"

Lienna, in fact, did not know his name. She must have missed it in her tardiness. However the other Drakken did seem to respect him, and judging by his skill in combat and the crown looped onto his belt (she did not want to wonder who’s head it had been taken from) she assumed he was a respected warlord. Nonetheless, it was not wise to serve a man without knowing what to call him.

“My name is Lienna Orhhneat, if it lease you my lord.” She rolled the r’s in her surname and drew the end of it out like a whip, her northern accent showing through in the name. Curtseying, she asked, “And forgive me my lord, but I’m afraid I was not present to hear your name. Would you be so kind as to honour me with it?”

@NarcissisticPotato @HylianRose @Mbarnes

The Princess stayed silent as she hesitantly followed Wilhelm to his seat. He mused silently as to why that was. Was she trying to preserve her dignity before the assembled, Drakken and Gem alike? Or was her stubborn pride to blame? Truthfully, it did not matter to him. He had claimed her and none had contested it, and that was all that mattered. Every wife he had taken for himself in his lifetime had come to be his in every sense of the word; Princess Annayeva would be no different. The only thing he required was time. If anything, her attempt at spite in silence only amused him. The defiant ones were always the most intriguing to take.

Kithra, on the other hand, sought to find her own strength by dispelling the uncertainty surrounding her fate. It was a valid inquiry, given that his discussion with her had been so rudely interrupted. And it was quite unusual for a Drakken to take a Gem as a serving girl rather than a bride. If nothing else, she was owed an explanation.

"You will be attendant to her, yes, but also to my other wives. You see, I am different from most Drakken in many ways, but the one that most concerns the two of you is this; rather than take a multitude of brides like the blowhards and braggarts you might see over there, I keep only three wives at any one time. I find that it is much easier to manage my house as such, and it allows me to give each of them the attention and care that they deserve. Unfortunately, one of them recently passed away- a lovely little country girl by the name of Alexandra. This is why I have come to the selection. Annyeva will be taking her place in my home, as is customary for me. However, there was something about you that caught my eye, and it seemed a shame to see whatever it was consumed by one of the dogs. But I digress."

He spoke in a calm, relaxed manner as he answered the question. If either of the girls were expecting threats, mockery, or some other display of dominance, they would be surprised by its absence. Wilhelm the Black did not partake in such things; he spoke matter-of-factly in all things, and allowed the image of him formed in the minds of others to perform all acts of intimidation for him.

"When we reach the manor, I will see to it that you are taken under the wing of one of the other attendants, at first. In their tutelage, you will learn the functions of my house as well as the methods of care for my wives. Once you have been appropriately educated, you will continue in your mentor's stead while they take on separate duties. Anything further?"

@Feisty-Pants
@my Lalia

Ignore