As the entire family swarmed them, Scyrven could see their bride shaking, her eyes wide and every inch of her clearly overwhelmed. It filled the Drakkan woman with some amount of happiness that Hestia clung to her hand, and she gently squeezed the girl’s fingers in her own, not letting go as they proceeded through the night. She noticed the girl ate only a little but did not comment, other than to offer especially tasty morsels -those fruits which were sweetest, the softest bits of the roast game birds, the lightest of the wines- in an effort to entice her to eat more.

Upon retiring back to their rooms, Gwillim instructed the lass to help her remove her armor. She was ready to explain the laces, intent on giving the bride as little cause for stress as possible, but the girl seemed to quickly figure out even the most complex of the knots that Scyrven favored. She made quick work of the armguards and had started unlacing the back of Scyrven’s chestplate, her fingers growing slower and clumsier before stopping altogether.

She half-turned, a confused inquiry dying on her lips as the bride’s eyes rolled back into her head and she slumped to the floor fainted.

Oh.
Uh.

To say it was disconcerting for Scyrven would have been an understatement – the only time she’d ever dealt with someone fainting had been one of her soldiers of heatstroke deep in the southern wastes.

She rushed to the bride’s side, scooping the girl up with little effort, feeling her clammy skin and slightly-too-warm flushed face. She placed the girl gently on the large bed and threw the windows open, calling what breeze she could into the room, soaking a washing-cloth in one of the basins of water that had been provided, chilling it with a current of air, and bringing it to gently dab at the girl’s face while her other hand loosened the lass’s corset laces, to let her breathe.

At that point she looked up to her mate, wondering what he thought of the situation. She wondered what she thought of it as well.

“I suppose that miss Hestia made our choice for us, love. We should retire early in any case- the morning dawns bright and full of blood, if we’re not careful.” She made the comment lightly, jokingly, but a faint bit of bitterness lingered. She’d been rather hoping the girl would have been… receptive to sharing a bed (the scandalous part of her mind had dared to hope it would have even been that night!) but it seemed that was off the table for the night…

She left the girl’s side, leaving the cool cloth on her forehead, and worked to remove her armor, slipping out of it with little difficulty despite that her hands were working the laces blindly behind her back. She placed it on its stand, conveniently provided by the bed for just this purpose, and turned to face her husband and bride once more.

Things weren't going quite as planned true but they seemed to be going well enough. Gwillim began discarding his armor. A feat that should not have been possible alone, but he'd long since learned to use bits of ice to both tie and untie the armor, as needed. He was just finishing up when the gem whispered something to Scyrvensrel and then ... fell to the floor. So much for things going well tonight...

Gwillim considered lashing out at the gem, but it was a common enough occurrence for some gems to be overwhelmed by the reaping process and find themselves in need of some time to adjust to the new life. Historically, if given time to adjust they tended to last better than most of the other gems. He'd let the girl rest. He watched as Scyrvensrel tended to the gem, a slight scowl on his face. At least Scyrven seemed to like Hestia... so that was a plus. Still... He was kinda looking forward to getting his own cherry pie, and now that was, as Scyrven noted quite out of the question thanks to the gem's frailty. Of course, if they'd been granted two gems, he'd still have one to play with right? or would there be two bodies to glare at? And why should the blood wait till dawn to spill anyway?

“I find myself ill suited to rest, I have an itch that needs tending. Rest if you can, someone will need to be level headed in the morning.”

Gwillim dressed in light leather breeches and hardened leather vest over a padded jerkin. He added a thick leather belt to which he attached his karambit, a longer one handed saber, and a flask of water, so he'd always have his element near by. His feet donned supple leather boots, he was going stalking, he didn't need heavy shoes to announce his presence. He was just buzzed enough to for is anger to simmer, even though there was plenty of logical explanations for events tonight. He'd been expecting too much clearly, but there was still a chance to see those hopes come to fruition... And he was just drunk enough to be willing to risk the wrath of a prince by declaring their judgment wrong so openly.

He stood and walked over to the gem, to Hestia... He could probably wake her and still have a good night. But that required focus, and precision that his mind was struggling to maintain. The armor was a habit now, and he could do it in his sleep, almost. But this... if he messed something up she'd be dead. No, he'd let nature run it's course. He carefully lifted Hestia, and moved her to the silk sheeted bed, prepared for her. Tucking the gem in, he re-applied the cool cloth Scyrven had provided to the gem's forehead. He stood watching her rest a moment, his face blank, thoughtful. His rational portions wanted him to avoid trouble tonight, but the tourney had his blood lust running, and this was as good an excuse as any to feed it. He reviewed in his head the Drakkan he had seen that night, and began making a list of potential targets.

Hestia did not move or make a sound as Scyr took care of her. The whole experience of her Reaping had simply been too much on a fragile soul who had experienced no more than abuse at the hands of the man who should have been her father. She did not stir until Gwillim lifted her from the bed. She moaned softly and wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as she felt the bed fall away from her. When he laid her down she clung closer still until eventually, her arms softened at the feeling of the new bed against her back. She lay quiet again, the cool cloth against her forehead causing her to fall back into her fainting slumber.

It was not but an hour later that she jerked awake. As she sat up the cloth fell from her forehead and panic riddled her body. She shook and her limbs barely did what she demanded of them. She had fallen asleep at the mill. She was sure of it. Hestia was going to receive a beating for sure. She could already feel the leather against her back. The heat of the poker. The heat of his breath and the wet of his saliva as he screamed. Maybe if she got up quickly enough she could get back to work before Oldyn came for her. But.. what if he had already seen? What if he had something planned for her when she came back inside? Hestia choked back sobs as she removed herself from the bed. The clothing on her body was strange but she paid it no mind. Her fear had taken over her.

Falling to the floor, she slammed into it. It knocked the wind from her for a moment but the tears still spilt freely down her face as she curled up, struggling for breath. After a moment or two, she was able to push herself up and she moved toward the door. Desperate hands fumbled against the knob. She couldn't breathe. She was going to be beaten for sure. She had to hurry. Finally, the door opened and she fumbled her way down the hall, attempting to be as quiet as possible. She felt light-headed as she held her breath to avoid any more sounds of tears.
'Please... Please don't let him know. I promise. I'll be good. Please, I'll be better. I won't do it again. Just, please. Please!' her mind screamed as she used the wall to support herself while she approached a staircase.

Clang. Clang. Clang.

The sound of the Warden’s chains rang through Arden’s ears. The woman refused to flinch in fear in the presence of the monster, instead her hardened expression remained as she glared at him without hesitation. He was the master of a prison, surely glaring prisoners would not phase him; likely a common occurrence in the hell he was used to living in. A yank came at her wrists as Heccarim pulled her and Sorrin behind him. The yank came so suddenly, the Gem almost tripped on her feet before steadying into a walk. Finding her footing against the sturdy ground, her glaring eyes returned to the back of the beast as she followed in silence.

The walk through the city was quick. Arden knew she was tall for a gem, a female gem at that, but the Drakkan must’ve been a foot taller than her and it was a struggle to keep up with his pace. She looked over to her sister, Sorrin, who was noticeably shorter than herself. She worried how the blonde haired girl was fairing, she seemed petrified in the Choosing and all Arden wanted to do was speak to the girl, console her even. She didn’t dare speak though, given that the Warden was guiding them in and out of the alleyways, purposefully avoiding the main streets; was he hiding them?

Once the trio reached the edge of the city and emerged from the buildings, the Warden rang a bell that shrieked through the empty desert. It was cold and now that they were standing in the open with no protection from the roofs overhanging the city, Arden realized it was raining. The droplets found her skin like bees find flowers blooming on a spring day. Her head naturally cocked back as she looked up at the blackened sky. If we don’t leave soon, we will freeze out here…

It wasn’t long before a carriage could be heard in the distance, the sound of the wooden wheels cracking beneath the weight of the structure echoed in the emptiness of the desert. Arden watched in curiousity as it drew closer until it came to a lulling stop in front of them; the strong odour of death following it. Her eyes studied the carriage, everything about it was designed to scare. Within moments of the carriage halting, two grotesque creatures emerged. Arden felt her face twist into a shocked and disgusted look, she had never seen something so hideous in her life before and how they looked at her with their yearning eyes sent a shiver down her spine.

The tiny creatures opened the carriage doors for the Warden, following behind him and taking their seat beside him. They sat erect with pride next to the Drakkan; clearly he was well revered in this dark land. Another yank came at the chains attached to the cuffs tightened around their wrists, pulling them inside the carriage. Arden found her seat opposite of the beast, Sorrin next to her. Once the two girls were situated, Arden looked over at her sister, hoping the girl would notice her empathetic look before turning her attention back to their keeper.

He began to speak, in the same eerie voice he had used when they were delivered to him. What came next almost seemed practice, a speech of some kind designed to imprint terror onto them as a desperate effort to ensure obedience.

You will not attempt to escape.

Arden turned her look away from him, purposefully not giving him the attention she knew he expected his speech to demand, and found herself watching as the Hoblars began boarding the windows. Another tact used to scare them, to make sure they felt as trapped as possible.

I will cut off her limbs and feed them to you

It was almost humourous to her that a man who called himself the Warden of Harand Kor, clearly a title to be feared, would have to go to such lengths to scare his brides. Gems, who she had learned while in Shadow Worth, were nothing but objects. Weak objects.

Stripped and beaten

She looked back to the Warden from the corner of her eye as he finished threatening them, defiance lighting behind her gaze. Stripped and beaten. She had already been beaten as a result of an act of direct defiance in the face of a royal. They needed her. He needed her, he had made that clear already. An heir for Harand Kor.

Do. I. Make. My. Self. Clear.

Arden turned to face the Drakkan, her steel grey eyes meeting with his. Her face wore an expression of that of a person in power angered by someone’s unjust actions.

”Warden of Harand Kor, was it? She asked, her voice steady. ”Fear will not bring you an heir to your prison. Your threats are empty, Warden. You might be lucky that there is two of us, but in order to make sure your prison continues to thrive, you need us. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been at the ceremony, collecting your prize. You can beat me all you want, you can burn me, starve me, isolate me… It won’t matter because you won’t kill me. You need a child, and your chances are higher with two. But I swear, it won’t be easy for you.”

Arden stared at him for a moment, her heart racing against her chest, clawing to escape. Even she knew she was taking a heavy risk and she was scared, but she couldn’t let him hold all the power. She couldn’t let him win and turn them into terrified little souls. If she had been alone, she might have kept quiet, but she was with a sister and her sister needed to be protected. If he was angered at something, he would always look to her for this moment and take it out on her, hopefully leaving Sorrin alone.

”Do I make myself clear?” She finally asked, her face still unflinching.

Just as Nadia finished asking Xaelia for her friendship, Keregar's hand shot out and grabbed her sister-bride, a dangerous look in his eyes before he slapped her. Nadia stood there in shock as he turned his attention back to her, ordering her to remove her gown before going on to mention one of the Drakkan gods- Sorrak. She couldn't remember exactly which one that was- she'd purposefully ignored those facts- but from the way he'd phrased the statement, she could guess it was the uh, procreation one. She flinched as he reached for her, not knowing what to expect and unable to keep herself from reacting, she closed her eyes- until she felt her hair fall loose as he pulled at the small string she'd used to tie it up.

She opened her mouth to speak- something that wouldn't have done her any good probably, but was cut off by the appearance of some Drakkan, who apparently hadn't been invited to the party and was crashing it instead. Keregar pulled a sword, quickly putting himself between The intruder and them, before ordering them out of the hall. She followed wordlessly, into the cold rain and suffocating air outside.

By the time they arrived wherever it was they'd been led to, Nadia was soaked. Her hair clung to her face as she held her water-heavy skirt off of the floor, and she glanced around immediately for a fireplace to sit by. She didn't see one, but then they were just in the front room... The guards left before she could ask them anything and a new Drakkan appeared. He was very similar-looking to Keregar, but also obviously much younger. She almost asked him his name before his own question caught her off guard.

"I suppose we are?" She offered, a small smile on her face as she tried to think what the question actually meant. Was a mother just a title to this, boy? or a caretaker? It felt strange to think of someone who was already bigger than her, and possibly older than her as well, as a child.

“That’s not how mothers work,” Xaelia said, whether to the boy or to her, Nadia couldn't tell.

"Well, stepmothers kind of work that way, I think." She said to Xaelia before turning back to the boy. "I'm Nadia, and this is Xaelia. What's your name?"

---

As she and Amalia finished their introductions, Wilhelm seemed pleased. Perhaps Onyx wasn't reading him correctly but, perhaps he was glad to have the two of them? He started to speak, before someone broke into the room, a posse trailing behind this new Drakkan as he demanded a bride of his own. As Wilhelm moved to get a better look at the intruder, Onyx followed him, staying within a step of him as he'd ordered. She wasn't about to get snatched up by some other brute, after having only just met this one.

Watching the scene before her, she couldn't help but think of what a ridiculous thing it would be if anything like this ever happened in one of her books. Brides were not hot potatoes, and yet, here was a man who thought he could just up and take whomever he pleased. It was ridiculous.

She noticed Amalia then, hiding at Wilhelm's side like a frightened child. Reaching out, Onyx tokk her hands and pulled the girl into a tight hug, whispering to her that everything was fine and she didn't have to be so scared. None of the other Drakken in the room had jumped on the newcomer yet, so obviously they weren't worried about him actually taking one of the girls. "Here, stay by me, and I'll stand by you, alright Amalia?" She whispered as she released the girl from the embrace, a small smile of encouragement on her face. "Everything will be okay."

---

Kendra couldn't hold back her smirk as her husband's companion spoke. So the prince wasn't very well liked by Drakken or Gems it seemed. As Kaivor introduced himself, she made a mental note about the no-nicknames thing. Her first impression was that he had no idea what to do with her- whether she'd been too forward and thrown him off, she didn't know, but the way he'd introduced himself alone told her just enough about him that she thought maybe, just maybe, she was lucky. Perhaps he would always be so easy with her? I could live with that...

As the companion left them to enjoy the feast that was set out for the various groups, Kaivor asked her if she was also hungry. She felt her stomach grumble at her as soon as he asked, and she smiled at him before responding. "I rather am, Kaivor." She liked the way his name sounded as she spoke- without any title to mar it. "If you don't mind my asking, who was your friend that just left?"

Before long, a commotion drew her attention to the door, where a Drakkan in a cloak stood, yelling about taking a bride for himself. Carefully, Kendra moved behind Kaivor, and hopefully out of the newcomer's line of sight. It didn't matter, as he quickly found some other girl in the room that caught his eye, and even though she wished she could help the girl she knew that here, there was no more helping each other. In a room full of people, the gems might as well have been on their own little islands...

---

The kid just smiled. It was an innocent smile, or at least as innocent as a Drakkan could appear. “I'm Varzar. And you two are my new mothers. That’s how it works here.” He said to Xaelia. “I’ve had three mothers already. Though my first mother died when I was born. The second had an accident when hunting. I think Alia accidentally ate her.” He said it rather off-handedly. Then he was quiet for a moment, pondering on what happened to the third. Then he remembered: “Oh and the third one wanted to run. She had hair like yours!” he said excitingly, pointing at Nadia. “Dad said she was a fiery one. He liked that. One time he came out of Sorrak’s Sanctuary with three big burn wounds from her.” He said rather excited. “He also likes it when they run. He lets them for a day or two. Then we all mounted up and went hunting for her. I didn’t catch her though. Karog, my brother-“ but then the kid got rather rudely interrupted as a Drakkan, slightly bigger than him but with a lot more mass appeared behind him and pushed him away while saying: “Move away turd.” The kid didn’t say anything, though his eyes held a mixture of anger and pain.

Behind the first, a second Drakkan came. Who looked exactly like the first. Both were built like bulls. Hitvich and Herstvich. One whistled when he saw Nadia and Xaelia. “Look at these fine things.” The other mentioned. Both were looking up the Gems from top to bottom, letting their eyes hover over the more prominent features of each Gem. Especially Nadia who had to do with a piece of clothing less. One slowly licked his lips as he observed her figure. The other of the twins grabbed a jug, pour two cups full of a strange liquid and offered the cup to his twin brother. The smaller Drakkan who was pushed aside finally got up and vanished back around the corner he came from. “You think he’ll spare them until we’re in Kereg-Kor?” one said to the other. Prompting a small laugh. “One maybe. He’ll spare the prettiest.” The other one seemed to ponder upon what his brother said for a moment. “So which one you think it will be?”

“The brunette of course.” The other twin said in an instant. Though his brother had his doubt. “He likes them fire-kissed though. I’d go for the redhead.” The other twin shook his head. “Sorrak guide you when you’re getting your bride, brother.” Though the remark wasn’t really welcome. The insulted twin, sitting from his chair, pulled a knife from his back and flung it at his brother. The blade impaled itself into the wooden cup. Right before a wide-eyed Hitvich. Who threw the cup down in a fury and charged his brother. The two clashed, sending the chair to topple backwards. The hind legs of couldn’t bear the weight. A crack later and the two were spinning off the collapsed chair. The other twin, Herstvich got on top of his twin. Two hard fists landed on Hitvich’s face. Enraged by the attack he stretched out his hand. The magic gathered in his palm in the form of fire. A third fist of Herstvich landed. Hitvich pushed his hand holding the fire into his brother’s side. The compressed flames busted outwards. The flash was enough to scare his brother off him. He managed to get up and wipe the blood flowing from his nose away. Herstvich wasn’t done though. Realizing what his brother had done, he too reached out with his magic. With his power he gathered the moister and water in Nadia’s dress together and froze them. His brother knew what he was doing though and reached out again. Hitvich began to form fire in his palms. The twins attacked exactly at the same time. The skirmish raged on for several moments longer. Soon one or the other was lifting chairs and throwing them around. Smaller furniture was soon reduced to splinters and shattered pieces.

“Enough!” Keregar’s angered shouted over the commotion. Herstvich was about to throw another chair as his brother was preparing another blast of fire. “What is going on?” he asked calmly. But everyone knew there was a fire raging inside of him. “Nothing… father.” One of the twins said, swallowing hard. “Outside! Both of you!” Both twins went outside. Followed by Keregar. Soon the clashing of metal and thunder mixed from the outside.

As quickly as the smallest, youngest Drakkan had vanished, he appeared again. This time holding two cups of tea and a smile. “Sorry for that.” He said as he walked through the splinters of the chairs and tables his twin brothers broke. “They often get that way.” He tried to explain as he handed both Gems the cups filled with tea. “It’s tea of Gemmenia. They sell it in the market.” He tried to reassure the Brides. “You’re both from Gemina right? How does it look there?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

The new drakken entered with a bang and shout. Rya had seen his kind before, the type that even some drakken were wary of. “ Any of our kind that look as he does are to be feared twice as much, for they are a hidden threat. Many of your kind look upon his face and think the same as your friends, however, I have no doubts he has had to prove himself time and time again. Azilon’s words from yesterday echoed around her. He had been talking about the prince, but this drakkan fell in that breed too.

The entrance of the drakkan had caused the crowd to shuffle. Some making a quick exit, others pulling close. Protecting prizes or simply closing ranks for a better attack strategy. This was a game that was known well to all. The chain that Azilon had attached to her waist operated exactly has it had been designed to, keeping her attached to whomever had the other end of it. Which was Lienna. A hulking drakkan, corralling his two terrified brides had managed to force his way between the trio. Other figures quickly filled in the gaps. Rya could just see Azlion through the crowd.

She opened her mouth to call out, when the world attentions shifted to her. Or rather, the girl that was attached to.

"That one. I want that one. I'll kill anyone who begs to differ."

Rya felt her breath catch in her chest, there were too many eyes, too many people, too much looking…

"The room was crowded and all the eyes were looking at the silver haired gem. The pair had drifted from their master, which was alway dangerous, now more so than ever. But he was close enough to help. The older gem saw that his mind was made up. He didn’t beg to differ He already had a thing he didn’t want, this would spare him from two. The fact that the whole act would dishonor his family was more reward than a gembride could ever be- "

Rya clamped her hand over her own mouth and gave Lienna a horrified look. “I’m--I’m sorry. I don’t… I try not to do that anymore,” Her eyes cast a quick glance around, it was clear that those nearby had heard her, but those further back seemed to have missed it. “At least I didn’t ...shout it--,” It was on her second sweep of the room that she spotted Morganna, standing next to a mountain of a drakkan, just as far away from them as Azilon. “He’ll hurt you,” said Rya, her voice little more than a whisper. “I don’t want him too,” Rya took a few steps backwards as the attention became split between Lienna and Rynek. The chain caught on her waist as Lienna didn’t understand that meant to move. Reaching out, Rya grabbed the girl by the wrist and pulled her through the crowd.

Morganna didn’t care about Gems. Didn’t care about Azilon losing his toys. But taking Lienna would be a slight against the house Dantanath and that might be enough to get her to help when her brother wouldn’t.

They reached the pair shortly, most drakken unwilling to get involved and neither helped, nor stopped the two as they made it through the crowd. “P-please Morgana,” said Rya softly, her head tilted low, too occupied at the task at hand to pay much mind to the other unwelcomed guest of the night. “It-It,” But the words refused to form in her mouth, so she stood there in silence.

Zeldria had been oddly quiet even though Ineraz had done his best to present the appeal of hunting, which she had asked about. At least Sera expressed an interest for it – who would have thought that a Gem might find something so “violent” fun? As expected, both brides had trouble eating, but managed at least a little; about as much as a bird might. No wonder their race was so frail and weak if this was any indication of their usual eating habits. Though the girls were probably exhibiting some sort of a stress reaction after being removed from their former environment. Such withdrawal was something Ineraz had seen often enough with animals when he first relocated them for taming, though those just as often reacted aggressively. Would these female Gems eventually show their teeth and claws, too? The male Drakkan was rather doubtful of the pair’s capability to do such a thing. However, even the weakest beings usually had some way to at least trick their predators. Whatever could his own pretty flames come up with? These were some of the thoughts Ineraz had as he watched the refreshed brides enter his bedroom and observed their course of action.

Ineraz noted that Sera, for one, did not take the dress she had been wearing with her, so perhaps she preferred plainer outfits just as he himself did. The tunics might not emphasize their physical appeal as much as the dresses had, but he thought the way they showed realistically just what his brides had was far more natural. Besides, finery or not, these Gems were certainly not lacking in femininity and base attractiveness. Ineraz couldn’t help his sly grin, nor how he licked his lips in quiet anticipation.

He saw the way Sera’s eyes flicked to the bedrolls and was honestly a tad disappointed, enough so that he might have pouted were he a few decades younger. His eyes tracked her movements and he was intrigued by the seemingly habitual fashion in which the little one set her bedding – facing the door, as if expecting some sort of danger to come from the outside. Did Sera not realize that she shared a room with someone who was a much likelier source of threat to her than some unknown outsider would be? Or had he managed to gain a modicum of her trust so soon?

Ineraz blinked in surprise as the small fire Gem neared his bed and stood within arms-reach, observing him. They practically stared into each other’s eyes (he, with his glacier blue, she with her blood red), and Ineraz cocked an inquisitive eyebrow when Sera cupped his cheek. What exactly was she trying to accomplish? What a strange Gem. Before he could decide whether to react and how (possibly by petting her or offering her a kiss), Sera had already returned to her bedroll on the floor and apologized softly.

Ineraz sighed quietly, but did not let the minor setback discourage him. “No matter,” he said calmly. “We have many nights ahead of us, my sweet,” the endearment flowed easily and earnestly from his tongue. He certainly wasn’t embarrassed to give his brides appealing nicknames, and if they ever decided to do the same for him when in private, he would not mind greatly. Either way, judging by her reaction, Sera was definitely curious at the very least. Ineraz could barely contain the lustful rumble building in his chest from turning into an outright growl, especially because he was convinced he caught her eyeing him, or rather, certain parts of him.

Then he turned to Zeldria, who would hopefully decide to slake his ever-growing lust. If not, he would simply have to take himself in hand. And if his brides would be disturbed by being watched, asleep or not, well…He wouldn’t let it deter him. It would be their own fault really, refusing such a charming offer. Perhaps they would even be convinced (aroused) by such obvious want, as voyeuristic as it would be of him.

Ineraz remained sitting on the bed, to all appearances very casually looking at Zeldria, his best seductive smirk reserved now only for her, his hand proceeding to stroke his thigh slowly. In truth, he was barely holding himself back, and if the remaining Gem did nothing soon, he would take his pleasure from his own flesh, and he wasn’t above exaggerating his enjoyment either, though he was usually quiet in such solo pursuits.

Bree felt a small amount of tension fall from her shoulders as Kagan got up to ready himself for the bath. He turned away from the pair to give them the illusion of privacy. A favor Bree felt no obligation to return as he stripped away his clothing, eyeing him the same way she might appraise a horse. Wonder mixed with a healthy amount of fear. She’d seen naked men before, her brother had little shame in hotter climates. She was relieved to see that the rumor of a barbed tip was false. Although that did little to quell the nausea rolling around her stomach.

She was startled out of her thought by her tiny purple problem touching Bree’s dress. The girl had done nothing wrong. She was a little too peppy, borderline obnoxious. And Bree knew that none of this was her fault, But that didn’t matter. Her very existence made Allie’s less likely. Her provocative nature and ease with her own body seemed more a desirable trait than Bree’s own...lacking skill set.

Bree snatched the girl’s wrist as it touched the top of her dress, squeezing it. Bree’s face flushed red at the Adora’s boldness. “Thank you, for your thoughtfulness,” Bree’s whispered voice hinting a poorly concealed rage. “But don’t touch me, ever,”

Being with Kagan was expected, she planned to be with a drakkan. Allie and her both. It was an inconvenience above all else. But...Adora touching her felt like betrayal. Once she was certain that the girl had gotten the message, she dropped her wrist and turned to removed her own clothing. She left her ruined dress and under things in a small pile on the floor. Bree paused for a second on her way to the tub eyeing the two abandoned glasses, hesitating over which to grab. She finally settled on Kagan’s and filled it with the remaining wine. Although she longed for more for herself, she didn’t want to fog her mind any further.

While her sister-bride made a show of getting in the water, Bree slipped in with little ceremony, careful not to spill the wine as she did. With Adora taking the spot across from Kagan Bree sat somewhere between the pair. Her body giving a few small shivers as water started to warm her. Truthfully, she would have appreciated a little more heat, but that was personal preference, this was more than fine. After a minute she held the glass out to Kagan “I’ve always found that a bath pairs best with wine,”

Bree had been in somewhat of a ball when she first entered the bath, as she warmed, her legs began to uncurl, stretching out into the water, she was only able to stretch out half as far as she like when her legs crossed over Kagan’s.

She watched as Adora put on a show of removing the pins from her hair. Bree fixed a pleasant smile on her face. “You truly are lovely,” she said, “ And the royal family must have been so lucky to find someone as experienced as you to pass out as a special reward,”






An ache started to form deep in her stomach. The more the boy spoke, the more the ache grew.
You knew this would be bad. You know all the stories. You know. But knowing what had happened to others was far easier to deal with then facing the reality on her own. The fact that it was coming from such an innocent voice made it all the worst. Children are not a good liars and his voice carried such an air of certainty, that Xaelia didn’t question any of it.

The ‘smaller’ drakkan was soon forced to the side by two hulking figures. They were Keregar reborn younger and more wild. Like new sparks trying to catch the world a blaze. She felt herself shrink as they spoke about her and her sister-bride as though they were objects. Xae tried to make her self small, shoulder hunching forward and her arms crossing over her chest. She couldn’t stop them from looking, but she didn’t have to make it easy for them to see.

One of the twin’s said something to the other. Lighting a fuse that exploded into a fight between the brothers. Showing just how quickly drakken comradery could turn to violence, even between siblings.

One pulled a knife, tossing it at the brother's face.
The other caught it in the cup.
The cup fell.
The liquid splashed across the floor.
And the cup rolled.
Right to Xaelia feet.
Knife still buried deep.

The little drakkan had made it very clear that this was the place that Gems were sent to die. Whether it was tonight, in a week or nine months after a particularly unlucky night.

Trusting that the two brothers were now far more interested in themselves than the two girls, Xaelia risked reaching for it. The cup was heavy and the knife looked far larger in her hand than it did in the twin's. The blade was buried deep in the cup and every second she spent working it free was another second that she could be found out. In her panic, her left thumb slipped across the blade as she finally yanked it free.

The wound wasn’t deep and the blade was so sharp that she’d hardly felt it, but already a small trail of scarlet was pooling from the wound.

She felt a certain amount of comfort with the hilt in her hand. But her plan had ended with getting the knife. It was too large to hide in her dress and the room was too sparsely furnished to be of any use in hiding the object.

She tried to imagine using it, slashing at the drakkan, cutting at them. She’d lose, that was for certain no matter what. Yet even in her fantasy, she wouldn’t see herself a using for more than a threat with no intention to follow up.

“Enough!” Time was up.

“What is going on?” For the moment, Keregar’s wrath seemed to be focused on his sons. The rage of a wild fire that sent the young pups scattering into the safety of the thunderstorm. Xae shoved her hand and knife behind her back, adding the other one to make her stance seem little more natural.

The little drakkan apeared again as soon as his older brothers vanished. Carrying small mugs that gave off a familiar scent. One that reminded her of the open air markets along the costal cities. Taking the cup would have meant moving one of her hands, which she couldn’t do, not now.

“I don’t like tea,” she said curtly, then after a moment added "Thank you though, . Her voice carrying the same tone as when she lecture the boy about how mothers worked.

“You’re both from Gemina right? How does it look there?”

She could at least humor the boy with that.

“It is the most beautiful and blessed place on earth,” she said, surprised to hear a true sound of longing in her voice. “ To the south, there are the desert cities that formed around oasis'. There the sand warms and the water cools and they always serve food so rich with spices every other meal before pales in comparison. To the East are the costal towns. The beaches are white sand and there are tall trees that you climb for fresh fruit all year round. The houses are made of white stone and the water is filled with flightless birds that will swim around your feet. The north has forests of evergreen trees and in the winter, the land is covered with a blanket of snow so white that is makes all clouds look grey. They service a warm drink, sweet as melted candy. The capital is made up of diamonds that glisten in the light like a morning star and the streets are lined with marble and gold. It is a true tragedy that there are poor souls who never get to experience its wonder,”

She tried to keep the words flowing, tried to keep talking, to erase all guilt that her face might have initially displayed. While her mind tried to create a plan that would see the knife in a safer place.

Kagan eyed Adorabella as she presented herself, unsuprised by her boldness but not displeased by it exactly either. The gown had done more to hide her figure than he'd realized, though Kagan was unlikely to complain that the hourglass figure fit her frame despite her size. "It does." He says simply, feeling the water level quake slightly as Adora enter his bath as he kept his eyes glued on her until her form disappeared beneath the water.

Kagan could feel a small ball of disappointment form in his gut as his view became obstructred, but it was quickly forgotten as he turned to check on Bree. She was such a quiet thing, and he'd hardly heard her as she stepped in to the bath. She was thinner than her sister, almost frail by comparison if you asked the Kinner. "Shyer to..." He notes to himself, as the redhead quickly curled in on herself as she settled into the tub, offering him his now refilled glass after a shiver or two. He takes it, moving it to the opposing hand as he leans back into the tub's wall. "Of course...Your sister bride is no worse off than yourself." He half growls as he sips slowly, not really having any true interest in the wine at the moment.

He remains quiet for a few moments, feeling the water heat further as the fire beneath them began to transfer what heat it could. Watching intently as Adora undid her hair with painstaking thoroughness and Bree slowly began to unfurl to the warmth of the bath. He'd be lying if the idea of pouncing on either of them hadn't crossed his mind atleast a few dozen times in the few short moments of silence, helped none by the occasional brush against his leg from one of the two.

The silence was broken first by Adora, and Kagan was about to answer when Bree shot forward with a comment. It caught him off guard, as up till then the redhead had been nothing if not demure, so the attack on Adora's virtue seemed to come out of the blue. Normally, he'd let something like this fly. It was always good to let ones servants establish their own pecking order, but Bree's comment was, as far as Kagan was concerned, more an insult to HIS property than anything else. A piece of his property which was a Royal gift no less.

He gently places a hand on Bree's shoulder, silently cutting off whatever reprisal Adora was preparing to fire back if any. "Play nice with your sister." He growls softly, not wanting to scare the Gem more than was needed to make his point. "She is as much mine as you are...And whatever experience she has over you will matter very little after tonight." He adds, leaning forward and kissing Bree.

It was clumsy and devoid of any real tenderness. But it was as more a reminder to the Gem of her place rather than anything else. And perhaps a small reward for her attempt at dominance, even if the execution annoyed him. He retracts, leaning back into his spot in the tub and removing his hand from Bree to take another sip of wine. "If you're so eager to prove you're the better." He says quietly to the redhead, feigning disinterest as he rolls the wine around in his cup lazily. "Then you will be first tonight."

His eyes on her and the confirmation of his enjoyment of her caused her to feel, if it were at all possible considering, more at ease. She practically glowed with the words of praise. Even if they were only two. She fiddled with her lilac hair, twirling it around her fingers as she watched Bree enter the bath. She was a light, delicate creature. Like some sort of elf or fairy from the stories. She had been a bit shocked earlier by the girl's vehemence with being touched. She supposed that things were quite scary for her right now. Adora considered that perhaps she should also be afraid. In so far, Kagan had proved himself to be one of the kinder of his race. Though, she had not been terrified of the prince either. Or the guards. It was only on the first day she had been afraid; when they had proven the truth to the Gem's horror stories. But since then they had simply acted as a more gruff people than she was generally used to. Perhaps she had just been lucky in this whole circumstance.

Adora's attention was brought back to reality when her sister spoke to her. Bree wore a smile but her mouth spit barbs. Adora's contented appearance changed to one of confusion. What had she done to Bree that caused her to act so negatively toward her? Was it the touch? Or was her presence offensive? Did she maybe wish for their husband's attentions to herself? It seemed unlikely but her sister bride was quite the mystery.

Opening her mouth, she was ready to respond - though not entirely sure how to do so. Bree's comment had been an attempt to be hurtful so Adora planned to accept the words just as they were. However, it seemed that her husband would act as her Knight in Shining Armor. The contented smile returned to her face as she grabbed her glass of wine and sipped from it. She watched with some amusement as Kagan kissed Bree. It was a sloppy kiss to say the very least. She would have to fix that. She hoped that Bree's first time would not be too painful, though she doubted it. The first time always hurt.... and with a Drakkan as... well built as Kagan, she was not too optimistic.

As he settled back into his spot she decided, perhaps it was time to show off a little of that experience that Bree teased her for. She glided across the tub, barely making a ripple. She pressed herself against Kagan's chest, warm fingers sliding up his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Her lips formed a pout as she spoke, "Well now, I'm feeling just a bit abandoned." The pout turned into a mischievous smile. The fingers of her right hand softly brushed their way up his jaw to tangle in his hair. Pulling him in, she pressed her lips firmly against his and nestled her body against him. Her kisses became more light, feathery until she slid her tongue lightly against his lips as if to ask entrance as a small moan escaped her. Instead of continuing, she feathered kisses down his neck before removing herself from him. "Tastes like wine," she purred, hands resting lightly against his chest.

"Nice to meet you, Varzar." Nadia said quietly as the child continued to talk. At first it seemed he was simply explaining something about how the household worked, but then he mentioned his 3 other mothers and... the first died in Childbirth, which was perhaps the most terrifying way to die in Nadia's opinion. The second died while hunting, and... Why was she on a hunt in the first place? Would Keregar force Xaelia and Nadia to go with him on hunts? Not that she'd say no to spending some time out in nature but, Drakka was much more hostile, full of dangerous creatures and Drakkan... and she'd never hunted anything before. She couldn't bear the thought of hurting another living thing, especially not by her own hand. Her greatest fear...

Perhaps she could ask not to ever go on a hunt. Would her husband allow that? Who is Alia? The thought crossed her mind, but before she could ask it out loud, Varzar was talking again. The third Gem... They hunted her down and killed her, didn't they? She tried to listen as the boy continued, but her mind kept pulling away to all the things she was suddenly terrified of happening. She wasn't planning on trying to run, but now that wasn't even an option. If she could manage it, she'd never go out there, so Keregar would never even think she was running... but then where would she go to be with nature? Certainly, Drakka's forests were nothing like her home, but she could still find one quiet spot... right? But if she doesn't want to get hurt or hunted, she'd be confined to the house.

I'm not going to make it a week...

Her attention was pulled back to reality as two more Drakken appeared, still young-seeming but more like teenagers than the child-like Varzar. She noticed Varzar disappear as the two nearly identical boys began eyeing her and Xaelia, and while they talked amoungst themselves she wondered briefly what life must be like for the children of Drakka. Varzar seemed as innocent as any child in the way he spoke, even if the things he said were of such a horrible nature- it was just the way he saw it, an honest telling of a horrible story. These two on the other hand... They were like miniature Keregars. Although, the word miniature was completely wrong for describing how they actually were. As words turned to knives and fists and fire, Nadia decided the right word for them was Monstrous.

As the sounds of fighting continued Nadia looked over to Xaelia, a thought forming in her mind but dying on her lips as she was what her sister-bride was doing. She'd picked up the twins' knife and was pulling it out of the cup, or she was trying to, anyway. Nadia watched for a moment, awestruck at her bravery to even try such a thing. Certainly the boys were distracted but, they could turn their focus back to the two Gems any second now.

She had to try and help. Stepping back as if to avoid the twins while they raged out of control, Nadia moved herself between Xaelia and the rest of the room, blocking her sister-bride's actions from view. Just in time too, as Keregar choose that moment to barge in and break up the fight. Nadia could feel her heart pounding, much too quickly as she realized she wasn't breathing. The short moment it took Keregar to get the twins' attention flet like an eternity as he ordered the two outside with him. The sounds of fighting resumed, dulled by the thunder and the door between the chaos and the two girls now, and Nadia finally took a breath, trying to push some of the worry away. "That was too close." She whispered as she glanced at Xaelia again, seeing that the other girl had taken to holding the stolen blade behind her back for now.

Before she could say anything else, Varzar appeared again, apologizing for the twins' behavior. He had brought them two cups that smelled a lot like tea... and it was! Nadia quickly took the cup she was offered, and at Xaelia's comment, reached out to take her cup as well. "Well if you don't want it, I love tea." She smiled brightly, hoping that Varzar would only see the surface of the act the two were putting on. It didn't seem he would, as he quickly went on to ask about their homeland, an eager spark of curiosity in his eyes. Nadia sipped away most of one of her cups of tea while Xaelia started to answer him.

She mentioned the different regions and little bits and pieces about each place, but as Nadia noticed, nothing about her own home. Nadia laughed a little as Xaelia started to trail off, running out of things to say. It was a musical sound, easily used to grab attention as Nadia began to pick up the conversation. "You sound a little bit like a travel brochure when you say it all like that." She started with a grin, reminding herself that she was putting on an act. "There's so much more to Gemmenia than deserts and beaches, snow and diamonds. It's..." She looked to Varzar, her gaze meeting his as she hoped he was still interested in what they were saying as she searched for the right words. "It's..."

"It's the forest I grew up in, The town nearby, the Volcanoes, the rivers, the sky..." She began to walk away from Xaelia, moving over the debris towards the other side of the room, hopefully pulling Varzar's attention with her as she continued.

(TL;DR: Some time passes as Nadia lists things she loves about Gemmenia, mostly her hometown, and unintentionally stabs herself in the feels while trying to entertain Varzar long enough for Xaelia to maybe do something about the knife...)


"It's home." She finished, tears finally starting to fall down her face as the memories overwhelmed her. She wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, choking down sobs as she tried to compose herself. "I-I'm sorry, I di-didn't mean to start crying..." She trailed off, covering her face with the sleeve of her dress as the tears continued. She'd be fine in a minute, if she could just get her mind off of the past already...

Gwillim was momentarily surprised by the semi-conscious clinging of Hestia... Alfhi was the only other creature to cling to him, and she did it rarely. Maybe this gem wasn't a complete waste then... Leaving his bride in the tender-ish cares of his wife, Gwillim went hunting.

He found many drukken drakkan but none had the prizes he wanted. He stalked along the dimly lit roads, using the shadows instinctively as he sought to find a trace of his prey. There were many new gems in the capitol, and many fights to claim them. Gwillim found one such fight already underway. Two lords aspiring to have another gem apiece fought for the other's gem, while the gems cowered together against stone wall under a torch... With a smile, he fashion a simple shank blade, by freezing the mingled blood of the combatants. A single quick, calculated gesture later left both the young fools in shock as they stared at each other wondering how the other had managed to strike their throat. It was only as they began to collapse that either of them realized they weren't alone anymore. The shank, still dripping fresh blood, hovered before the two terrified gems, drawing their attention from their husbands corpses. A tall and imposing figure stepped forth, into the dim light of the torch.

“You both belong to me now, unless you're keen to join your late husbands...”

They were not. They stood and followed the man, when he beckoned to them. He lead them to a small set of rooms occasionally used for ... unpleasant conversations, by his family. It was well guarded, especially tonight. He locked the two girls in a cell, and made it clear to the guards he would be bringing more. Perhaps enough for them all to have some fun, if they did their jobs properly. Thus motivating them to stay alert, for a time, Gwillim left to find other rich squabbles. He found six more gems, and a few new cuts and abrasions, but nothing serious. With eight, well nine counting Hestia, gems in his possession he made good on his promise to the night guards, leaving four gems for their pleasure. He and some guards from the main compound that he had collected for this purpose, escorted the remaining four gems to the main compound. It was done quietly, but it did not go unnoticed. He only hoped the princes would be to busy to care...

---

Falling to the floor, she slammed into it. It knocked the wind from her for a moment but the tears still spilt freely down her face as she curled up, struggling for breath. After a moment or two, she was able to push herself up and she moved toward the door. Desperate hands fumbled against the knob. She couldn't breathe. She was going to be beaten for sure. She had to hurry. Finally, the door opened and she fumbled her way down the hall, attempting to be as quiet as possible. She felt light-headed as she held her breath to avoid any more sounds of tears. 'Please... Please don't let him know. I promise. I'll be good. Please, I'll be better. I won't do it again. Just, please. Please!' her mind screamed as she used the wall to support herself while she approached a staircase.

A strong hand, suddenly clasped Hestia's free hand, and yanked backwards in an attempt to spin her around before she got to the stairs. A child's voice hissed at her from the shadows, as the nearest torch was mounted behind Alfhildr from Hestia's vantage point. "Where are you going at this time of night? You'll get torn apart if you go out there tonight!" The child was a little under six feet tall already, but was thin and not as domineering as the adults. She wore a thin woolen shirt that fell to her knees at the hem and elbows at the sleeve, though her feet were bare and her hair a tangly mess. She was genuinely confused as to why Hestia wanted to run out into the crowded drakkan capitol at this time of night.

She felt the pressure on her wrist before the tug on her arm. It was strong and caused her to twirl around to face the person who accosted her. Hestia's reaction was to throw up her other arm to shield her face. She was going to get it. She got caught. This was the end. The voice which spoke to her was all wrong though. Slowly she lowered her arm and saw the tall Drakken girl looking confusedly down at her. She frowned, taking in her surroundings.

This was not Oldynn's home. It was much too grand. As she came to terms with where she was, she remembered being taken, the reaping, and remembered the armour. Oh no. Had she finished her job? Was she in trouble with her new spouses? She was shivering as she brought her attention back up to Alfhi. The girl was sleep swept. Her hair a lion's tangle and her clothes wrinkled from her bed.

"I'm so sorry... I wasn't going anywhere. No... I was just... I was looking for a glass of water," she said lamely. Hestia hoped the excuse would be believable. After all, how was she supposed to explain the breakdown? She hardly understood it herself. The ground she stood upon, metaphorically speaking, was like sand. It shifted and ate at her, pulling her down. She had no rock and no way to steady herself. It would take time to get used to her new home and new rules. It was not impossible but certainly difficult to teach an abused dog new tricks.

"Is this not Drakka? Since when was killing forbidden? And anyways, they did technically fall on my spear. You are welcome to try it sometime."

Sharp eyes pierced the stranger, taking in the scene before her carefully. The armed men following the stranger didn’t seem particularly hostile despite the string of bodies left in their wake, their demeanor mischievous but relaxed overall. After the mishap in the arena Evienne wasn’t all too trusting of a force knocking down her front door, however, the man didn’t appear to have much motive outside of perhaps coveting someone’s hard earned bride. She paused a moment longer before relaxing her stance, an amused expression taking over her face while he continued speaking.

She watched him curiously as he spouted something about first providing a name when asking for another’s, maintaining her poise until he had finally given his up. Her name was not his only goal it seemed, as the now named Rynek scanned the room for a prize of his own. While he spun around, pointing fingers and eyeing up girls, Evienne returned her gaze back to the men standing behind him.

“At least my hires know better than to bet against their employer. Can’t blame you though, it’s a smart move to bet on a clear victor, wouldn’t you say Lord Darion? Oh, but you’re not a quite a lord are you? See, I might not be a queen but I am still royalty and I know quite a many families, the Darion line being among them. Too old to be greenhorn from the looks of you, but that begs the question as to where you’ve been hiding all this time. Be you a liar? Or a bastard?” Evienne exhaled slowly, eyes following Rynek’s directed challenge.

“You waltzed in here spilling the blood of our guards, demanding that the royals follow your rules of conduct, and pick out the grumpiest man at the party to pick a fight with. Dear Rynek, your spear interests me none, but I think you’ve amused me enough to earn you a few names. I am princess Evienne, daughter to the High Prince Gaelnesh, granddaughter to the first King of Drakka. And that,”” She paused a moment, gesturing somewhat theatrically with her arm towards the taller fellow.

“Is a rare face to see at any gathering. Allow me to introduce you to Azilon Dantanath and his two brides, well earned I can assure you.” Smiling to herself, Evienne took a few steps backward, now clearly addressing the rest of the room.

“By the glory of the King, I now declare this year’s Reaping a success. I will oversee the validity of this challenge so for those of you who have other matters to tend to, you are free to go.”

Azilon grimaced, not at all enthused about the situation. Of all the women the man could have pointed out, the Rynek fellow had to settle for his. He hadn’t been particularly excited about having the women all but forced down his throat, but now he was being forced to defend them. The thought crossed his mind of perhaps conceding one to the warrior as a sign of good faith, perhaps keeping the quiet one for himself and handing over Rya to do to him as she pleased. Somehow the idea didn’t sit all that well, coming to the conclusion that at least Rya was somewhat self-sufficient. He would have little need to care for her once home, the newcomer Lienna was an unknown for the time being.

He ventured a quick glance behind him only to be met with the faces of fellow Drakkan, their brides held close to ensure their safety. His own had appeared to have stumbled backward into the crowd, a small glint of light catching his eye as they moved quickly away. His eyes tracked their movement until they reached a familiar face, his sister who locked eyes with him menacingly. Azilon had been challenged for brides that were now under her supervision, not to mention called out by a warrior somewhere out in the crowd.

Sighing heavily, Azilon stepped forward with an apparent scowl on his face. As he did so, the rest of the room took an additional step back to give the two warriors some room. He could feel more than a few attendees tense around him, ready to react to whatever might stumble their way.

“What a shameful display. To accept your challenge is not but to spare you the embarrassment of charity. The brides don’t mean all that much to me but at least I’ve earned mine, you on the other have made such little an impression that you are forced to grovel at the feet of real victors for their spoils. You prove nothing in challenging me for mine so why don’t you run along and go polish that spear of yours elsewhere.” Azilon’s distaste for both the man and the situation was quite clear, his expression hard and words sharper than usual.

The warrior stood his ground, staring down the man that dared challenge him for his own property. Wanted or not, the girls belonged to him and he would be damned if some nobody swooped in and waltzed off with his new pets.



Morganna hadn’t strayed too far from where her brother stood before she was stopped by, what could only be described as, a massive force. The left side of her body collided with an object much larger than herself causing her balance to be knocked off. Should she the space it would have been no difficult task for her to catch herself and regain composure, but it seemed the massive Drakkan responsible for her tumble had other ideas. Just as quickly as she had been knocked off balance was she returned to an upright position, her attention no doubt the real object behind the maneuver.

As the man spoke, she found herself concealing a smile of amusement mixed with curiosity. Reading people was something she was trained to be good at, quickly assessing situations and reacting accordingly was a necessary part of being an assassin type such as herself. She was quick to determine that man before her was not a threat, or at least not a major one, and had either honestly not been paying attention or clever enough to plan to grab hers. Either way, he had it now. Relaxing her tensed stance, Morganna bowed her head slightly in greeting to the man.

“No pardons necessary, after all, it was but an accident was it not? I’m happy to hear that I was able to help brighten the place up for you, though I wouldn’t count the sniveling weaklings out just yet. With enough skill I’m sure you could train one up to be a cheap but effective alternative… Temporarily at least, they have such short expiration dates.” Morganna glanced over her shoulder at a nearby Drakkan’s whimpering bride with an expression that was difficult to discern. Be it pity or distaste, it was difficult to tell exactly what went through the young woman’s mind.

“Consider my presence your prize for making your way into a place like this uninvited. A valuable skill indeed, if you don’t mind my saying so. I find too many men around here pride themselves on a flashy entrance, spouting some nonsense about striking fear into the hearts of their foes. If you ask me, the real fun comes with a stealthier approach. Kill one or two and leave the rest to wonder who it was and who might be next. No greater pleasure than to watch a grown man squirm.” She mused before some kind of commotion stole both of their attentions. Gesturing to the entrance of a silver-haired male as if it proved the point she was making, she sat back and laughed subtly along with the stranger’s remarks.

There was something that troubled her about the room’s newest arrival, however, a quick glance shared with her father from across the room as the man spoke his name. Darion. Rynek Darion. Many were well aware of the Darion name, but she had never heard of a man such as he. She was not particularly a fan of not having information but figured now would be good a time as ever to learn. Nodding her head absently in response to her new companion’s words, her expression became neutral with concentration.

“Intriguing to say the least.” She said softly, tensing as Rynek singled one of her brother’s brides out as his desired prize. Knowing her brother and what it would mean to the family for him to allow such prizes to be taken without a fight, she would not have been surprised if he handed both of them over willingly. It seemed such an opportunity was taken from him as a small shuffling movement off to the side caught her attention.

Standing before her were the brides in question, the one acquired first seeming to have pulled the newer one away from harm’s way. Her brother had no choice now. Looking up, she locked eyes with her brother who appeared less than pleased about the situation. A quick tilt of her chin ordered him to get his head in the game, a shift in his demeanor obvious to those who knew him but less so to strangers. If she was going to be honest, she was surprised he spoke. Often times his duels were silent, at least from his side. Rynek’s appearance forced a situation Azilon was far from pleased with, a dangerous place to stand if history was any indicator.

Turning her attention back down to the girls, Morganna placed her index finger beneath Rya’s chin to tilt her face upward. Forcing the Gem’s gaze, the female drakkan leaned in closely to the girl with a sly, almost triumphant, smile.

“Don’t you worry little birdies, I’ll keep you nice and safe. But you’ll have to do something for me in exchange, otherwise I might just forget who it is that owns you. I’m sure there are plenty of hungry men here dying for your attention. So what will it be? I would decide quickly, fights such as these don’t tend to last all that long.”

Kuki's remark had earned her a smirk from Vannoth, which she hoped was a good thing. She wasn't good at reading people. Well, he seems nice. I might actually learn to like him someday.

As they walked, Kuki wanted to make more conversation, but she was at a loss for things to say. She was extremely awkward when it came to anything social. She didn't talk to many people. She racked her brain for things to say but whatever she thought of to start a conversation was either irrelevant or sounded dumb or weird. She looked around at her surroundings to see if that could help her think of something to say, but she couldn't think of anything. So she just said the first thing that came to mind, "So, uh, what do you do in your free time?" After she said that she immediately cringed and hit herself in the arm. Great going, Kuki. Seriously, could you be any MORE awkward? Kuki tried not to show that she regretted what she had said and waited for a response.

Gazing down at the metalwork that bound her and her sister-bride, Sorrin’s face clearly displayed her distress. She fidgeted with the shackles on her wrists with the feeble hope that they would either loosen or fall off completely. Obviously, neither were to be the case. While the man circled them once again, he took to answering their question of his title with what sounded more like a figure of myth than a proper name. Regardless, Sorrin would try to remember it to the best of her abilities. He was, after all, not a myth but a man… A very real man at that, standing before her and Arden with the pair tethered to him in chains.

It didn’t take much longer for the Grave Warden’s checks to be complete, his satisfaction marked by the sudden tugging on her wrists. Stumbling forward in surprise she scampered after the man, the sound of the rustling chains unnerving her as they moved along. Much to the youth’s dismay, the rain had yet to let up, plummeting the temperatures far below anything she was used to back home. She ended up thinking to herself that it wasn’t as bad as the keep they had been staying in previously, but it still was not ideal.

The group moved from shadow to shadow, the man leading them wishing to remain hidden for whatever reason. Sorrin didn’t mind this so much, as most of the shadows were created by awnings and coverings that shielded them from the falling rain. By the time they reached the walls that signaled the edge of the city, Sorrin had already began to feel rather damp and a chill had already started in. The young girl shivered as they were dragged from their position out into the open, continuing to march on into the desert despite the falling rain. At this point Sorrin’s breath escaped her in small tufts of vapor, vanishing as quickly as they appeared before her.

Without any obstacles in his way, and clearly a destination he wanted to reach quickly, the girl’s keeper found no reason to lessen his pace. Both girls were quite small in comparison to the man, their shorter legs working overtime just to keep up. Glancing over out of the corner of her eye, Sorrin noted that Arden was having difficulties keeping up with the pace set, the chains helping none in her case. Sorrin, on the other hand, had all but broken out into a run and still found herself struggling to keep upright. If they continued on in that manner for much longer, Sorrin was certain she was going to find herself being dragged after the ‘Grave Warden’.

Coming to a swift halt, Sorrin barely recovered herself in enough time to avoid running head first into the back of the stationary man. The rain continued pouring down and by this point her teeth were chattering, the girl almost wishing that they had kept moving if only to warm her frozen body slightly. Producing a bell from somewhere on his person, Sorrin moved to cover her ears, though the task was only half accomplished due to the restraints. The sound sent an unearthly chime down her spine separate from the weather, a cold pit of fear settling in her stomach. From the darkness came a carriage unlike any she had ever seen, a sight that nearly made Sorrin shriek.

Tethered to the back was what she assumed to be a body, difficult to tell considering the cloth wrapped around it, however she couldn’t imagine anything else with what she had learned of Drakkan-kind. Small creatures hobbled their way around the carriage, calling out to the man they referred to as Master.

Grave Warden? Master? These aren’t proper names at all! It’s worse than the nameless ‘High Prince’. Don’t Drakken get names? She thought to herself, shifting from foot to foot in order to keep moving.

Before long they were allowed onto the carriage and out of the rain, her drenched clothing helping her condition none but at least it was covered. She did her best to ignore the cloth-wrapped object as she climbed inside after her new husband, forced to take a seat opposite him. At least she was allowed to by Arden, though with them being chained the way they were she wondered why she assumed it would have been any other way.

Upon the windows being boarded up, Sorrin tensed, a feeling of being trapped beginning to set in. Her heart began racing, her chest already on fire from the half-sprint it took her to reach the destination. Her shaking hands were camouflaged by the constant shivering, her arms covered with goosebumps as her hair dripped icy water down her back.

She barely heard a word as the man spoke, certain that it was threats or rules of some kind that they would have to follow now that they were under his care. Sorrin had already forgotten the man’s full title, there was no way she would remember a list of rules. Instead she focused on her breathing, finding a center to keep her from falling into panic. Usually she would hum a little tune, but with the scary man talking, she didn’t think it a good time less she wanted to be beaten for not taking things seriously.

It seemed that Arden did not share those fears, however, her voice briefly breaking through Sorrin’s clouded consciousness. She sounded so bold, so fearless, so… suicidal. Arden spoke back to the Warden in a similar fashion that he spoken to them. Going so far as to even throw back his own phrases, she wondered how such a girl had survived this long. Listening to her sister-bride challenge the man struck a chord, her panic rising over the edge in the fear that Arden would be punished for speaking out so disrespectfully.

“EXCUSE ME SIR?!” She blurted out, much louder than she had intended. Her eyes shot open wide, fear filling them completely. Small droplets of water formed at the outer corners of her eyes, rolling down her face as she took in the terrifying sight of the man before her.

Sorrin wasn’t entirely sure why she spoke out as she really had nothing to say. She wasn’t like Arden, she couldn’t throw demands around like she had a say in any of this. Just the act of blurting out the first line was enough to nearly stop her already pittering heart. Falling further into panic she looked around confused, wondering what to do next. Returning to her usual, sheepish expression, Sorrin played with her hands in her lap and refused to make eye contact with anyone as she finally spoke back up.

“Um… Well, I-um… I was wondering…” She stammered, swallowing the lump in her throat and clenching her eyes.

“I was wondering what your real name was!” Sorrin finally blurted out, glancing upward fearfully.

“Well, what I mean… I uuuh…. I mean, Grave Warden isn’t really, well you see… It’s not a proper name by anyone’s standards. Clearly it’s a title, a very cool title to be sure, but it’s just a title. Like a stage name that actors use, it’s not real. You must have a real name, everyone does, so I was wondering if you would tell us what it is because Warden something or other of Land of Kor is just really long and I’m never going to remember it and calling you just Warden is… Well it’s boring. So umm, well, will you tell us?” Somehow the entirety of what Sorrin spoke was said in a single breath, the girl not stopping until she reached the end despite her hesitations and panicked babbling. She settled back down in her seat, her shaking beginning to calm some now that she had found something other than the enclosed box she was sitting in.

“Please?” She followed up, after all, she was not raised without her manners.

The souring in his stomach grew the more the situation unfolded, even more so when the princess announced that everyone could leave. Höd did not picture the return of his name to Železna Kri to be shadowed by a reckless feminine Drakkan breaking into the Ceremony and demanding a bride who belonged to someone else. Despite the frustration he was feeling, he couldn’t but help feel a sense of respect for the white haired boy; his actions proved true to that of Drakkan behaviour and for that, Höd had to applaud him. Regardless, the kid had stolen his thunder, and he wanted it back.

The Berserker’s purple eyes scanned the room, just as a lion did while hiding in the brush and deciding their target. He stopped on a rather unfortunate looking… thing. He was puny and decorated with some kind of blue gemstones. Was he even a Drakkan? The scowl that coloured Höd’s face twisted into a cynical smile as a blood lust began to seduce him. He would demand the room’s attention, and he knew just exactly how to get it. Kill someone.

Höd turned to Morganna,ignoring the petrified Brides asking for her help; it was not his business. He placed a heavy hand on his chest and bowed his head slightly toward her. ”Pardon me, miss. I hate to cut our conversation short, but there is something I need to take care of. Maybe we can continue this later, if I am so lucky. And I do apologize, for what comes next… but I’m sure you’ll understand."

Höd’s heavy steps started toward the puny Drakkan he singled out as he swiftly made his way through the crowd toward him, his large shoulders pushing into people as he passed them. It wasn’t long before he reached his target. The pretty looking Drakkan turned to face him and his mouth opened to spit a cocky response ”What do you want?” A grave mistake.

Höd’s hands shot out, wrapping themselves around Zevi’s head and almost completely encapsulating it. The ferocity in Höd’s eyes intensified as he lifted the Drakkan from the ground, leaving his feet to dangle above the stone floor with no hope of ever returning. Höd’s vicious grin resurfaced from earlier when he was tempted to punish the defiant Brides, although this grin had another layer of malice to it. He was going to quench his thirst for blood; a satisfaction he had been waiting for all night. Höd’s grip on the Drakkan’s skull began to compress, his fingers constricting against the flesh and bone. Zevi squirmed as much as he could in Höd’s grasp, his feet wildly kicking, desperate to find their footing. As Zevi thrashed, Höd’s grip tightened.

”Look at you, weak. Unable to do a thing. Useless. Pathetic. You meant nothing… and now, you will die."

Bone began to concave. Skin began to tear. Cracking began to sound. Within seconds, Höd’s hands were painted red and a limp body fell to the floor, head caved in and face unrecognizable. Höd’s arms dropped to his side, blood rolling off his hands and dripping onto the floor. His eyes filled with pleasure as he watched a pool of scarlet red begin to take shape underneath the Drakkan’s broken head. He lavished in the moment, ignoring the sounds of muffled screams and astonished gasps around him. A heavy breath filled Höd’s chest, escaping his lips in a sigh of relief, temporarily relinquishing his need to kill. Satisfied with a job well done, his eyes darted toward the little Gem bride who belonged to the now mangled body on the floor.

”Don’t be scared, kitten.” He said, his voice low for only her to hear.
Höd quickly turned toward her, his blood soaked hand latching onto her wrist and pulling her closer to him without any regard to if he was hurting her or not. ”I don’t even want you. I have no use for you… unless”

His eyes dragged across her body from head to toe, toe to head. His imagination beginning to run wild with just what he could do to her and how. Höd’s body ached for hers, or rather, it ached for the pleasure that it could bring. He always lusted for another after taking a life. Höd’s free hand ran the course of her side, trailing up and overtop her breast and further reaching to her neck; a streak of blood shadowing where his hand once was. His fingers twisted into the back of her hair at the nape of her neck, his hand quickly clenching a fistful of it as he pulled her head backward to look up at him. He looked down at her, studying her as his mouth began to water. Any other day he would’ve taken her, but his need for lust would have to wait.

”You’re lucky that I have other business to attend to. A shame really, I would have thoroughly enjoyed enjoying you.”

Höd released Aryll’s wrist, his hand still firmly clenching a fistful of her hair. He yanked the girl by her hair, throwing her to the ground away from him and toward the group of Drakkan who had backed away. ”She’s all yours, boys.."

Höd’s attention moved toward the Royal members of the room. A villainous smile appeared on his face as he took a few steps toward them, stepping over the still body on the floor. He stood on the other side of the body, moved his arm across his body and hinged at the hips in a small bow. ”My apologies for my rude behaviour.”

Höd returned to an upright position, relaxed as he stood there and clear that he was not in the least bit worried about the guards who were readying to strike at a moment's notice. ”I should introduce myself before I go slaughtering your guests, but you see… When a Drakkan such as he exists, I simply cannot help myself. I suppose thanks are in order, you know, for me helping you with your little problem here.” Höd notioned to the body on the floor by kicking it lightly.

”I could help you with the other problem in this room if you would like”He continued, now motioning at the disturbance at the door. ”But it seems like he is being taken care of already.”

Höd shrugged lightly, almost with a faint hint of disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to collect more lives. ”Well then, let's get on with it, shall we?” My name is Höd, Höd Ultair. I am sure the name means something to most of you. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble here, but the pretty boy by the door stole the show and I had no choice but to outshine him. Friendly competition, you know.”

”I came here today to say hello and to tell you that the Ultair name has returned. And now that I have, I must be leaving. But don’t you worry, I’ll be around.”

Höd turned and took his leave. As he crossed the room in his confident stride, his eyes fell on the beauty he was speaking to before. She had surprised him, pleasantly so. He playfully grinned at her before exiting the ceremony hall, thinking about how interesting it would be to run into her again.

Vannoth wasn't too much of a talker, he never was. In hindsight, he will likely never be. However the question and the willingness to talk to him was somewhat unpredictable and he was unguarded against it. "So, uh, what do you do in your free time?" it was an innocent question. "I'm a Trainer, I train other warriors, and the sons of other warlords. I don't get a lot of free time... But usually I relax and well..." he starts laughing "Actually I don't have a hobby now that I think about it!" as he truly enjoys his job he's never needed something to do other than relax at home, taunt one of his underlings or his recruits. His laugh was like the roar of fire, mixed with the boom of falling trees. "How about you. Is there something You do in your free time? I'm not exactly a poor man, so we can get you whatever you need, and as a warlord I have my own land" he thought If it's anything I've learned everyone has different needs, so, if you're going to last and thrive then I have to provide for it. He was used to this idea, 'change the plan to match the needs of the person', it's common sense. He doesn't notice it yet, but for once he didn't feel the pain of his shoulder and it's wound, and he was laughing. something he did not mean to do, he was so unprepared for such an innocent question, and it genuinely had him off guard.

Sera's response to her question shocked Zel into silence. Somewhere the in redhead's mind she'd thought she could, and should, build something of a fellowship with her fellow bride. She thought that if she was able to, it would be that much easier for them both. How else would they survive their time in Drakka, if not together? But it seemed things weren't fated to be. The way Sera had reacted, that cold and emotionless stare, the way she'd called Zel a stranger... That much was true, perhaps, but she had stated it so bluntly and with such a chill to her tone. It seemed she had no intentions of gaining any sort of familiarity. Was it something Zel had said or done? No, surely not, she'd barely spoken to Sera until now. Evidently, that was just how things were fated to be; a husband who she had no doubt would treat her little better than one of his hunting hounds, and a sister bride who wanted nothing to do with her.

"Oh. I see," she replied, her voice neutral. She didn't speak again for the rest of the bath, merely washing herself in silence and emerging from the water when she was finished. Unlike Sera, who left her gown on the floor in a heap, Zel folded hers carefully and tucked it beneath her arm after donning the tunic that had been provided. It was far from the most pleasant clothes she'd ever worn. The fabric was scratchy and coarse, and she had little doubt part of the intent was to make her want to remove it at some point, but she could tolerate a little roughness. As they walked down the hallway, Zel found herself actually admiring the trophies mounted on the wall. She was no stranger to beasts and hunting, but the hunting she'd grown up knowing was almost entirely for food and materials. Nearly all pieces of the animal were put to use in some fashion, which meant there was never really anything to be used a trophy. What she saw before her now couldn't be more different. Not only were the animals drastically more ferocious and nightmarish, but they were put proudly on display in the hall, as if the trophy was the primary concern of the hunt. It was a sign of hunting for sport, and though it was entirely alien to her, Zel couldn't help but be impressed by what she saw. It seemed her husband was not called Beastmaster for no reason.

And then they entered the bedroom. Their husband lay on the bed, dressed in black and assuming a... rather risque pose. The sight brought a flush to Zel's face, one which she hoped Ineraz wouldn't notice but was certain he would. He offered them a choice; sleep with him, sleep next to him, or sleep in the corner on the floor like an animal. Truth be told, none of them sounded well to Zeldria. She certainly had no desire to give herself to him, even though she was certain he would eventually take her by force, and if she slept next to him who knew where his hands would find their way to. But, if she chose the floor, not only would she be horribly uncomfortable and exposed to the chill of night, he could very well take it as a slant and react poorly towards her. Zel quietly turned over the choices in her mind, and shortly after Sera elected to take the floor Zel came to her own decision.

"As for me," she said a little uncertain, "I fear that between my... inexperience and weariness from travel I would not be able to... satisfy you, my lord. But, if it will do, I'll take my place in the bed beside you."

And so she did, wondering all the while as she tried to sleep how she would make it through. Her husband seemed cordial enough, but he was still a Drakken, and the one remotely familiar face in the house had made it clear she wished nothing between them. Zel was alone in spirit, and she would have to adapt to that as fast as she could.






Well, at least it had been promising for a moment.

Just as quickly as the developments at the Reaping Feast had begun to heat up, they cooled that much faster as the Princess smoothed things over and declared the event ended. However, she would also be overseeing the validation of the challenge, and the Drakken whose bride Rynek had lusted after begrudgingly stepped forward to see to the matter. That, at least, was pleasing to Wilhelm. Challenges were not a thing to be brushed aside in favor of pomp and circumstances, they were to be met with full force that a Drakken might prove himself greater than the one who challenged him. It seemed the Princess understood that.

He looked down to see Amalia clutching his side, having been frightened by one of the revelers deeper in his cups than most and sought refuge with him. This was a good sign, as it meant she was already learning to anchor herself to him. An expectant look from Wilhelm sent the drunkard returning to his business, and he turned his attention back to his brides. Onyx had pulled Amalia away from him and seemed to whispering to her in an embrace. The librarian's daughter was not one to be easily frightened, and seemed to be taking the charge of comforting her sister bride. That would eventually need to be taken care of, but for now the showing was a sign of gumption, as well as the seed of solidarity between the two. Both of these items were desirable to Wilhelm, who preferred his brides be well-adjusted and functional members of his household rather than frightened little vermin that were good for nothing but birth and death, so he would permit such things. For the time being.

However, it was as the Princess had said; he had other matters to attend to that evening. So, as his brides separated from each other, Wilhelm slid between them and draped an arm around each, his hands gripping them firmly by the upper arms. "Let us go," he said, and began to move toward the door with his prizes in tow. The rain had lightened slightly by the time they exited, which meant they would not be as drenched as others as they traversed the city streets. Wilhelm directed them through several winding turns along the cobblestones until they arrived at a moderately sized single story cottage, the door of which was covered by a black flag emblazoned with a single sword surrounded by jagged stone- Wilhelm's crest. Standing just outside of it was another Drakken garbed in dark clothes and a travel cloak. As Wilhelm approached, he nodded to the man and placed his hand on Amalia's upper back, pushing her forward while he and Onyx stopped in their tracks. The Drakken stepped forward, pulling out several lengths of rope to drape over his shoulder and a knife from his belt.

Rather than harm the Gem, however, he took the lengths of rope in turn and stretched them across Amalia's body in various ways. First from her head to the earth, then across her shoulders, down the length of her arms and legs, and finally wrapping a rope around her chest, then her waist, then her hips, and lastly around her neck. Each time he did so he would pinch the rope where it had ran the length of her or met itself and slice it with the knife, then placed the newly shortened rope in a sack. The rope that had wrapped around her neck, however, was given special care and placed in a satchel at his belt. He nodded to Wilhelm, and the warlord obliged by bringing Onyx forward for the same treatment. Her ropes were placed in different bags, and when it was finished he grabbed the two sacks, nodded once more to Wilhelm, and began quickly walking down the road toward the gates.

"A servant," he told his brides nonchalantly, "He will ride ahead of us to Nachtstone and see that preparations for our arrival are made. Now, inside."

The interior of the cottage was spacious, but not particularly adorned or decorated. Another servant dressed all in black waited inside, and Wilhelm swiftly ordered him to draw a bath for his brides. "You are free to take your time. I do not have additional clothing for you here, so I suggest you take care of the gowns you were given. I will be in the only bed when you are done. We will be rising early so we might reach my castle in a timely manner, so ensure that you are well-rested for travel."

"One more thing, before we retire. If you are harboring thoughts of escape, you will find leaving this house simple enough. However, if you do so, you will be alone in the middle of all Drakka. And while I mean to keep you both in good condition, I cannot say what will happen to you should you be found by less... considerate Drakken." He let the word "considerate" hang in the air for a moment, letting the reputation of his people and their dread tendencies fill it with venom while he himself gave it none.

"You may proceed."