"Don't 'thine' my lord, thou arrogant child. We have little to work together on, my job is to ensure nobody kills you. More than that I cannot say." Vain grunted through visor, spinning in place and pushing open the door and storming down the hall ways.
"Vain, calm yourself. Nevermind him, My Lady, he will warm to you. An encounter with the Gemminite royalty was unexpected and has shaken him. Now come my ladies, stay close. Fouler things than Vain's temper lurk in the Wroth." Gaikus said with a grin, placing hid helmet over his head and gesturing for the two girls to follow after.
***
Zakroti wrapped his cloak around himself and mounted his horse. He glanced back to the Shadow Wroth, admiring it. He has once heard that it would take a army beyond measure to seize it and having seen it in person he must concur. The defenders options were many and the attackers few and as it was built across the mountain pass that between Gemminia and Drakka, one had to go through it no matter what. There was no way around it unless you circumvented the entire spine.
He half hoped he would return to this place one day, if only to admire it's design and the strange blend of the architectural styles of Drakka and Gemminia.
They would have to ride a short distance to meet with Lady Beneni and if she was running late they would have to wait a while, though she was probably already there and waiting. He was confident that the weather would still hold until they were clear of the mountains either way; If it didnt and there was a blizzard- well, being late for a meeting would be the least of his worries. But first, there was a small matter to attend to- he whistled for the messenger.
"Oeiz Muth?(My Duke?)" The messenger asked as he rode up beside Zakroti. The young duke outstretched his arm to offer the rider the letters and spoke in whispers.
"These are for my 'friends'. You know what to do." Zakroti whispered. The messenger nodded in affirmation and slid the letters into his pouch before turning his horse and galloping away towards the mountain pass.
Zakroti turned back towards the Wroth and watched Vain approach with the two Gems in tow. He called out to them and turned his horse, spurring it on. Vain and Gaikus mounted their own horses.
"Can the pair of you ride?" He asked the two Gems as he rode up beside them. Ayltam, Julius and Aurien rode over to join the group and Zakroti cast a glance to his niece and ward. She looked visibly shaken but steadfast- Zakroti wondered whether it would not have been better to send her with Nastaki or Qeynate.
To say she was surprised at the warlord's words would be an understatement. He had tested her? So he hadn't really believed the words he spoke about hatred? For an odd reason that both comforted and confused her. All Drakkens were hateful and cruel. It was how they were raised. It was in their genes. They could not help it.
And yet this one Drakken had tested her before choosing. He noticed she was cold and provided for her, covering her with a blanket. And he... kissed her forehead. Her fingers wandered up of their own accord, lightly touching the spot where she could still feel his lips. Her skin tingled where they had touched. The blanket was very warm, made from fine wool. Her own body heat retained in the fibers to warm her. She actually felt cosy and comfortable. His final words, that she was not unwanted, made her heart tremble in her chest. Her cheeks turned a rosy color and not from the warmth of the blanket. Amalia turned her face away in an attempt to hide her blush. It was the first time someone had said something like that to her.
The cough of her sister-bride was like a blast of cold to the warm moment they were sharing and Amalia immediately felt the tingle leave her body. She may have been wanted by the lord, but she was most certainly unwanted by the other occupant of the carriage. Amalia didn't know why the girl seemed to dislike her so much. She was the beloved one, as evidenced by the way Cuwarr wrapped his arms around her the moment he was beside her. She had his open affection and love, why be so petty and heartless as to begrudge Amalia a little bit of compassion and care?
Her eyes met his across the carriage and the feeling of butterflies in her stomach returned. She noticed for the first time that their eyes were very similiar. Both differing shades of blue and both holding a certain... sadness within them. What could he have to be sad about, she wondered...
When she spotted the ire in Kalani's gaze Amalia started and looked away. Life was going to be difficult wasn't it? How was she to cope with her sister-bride being angry at her for things she had no control over? He meant to have children with the both of them did he not? How would Kalani treat her after their nights together or any children they might have? Amalia could attempt to bare hosility towards herself, but not towards her children. They would have to talk, her and Kalani, once Cuwarr was not around. Hopefully they could reach some kind of agreement, or at the very least an understanding.
~~~~~~
It was hours later that Amalia finally spoke again. "Shall we be stopping for the night or is your home nearby milord?" she asked quietly and respectfully.
Had Azlion not acted so quickly in getting his ...cohort out, Rya might have argued more for time staying where the excitement was. But she got caught up in the rush of it all, barely managing to grab their food and her small trunk before being whisked off into the great unknown.
But as wonderful as exploring the unknown was, even the great unknown became dull when viewed from the inside of yet another stupid carriage. Rya hadn’t know what to expect when brought to the choosing, but she had hoped that after the two week long journey here, she would have been granted more than a single night of freedom before being forced back into the dreaded cage…..er carriage. This one was only slightly different from the one she had come in. And, not even a few hours into it, she was bored beyond belief.
There were only so many times that one could count the nails in the carriage, trace the patterns on the seat and try to take a nap. All of the above mentioned having been maxed out with in the first hour of the journey and now she was settling for bothering her traveling companion, by making faces at her while she looked away, only to create normal faces the second Aelia looked back.
Finally, even that grew dull and she decided to start some thoughtful conversation. “What are you?” She asked, looking at her sister wife. “I want to say drakken, but you are about the most undrakken like drakken I’ve ever met. Yet, you don’t see Gems with horns...so….are you...a genetic mistake? Probably of Gem heritage, after all, don’t drakken like to eat their young who are too weak? But, I mean, I don’t know that for a fact, I should check,”
Taking her first breath since she started talking, Rya stuck her head out of the window and called out to her husband, riding his mound near the carriage. Which was her next task, after thoroughly questioning her sister wife, she was going to push harder for /her/ riding the horse and /him/ riding in the cage. “Fact or fiction Azilon, drakken eat their weak young?” She pause for an answer before firing back, “And when will it be my turn to ride? I hate it in here,” she barely gave him enough time to answer before pulling herself back in the carriage,
“Do you have any other abnormalities?” she asked, crawling over so that she and Aelia shared a seat. Like….a tail? Can I see it?”
Rya wants to both ride a horse and get to 'play doctor' with her sister wife
She blinked awake, a harsh bump in the road drawing her back to reality as she hesitantly peeked at the world around her before denoting her wakening. It was a strange little defence she had engineered over countless years spent in places she really shouldnt' have been in. Sometimes it was better to pretend you were asleep than pretend you weren't listening, after all.
The first thing that occured to her was the strange condition of her clothing. She couldn't quite remember where she got the riding trousers but given their size, she imagined it must have been from the moley man Azilon kept in his company. Whoever owned them didn't matter, however, because they were comfortable. She almost looked like one of them; the embroidered tunic, the dirty trousers and the confused look was a perfect emulation of your average Drakken warrior. Leaning forward, she took in the surrounding countryside. She never knew anything except the dull walls of the Citadel and the far-off visions of snowy peaks so despite its ugliness, the land was spectacular to the young princess. Was she still a princess? Was she ever a princess? The thought never really occurred to her despite spending most of her life in the role.
Whatever she was, Aeila was dreadfully stuck in a rickety carriage that perfectly transmitted every single bump in the road. Azilon had rushed them out quickly which she didn't understand but if the mood of the guards at the gates was anything to go off, he had probably made a wise decision. Was she wise though? She could have easily escaped and found Rynek but she didn't - she stayed exactly where she was and did exactly what she was told to do.
Her thought process was rather rudely broken by the incessant voice which had previously ignored her. She felt that privilege was gone with the wind now. “What are you? I want to say drakken, but you are about the most undrakken like drakken I’ve ever met. Yet, you don’t see Gems with horns...so….are you...a genetic mistake? Probably of Gem heritage, after all, don’t drakken like to eat their young who are too weak? But, I mean, I don’t know that for a fact, I should check,”
Aeila stared at her for a moment, confused then a little annoyed then just confused again. "Well I've scoured through the royal library and there has never been a case of a Gem born with Drakken features. There's been a few small stories of Drakken who appear like Gems but they usually died very quickly." She let out a shaky breath and ran a hand through the red tufts of her hair. Was it too much to ask just to sleep on the journey there or was she condemned to having to listen to the girl blabber all day? Nevertheless, Aeila continued. "I suppose my unique position allowed me to escape that fate but I am a Drakken. Just not a Drakken like him - I don't kill people." The point became a little jagged but she seemed fairly proud of it until Rya decided to relocate and inquire about a tail.
She supposed she would need to play along - otherwise it would just be mindnumbing with Rya bombarding her with questions. "I used to have a tail; all Drakken do but they cut it off and eat it to celebrate the baby's birth. Apart from that though? I have extendable fangs as well." She remained deadly serious. eyes set on the girl who was about the same size as her, surprisingly. This would be an interesting journey.
Miry blushed and mumbled thanks as she slipped into Anna's extra pair of boots. They were quite large for her, but at least they'd keep her feet warm. She followed after Gaikus closely, glancing back to the room behind her once more, as though trying to be certain that Aery wasn't going to spontaneously reappear in the bed.
Her teeth started chattering the moment they stepped out into the courtyard, though she clenched her jaw to muffle it. No sense letting the others know just how useless she was, not when they already thought her completely inept. She clutched the baskets containing the extra clothing and the animal companions tighter to her chest.
As Zakroti rode up beside them she flinched away from his horse. She couldn't help it, she'd never really been around horses. Her whole life she'd been primarily indoors, except when she'd had to go out in town to the markets, and even then she'd walked. Only the rich folk or the knights ever rode, and only ladies and sometimes their handmaidens ever got proper lessons.
And of course he asked if they could ride. Miry turned a shade of crimson to match her tunic and shook her head. "I n-never had a chance to l-learn, no..." she mumbled. Much to her embarrassment, her teeth were chattering too. Gods, he must think her a useless little fool. To try and make herself sound a bit less pathetic, she spoke with a forcedly joking tone. "But hey, at least I'm little enough that I can just get folded up and stuffed in a saddlebag, right?"
Sia smiled softly at her little bride. She really was adorable, still all sleepy even after getting ready. "Come, Sorrin. We must leave." she hesitated for a second, then settled her spare cloak on Sorrin's shoulders, making the small bride look rather like a puffball. But hopefully a warm puffball.
She took Sorrin's bags with one hand, and put her other arm around Sorrin's shoulders as she led the girl out of the keep, not wanting the male drakken to get any ideas. As they stepped out into the courtyard at the back of the keep, heading for the stables, Sia's other guards fell into step around them. She made eye contact with each of them, with the exception of Aldar, who pointedly looked away. Internally Sia sighed, she'd have to deal with Aldar later.
The guardswomen had saddled the horses already, and they, after securing the saddlebags, swiftly mounted up. Sia quickly followed suit, then reached down and took Sorrin's hand, boosting the girl up into the saddle in front of her.
"Alright, ladies, let's move out. We're meeting with Lord Zakroti past the break with the great road. But we're taking the lesser-known paths." She might be paranoid, but she didn't particularly feel like fighting with any of the more territorial male lords who might be leaving- or arriving for the second night of choosings.
Before they had departed, while Scoot was ushering the two "brides" into the carriage, Azilon inquired about the aura of unease settling upon the festive site. From what he had been able to gather, a dispute over brides had occurred between two well known Drakken and had resulted in the death of two Gem brides and several warriors. An unfortunate situation to be sure, but not one he was going to stick around for. After all, if both of the Gem lives lost belonged to one Drakken, the likelihood that they would go searching for replacements went up immensely. Had his fight against the prince of Drakka gone a little more favorably for him such a challenge might not have seemed so daunting. As much as he hated to admit it though, Azilon was quite realistic about his current situation. His injuries still ached him, even now as the small group made their way from the Keep.
A sudden burst of energy pulled Azilon from his thoughts, the man slowing his horse to ride beside the carriage curiously. Not at all surprising was the voice of Rya, chattering away about Aeila's lack of Drakken appearance. Chuckling silently to himself, he poised himself to push his steed along, only to flinch as his own name was called out the window. Eat our young? He couldn't help the slight confusion that twisted his features as he tried to figure out where such a nonsensical rumor had originated from. Some imagination. Azilon thought to himself as Rya took a moment to breathe before rocketing of yet another question for him. Exhaling slowly, the man wondered how he got himself into such a situation.
"In a manner of speaking I guess you could say that we do, but it is more of a metaphorical sense than a literal one." He responded honestly. Without a doubt there had been some Drakken somewhere who might have taken such a thought to heart but it didn't seem all that practical of thing to do, so he doubted there were very many who had even let it cross their minds. Shaking his head, Azilon chased the odd train of thought from his mind and turned to answer Rya's second question. However, before he had a chance to reject her request she had disappeared back inside to ridicule her travelling partner. Somewhere up ahead, Azilon could hear Scoot's exhausted sigh as the man realized his current job as carriage driver was going to be more lively than he would have preferred.
"You girls are going to be a handful, aren't you?" He growled, though the sound was more out of amusement than annoyance. "Now that I think about it, though... The little Sprite and I did get a chance to talk for a little while this morning, I guess it would only be fair to allow you the same courtesy. However, the only way you're going to get out of there is if you ride with me. So just how badly do you want out of there?" He smirked, a cunning glint flashing behind his eyes as he offered a hand out to the still moving carriage. A girl like her, he doubted would have any problems making the leap from moving carriage to moving horse, but could she push her own pride down enough to ride on the back of the same horse as him? He was quite curious to see how far he could push the little Gem, after all, Aeila couldn't be his only entertainment.
Sorrin's height shortened for a moment as her body adjusted to the extra weight that was Sia's cloak now resting on her shoulders. However, the cloak provided a lot more protection against the chill than her clothes alone could. Gratefully, Sorrin pulled the cloak tighter around herself as Sia led the way through the keep. The small Gem was confused for a moment as to why Sia would still have her guard up so high when it was so obvious that the Gem shuffling along beside her was a claimed bride, but then again if the previous night's events were any indicator, things could quickly change for the worse. It was times like these that Sorrin was even more grateful that Sia had picked her before any of the brutes could, had things gone differently she wasn't sure how long she could have lasted.
It took a little while to reach the stables from the room, mostly because Sorrin was so slow in comparison to the Drakken, however this meant that all the horses were ready by the time they got there so there was no point in time which Sorrin would be left unattended. Beaming, Sorrin carefully approached one of the horses offering her hand out gingerly. She had always admired horses and had even learned to ride a bit herself, though she hated to admit she wasn't very good at it yet. Making a mental note, Sorrin reminded herself to ask Sia later about perhaps teaching her to ride a little better.
Accepting Sia's hand, Sorrin climbed up into the saddle and settled in front of her new friend. She had no way of knowing how long the trip would be but rather than allowing the unknowns to daunt her she instead focused on all the new things she would learn along the way. It was a whole new world for her out there, and she was determined to learn as much about it as she possibly could. Closing her eyes for a brief moment, Sorrin offered up a prayer to the mother of gods that their journey would be a safe one before snapping them back open with a gleam of excitement.
If only they had come well trained, then perhaps none of this would have occurred. It was incredibly frustrating at the utter lack of professionalism that occurred during her selection. Clearly, her district got the untrained amateurs, for how else could they have passed up the village jewel in their crass assessment of the woman of the village?
And the trip that followed.
Disgraceful.
It was delay, after delay, after delay. By her calculations, the trip itself should have taken no more than four days, five if they ran into delays. But no, due to her escort utter…incompetence, the trip took nearly a week and a day.
First the wheel broke, then the horses escaped, mistake after mistake.
And, because of their mistakes, she was late.
What made the slowness of it slightly more enjoyable was that it gave Bree an opportunity She will give her captors a little credit. As foolish as it was to try and drive the winding roads to the castle in the bitch dark, they did try to make it on time. But as it was, the arrived well past midnight and after a few quick words, her captors took her to an unused room, and finally parted. She was less than sad to see them go.
Her orders were to sleep and someone would be around to get her again in the morning.
She woke with the dawn, not exactly rested, but rested enough. She spent the rest of the time in front of the mirror, painstaking curling her hair by repeatedly heating the coals inside a metal tube and wrapping each section around into perfect auburn spirals. It was mind numbing, unfortunately and gave her too much time to reflect on how poorly things were working out. Which would lead to her getting angry, which would cause the tube to get far to warm and burn her fingers.
It was perhaps….an hour or so pass noon by the time she was allowed out of her room and into the hall. Despite the unmistakable scent of blood in the air, the whole palace gave off a lazy vibe, the type of vibe that came with brunches and gabbing ladies.
Taking a deep breath Bree adjusted her body language. The last thing she wanted to come across as was afraid. From her understanding, the meekest brides tended to attract the predators. Like a fox to a rabbit. The ones who would select the flighty and nervous one in the hope that she would eventually run so that they could chase. She wouldn’t ever run and didn’t want a creature who would try various methods to encourage her flight.
Nor did she want to come out with an aura of confidence. That attracted the monsters. The ones who sought the gems who were made of steel and attempted to break them. It would do to avoid those like the plague. For obvious reasons. pulled open the door that lead to the much smaller hall than what she might have entered yesterday.
It took her a few moments to register the few males left in the room. Most of them were…for lack of a better phrase…beta scavengers at best. Well…that certainly wasn’t going to happen. They would be angry and always wanting to prove that they were the ones in charge. Not ideal in the least. There were a few weaker even than those, ones who would never have the political pull to get done what she would need them to do. She scanned the room a final time, her heart sinking at the pathetic prospects before her.
“You,” rang a deep voice from somewhere toward the group’s back, clearly directed at her. The Drakken at the front parted slightly to reveal the source as he stepped forward. He was tall, as most Drakken were, but he seemed to stand higher in posture than those around him on purpose, as though trying to distance himself from them. He had a layer of stubble across his face and long, thick, black hair atop his head. And his eyes- which had locked onto Bree’s- were a deep crimson. “You will do, as a start. Come here.”
It was about control here, although the booming voice that echoed the room was more than flinch worthy, she had practiced for this, and instead, counter to three in her head before acknowledging the sound and turned slowly to face the speaker. He looked very like a drakken should have looked. No noticeable injuries that would have weakened him. He wasn’t a runt, or...as far as she could tell, had anything wrong with him at all. Although she was sure that something must have been something, otherwise he wouldn’t have been here. With a fine scan, she plastered a friendlier neutral face, crafting just the right amount of fear in her eyes, a face she practiced a thousand times in the mirror. “If it pleases m’lord,” she said, bowing her head slightly, before closing the distance between them with even, purposeful strides. She stopped close enough to have followed order, but no so close that she would be unable to slip away should another prospect become more appealing. “Would it be too forward of me to ask sir’s name?” she said, keeping her head tilted forward in vague submission, but eyes glued to his.
“You will know my name,” he replied with ice in his breath, “But only after you have informed me of your own.” “It’s Bree, or Aubree if you would rather,” It took every ounce of practice to not start shaking. No amount of practice could ever have prepared her for this moment. She stood there a moment longer, not willing to ask her question twice, but choosing to stare expectantly at him instead. “Aubree…” he echoed as one of his hands rose and swept aside a lock of her reddish hair that had fallen in front of her face during her head bow, “A fine name. I am Dorian Fimbulvetr. Henceforth, you shall be one of my wives, and I shall have you address me as ‘Husband,’ ‘Sir,’ or ‘My lord.’ Is that clear?”
Aubree’s heart leapt into her throat as his heads brushed her hair away, he was close...way way too close right now. Her first instinct was to bolt, to pull away. But her logic overruled her before she did anything...stupid. She wasn’t getting a huge read on this man, nothing unexpected or ….anything! At most, she sensed her would be displeased with her actions, possible corporal punishment for her actions. It was still unclear if gruff and orderly was his default state or if he was setting parameters and expectations. ...as opposed to everything else I’ve called you so far… she thought, somewhat amused at his orders. ”Of course M’Lord,” She answered. “ Is there anything else I should know...sir? adding the last bit to show the slightly delay, trying to give the illusion that his orders meant something to her.
“That will do for now,” he said dismissively, “Come stand near me. Once I have finished making my… choices, we will depart, and I will tell you all that you will need to know. Now.” he finished imperiously.
“Of course M’lord,” She gave him another smile, falling in slightly behind him. That M’lord thing was becoming annoying and would be the first expectation to go.
Vain's scathing tone came as little surprise for Anna; having dealt with savage Drakken types before meant such dirisiveness deterred her little now. Though in contrast, his partner seemed more kindly, and she would gracefully follow him as he motioned for her and Miry to follow. Obediently, the Royal would smoothly stride along behind her two new guards, intending to be as small a burden as possible.
Once they entered the courtyard however, the Princess remained unflinching against the cold. However, the same fortune could not be said for Miry, whose chattering teeth could audibly be heard. For a brief moment, Anna watched the girl suffer with distaste, until she made a simple but benevolent decision.
Unraveling the luxurously warm fur coat from about her shoulders, Anna would deftly cast it over Miry's. Certainly it was a little long for the girl, but it would be a great deal warmer in the least. Quietly she would smile lightly to the Mory, bound tonspeak a few more reassuring words, only to finally have their Lord ride up to meet them, with a handful of horses in tow. Once he finally met with them, he asked of either of them could ride.
Naturally, Anna nodded to affirm such. "Of couree, M'lord." She stated first, walking over to the other available horses and carefully studying them. "As Miry can attest, I have spent countless hours sneaking off to the Royal Stables for the sake of learning Horse Husbandry. I can ride, very well at that."
Having chosen her beast, she dug one boot into a stirrup, and easily vaulted herself to sit comfortably upon the Horse. Riding easily as side saddle, Annaveya guided her mount to casually march up beside Zakroti. Reaching forward, she gently stroked the mane of her horse soothingly, before finally addressing Zakroti at long last.
"I am afraid that Miry has not been taught how to ride. I do recommend that she rides with you, M'lord." she stated smoothly in finality, checking over herself one last time to insure she was fully ready for the long road ahead.
Although Azilon’s voice was slightly muffled by the thin fabric that covered the window. Placed there to offer a bit of shade from the sun, rather than to do an overly great job of blocking out the elements. His voice drew her attention away from her sister bride, retracting her hand slightly. A look of confliction crossed her face as though she couldn’t make up her mind between which option was more tempting. Continuing to harass her slowly angering sister bride until the girl’s dress was removed and the tail could be seen or...escaping the torture chamber of boredom. After another moment of thought, the girl abandoned the other girl and climbed to the small window.
Coming to the window, she tooked the offered hand, but instead of letting him swing her back to the back of his horse, she scrambled, losing her footing for a second and making a mess of things, before finding herself sitting more or less...in his lap. "It'll be more comfortable for both of us if you scoot back I would think," she said lightly.
Azilon’s horse bucked and kicked a few paces as the small creature fumbled her way from the carriage. Surrounding the girl's feet with small whirlwinds to protect her from twisting her ankles, Azilon directed the current to push her weight back in the right direction. The elemental shove practically launched her much lighter than anticipated body toward the bemused Drakken who easily caught and steadied her on the horse in front of him.
"However did I get so lucky? A runt and a klutz... The dream team." He smirked, shifting in the saddle to make room for the new arrival. Even sitting on horseback, the difference in size was quite noticeable. Dropping the reins completely, Azilon linked his fingers together while placing his palms on the topside of Rya’s head. Leaning down slightly, he rested his chin on top of his hands just to add that extra touch of annoying to his choice in posture.
“So, little api (monkey)... were you taught how to ride back in your homeland?”
“I don’t know how much time you’ve spend with gem’s, but I am not really all the runty,” she said, only catching part of his comment, reaching forward she tangled her fingers in the main of the horse. It was much larger than anything she had back home. This creature was stronger, wilder and just...bigger than the brown spotted horses she was used to back home. Even then, they usually only had one horse to split between a family of five.
All the same, she wasn’t unfamiliar with the process. With a small smile she knew that Azlion couldn’t see, she untangled her hands from the horse’s mane and grabbed a hold of the reigns, with purposeful sloppy hands. Judging of the placement on his hands...on her head….he didn’t have a very good grip. ”Nope,” she said softly, before digging her heels, hard, into the stomach of the horse, sending it into a wild, sudden sprint.
As the horse suddenly jolted forward, Azilon felt his upper body bending backward in a way that would have flipped any normal rider right off the back. Fortunately for him, he wasn’t your average rider. Using the same trick that had carried Rya from carriage to saddle, Azilon used a small burst of air directed between his shoulder blades to right himself once again. Ashe sat back up, he wrapped his left arm around his riding partner’s waist while leaning his face in close beside hers. “A klutz and a trouble maker, perhaps I should permanently change your nickname to Api. I’ll let you in on a little bit of advice though. Until you wear my mark on your skin, wherever I go you must follow, so I suggest you think your moves through carefully.” His voice was cool and matter-of-factly, almost as if standing as an invitation to try and defy him. It only lasted a moment, however, as he sat up and laughed having rather enjoyed being taken by surprise.
”I’m sorry, you try jumping from a moving cart onto an already occupied moving horse and see how graceful you are,” She said indignantly, shifting her weight and taking better hold on the horse, freezing as Azilon’s breath brushed her neck. Sucking her a breath of air she was about to retort when he started...laughing. ” There is something wrong with you,” she said. ”Besides, I wasn’t running away, would have stayed near the carriage and I was just testing you,” she said unconvincingly ”However, if you would have broken your back, then I’d get to ride the horse and you’d be in the carriage, can you blame me?”
“No, I suppose not… but I figured it was fair enough to warn you that if I fall, you’re falling with me.” The man shrugged before letting out a sharp whistle, the horse’s ears perking up to attention. While this particular steed wasn’t his war horse, all of the beasts within his estate had been trained to listen to his commands. Rya would still be able to steer, but for the time being he had taken the speed out of her control.
“Perhaps treat him a little gentler this time. He might be used as a means of transportation but he is still a living creature that has feelings. How would you like it if someone jumped on your back and started doing this?” The mischievous gleam was back in his eye as his hands met with Rya’s sides just beneath the ribcage, thumbs digging into the pressure points that hid there.
”He’s fine with it,” she said cooly. “I know I used to be a ---” her comment was cut off by squeal, semi-collapsing to one side, causing her to jerk the reins hard enough that the horse turned to one side. ”Okay, I know he hated that, why not try being a little gentler this time,” she grumbled, almost mocking.
“He’s used to my… “shenanigans” as Scoot likes to call it. But for a moment there it almost sounded like you were going to say you had experience with animals before. Just out of personal curiosity is this true?” He asked after returning his arms to their place around Rya’s waist.
Rya winced, instinctively pulling her elbows in a little tighter out of fear that he’d...poke her side again. ”Don’t do that again,” she muttered. Relaxing after a moment. ”But yeah, you might say that, although mostly we’d just watch the wild ones, dad was really into animals and mom was really into plants, but we had a few domestics, mostly horses for travel into and around the swamp,” she said sounding almost wistful. “But, I suppose you don’t have any swamps to wander in then, so I guess my animal skills are null and void,”
“Hmm, good to know. There might be hope for you yet.” Azilon murmured thoughtfully before sighing. He still didn’t know what he was going to do about the girl left behind in the carriage, Drakken in decent but Gemminite in temperament. Locked away most of her life unlike Rya, the list of skills was likely to be much smaller. Shrugging to himself, he focused on the horizon. It had already been quite some time since they had left the keep, but he knew there was still quite a bit left to go. Off in the far distance was blur of dark color, easily missed if one didn’t know what to look for… But for those with the keenest of eyes would know that nearly two days of riding would bring them to the border of the forest that he called home.
“If you can promise to behave yourself this time, I’ll allow you full control back of my friend here.”
”If by behave yourself, you mean ‘don’t try to buck me off the horse again’ sure,” she said, a little too cheerfully. Carefully guiding the horse back on route, waiting for Azlion to whistle his tune before easing the horse into a faster paced lope. She kept riding with him until the sun and dipped below the sky and a few stars came out, exhausted she finally asked very nicely (slamming the horse to a full and unexpected stop)to get off and having Scoot stop the carriage so she could crawl back inside falling asleep almost at once, knowing her body would be aching tomorrow, but feeling it was worth it.
She was only able to sleep for less than an hour before the carriage stopped in front of her new home.
Azilon was rather impressed with Rya’s ability to handle the horse, after all, despite it being for general travel, he was still a tricky steed to get used to. Rya on the other hand appeared to have a pretty sharp instinct for the way the animal thought and would behave. A handy skill to be sure. Eventually even she grew tired, though, and ended up retreating back into the confines of the carriage to sleep for the remainder of their journey. She slept as they entered the borders of the forest, only stirring when they had neared the enormous clearing that was his estate. It was nothing in comparison to some of the other lords in the land, however, it was comparable to the Gemminite royals if only a bit smaller.
A shiver running down his spine, Azilon tensed at the familiar feeling of being watched… Only this was not the eyes of any of his servants. A flame lit up the darkness between Azilon and his front gate, the fire enveloping the fist of the one who conjured it. Blocking his and his companion’s way was a larger, well built Drakken warrior, obviously older than Azilon was. White hair and near black eyes were some of his more defining features if you weren’t counting his hulk-like build. The sound of laughter echoed around them but for once it did not belong to Azilon, who instead sat frozen in his seat upon his horse. Eyes locked on the figure before him, Azilon urged his horse forward to stand between the carriage and the stranger.
“I was wondering when you’d return. Didn’t you know it’s rude to keep a man waiting?” The deep voice filled the space around them, echoing in the still forest. “What are you doing here?” He growled spitefully, a tone not all unlike the one he had taken with Aeila’s brother back at the kKeep. The only difference was that this one held true malice. “Now, now. Is that any way to treat your old man? I had heard that you finally showed up to a Reaping. I was curious to see what livestock you’d brought home for yourself.” Azilon’s eyes narrowed as the man talked, jaw clenched tightly so as to refrain from snarling like a dog. “I don’t know where you heard that from, but I don’t really care. It’s none of your business so leave.” He responded curtly, glaring down at the man from his perch. As if he heard nothing of what Azilon said, the man made a move to walk around Azilon toward the carriage.
“She must be in here then.” The man was quickly cut off by a fuming Azilon, still on his horse. A dark expression twisted his facial features, not at all pleased. Pulling back his arm he made a motion as if punching Azilon, not making physical contact but instead launching a violent burst of air that sent Azilon flying back off his horse. Landing on his back, Azilon was paralyzed for a moment as pain ripped through his body, air refusing to fill his lungs. Grunting with disatisfaction, the man approached the carriage and opened the door, pausing a moment out of surprise. He knew from his spies at the Keep that Azilon had shown up and possibly claimed a bride, however he had no details aside from that. So he was quite taken aback to see not one but two girls in the carriage… His eyes were immediately drawn to the redhead though, noting the horns and brightly colored hair. Recognition filled his eyes as he stared at her, having heard rumors before. “You’ve been holding out on me Azi… This little piece of royalty can’t possibly belong to you?” He challenged reaching his arm into the carriage to grab Aeila and remove her from the vehicle.
Rya was startled awake by a scream from Aeila and a booming voice from a male, cracking her eyes open she jolted up at the unknown male. For a second she thought it could have been Azilon, the facial structure were similar, but really that was all. Being in the carriage, not connected to Earth at all, Rya was unable to call her magic. Unable to do anything really. That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to do anything.
”Don’t touch her,’ hissed Rya, grabbing Aelia’s arm and yanking her further back, sliding her own body in his way. ”We...are...Azilon’s...only he gets to touch us,” she muttered, unable to think of any other helpful argument.
The man’s advance paused for a moment as the other girl slipped between him and his intended target, his temple twitching with annoyance. This Gem dared to speak back against him? Pulling back his hand he struck the back of his knuckles against the side of her face, catching her neck in his palm before her momentum could carry her to the floor. Gripping her tightly, he made sure that she could still breathe, but only barely as he pulled her in close to look at her. “You’re little runt Azilon’s are you? Because it seems to me as if his cowardly ass has yet to mark his own brides, if your attitude is any indicator. In this country there are several ways to properly claim a bride. Branding is only one. So tell me, my dear, has he even attempted to train you properly? If you were my bride, I’d have already planted my seed in you. I would have had you begging for mercy long before we had even left the Keep. You’d have truly been mine and mine alone, cowering in a corner keeping your mouth shut like the pretty little slave you are. Maybe I should just take you both for myself, seeing as he’s so unworthy of such eye candy.” The man snarled, leaning in even closer to the small girl. She almost looked like a doll in his hand, a fragile being whose very life depended on how tight he clenched his fist. Before he could get any closer though, the cold touch of steel graced his throat. Azilon who had finally recovered from being thrown, had snuck up behind him and held his blade to the man’s throat. “Get your hands off my property, or I swear those words will be your last.” Despite all the joking he had done up until this point, Azilon was dead serious. There was something different about his look this time too, darker… pure murderous intent. The man only laughed, causing Azilon’s face to darken twist even further.
“Resorting to such cowardly tricks? You never change do you? Such a disappointment.” He hissed, raising his elbow to strike Azilon in the face. This attack was anticipated, however, as Azilon ducked out of the way of the strike. Bringing an empty right palm up, Azilon slammed his hand into the man’s face listening to the nose crunch under the force. The impact was enough to get him to drop Rya and send him retreating a few steps, eyes almost confused as to what had happened before he ended up beaming proudly.
“Now that… That is a son of mine!” He bellowed, clapping slowly for Azilon who promptly ignored the man. “Are either of you hurt?” Azilon asked, voice still bearing his hostility toward his father. “Scoot, take them inside. We’ll be along shortly.” “”S-sir… You still haven’t fully recovered from the last….” Scoot was cut short by an icy glare, nodding his understanding before addressing the two girls. “Come along… We’ll wait inside, it’ll be safer there.” His tone was thick with worry, but it was clear from Azilon’s expression that there wasn’t any changing his mind.
Rya’s head was still spinning from the blow, her mouth tasted of copper and her face stung slightly. She hadn’t comprehended much of what the man had...growled? Growled at her. She was almost thankful to be ushered into the building and away from the man outside. It was only after Scoot had her and her sister wife settled into one of the inner rooms that her thoughts flashed back to Azilon. Trying hard not to think about him, she focused on the interior. Is was a room full of dark stone, it seemed to be an utterly pointless room. A place to sit to watch people come in from the front door. Suddenly the front door open, and Rya held her breath, waiting to see which of the men would come through the giant door.
As the front doors creaked open, Azilon shuffled through with a limp, a tired butand disgusted look on his face. His face, hands, and chest were covered in blood, though where it was coming from was hard to tell. The skin on his back bright red from what appeared to be exposure to great amounts of heat but not quite naked flame. Pushing him along from behind was the man from before, covered in his fair share of cuts and bruises though obviously better off than Azilon was. Scoot made to say something but chose silence instead, quite wary of the man he knew to be Azilon’s father. The mousy man winced as his name was barked, standing at attention nervously before the pair.
“Introductions if you please.” Azilon spat, clearly displeased with the outcome of his match. Nodding vigorously, Scoot turned so that he could see both the men and the girls easily. “O-of course. Ehem, Miss Rya… Miss Aeila. I-it is m-my great pleasure to introduce the current head of the Dantanath household: Salazar Khan Dantanath, Dragon of the Conquered Dunes and father to your… husband... Lord Azilon. M-My Lord Salazar, these lovely ladies are Rya and Aeila… Lord Azilon’s picks from the Gemminite Reaping.” Scoot managed to stammer through his introduction, looking rather pale and shaky… more so than usual that was. Glancing over with wide eyes, he motioned for them to speak up. “It is impolite not to bow your head to a war lord of his standing.” He whispered to them coarsely.
1. Some stuff with a horse. Rya did try to break Azilon's back (but only so she could ride the horse by herself) 2.Rya naps. 3. We meet Daddy Zi and he is kinda rapey. 4. Some hitting and stuff happens and now we are a happy family....if only we can decide who bows to who....
Aeila had been dreaming. Dreaming of a time gone past, of hours spent combing through long tomes of mostly meaningless knowledge. She could probably rhyme off all the leaders of Drakka backwards at that point. Then came the time when the snow crept back to the mountains, when the rivers rushed and the green returned once more. And with the arrival of spring, so too would the Warlords come. Hungry for another conquest, they would score the Imperial Library for old maps or details of some forgotten nation and so, Aeila would be banished to the upper rooms of the Citadel. It was her prison.
She did escape it once. When she was barely a child, she found a servant’s staircase and ended up wandering through the kitchens. She still remembered how the guards found her and took her back and she swore she would never forget the slow creak of the door as her father came to deal with her. Quite a memorable noise.
Commotion outside pulled her from her dreams. They had stopped and there were voices but she was too groggy to register them. A loud crash came as a warning but much too late as their carriage door was tore open. For a moment she swore it was her father. The cold eyes, white mane and hands of fire. She did all she could - she screamed.
Rya came to her defence almost as soon as she woke. Where she summoned the bravery to stand up to a Drakken of that size, Aeila didn't know, but it was slowly occurring to her that the man outside wasn't her father. That was the least of her worries considering the glint of recognition as he rounded on her.
Rya’s interruption was fiery but it earned her nothing more than a fist that could probably break trees in two. That same fist grew around her fragile neck, it's veiny tendrils locking her in place and limiting her breathing. Aeila was terrified. She had already backed into the corner of the carriage and despite her mind yelling at her to step in, to save the angry little Gem, her body wouldn't commit itself to action. Thankfully, it didn't need to as Azilon’s blade reached the stranger’s neck. As they were quickly escorted away by Scoot, the stranger’s laughter caught her off guard. He was Azilon’s father?
She didn't look back. Guilt welled up inside her and she clutched onto Rya. She swore to herself that if anyone else dared to touch the smaller girl, she'd deal with them but she didn't quite believe herself.
The inside was an interesting place but the sounds of combat outside held their attention. It didn't last long and she wasn't too surprised to find Azilon stumbling in, his body covered in blood and bruises. She should have felt some sort of relief from that but dread pulled at her. She recognised the man's face and it didn't take Scoot’s introduction for her to realise that they were in a great deal of danger with Azilon’s power so diminished.
Rya licked her lips, her eyes flashing from Scoot’s over Salazar Khan and finally settling on Azilon. A few intense seconds of staring at the man, she took a deep breath. Her voice came out slightly raspier from the damage done to her throat early. “I understand why I should bow...but why should she?” She said, motioning to Aeila. “I don’t know how it works in your culture, but doesn’t Princess trump war lord?” Her voice surprisingly even for the amount of daggers being visually dug into her. “Right?” she said, before anyone could answer, looking at Aelia.
Aeila stayed characteristically quiet the entire time, letting the silence fill the room. She didn't quite know how she was going to approach the situation - the man knew who she was and considering he was more powerful than Azilon, he could take her with ease. Her planning was, of course, ruined by Rya. The girl had heart but sometimes a little bit too much mouth. Sighing internally, Aeila looked past the two looming Drakken to a coat of arms that adorned the far wall. “I'm not a Princess.” She finally answered, eyes flashing back to Rya. “I'm a bastard - Snowblood. A royal bastard but still a bastard.”
Very suddenly, an idea formed in her head. Yes she was below this War Lord but there was someone above him. Someone who he actually feared and that could be enough to save her. Injecting as much fabricated confidence as she could muster into her voice, she stepped out between the group. “But I think you're sorely mistaken. I'm not Azilon’s wife. My brother left him to die and I wasn't quite one to see him bleed to death so that's why I'm here.” Drakken didn't respond well to pompousness but they understood threats well enough. “My father will be looking for me and given that a number of power hungry guards saw me leave with your son, I'm sure it won't take him too long to figure out where I am. The same goes for the Gem girl as well - she isn't his property. He'd be very dead right now if it wasn't for her. So what I'm trying to say is if you want to avoid some bloodshed, I recommend sending my friend and I back to the capital.”
Azilon’s eyes remained glued to the floor, jaw clenched tightly at yet another defeat. As much as he’d like to blame his latest loss on the fight with Rynek, fighting his own father had never before resulted in a win. There had been a time or two where he managed to land a draw, but he still could not fathom how they came about. He kept quiet as Scoot made the introductions, each syllable tying a knot tighter and tighter in his gut. Azilon had expected… or rather hoped that the girls would just keep their mouths shut and bow as Scoot had advised, however Rya was once again striking out in a way that she could not hope to win.
Before he could interject anything himself, Aeila took to “defending” herself with half-truths. The longer she spoke the higher his eyes rose until they were locked onto the redhead, wide with concern. How? How do such tiny little creatures manage to cause so much trouble just by opening their mouths? Slowly his eyes shifted to meet those of his father’s, held captive in their fiery glare.
Sighing heavily, Salazar turned back to the royal girl curiously. Back in the carriage she had been terrified… Weak. She had hidden behind a Gemminite for protection instead of fighting him herself as he was sure capable of even a bastard child of the royal bloodline. Now, though, she stood tall, challenging him with words. He smiled inwardly, noting her preferred battleground. It seemed what she lacked in physical prowess she made up in political rhetoric. An interesting girl. He doubted that she was telling him the whole truth, but he did have to admit that her words made sense. Azilon had not been at his full strength despite having supposedly spent the last few days “relaxing”. The scars on his back certainly seemed fresh, but even he could see that there were differences in their stories. Azilon had fought tooth and nail to defend what he referred to as his property yet this girl here claimed neither one of them belonged to him but the capital? As he thought, his eyes narrowed. He did not enjoy being made to look like a fool, facing threats that could or could not be credible… that being said, even a war lord had to respect the royal’s wishes. Should her words be true after all, then he would face great punishment for defying them regardless of what sort of defense he threw at them. It seemed that he had reached a standstill with these irritating wenches.
“Rya was it? Miss Snowblood here is quite correct. The bastard child of the royal house does not hold any higher standing than any other Drakken, however it seems as if my initial assessment of the situation was false. Allow me to extend my deepest apologies and invitation to personally see to your safe return home.” Salazar Khan smirked as he felt his son’s eyes piercing into the side of his head.
“I will send word to my eldest son to escort you, seeing as this disgrace is incapable of protecting even himself.”
Rya took in a deep breath, trying to figure through the shit show that was this whole mess. “Ah, no. That seems unwise, for obvious reasons,” Rya took another deep breath. “It’s been a long journey. Perhaps we should ….go...to sleep?” she said quickly. If the older ‘better son’ was the one that this man suggested take them back...they would be in for a very unpleasant ride. If they made it back at all. Which...seemed unlikely.
“Father, don’t you think that’s a little unnecessary? Tar-” Salazar raised a hand, silencing him immediately.
“Nonsense, I insist upon it. If memory serves me correctly, he’ll be travelling through the area quite soon. I’ll send for him to make a detour. After all, these lovely ladies should be returned as soon as possible to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Isn’t that right, Snowblood?” Everything about him stood to mock the group, as if to show them that he still held the real power here. Azilon grimaced, approaching the girls in order to put some distance between him and his father.
“You heard them, it’s been a long journey. I’m sure you have better things to be doing than preventing us from getting a little bit of rest.” He growled, the sound lacking in it’s usual ferocity.
Aeila’s gaze lingered on the Warlord for a moment, her eyes betraying the fear that cut through her as she watched the cage fall down around them. It was like the bathing room all over again - of all the lessons her father tried to teach her, she should have listened to him about hesitancy. But this was too far into the deep end for Aeila. This man didn't fear her veiled lies but she couldn't give up. Not yet.
”If you deem it so.” Surprisingly, she dropped the iciness and her face took on a gentler complexion which seemed to suit her much better than her haughtiness. ”Good night, Lord Khan.”
If one thing was clear, it was that she had to listen to what her father had spent years trying to drill into her. Khan was smart but if she remained unpredictable, if her emotions changed with the wind, she could beat him. Or at least, that's what she told herself. Turning, she moved for the stairs despite not having a single clue where she was going.
As soon as Aelia started to walk away, Azlion shared a few more words with his father, before half-dragging Rya up the stairs after Aelia. The castle, even this small part of it, was by far the largest building that she had ever been in, apart from the castle they had brought her too for her...selection. After a few twists and turns, Rya was positive that she would never be able to find her way back to the entrance hall. After passing a few doors, the pair caught up with Aelia and Azlion swept them off to what was probably his private halls. He pushed them through a large oak door to an equally large, dark bedroom. “You’ll stay here.” he muttered, using the two girls through a small door towards the back of the room.
The room behind the door was small, perhaps the smallest Rya had seen since leaving her home, yet she could have fit half of her childhood house within its walls. There was one large window that let a stream of silvery moonlight cast on the stone floor. On the far side there was a crackling fire, the only other source of light in the room. Apart from that, the room held two small, freshly made beds, there were shelves filled with ancient books, a few chairs and a desk. Long night shirts were left for the girls as well as pitchers of water, rags and washbasins.
“....Well,” said Rya a few seconds after the door closed. “...Did you mean...all that you said?”
Thankfully, Azilon finally caught up to Aeila, because she's fairly certain she would have kept wandering instead of stopping and asking for directions. She was terrified, of course and in retrospect, she should have sought company with Azilon but he clearly couldn't provide the safety she needed. At least when she was with Rynek, no one could touch her.
When they were finally left alone, the gentle crackling of the fire settled in which somewhat calmed her. It reminded her of the long winter months spent prowling the upper levels of the palace. That calm was broken, understandably, by a nervous Rya. After slowly sitting down on one of the beds, Aeila regarded her. ”No; there's no one waiting for me to come home.” It began to occur to her that she was stuck in this situation and with that, she became terrified. Staring off into the flames, the guilt and terror churned up inside her, forming a putrid mixture which tore her to pieces. ”I'm sorry… It’s my fault we're in this mess! If I had just... “ She fell quiet again, small tears grasping at the edge of her eyes. ”How do we beat them? We have nothing…”
“I’m glad that you’ve accepted responsibility, and I forgive you,” said Rya, walking around the room, sifting through drawers, crawling under her bed, and pacing the floor before finally coming to the conclusion that the room held nothing interesting in the least. “And other than crippling an empire, I don’t see much we can do. And you’ll lose if we do that. So...I don’t know. I don’t suppose you could become one of the tough scary drakken ladies overnight?” Rya then crossed over the basin, stripping off her clothing as she went until she was totally nude. She poured a bit of the luke warm water in the bowl before wiping off the stench of travel, careful to avoid the spot where Khan had struck her. “I suppose...there would be no harm in just refusing to go...right?”
She used the sleeve of her tunic he had gifted her the day previous to wipe away the moisture from her eyes. Rya was oddly hopeful about it - she knew her fate but she didn't seem to worry about it. Aeila wished she could share her resilience but she wasn't so lucky. Crippling an empire? ”No… Sorry!” She turned away for a moment, inspecting the clothing left on the bed. A quiet rustle brought her attention back to find Rya stark naked. Blushing almost as brightly as her hair, her eyes went wide. “Why are you naked!?”
Startled, Rya looked over at the blushing Drakken girl, eyebrows raised. “Uh...because...my dress...was dirty? And I don’t know how you get clean, but since I don’t think we’ll get a bath tonight, this is how I am doing it,” The girl turned and faced the girl fully. “Are...you alright?”
Despite her explanation, Aeila’s eyes still remained wide and avoiding. She wasn't quite used to people just pulling their clothes off randomly. Then again, she wasn't quite used to people. “Yea- Yes. I've just always bathed. Alone.” She quickly realised her mistake and rushed to correct it. ”Not saying you have anything to hide, of course! You have a very bea-” She stopped talking. Desperate to turn the conversation, she caught onto of the mark left by Khan. It didn't look too pleasant. “Does it hurt?”
A growing look of concern crossed Rya’s face as Aelia kept talking. To be honest, she found the girl to be very amusing. Even if she still didn’t have her tail. It wasn’t as though Rya particularly enjoyed bathing with an audience, but it had become something she was used to. Sometimes, if you wanted to be clean, your choice was the river with the family, or...nothing. Rya blinked a few more times, letting the girl talk herself out. “Yeah, it does. Had I known it would have hurt this bad, I might not have saved you if we are being honest,” Rya turned back to the bed and yanked on the shirt before crawling into Aelia’s bed, sitting next to the girl, reaching out to brush a bit of Aelia’s hair back. “But really, you should try to think powerful drakken thoughts tonight. Just incase,”
Her eyes went even wider than before, if that was possible. She felt guilty enough as it was, letting the smaller Rya take a hit for her and the confirmation of the pain sealed the deal. Letting her chin fall, she tried to quietly recall something she read before. Within a moment, the displacement of the mattress under her caused her to look up, finding the other girl beside her, fingers confidently peeling back a tuft of red hair and locking it behind her ear. ”Powerful Drakken thoughts?” She questioned as she took a moment to inspect the forming bruise on Rya’s cheek.
Standing, she fetched a pitcher of warmed water. She felt guilty and if she could ease the pain even only slightly, it would be worthwhile. Blushing, she tilted the other girl’s chin back as a swirling ball of water lifted from the pitcher of its own accord. Smashing itself into a smooth block, its temperature plummeted until it was frozen solid, still levitating. Taking a cloth, Aeila tentatively reached up and wrapped it around the ice before gently pressing it against the forming bruise.
Rya jumped as the ice touched her face, but the relief was instant and she relaxed into the ice. “Water huh?” She said. “Crazy useful,” a few drops of water formed from the heat of her skin and ran down her face. After a few more minutes, she pulled away. “I suppose we shouldn’t put off morning much longer, especially if we are going to try to take down the establishment” Pulling herself up off the bed. “It’ll be okay, something will happen. Course I can’t know that, but it feels right to say,” she then walked over to her own bed, pulled the blankets back and curled up to go to sleep.
Aeila quietly watched her get up off the bed and move to her own before slipping under the sheets and falling asleep instantly. Sighing gently, the small Drakken pulled up the blankets of her own bed and crawled under but she didn't sleep. It wasn't the time for sleep.
Azilon gets his booty handed to him. Papa Khan lays down the law while Aeila tries to trick him into thinking she has to go home. He counters it by saying Azi’s psycho brother can take her. The girls share a room and awkward moments and go to sleep.
Zakroti nodded and leant down to offer Aymiria his hand "Heh, no saddlebag for you. You ride with me. I shall have someone teach you." Zakroti said as he helped her up into the saddle with him. He called out an order for the entourage to assume formation in a column and spurred his horse to ride forwards, casing a glance towards Annaveya
"My lady, sneaking off to the stables is hardly what one might expect of a young princess." Zakroti said with mock shock on his voice, smirking "Why, whatever did the good lords and ladies of Gemminia think to have a princess skulking around in the shadows? Tell me, why did you have to sneak off to the stables anyhow? I would have imagined learning to ride would have been as common in Gemminia as it is here."
"If the Princess likes horses, perhaps she should see the race at Cheydinhame next month." Julius noted. Zakroti grunted a quiet affirmation; Cheydinhame was a major city in the Orth of Kreprehame within the Muth of Balmoras. The city itself being built just inside a great forest, though the plains that bordered said forest were open and vast. Horses from Cheydinhame were noted for being swift, hardy and remarkably brave and as such were highly prized among the nobles and knights of Osh Edehame "Does anyone remember that Kalderan Chief last year? The look on his face when he was told he had to ride a horse to compete..."
"The look on his face after he was thrown into the lake was more amusing." Kilio mused with a small laugh. After a few minutes of riding, the blackguard began to recite a poem quietly to himself to pass the time. Before long, Gaikus had joined him and the two were reciting verses of various poems together on the road.
"Grar e Moras, Zyro e Varlas, Ogim-Bar Lali, narfin hamei. Hilyat garvas, hilyat aran, hilyat zuth e hilyat kaan A an ish hilyat lali
Gehdzi hilyat kala shanta Gehdzi hilyat kala shanta Gehdzi hilyat kala shanta wredzieiz mathi
Hilyat lal, hilyat orth, hilyat wel e hilyat muth Hilyat kala krepre, hilyat na ienasi. (Pain and earth, hatred and blood, Hornheaded warriors, foreign lands Come farmer, come king, come knight and come guard From the east come warriors.
They come to take They come to take They come to take Your homes.
Come warrior, come count, come child and come duke Come to war, come as protectors.)" @Feisty-Pants @RomanAria
The feeling in the Great Hall was foreign and uncomfortably hot. Layla stood with other castoff Gems, not breathtaking enough to catch someone's eye. Well, that was not true. Layla had been chosen by someone as an afterthought, just in case his other bride did not survive the night. Which was highly likely considering the Drakken's huge size and foul smell.
But it seemed some form of higher power had a sense of humor because as he was bedding his bride the fat brute seemed to have suffered some kind of heartattack. He had been found dead atop an equally dead bride, the Gem having suffocated under his weight. Now Layla had been placed back in the group of last pickings, waiting for another to chose her.
She was not breathtakingly gorgeous. She knew this. Layla had the kind of beauty that was softer, quieter. It didn't announce itself but had to be veiwed to be appreciated, much like a sunset that got more beautiful the longer you beheld it. It used to bother her, not being beautiful like other Gems. At times it still did. But being ignored often had its advantages.
If her stepsister had been taken she would be either dead or sobbing in a corner somewhere. Layla had been substituted for her stepsister at the last minute. The guards hadn't cared. She was a Gem and she was of age. Her lip still hurt. Backtalking Drakken guards did not end well for her. The smack he had given her had caused her lip to split but at least he hadn't gone any further.
The other Gems around her had been cast aside by their respective 'husbands' for being unsatisfactory. It made her blood boil. They were being treated like toys, thrown away once they were broken. The only difference between her and the others was that Layla had not been bedded yet.
They wouldn’t have been late if it hadn’t been for Liana’s acting out.
Though, to be fair, Liana would not have acted out had that Drakken not put his hands on her. One of her escorts, a nasty minor warlord, had gotten a little too close and said a few too many offensive things… so she had broken his nose and bruised his ribs.
The girl gritted her teeth at the rattling of her chains as she subconsciously clenched her fists. After it had happened they’d stopped in the nearest town, to find a doctor for the injured guard, a couple more reinforcements, and a blacksmith to fit her with shackles. The slave trade was prohibited in Gemminia, of course, but many smiths along the southern border knew how to make shackles and even kept a few sets on hand, lest a Drakken soldier bringing prizes from the southern war need them. The smith had wanted to argue, fitting a Gemminite girl, but the warlord had threatened to take his daughter as well, and so he had hastily complied.
The next night, the same guard had been taunting Liana, jangling the keys just out of reach. She might not have had use of her hands, them being shackled to six inches of chain at her front, nor of her feet which were hobbled on a foot. But she did still have her teeth, and so she’d lunged up from her resting place and bitten him, tearing a sizeable piece out of his cheek.
At the next town, they’d acquired two more roving guards and had her fitted with a slave collar, a strange metal-and-leather contraption that also had straps to buckle around her head, mostly immobilizing it facing forwards as well as locking a hardened bit of rawhide inside her mouth. Again, the smith the drakken had gone to hadn’t wanted to do it, but at threat to his own family he agreed.
And so it was that Liana was marched through Shadow Worth with far, far too many guards and far, far too many chains. They led her to a bathing room and stripped her, tearing her clothes when they couldn’t remove them from her chains fast enough. They dunked her in the ice-cold bathing water, more a formality than anything, and one of them yanked a comb roughly through her tangled, two-toned hair until it hung silky-smooth down her back. Liana struggled immensely, trying to call on the sparks within her, but only succeeded in mildly warming the air, though it was enough to get her mismatched curls to perk up again.
The guards rummaged through her bags, producing her finest- well, her only proper dress. it had been made as her wedding dress, and was the only true “dress” she owned (For normal day-to-day wear, she favored tunics over leggings… sure, it drew raised eyebrows, but it was so much harder to run, much less fight, in even a short dress.
The gown was made of iridescent silk, shifting in hue from orange to blue. It was quite fitted, and sleeveless, and would show off her lithe, athletic form. And a good amount of her oddly-pigmented skin.
The guard with the keys approached her- she forced herself to appear docile and tame. He quickly unlocked her shackles, the other guards grabbing her extremities with iron grips. They left the collar and head device on her, and further restrained her by that, and forced her into her gown. It was either go along with it or get a limb broken… so she went along with it.
The moment her dress was on they forced her into uncomfortably-small dress slippers that were hopelessly flimsy- entirely impossible to run in. And the moment those were laced on the shackles went back on, wrists together, ankles together, and wrists to ankles so that the only way she could move her hands was a few inches side to side at her waist and her feet only in shuffling, six-inch steps. The girl was only able to give a muffled groan of indignation (which resulted in her being firmly cuffed upside the head, causing stars to explode in her vision.)
The guardsman who held the keys descended the stairs with her, standing behind her and holding the fingers of one hand looped through the back of her (hopefully temporary) collar, the keys to her shackles in the other. It was clear she had not been claimed as his bride, that he was just a guardsman. As she glanced over the crowd the guard tightened his grip, and she internally cursed her mismatched eyes for being so expressive of her fury and hate.
She surveyed the gathered lords and brides as thoroughly as she was able, with that stupid immobilizing collar thing blocking her. This was the second day, so the pools of both lords and girls were considerably smaller. Most of the brides left were the ones who weren’t classically beautiful, the ones deemed too small or too meek or too violent or… anything else that could be wrong with them. A couple of the other brides were similarly chained, and bearing their own bruises and red slap-prints. Most of the others had a dejected air about them, but a few were glancing around almost desperately.
To be completely honest, Liana couldn’t exactly blame them. She had heard whispers of what happened to the gems not chosen- they weren’t pleasant, any of them. Some said they were given to their escort guards for their trouble, some said they were sold off to whorehouses, some said they were turned out on the streets and left for dead, some said they were quietly killed, some said they were quietly killed – after being tortured, mostly for fun, by the king’s personal guards. In any case, not a happy fate to live out.
For a moment, Lia’s eyes dulled, but then their blazing fire and ice came back with a vengeance as she blankly looked towards the assembled lords. There had to be some who’d stayed back waiting for the second day. The cruel ones, the bloodthirsty ones, the violent ones, the lesser ones with something to prove maybe, but they had to have remained, and they had to be hungry for someone who could give them a run for their money.
Behind the gag Lia offered a tiny, self-satisfied smirk. She’d show any lord who dared touch her.
"I warn you Eliza, if you have led me astray you will deeply regret it."
"I would never lie to you, my lord husband."
Through the halls of Shadow Worth walked a Drakken who stood taller with a darker look than most of his peers. His black hair was tied behind his head, he wore his typical black ceremonial armor, and at his waist hung a pair of curved swords. Though his first Bridal Selections those years ago had proved wrought with conflict and opposition, steady proving of himself and ruthlessness where it counted had ensured that Dorian's reputation had grown to ensure the wise Drakken steered out of his way. As such, the doors of the fortress were opened easily before him, and though his presence on the second day of selection raised more than a few eyebrows, none of the guards were foolish enough to say a word of it within his earshot.
Walking beside him, her position as his wife denoted by the silver metal choker inlaid with a single large emerald around her neck, was a Gem named Eliza Celestine. She was peculiar by wife standards in that she had reached her mid-twenties in age and had lost neither her life nor a shred of her beauty. Her golden hair was tied into a long tail that hung down her back, leaving her face and neutral expression clear to the world, and she wore a dark green winter dress that served to keep her warm while accenting her features. She stood close to her husband, more for protection than affection, as they made their way through the all too familiar halls.
"I was once an attendant to a royal bride who had been delayed to the second day. The idea must be of haggard or unwhole candidates, but I can assure you there is plenty of beauty to be found here today," she continued, "Beauty that would be wasted on the mongrels who swarm here thinking those of your caliber absent, husband."
"You had best hope your words ring true," he replied coldly, "Else you will find yourself without breath for half a month. I have staked much by refraining from selecting on the first day."
"If I am wrong, you may hang me by the gates in warning."
"That is enough speech. From now until we depart, you will speak only when I speak to you."
Eliza nodded silently as the final doors opened before them. Inside was a scene that Dorian nearly found repulsive; second-rate bottom feeder Drakken filled the room, armed with crude and unkempt weapons, some of them already coming to blows over Gems he would not even consider taking as handmaidens to his wives. And yet, for all he saw that displeased him, a lingering search found some truth to ring in Eliza's words. Scattered about the crowd of leftovers were a surprising number of charming candidates, and he found himself intrigued by a choice few of them.
Most prominently was a slender redhead standing toward the front. She had beauty worthy of Gem nobility in her features, and as she scanned the room she seemed to hold the same disgust at her present company as he did. She had a sense of dignity, then; that was good. She would make for a fine wife, once he was finished with her. But he would have to act fast if he wished to claim her.
"You," he boomed to call both her attention and those of the surrounding Drakken, "You will do, as a start. Come here."
She complied as he beckoned, her head held as high as she could dare without offering insult. Decorum as well, then; perhaps there was a diamond or two to be found among the coal after all. They exchanged names, and he waved away her questions for now as he bade her stand near. There was a speck, a glimpse of defiance in her eyes that she sheltered away quickly, but Dorian paid it no mind. There would be time aplenty to stamp that out at home.
The rattling of chains drew his attention as one of the Gems, bound and gagged to an extreme, rattled against her binds. The Drakken that had been looking at her backed away in fright, as though she were some sort of caged beast. Pathetic. Dorian flicked his fingers at his wife and bride to follow closely behind him, and he made his way over to the bandaged guard standing near her.
"And what, pray tell, is the reason for these binds?" he asked.
"Ah, my lord, this Gem is... troublesome, and had to be restrained lest she delay our journey further." the guard replied.
"Delay it? How could she delay it in the first place?"
"There, ah, was an attack on the caravan, my lord," the guard continued to stammer, "A pack of wild cats, and while we dealt with them she-"
He was cut short as Dorian forcefully grabbed his chin to look at the injuries to his face.
"I despise falsehoods," he said with frozen words, "These are not the wounds of a wild cat. They are the marks of a brawl."
The truth of the matter dawned swiftly on him as the signs came together. A subtle, wicked sneer came to the corners of his mouth as he understood what had happened.
"You mean to tell me," he said in a brutal and mocking tone, "That you were nearly overpowered and injured to this degree by this Gem?"
A chorus of laughter followed as the Drakken gathered came to realize the guard's shame. His pale face flushed red with embarrassment as his stammer worsened.
"S-she's stronger than she appears my lord! I was not prepared for such-"
"I will witness that for myself. Release her."
"Ah... beg pardon, my lord?"
"I said to release her."
"I would, ah, recommend against that my lord, she-"
"I said release her. I will not repeat myself again."
As the guard hastened to obey him, Dorian turned to his wives.
"Eliza. Take your newly made sister-bride and stand away."
"As you say. Come, Bree." Eliza replied quickly as she took Aubree by the arm and stepped back.
Dorian picked up Bree, wants to see Liana's strength for himself.
