The look on Kyoko’s face was incredulous. The Prince was offering her a chance to use all that she had learned, and maintain her rank. Everything she had worked for in her life up to leaving her homeland revolved around her career and her position, which she had been very proud of. Her initial thoughts were that as a Princess she would not ever be able to set foot out of the palace, and be seen and not heard. This…was a true gift, and one that she was truly thankful to be offered.

The more he spoke, the better it sounded. He would of course be her Senior, and she had no qualms with working beneath him and taking orders. It was all par of the course, when in the Brigade. The clincher, was being able to invite one of her Senior Master Sergeants to be transferred from Nephilim. It would mean that neither of them would be returning however, so she knew it would be a big ask on her behalf.

Truth was she loved her old life, and if this gave her even a moment to experience the thrill of action again, then she would grasp it with both hands.

“I accept your proposition, Your Highness. As soon as I am able, I will contact my Brigade and see who is up to be transferred here.” Her smile grew as she admitted a truth. “You don’t know what this means to me.”

<3>

That moment the Prince embraced Kyoko, she felt a wave of shock and surprise. She couldn’t believe he just did something that was so spontaneous. He held her and then on releasing her just stared into her eyes. Did he feel something for her? Kyoko felt the confusion hit her when he turned away, and then more or less changed tactics, saying they should return before idle minds start to spread gossip about their absence. Kyoko shook her head, as though to rid any girlish feelings she may have had. There was no way the Prince could possibly feel anything for her. Soon enough, he returned to the proud looking Prince, his whole body language spoke this. For a few fleeting seconds, she thought they had a relationship of some sort; the possible sparks, but it died away like the breeze. The Prince spoke to her about how she would have to be proved to be worthy for her position, which was not unexpected. Her officer of choice, would also need to be pushed through his paces. Kyoko had no doubt that whoever came up from her Grand Academy would do them both justice.

As Kazuhiko maintained a respectful distance, and spoke to her as though she was under his command, she followed suit. Her eyes became devoid of emotion, and she followed him back to the castle. It had already been a long night, and she was ready to turn in.

On reaching the castle, she simply said.

“Thank you for a wonderful evening, Your Highness. I shall return to my chambers, and get some sleep.”

That said, she bowed and then turned to head down the hall.

<3>

Kyoko hadn’t heard him. She was walking too quickly to get away before he could see the look on her face. Her room was quite a distance from the entrance, and in that walk she mulled over everything that had occurred during this night. Kyoko put on the performance of her life. To look every bit the part the Crown Prince’s Betrothed, and had behaved impeccably. She was certain that at least the royal family would have taken note of her behavior, that would bring some comfort. Duty. That word kept coming up in her mind, again and again.

Kyoko finally reached her door, looking over her shoulder before opening it to find a large expansive room, that was elaborately decorated, but to her it could have been as hollow as a tomb. Sighing, she closed the door behind her, and pushed her head back leaning against the door. On the one hand, the Prince had given her a chance to become a part of his specialist fighting force, and that she would have a comrade from her homeland to work along side. That was something, wasn’t it?

But she would be just another soldier. Kyoko’s heart sank.

“I should be thankful, and yet why is my heart pained?’ She thought to herself.

Slowly she started to shed her clothes, and made her way to the bathroom to wash. Kyoko saw her own reflection in the mirror, and it was an unhappy face. She had to try and make this work. But what is a marriage without love? What is a life without love?

She didn’t know the answer.

<3>

The next morning brought with it sunshine, azure skies and a much dreaded note from Kazuhiko’s father, the Emperor. The brief message made it very clear that if the prince did not attend his weekly mandatory sessions with the royal physician, he would not like the consequences. After crumbling the note and throwing it into the wastebasket, he perused his closet for an outfit as close to casual as possible. He chose a simple black tunic and dark brown trousers with a long black custom etched vest made from the finest tapestry.

The time for their meeting was nearing, so he took a quick sip of water and left his room. The physician would be waiting in an appointed guest room for his arrival. It had been weeks since they last met. Kazuhiko hated the seemingly endless hour talking about what happened the day Casimiro died. Supposedly the rehashing of tragedy was a method of treatment, but he would rather drink a disgusting elixir any day.

He reached the room agreed upon and opened the door without knocking. The physician was already seated in one of the high quality armchairs that decorated each room. If he was surprised that Kazuhiko showed up, he hid it very well. They greeted each other briefly and Kazuhiko took a seat in the armcahir across from the physician. Without warning or provocation, the doctor began speaking as if they had never lost touch.

“I hear that you met the lovely Second Lieutenant Takiharah last night. Sadly, I could not attend the festival due to a previous engagement. Did you two interact well?” the practitioner asked. Kazuhiko was surprised by the topic choice of the physician, who seemed to have at least temporarily dropped the subject of his dead best friend. The crown prince was very pleased he didn’t need to spend the morning traveling down bad memory lane.

“She is very gracious and well-mannered, but I think I have ruined the chances for anything but a cordial partnership,” he said as he leaned his cheek against his fist and rested his elbow on the armrest. Kazuhiko was sure that he had been too forward with Kyoko the night before and believed she would give him the cold shoulder for a long time to come. “I offended her somehow,” he explained to the physician who took everything in and nodded slowly.

“Did you apologize?” the doctor asked.

“Well… no. I was too embarrassed by the whole situation, so I changed the subject,” he said, his cheeks starting to redden from the memory. The doctor laughed in a friendly fashion and sat forward in his seat a little.

“It seems you have experienced the flaw of male and female relations. It will take much time for you and Kyoko to come to understand and trust each other, but I assure you that it can be done. The first step might be to apologize for your offense. That should lighten any antipathy between the two of,” the practitioner said wisely. The session seemed to pass quickly as the doctor gave Kazuhiko pointers of how to sucessfully interact with Kyoko. The crown price was so immersed in the conversation, he didn’t notice when the mandated time limit had passed. The doctor’s advice gave him confidence and he decided that he would meet up with Kyoko before breakfast to atone his bad behavior.

“Thanks for the advice, doc,” he said before leaving and heading toward Kyoko’s room. She wasn’t far from where he met up with the physician, so he would be there in no time. When he arrived, he stood outside her room for a very long time. All of the courage he built came crumbling down around him and lightly tapping on the door was all he could manage. Thinking about giving up and running away, he stood and waited with his hands clasped behind his back.

CharlotteCarrendar

A new day dawned with the sun’s rays filtering through the light curtains and down onto Kyoko’s bed. She had had trouble sleeping initially when she had returned to her chambers, due to her mind being filled with the events of that night. Soon enough she did fall into a deep sleep, and she slowly awoke; stretching and yawning as the new day appeared.

Kyoko threw back her satin quilt and thew her legs over the side of the bed, placing her bare feet down upon the shaggy rug at the foot of her bed. Wriggling her toes, she smiled as she rose to standing, going into a routine of stretches and bending, to help awaken herself further.

Padding over to the window nearest her bed, she looked out over the expansive grounds of the castle, and leaned on her elbows, drinking in the morning sun. Her hair lightly teased by the breeze, blew about behind her as she yawned some more. Her stomach rumbled slightly, as she had not eaten at the grand banquet, having been too self conscious and nervous around the Crown Prince.

Ah, yes. The Crown Prince. She grimaced slightly as she pushed herself off the window sill and turned around to ponder how to deal with him when the time came. He was so business like when they parted, she could only imagine more of the same the next time they met.

A small knock at the door startled Kyoko and she crossed the room quickly to answer it. On opening the door, it was a hand maiden with her breakfast. Relieved, Kyoko took a step back and allowed the girl to enter and Kyoko motioned towards a small table near the large window, where she would like to have her breakfast. The girl was very subservient, bowing and such and Kyoko felt a bit embarrassed that she was doing all this for her. Kyoko didn’t feel any different from when she was at home in the academy. Sighing, she thanked the girl and showed her out, before sitting down to enjoy her breakfast, which was mainly fruits and cereal, with a coffee and juice.

As she ate, she glanced over at picture of her parents, and her younger sister. How she missed them. Kyoko made a point to remind herself to write to them after breakfast, since she had no prior engagements planned. Kyoko glanced across at the empty chair opposite her at the small table, and imagined if the Prince was sitting there. She wondered if after they married, would it be like this? Eating alone, having her own room. If that was the case, this was going to be a lonely life.

Patting her mouth with her napkin as she finished her breakfast, she toyed with her cup of coffee, turning it around and around, as she pondered the future. Who to choose to come and be her offsider on the new assignment, when the Prince gave the orders. Her heart lifted a little. To have someone there that knew her from the years of training. She just hoped they didn’t get upset about leaving their homeland behind, like she had.

Setting down her cup of coffee, she decided to get dressed, and none of the finery either. She settled on casual clothes, with light pants in blue and a white tank top. Sandals to match and when she looked at herself in the mirror, she liked what she saw. Just natural and plain. This was the real Kyoko. The girl behind the future Princess.

As she was about to go and write a letter, there was another knock at the door. Kyoko thought that it must be the servant girl come to get her dishes, and she skipped over to open the door, only to get a shock to see it was the Prince.

“Oh…oh I’m sorry, I thought…never mind. Good morning your Highness.” Kyoko said with a light bow.

<3>

Taking a seat next to Kyoko, Kazuhiko couldn’t help but smile. She seemed to hold no grudge against him and the fact that she wanted to get to know him better was more than he could ask for. It felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders. He relaxed on the window sill and looked around the room. It was just as grand as his own and he wondered if Kyoko liked her new home.

“Getting to know each other sounds perfect,” he said turning a little to face her. “I know you had to leave your homeland behind, but I will try my best to make you feel welcome.” He spoke with earnestness and boyish innocence, happy that they could at least be amicable. He thought of ways he could make her feel more at home and the Air Brigade Base came to mind. The night before, she spoke with so much passion about her career. He knew she would like to see where she would be working now. Hopefully it would give her a reason to not be so sad about leaving her homeland.

“How would you like to visit Desnonia’s Air Brigade today? I’m sure its not as grand as the base in the homeland, but it will give you a chance to meet the team.”

Writers -
CharlotteCarrendar as Valkrik Ghar
ImayarukOdinGorya as Istal

Istal :

Istal couldn’t help but smirk while she watched Valkrik hesitantly drink from her flask. “So how do you like the phoenix bloodwine? Its one of my father’s brews and one of the few things that make food in even the absolute worse conditions safe to eat.” she couldn’t help but chuckle softly as he started to check her out once again obviously curious about her supplies. As he sat down and told her to eat she drew the pouch from under her shirt and held it out to see. It was a simple looking leather satchel marked only by the Blind Eye like her shirt was. “Another one of my father’s creations.” she stated matter-of-factly as she reached in and pulled out a book marked in gold lettering of a language she knew f Valkrik couldn’t read before stashing it back in the pouch. Smirking to herself while waiting for Valkrik to reply she brought the flask back to her mouth and started to drain it. After it should have been clearly empty she handed it back with a noticible slushing sound

*

Valkrik :

The question from Istal on whether the Viking liked the phoenix blood wine, had him almost bring it back up in disgust. Fancy telling him after he had drank it, what he had just consumed. It took a great amount of patience, not to stand up and rip her throat apart, thinking she had tried to trick him with the wine. Her explanation that it was her father’s own brew now had him curious. A phoenix’s blood was rare, very rare. How on earth did her father come across it, let alone make a wine from it? He exhaled loudly, balling his fingers into fists, and placing them squarely on his knees. Last think he needed was to lose his cool in front of his men. Surely they were already watching the pair. When on a long voyage, the simplest things amuse, so when Valkrik was locked in conversation, no matter how small the retorts, it was quite the show.

Again she reached beneath her garments, and this time extracted a satchel that bore the same symbol as before. The blind eye. Istal took out a small book ,and appeared to be teasing the Viking with it, before placing it back in the satchel quickly. Another one of her father’s creations. Here we go with the father again.

“What…is your father exactly?’

Valkrik wasn’t mucking around anymore. He wanted to know the connection between her father and the blind eye. He felt he had a right to know.

*

Istal :

Istal was having the time of her life teasing the Viking. Most of his reactions to the magical items her father had given her was priceless. He clearly wasn’t comfortable around magic and Istal couldn’t help but laugh in her head at every time she made him squirm.

“What…is your father exactly?’, those words made Istal tense. “He is for the lack of a better term, a very old mage, a traveler, and a madman. Most of the people that hear of him know him as the traveler, though a small handful know him as Odin. If he is THE Odin I couldn’t tell you but it is his name.” She said sounding very pained, and troubled. After she had answered Valkrik’s question she slowly brought her knees up to her chin and tucked her head in, to hide the look of guilt and sorrow on her face.

*

Valkrik :

Valkrik sat silently, listening to Istal explain that her father was Odin. Now, she didn’t clarify if he was in fact the same Odin that the Vikings and norse held up on high. She described her father as many things. From a very old mage, to a mad man. Odin…was not a mad man at all. Not in Valkrik’s mind. Rising slowly, he stared down at the girl. He was no longer convinced about her stories, and watching her demeanor change from that of joy, to sudden sadness, had him wonder if she was all there. He no longer wanted to play in her games, and turned his back on her. He headed back up to the helmsman and drummer. Each murmured quietly that they had overheard the conversation…that everyone did, and all were convinced she was some sort of witch. Question was….what would happen when they reached port?

With the night upon them, there was a change in the shifts, and many were to sleep, so they were fresh to row through the day if the winds were no longer in their favour.

Valkrik took his place at the back of the boat, to help guide it homeward, every so often he glanced over at Istal, before looking back out to sea.

*

Istal :

Istal sat in her huddled position as Valkrik left. She heard the men talking about her even if they didn’t think she could. ‘Father was do you bring pain when I talk about you.’ she thought to herself. As darkness set she noticed Valkrik take the helm. with her face covered she spoke very softly and let a small amount of power, “Valkrik don’t turn your back on a wolf or you may stare down a dragon.” The power that flowed into her words was about the same as when she helped create some wind, though no where near as subtle. The words were ment to be heard by their target, Valkrik.

She slowly rised and went to the side of the ship and began to to sing a sad longing song that had no words. In truth she was a mess after talking about her father, and couldn’t keep power from her song. The sad melody mixed with the light of the moon causing an image to form next to her reflection. If anyone besides Istal saw it they would have noticed, It was a fairly old man with one blind eye holding an unusual spear like weapon. He wore a sadistic grin that would scare most things alive. Along with his weapon and grin the next thing to be noticed was a near artic blue green suit of armor with a raven sitting on his shoulder opposite of Istal.

*

Valkrik :

Darkness brings with it sleep for many a man. Only a few stayed awake to steer the ship homeward, one being Valkrik. To know Valkrik, you would understand that he does in fact suffer from insomnia. Why you might ask, would someone of such mental strength and drive be unable to close his eyes at night and sleep? The reason is in what he sees when he is sleeping. They say that our dreams are a way of our sub conscious letting us know of the spirit world, of the future, the past, regrets and passions. However, many messages are unable to be explained easily. There was however, a recurring dream. One…that haunted him when he had reached of age in his homeland. After a ritual, that had evoked spirits to come and pay their respects….one stayed behind. Like a dark ghoul, only it took the form of a creature that was revered by the Vikings. The very totem of the Ghar. A large black wolf.

Night after night, the young man would wander to the lake, and when he went to look at his reflection, it was the Wolf that stared back at him. Was it Fenrir? Why did it happen, every night? Valkrik remembers always waking up, bathed in sweat and with a rapid heart beat. Almost like it would explode from his chest. One woman whom lived in the port town and was seen to by many as very wise, was the Angel of Death. Similar to a shaman, or a female version. She helped conduct the rituals and sacrifices, so she was respected, but also feared.

One day, as Valkrik was returning from his sister’s hut, the Angel of Death stood in his path. She stared up at him with eyes of pure white, raising a bag that contained bones and rocks, and she shook them violently before him; crying out;

“I have SEEN HIM!…You know who I speak of …Son of Honrick. You cannot escape it…for he is your destiny! You are a danger to all that you love!”

From that moment on…Valkrik closed off his emotions, and became the man who Istal watched at the helm. A true lone wolf…who was guarding over the very people, he would one day feed upon.

Istal’s warning that he should never turn his back on a wolf had him stare at her…with the same hollowed look in his eyes that he showed to most. The next thing she did however, was to rise and sing a song, that would cause a grown man to weep, like he had just lost his love. The song however failed to move the Viking. The reason being….he had just sighted land.

They were home…

*

Istal :

Istal broke into tears as her song had finished and saw the image of her father in the water. She had dropped to her knees with her face in her hands. She was starting to wonder what brought her to that battle ground really as she had out right lied to Valkrik. She sat there for a few minutes completely motionless other then the small jerks of her chest each time she sobbed.‘Oh come on Father wasn’t that bad. sure he was tough on us growing up but no worse that what we had seen of before father.’ A small voice nagged at the back of her head. ‘Your wrong you don’t truly know what that past means to us Brigid, what he did to us would kill most, in fact you are the only reason it didn’t do the same to us.’ Istal thought back to the voice she called Brigid. ‘Oh you two stop your fighting or did you forget we are about to reach a Viking settlement. And if you can’t handle that Istal then I will take over.’ a third voice had threaten. It was with that threat that Istal and looked up and sure enough she saw shore. Though through tear filled eyes she really couldn’t tell how far away it was but still in sight.

*

CharlotteCarrendar

Below the mountains of Warfarren and seperating Stargorn from the rest of the world, the Fjords of Greyfell were the home of the Norwegian Fjord Horse. They were tended to by the village’s Quartermaster and only the best of the stock were given to those warriors deserving of one.

But it was what was going on in the Quartermaster’s hut that draws us here this day…

The fires in the pits were raging high, but as of yet there was no one to tend them. One would wonder where the man who tends them happened to be.

The answer to this lies upon a bed of hay and furs situated against the wall in the corner. Two naked bodies, pressed together a dance as old as time. The firelight shone off bronzed muscles, rock solid from the years of hard work. Calloused hands, dedicated to their work stroked across the delicate flesh beneath. A breathy moan, a heated sigh. Dark hair and blonde hair pressed against each other.

“Yesssssssssssss…” a deep male voice rumbled as the movements became rough. Nails scored deep marks down his back and he tossed his head up with a hiss of delight. His eyes, as blue as the ocean, met those of the woman who lay beneath him, as he grabbed her leg in a fierce grip and pulled it up over her shoulder. Her cry of surprise at this caused him to smirk, his teeth gleaming in the darkness of their bed of sin.

He was rough, but she was rougher, flipping their bodies until she sat astride him. He laughed in delight, his large hands framing her waist as he pulled himself up to suckle at her breats as they bounced before him. She rode him to completion, their mingled cries scattering a few of the horses that had been grazing near the hut.

He fell back with a groan of pleasure, the delightful beauty still sitting upon him. He could go another round with her…once he got his breath back, but it seemed she had other ideas. She removed herself from him, going to the water trough to clean herself. It would do her no good to return home, smelling of him. She didn’t need to hear another one of her mother’s lectures on the proper decorum of a woman. They were not proper women for Odin’s sake! Of all the women in the village, she was the only one not treated like common shattel. Those who tried, found themselves cut off at the knees by her sword.

Eyyrs of Ghar was as proud as any warrior male…and she had a few heads under her furs to prove it.

She moved past the Quartermaster to grab up her garments and pulled them back onto her body, all while he watched. He frowned as he saw her dressing and sprang to his feet, walking behind her to pull her against his body, ready to go again. She elbowed him away from her and glared.

“Come on, love. One more.”

“Get those devilish thoughts out of your head, Soren Thorfinn. I have no need of them.” Eyyrs stated.

“When are you going to settle and become my wife?”

“Never and I’ll thank you to never speak of it again. I will be no man’s shattel.” she snapped. It seemed as if every time she and Soren were together, he put more and more pressure on her to become his woman. Not if she had anything to say about it.

“But I love you.” he added. Quick as lightning, the tip of her sword was at his throat and there was the look of murder in her eyes. He gulped.

“You love the thought of having me. That is not love. If you wish to keep your head on your shoulders you will never speak to me again.” she glared. Sheathing her sword, she stalked from his hut, whistling for her horse, Vor. As she was settling herself onto the back, the sound of the horns chimed in the distance and her eyes lit up with delight.

“Valkrik!” she whispered the name of her brother, gone for many months. He was now home. Kicking the sides of her horse, she charged back to the village at breakneck speeds, dodging rocks and trees with an agility that surprised most men when they saw her.

Horse and rider pushed their way through the crowds gathered on the village streets, mothers yanking their children out of her path when they saw her coming. She spotted the boats and urged Vor to go faster as she spotted the top of her father’s head upon the docks. He was laughing at something before he stepped to the side…and then she saw him.

“VALKRIK!” she cried, jumping off her horse at the dock’s edge and running toward her brother, a grin upon her face.

Valkrik’s eyes shifted through the sea of people, and then he heard his name being cried out, by a girl; no a woman who jumped off a horse and was running down the docks to see him. Could this be his Eyyrs, his little sister. She had grown up in the months he had been away, and looked as radiant as ever.

As she came into range, he took four bold steps, before picking her up by her waist and spinning her around. He laughed as he set her down, only to grip the edges of her hair and pull her head to his, where he pressed their foreheads together as a show of affection. It was a little rougher than you would expect from a man like Valkrik, but this was no ordinary girl, this was his dear sister.

“Look at you, Eyyrs. Grown tall through the spring. You even have breasts. HA!”

Oh he was going to pay for that no doubt, teasing her about her appearance. He would not dare allow another man to say such to his young sister, but he thought he could get away with it. He took out a small pouch, and then handed it to his sister. It contained a beautiful necklace that had a jeweled stone set in the metal disc. Sapphire in colour and dazzling, he smiled a toothy grin, hoping she liked it. Many women in the tribe would be gouging out eyes for such a trinket, especially to be given by the Chief’s own son.

“Don’t say…I never bring you nothing home.”

He watched and waited for her to put it on.

One of the towers that was near the dock blasted a horn to sound that a foreign whistle sound had been heard. They had company, probably traders from the mountains. Today was going to be a busy one for the Vikings of Stargorn Bluff.

<3>

~WHACK!~

That was the sound of his sister’s fist connecting with Valkrik’s nose; sending him tumbling to the deck bleeding. That damned girl just decked him right in front of his crew, and snorted about being left behind. What the devil got up her skirts to even say such a thing? As she marched off up the dock, Valkrik was quick to push himself to standing, before wiping away the trickle of blood that was running free from his nose. Some of his crew laughed at the antics of the duo, but Valkrik was not about to stand for being made a fool of in front of his crew.

The Viking broke into a run, chasing off after Eyyrs, only to catch her up and lift her up onto his shoulders in a manouvre that would be akin to a caveman getting a woman. Sure, she might kick, slap and bite as he carried her along, but he was about to teach her a good lesson about the place of a woman in their society. He continued to carry her up till reaching her own small house and kicked in the door, marching her in before throwing her down on the furs in a heap.

“YOU KNOW PERFECTLY WELL WHY YA DON’T GO TO WAR!” He roared at her, shaking a fist, with blood shot eyes. He normally had a sense of humor, but after the last few months, it was safe to say that he had a lot of pent up aggression. Valkrik had to reign himself in….and he snorted at her. “You need a good fuck!” Truth was…he did. And with that, he stormed out of her house, before things got….complicated.

Further up the path, one of the village lovelies that had her eye on Valkrik for some time came out of her house, and gasped seeing him with a bloody nose. She tried to urge him into her house to “treat him”, but he just growled, and kept on his way up to see his Father and the council. For some reason, the idea of just laying with any woman at this moment, was right out of his mind.

<3>

Njada Horses

Tagor was making a good profit on his horse sales, and though he didn’t show his pleasure by grinning like some fool, he at least paid respect to the traders who gave him good price. One of the buyers; a very wealthy merchant had been looking forward to the Njada warriors coming to the town, and in their honor, he was going to be throwing a massive banquet. The celebration would include much food, wine, and of course entertainment, such as oiled wrestling and exotic dancers from the Spice nations. Always something for the men to look forward to before the long journey back to the mountains.

Sheikh Mustaf, who was one of the wealthiest men in the south lands handed over great leather bags of coin to Tagor and his brother, before gesturing with his hands about the spectacular feast. It would be starting around four, at the cliff side hotel that was one of the most expensive in all of Tsumal.

The invitation accepted, Tagor turned to finally seeing Jamai and his new slave; who had been dressed in a garment far more suited to her skin and bodily curves. Not only that with her hair brushed and free from her face, he was able to get a better look at what he had just spent two horses and a bag of silver on. Least to say, he still believed he got a good deal

Walking over to the pair, he spoke in his own tongue. A deep and rich accent, that sounded like a bear growling out words, but so husky that the female might find it very attractive and masculine. Jamai understood and then he told the slave what his Master said.

“Master approves. You are to be made ready to sit with him at tonight’s feast.”

That said, he simply joined his men and started to walk back to their own horses, and head off to the hotel where the festivities were to begin. Tagor mounted his horse effortlessly, giving llyra a sideways glance, before walking the horse down the street.

<3>

But she found herself desiring this one…

That made him dangerous in ways she never thought possible. And she was at his mercy.

Jamai returned to her side after they finished speaking.

“Master approves. You are to be made ready to sit with him at tonight’s feast.”

Her eyes widened. She could not have heard that right.

For the first time, she spoke, her voice low and melodious, bringing her head up to meet Jamai’s gaze.

“I am but a slave and do not deserve to sit in such elegance. Surely he is mistaken on this.”

Knowing that Tagor did not like to be kept waiting, Jamai tried to hurry IIyra along so they could keep up with the procession of Njada riders and servants that were heading to the Kharmhar Hotel grounds. The new slave was actually questioning the Master’s choice to have her treated higher than she believed her station required. She had been a slave to some terrible master in her time, so this would have caught her totally off guard. Jamai frowned at the girl’s admission and spoke in a low tone so as not to get attention from the other servants, who may well pass this juicy piece of gossip along.

“Never question the Master. You do not understand the Njada, they are different from the like of the Slave markets. Proud and noble horsemen of the mountains. They live in a cruel environment, and are realistic about the frailty of human existence in such climbs. They treat women differently. Some say they are crueler, but I know different. When a Njada takes a soul mate, regardless if she be slave or free, they are the future bearer of Njada sons.”

As they walked along, IIyra would be able to see her Master, riding proudly in the saddle of his steed, looking as though he was a King among men. His long hair bound in lashings of leather, that went down his bronzed back. He did not speak or gossip as he road, determined to see his people up to the hotel, to be honored guests of the Sheikh.

“You…are very lucky. Master’s last woman died in child birth. He has not taken another….till now.” Jamai became quite serious at this point. He was in awe of his Master, and knew him very well. “You be good to please him, and the rewards can be plentiful. Even…taking off your binds.”

Ah yes, he knew exactly what IIyra was, and that her magic had been bound. From here he walked on silently, to let her ponder what he had told her.

<3>

LadyBelz

Ilyra hurried to keep up with Jamai as Tagor’s caravan moved to the hotel to partake in the celebrations. She was so confused by her new Master. Jamai moved close to her and spoke in a low tone so others would not hear and spread idle gossip about their Master’s newest aquisition.

“Never question the Master. You do not understand the Njada, they are different from the like of the Slave markets. Proud and noble horsemen of the mountains. They live in a cruel environment, and are realistic about the frailty of human existence in such climbs. They treat women differently. Some say they are crueler, but I know different. When a Njada takes a soul mate, regardless if she be slave or free, they are the future bearer of Njada sons.”

Jamai’s words served to confuse the young elf even further and she nearly tripped over her own feet thinking about his words. She looked toward the front of the caravan where Targon rode tall and proud upon his mount, his hair rustling in the wind like a reed in a pond.

“You…are very lucky. Master’s last woman died in child birth. He has not taken another….till now…You be good to please him, and the rewards can be plentiful. Even…taking off your binds.”

Ilyra’s eyes widened in shock. She’d never once thought about having children of her own. Being a slave…such things had been denied to her and she had wondered on more then one occassion if it was the bracelets preventing her from becoming pregnant. She’d been pawed over numerous times since they were forced upon her and not once was there issue.

Was it possible? Would she finally be free? Well as free as she was able beneath the house of her Master.

Or was this all some dream and she would wake to find herself under Belial’s cruel thumb once more?

Once more she found her gaze drawn to Tagor and to her shock, found him staring back at her. Eyes wide and face red, she looked away from him, wondering if she would be punished for looking at him. She trembled slightly, finding that she was beginning to find him pleasing to her eye. She looked up at him once more, beneath her lashes to see that he hadn’t stopped looking at her. She gave him a small smile before glancing away.

Already there were much celebrations in place with a band playing welcome music to the caravans of the Njada, who rode through the stone gates, with large banners lining the road. Such colour and festivity would be completely surreal to the slave girl of Tsumal. The Sheik himself was already in the large outdoor grounds seated under a large tent, and being waited on by scantily clad slaves. His many wives were in his presence, all covered from head to foot in silks and only their eyes showing. In the centre of a ring, the oil wrestling had commenced, with many taking bets and the shouts of the crowd were filled with awe and excitement. Tagor and his men all dismounted from their horses, with young boys taking the reigns and leading the horses to stables, so that the Njada could go and take their seats.

This was the moment that Jamai had waited for, and he placed a hand on IIyra’s arm. He brought her close and said to her ear.

“Wait till he is seated and served drink. Then I give you the word, you are to go and take the cushion at the right of his feet. You are to sit on your knees, and keep your hands behind your back. You are not to look at other men of wealth. You may watch the entertainment however. You are to be dutiful, and silent.” Jamai let her go and then he went to where the other Njada servants were, to start to help with the distribution of food and drink to their Masters. Now, IIlyra may have thought this would be a good time to make an escape, however, the gates were heavily guarded, and many eyes were watching.

Tagor took his seat on a fur covered chair, that gave him front row to the action with the oiled wrestlers. Behemoths of men, that grappled and were highly skilled. A young boy brought him his drink and bowed politely as Tagor took it. This was the cue. Ilyra needed to make her way to his side and take her place. Her first public showing. Would she make him proud, or regret her purchase?

<3>

Tagor kept a keen eye on the wrestlers. Both men that were in the pit, fierce and determined to break the other first. It was a sport after all and one that Tagor found favour. Their bodies gleamed with sweet and the rubbed in oil, and at one point, the man from the south had gone for an ankle grab, and tore it up, taking his opponent off balance, and thus winning the fight. There was a large roar from the crowds, as a judge held up the winner’s arm, the loser looking like he had broken something. No doubt he would be punished later by his Master.

A large tray of foods, sweet meats, fruits and sour dough was brought along, and Tagor took a bowl at his left side, filling it and then passed it down to be placed in front of Illyra. He himself only took a handful and then waved the boy away, before looking at IIyra as he ate a morsel and nodded for her to do the same. She dare not disobey, as the next act came on. Exotic dancers, a group of about ten, that took to the ring, whooping and shimmying to the sound of native drums. Wearing large head dresses of feathers and beads, their breasts uncovered but painted with bright colors, they started mesmerizing dances, that had some of the Njada men practically ready to rut the ground. The beat of the music was fast tempo, and the clapping in the crowd grew. Some of the dancers broke away and sat on the laps of the wealthy men, gyrating and bouncing in a fashion that was like lap dancing.

One dancer approached Tagor, but he put his hand up before she could get close enough to sit on his lap. Dejected, she went to move for another wealthy Master, a much older man, but nowhere near as good looking as the Njada leader. Tagor reached down behind IIyra’s neck, and started to work his fingers, like he was massaging the back of her neck and lower part of her head. He did this as the dancers were finishing their routine, almost like he was enjoying it but wanted to touch a woman intimately as the show went on. Tagor looked down at Ilyra again and there was something in his eyes. He didn’t smile, but his face was showing no hostility to her. If she looked up at him, she would surely get a surprise.

As the dancers finished their set, they all moved through the crowd, and started to pick men that they would give favor too, some Njada started to rut the dancers right then and there. Music continued to play, as the pit dissolved into something of an orgy, with much laughter, screams and cries of passion. For Tagor, he did not want some ordinary dancer, nor to use one of the Cheif’s dancers. He had just bought his new woman, and he wanted to experience her for himself.

Rising from his chair, he nodded for her to follow, and head for the Njada camp that had been set up within the walls of the ceremony grounds. The largest tent belonged to Tagor, who entered it first, with two servants allowing IIyra to follow.

If she entered she would find herself within a simply astonishing room, that had the ground lined with furs of all sizes, burning candles and incense pots, large jugs of wines and foods, and statues of horses and other trinkets that had been brought from home. Tagor would be taking off his large leather waist decoration and his leather gauntlets as IIlyra entered, Seeing her, he removed his sandals, and then walked to her as she stood with head bowed. He walked around her slowly, before coming in behind her. His large hand drew away her hair and let it flow down one shoulder. His calloused fingers moved over her own scarred flesh, and yet he did this like he was trying to tame her. His experience with horses was second to none, and he was treating her as though she was his prized stallion.

Tagor growled something in his own language, as he undid the ties of her dress, so it would fall to the floor at her feet. He was now naked in behind her, and the heat of his body would easily be felt across her own. If Ilyra had remembered Jamai’s words, that Njada men could be cruel, but he knew better, he may have been speaking about Tagor. If he had, he was right. For all his size and his power, he was in fact incredibly gentle towards Ilyra. Lulling her into a false sense of security perhaps? One has to remember, that the women are seen as the ones to bare their sons. So, technically, she was no longer a slave, only down in this part of the world was she viewed as such.

The horseman then turned Ilyra around, and brought his hands up to her face, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks, and then gliding his hands down from her neck, to shoulders, and then to her ripe breasts. How he loved a woman’s breasts. Being that she was slightly smaller than he, he picked her up suddenly under the buttocks, and pulled her up so her legs would wind around his hips, and her own sex was right over his engorged head. Tagor stared at Ilyra’s eyes before his face buried between her breasts, slowly pulling her down onto him and holding her there as he feasted on the sweet curves all the way up to her left nipple, that he suckled hungrily. Slowly bouncing her effortlessly upon his cock. She may have never experienced this before from a Master, but he was one that liked to enjoy his women. His lips worked up to her neck, as he walked her towards the furs, where he would go down on his knees, one at a time, then lay her down on the soft fur cushion mound. Lording over her, he continued to rock his body, filling her with his girth and his fists pushed into the fur either side of her. His animal like grunts escaped his lips as his eyes bore into hers. He was truly enjoying her and wanted to see her in full bloom.

Tagor rolled on his back, and pulled her over so she was straddling him. Gazing up at her expectantly, he wanted to see her ride….her stallion.

<3>

Was this hers? She’d never had a meal so extravagant before. She stared at everything, hunger gnawing at her insides as she carefully looked at her Master. He grunted something and waved a hand at the bowl in her hands – a sign she had his permission to eat. The poor girl was so starved, she could have easily resorted to animal savagery as she ate. But she was brought up with dignity and manners and she put her mother’s teachings to great use. She picked carefully at a slice of orange, slipping it into her mouth and chewing slowly and carefully. The explosion of citrus across her taste buds was nearly her undoing and her eyes closed in delight. She continued to eat her meal slowly so as not to be sick, enjoying everything that was before her.

The exotic dancers came to the floor and the music changed in tempo. Some of Tagor’s men were whooping and cheering as the scantily clad women performed for them. The crowd around them clapped along with the music as some of the dancers broke formation to sidle up to the Masters around the floor, dancing for them alone. One such woman moved in Tagor’s direction and Ilyra bowed her head, not wishing to see the woman do whatever she wanted without punishment to her Master. It was not her place to be jealous of whomever he dedicated his passions to. Something else she’d also learned. There was another of those grunts from him and she looked up to see that the dancer had moved away, a disappointed scowl upon her face. She looked at Tagor from the corner of her eye.

Who was this man?

She looked down at her bowl of food, reaching for a grape when she felt calloused fingers against the back of her neck. She froze, and her breath hitched in her throat. Was she to be punished now? Would he choke her before the eyes of everyone around her? She wondered what she’d done to displease him already and felt the sting of tears in her eyes, which she quickly blinked away. She thought she had been well-behaved and obedient.

Though his hands were large, his touch was gentle and comforting and she found herself becoming all the more confused. She was so off-balance with him…and it was only the first day! She turned her head to look at him once more, scared of what she would see. And was surprised once again. There was no anger on his face, as impassive as a brick wall…but there was something in his eyes…

It unnerved her like nothing ever had before. Her face heated under his gaze and she turned away, staring at the bowl in her hands. She set it aside, no longer hungry.

The dancers finished and moved through the crowds, bestowing their favors upon the available men. A few of the Njada chosen rutted with the women right there in public, to the cheers of those watching. The festivities descended into chaos, orgies cropping up all over the pavilion as passionate cries and laughter echoed from all corners. The Sheik had sent all but one of his wives back inside and he was currently rutting with her against one of the poles, her cries of passion echoing around them.

Ilyra gulped hard as she listened to all this, not daring to bring her gaze upward any more.

A movement beside her caught her attention and she was startled when he wrapped a hand around her bicep and hauled her to her feet. He nodded his head to their encampment that had been set up on the grounds and started to walk away, his long stride eating up the distance. She scrambled to follow him.

Tagor’s Tent

She could easily pick out his tent as it was the largest and he went inside, holding the flap open for her to follow. Her hands clasped together tightly, she entered the tent and stood in its center, getting a good look at the opulence. It wasn’t rich by any means, but it looked comfortable. The ground was lined with furs, comfortable and soft beneath her feet. Candles were lit on every available surface and there were more trays of food and little things, most likely from his home, that gave the place a lived-in feel.

A noise caught her attention and she turned to see Tagor closing the flap on the tent, tying it securely against the desert winds. She was now completely alone with her new Master. What was in store for her?

She bowed her head and remained in place as he turned toward her. There was a rustle of sound, but she didn’t raise her head to see what he was doing. She more then sensed when he approached her, his bare feet appearing to her eyes for a brief second before he moved in behind her. His large hand reached out and brushed her hair aside over her left shoulder. Her heart was pounding fiercely in her ears and her hands were visibly shaking.

His hands brushed over the skin of her shoulders and she squeaked in fright, fearing the worst. But he remained steady, simply running his hands over the scars that could be seen as if he was waiting for her to become used to his touch.

“Calm down, you silly girl. He is your master. He will only hurt you if you disobey.” her subconscious mind berated her. This voice had begun to pop up in her head shortly after her magic was bound and she found herself listening to it more often then not. Slowly, she began to relax beneath his hands as her mind continued to tell her to be calm and obey.

She was nearly calm once more when he grunted behind her and she found the ties of her garment loosened, the gauzy material slipping from her body to pool at her feet. She wanted to cover herself, her hands twitching to do just that, but she’d been in this position before and remained still, though she was trembling from head to toe, emotions off all sorts crashing around in her mind.

She gasped, thinking about Jamai’s words to her earlier that day. “…They live in a cruel environment, and are realistic about the frailty of human existence in such climbs. They treat women differently. Some say they are crueler, but I know different. When a Njada takes a soul mate, regardless if she be slave or free, they are the future bearer of Njada sons.”

She felt the heat of his body against her back and her eyes slipped closed, praying that he wouldn’t hurt her. She had been hurt for so long, it was all she expected nowadays.

Her eyes snapped open when he turned her to face him and she found herself caught in his heated gaze. His hands came up, smoothing over her cheeks. He ran his large hands down her neck, across to her shoulders and down to her breasts where his hands remained for a time. He stared at them, squeezing and pinching and making her hot all over. He seemed to be fascinated with them, much to her shock. She’d never had this much attention paid to her body.

It seemed to be a day of firsts for the elven slave girl.

His hands moved around behind her and grabbed onto her bottom, making her squeak. She grabbed at his shoulders, admiring the smoothness of his skin for a brief moment before she found her smaller frame hauled against his rock hard body. Her feet dangled above the floor and there was only one thing she could do to keep her balance; she locked her thighs around his waist. Her quivering sex was directly over his hard shaft, open and ready for him to take what he wanted. His heated gaze pinned hers in place for a moment before he lowered his head, burying his face between her bosoms just as he lowered her body onto his thick shaft.

And was he huge! She felt as if she was splitting in two, his girth spreading her open farther than she ever thought possible. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as he pressed into her, but the slight pain of his entry was offset by his mouth covering her left nipple, suckling hungrily. He did not thrust into her right away, giving her time to adjust to his size. The sensation was indescribable. She couldn’t help herself as she moaned throatily, her inner muscles throbbing around him. He was so much bigger then her previous Masters. Of that she had no doubt.

Another first.

He seemed to sense when she was ready for he began to bounce her upon him. Never before had a Master taken her so quickly and in such a way. It was as if he was thinking of her pleasure first, instead of his own. This had never, ever happened to her before. Her previous Masters used her for their own lusts, leaving her aching and wanting on more then one occasion. She had to make do with her own manipulations when she was alone on her pallet in the slave’s quarters.

Tagor was stripping away all her preconceived notions about what a Master was supposed to be.

A particularly hard thrust against her womb had her seeing stars for a moment. His lips were at her neck and still within her, he turned and walked toward the furs, where he slowly went down to his knees. He placed her upon her back and bent over her, rocking his body into hers, his fists planted on either side of her head. He grunted as their bodies writhed together, his eyes pinning her in place and she could see he was enjoying what she had on offer. Did she have the same look in her eyes?

Becoming daring, her hands reached upward, pressing against the hard pectorals of his chest, her pale fingers standing out against his tanned skin. Being out of her homeland…one would have thought her own skin would darken over time. But her blood…the blood of the Winter Elves would not allow that. It was why she was such a prized possession among her former Masters.

She was startled from her musings when Tagor rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so that her small form straddled his bigger one. This had the distinct advantage of not only allowing her some control, but it spread her legs open wider and pressed him deeper. Her mouth dropped open and a long drawn out moan issued forth, husky and deep. But she didn’t know what to do now. She’d never been in such a position before. She stared at him in confusion as he looked at her in expectation.

This was so new to her in ways she never expected. She trembled over him, wishing there wasn’t this language barrier between them, wanting to know how she could please him.

“I-I wish you could understand me.” she whispered as she sat astride him. “I don’t know what to do. You are so different from my previous Masters.” In answer, his hips thrust upward between her thighs. She gasped again, her eyes sliding closed as her hands pressed against his chest to steady herself. This move brought her hips upward a slight bit of their own volition and she remained suspended there for a few moments before her legs grew tired of remaining that way and she sat back.

Her gray eyes flew open in surprise at the sensation this caused.

“Quar’valsharess Dumo Uns’aa!1“ she gasped, staring at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.

Quote:

1″Goddess Bless Me!”

Hearing her call out as she gasped due to the sensations Tagor was creating, he actually smiled. He couldn’t understand her at all when it came to English, but he could read body language very well. Unusual for a slave to not know this position. Maybe she had only ever been taken on all fours. That didn’t matter. Her hands were flat to his chest for stability as she made her first hip roll. It was a start. Gently, Tagor forced his pelvis up off the floor, so she would find herself rising and then the rolls would become more fluent.

“Dashaaaa.” (Good) He actually made a sound like word, that meant he was pleased she was moving in the right way. There was nothing more beautiful then to watch a woman ride a horse, and to have Ilyra ride him in the same fashion was equally as erotic. He reached out with both hands, and pressed them to her bosom, kneading them as he pushed up again. What she should find was that their bodies would start to move in unison. There was a drum beating in the distance, that came from the ceremonial pit, and Tagor started to use this drum beat to time his hip movements. He growled in a deep throaty manner and closed his eyes as she could feel his head get deeper into her womb. He had every intention of making her pregnant, one way or another.

After she got the hang of riding him, he pushed his torso up, cradling her in his arms so their faces were but inches apart. Men as a rule do not usually kiss their slaves. Kissing was seen as extremely intimate, but then again this was Tagor. A man among the horsemen of Njada who was not only a horse whisperer, he knew how to treat a woman that was to be his. He never had scores of slaves, only one woman. He had high standards, that they be clean and well kept, and subservient. Ilyra was most certainly being treated to the most erotic love making she had ever endured.

Tagor slowed his movement, and with his dark eyes he stared at hers, and then did the unthinkable. He kissed her…he started at her chin, and worked his way up, to cover her lips, as the couple were now fully locked together. He broke the kiss, and uttered…

“Miarra…” (Mine)

<3>

He said something in his language, but she had no clue as to what it was. It sounded like an approval to her and she gave him a tentative smile in return. His hands left her hips and pressed her breasts, kneading them as he raised his hips beneath her again. She bit her lip and brought her hands up from his chest to wrap lightly around his wrists. Her head bowed back as her movements became more fluid, going by some instinct she never knew she possessed.

A drum began to beat somewhere outside the tent, a low and throbbing beat that resonated within her. He used this to set the rhythm of their bodies as they ground together. He growled low in his throat, the vibrations moving from his body to hers and she cried out once more. He began to press deeper, so deep in fact she imagined she could feel him in her stomach. Unbeknown to her, she began murmuring to him in her own language.

“Jabbuk…ji bwael…dos phuul ji izznarg…morfeth uns’aa satiir saph j’nesst!” (Master…so good…you’re so large…make me feel like woman!)

Her body took on a life of its own as she rode him, her moans coming out in her melodious voice. Then he decided to change the game.

She gasped when he moved, sitting up beneath her, his face inches from her own. His arms snaked around her back as he slowed his movements beneath her. Surprised by this, she could only stare at him, wondering what was happening between them. That intense gaze…dark and sensual…Her heart was pounding fiercely within her breast.

She nearly went cross-eyed as his face moved closer. She felt the press of his lips against her chin and her eyes slid close. This was an intimacy she’d never been subjected to. Her hands squeezed gently at his forearms as his lips moved upward until they covered her own. She squeaked again as he kissed her.

When he drew away from the kiss, he spoke a single word.

“Miarra…”

On some deep level…she understood what that meant. How this was possible, she hadn’t a clue.

But she realized then…it seemed her days of being treated cruelly…were at an end.

She was his. He laid claim to her body and there would be no letting her go.

She placed a hand against his chest, directly over his own heart.

“Dossta” (“Yours.”) she nodded. She didn’t know if it would have been appropriate to return his kiss and so she waited expectantly, their bodies still locked together.

The sound of the arrow whizzing through the air was totally unexpected and the fact it slammed into the head of the assailant, that Lucas had just unmasked, shocked Kyoko greatly. These people were so keen to keep their identities a secret, they were willing to kill each other if they had to. Kyoko released her captured breath, and fell back slightly after releasing the dead man’s hand. Lucas checked over the corpse, and was able to get some valuable information from his clothing and his face. They were humans, and this particular one wore the clothing of a Wyvern rider.

“Bringing Wyvern here would be too obvious, its no wonder they were on foot.”Kyoko said, now aware as to why they were watching Lucas and Kyoko in the first place. The Crown Prince needed to know about this breach in security right away. Course the way back meant carrying their gliders, so it would be about thirty minutes to make it back. With her glider secured, she followed along behind Lucas, who knew the way back better than she did. He complimented her on her defense against the now dead Wyvern rider. Kyoko blushed slightly since she knew he was probably going to put it on report too. This wasn’t exactly how she expected her first day out to be like, so she had to wonder what Kazu would say.

“Thank you, I just wish we could have brought that man in for questioning.” Kyoko really wanted to know why the spies were in the capital, and if this meant they were after the royals.

<3>

Lucas

Kyoko’s perceptive abilities were very good for someone who wasn’t born in Desnonia. Wyvern were large and boisterous creatures. Kyoko was right; bringing them along would have drawn unwanted attention to the humans. Lucas nodded his agreement and reassured her of their inability to bring back a hostage.

“Not to worry. We probably wouldn’t have gotten anything out of him anyway. The humans are a proud race who will do anything to please those they happen to serve. The one I fought let themselves be burned alive before being captured.” As they conversed the time fly by quickly. They were approaching the city gates and two sergeants stood on guard and cleared them for entry. The large wooden gate rose slowly and Lucas ducked under it before it had gone all the way up. He followed the winding main avenue and made a left when they neared the base. Judging by how long they had been gone Lucas knew he was going to get in some trouble with Kazuhiko. “Just a head’s up… Kazu will probably be furious when we return.”

Carrying the glider up and under the gate, she followed Lucus up the winding main avenue, and then left when they neared the base itself. They had been gone for sometime, but had a very good explanation for this. When Lucus said, that Kazu would be furious when they returned, Kyoko simply shook her head.

“But he entrusted me into your care, and we were doing exactly what was expected of us. You were showing me the gliders, and then we stumbled on the invaders.” Kyoko said freely, setting down the glider as soon as they got close to the Arsenal head quarters. Kyoko wasn’t even sure if Kazu was back yet, from dealing with his pressing matters as yet, since she couldn’t see him.

Kyoko placed her hands on the base of her back and stretched, after walking back all that way. It’s little wonder that gliding was so much easier, than walking one back. Straightening, she looked around and asked.

“So, do we wait outside, or go into the headquarters?’

<3>

Lucas’s revelation that Kazu was falling for her took her by surprise. It was hard to read him at the best of times, since she had only known him for less than 48 hours. Lucas though knew Kazu for far longer and would have had a good sense to pick up on how Kazu was feeling, especially about Kyoko; his intended bride.

When they did enter the room, Kazu was angry, and Kahue sat in the back ground looking totally smug. Kyoko braced herself for the outburst to come, and it did, though it was more aimed at Lucas if anything. Lucas did a fine job of explaining just what happened, and in good detail, to which Kazu listened to silently, till then letting rip that Kyoko could have been hurt. But wasn’t that always a risk as being part of the Arsenal? People die.

Lucas’s apology was curt and swift, whilst being respectful, and all though this Kyoko remained silent. Something just seemed a bit off. The two men shared a look, and Kyoko couldn’t quite determine if they were still mad or not. She dismissed it, when Kazu rounded on her, and said that she had been approved for the aptitude test. Kyoko nodded politely, and then when asked if they could discuss it over lunch, she happily agreed.

“Lunch sounds great, Kazu.”

She had gotten out of the habit of calling him “your Highness” as she settled into being part of the Arsenal. Time would only tell if she truly fit in.

<3>

Kazuhiko

The sun shone brightly in the sky and the air was warm as Kazuhiko walked beside Kyoko on their way back to the castle. The citizens of Albisas, consisting mostly of Nephilim and witches with small amounts of the other races, went about their day completely unaware of the breach in security. Kazuhiko was worrying, a feeling he tried hard to avoid. It was obvious that something ominous was on the horizon as the humans rarely traveled outside of their territory. Since the founding of Albisas, they had stayed clear of the area, but suddenly they were keeping tabs on the Nephilim.

In his distraction, Kazuhiko barely noticed when they made it back to the castle. He glanced over at Kyoko and tried to clear his head. Lunch was always served around the same time everyday and unless she was busy, Kazuhiko knew his mother would be dining in the grand hall with a handful of the ladies of the court. They mostly gossiped and he knew they would be watching the couple closely. He didn’t want to subject Kyoko or himself to that kind of torture.

“If you trust my sense of honor, we could dine in my apartments. My mother is a wonderful woman, but she is conniving to no end. She will try and talk me up to you and I’m not prepared for that kind of embarrassment,” he said hoping Kyoko wouldn’t find his request too forward. 

Such a change from the mornings adventure with Lucas, to now be walking back with the Crown Prince to get some lunch. She was well aware that he wasn’t happy that Lucas and her took so long on their trips with the gliders, but the information they did get on the intruders would surely help the Arsenal in their investigations and beefing up security. Kyoko’s hair at the front was a little windswept, after her flight, and she kept reaching up trying to rake it back. But it seemed to have a life of its own, and in the end she just shrugged and went with it.

Kyoko thought they were going to some grand hall to eat, with the other royals, but it seemed that Kazuhiko had other plans.

If you trust my sense of honor, we could dine in my apartments. My mother is a wonderful woman, but she is conniving to no end. She will try and talk me up to you and I’m not prepared for that kind of embarrassment,” 

Kyoko could see where Kazuhiko was coming from. No doubt having the Crown Prince and his future bride dining in the same room as the Queen and her hand maidens would cause a right stir with many questions being fired off, meaning that getting a chance to eat in peace was practically zero. Kazuhiko’s suggestion that they dine privately in his apartment was met with a reassuring nod.

“I think it would be a top idea. I am not ready for the inquisition from your Mother just yet. I still feel like I just got here, and everything is happening so fast.”

It was true, that Kyoko was feeling a bit rushed, and the adrenalin that she felt surge through her whilst gilding, only added to it all. Peace and quiet conversation in Kazuhiko’s room sounded like heaven.

“After you, Kazu.”

<3>

Kazuhiko liked how agreeable Kyoko was. She seemed to not mind any of his suggestions, but he knew there was still definitely the real possibility of making her mad. His whole life he had grown up around seemingly difficult women. You could never tell what his mother was up to and his sister was quiet and brooding most of the time. Factor in the most snide woman he had ever met, Kahue, and no wonder Kyoko seemed like an angel by comparison.

He led the way quietly to his room and opened the door letting Kyoko go through first. There was a nice sized dining room off of his living quarters with windows that stretched from floor to the ceiling and a door on that left led out to his balcony where he sometimes sat and enjoyed the warm breeze. He told Kyoko to relax while he went to inform a servant of their lunch plans. When he returned he sat at the opposite side of the dining table and smiled nervously. What did women like to talk about anyway? He wasn’t quite sure, so he went the safe route and talked about the upcoming test she would be taking the next day.

“The test tomorrow has three parts. The first part will test your knowledge of the Air Brigade, which could include but is not limited to history, procedure and battle strategy. The second part will test your glider skills; how you handle the glider and your aptitude for glider assembly. The last part will let you showcase your combat skills in a one-on-one fight,” he said as he stood to get them both a glass of water. All of the talking was making him thirsty. “Tomorrow will be a long day and it will probably feel like you’re back at the academy, but I have complete faith that you will rise to the challenge.” 

Kyoko entered the open planned dining room that were off Kazuhiko’s living quarters. The windows were open and allowed a simple warm breezed to circulate and giving off a a very relaxing space. Keeping her hands behind her back, she tapped the back of her right hand on her left while watching Kazuhiko go to inform a servant that he and his intended bride would be dining in his room. This gave Kyoko a moment to tour the dining room, and look at the family portraits as well as the ornaments that adorned the cupboards and shelving. Not long after leaving, Kazuhiko was back and he moved to the opposite end of the dining table, taking a seat. Kyoko followed suit and sat herself down, looking at the Prince expectantly for him to start the conversation.

Thankfully, he decided to broach the subject of the written part off the testing, along with showcasing her combat skills in a one on one fight. This part had Kyoko smile broadly, reaching for her glass of water and taking a sip. If there was one thing she truly enjoyed, it was getting her hands dirty and fighting with them. Though many that met her in the last few days would suspect her to be a trophy bride to the Prince, they were all in for a terrible shock.

“Kazu…would there be any chance that it is you that I go up against in the one on one fight?’

<3>

Kazuhiko watched Kyoko closely as he spoke, looking for any signs of apprehension. If there were any to be found she hid them very well. When she asked him if he would be the one she would fight tomorrow he raised a brow, impressed with her deductive skills. Who better to evaluate a prospective member of the Arsenal than the current members of the Arsenal. “You really are quite clever, Kyoko,” he said trying out addressing her informally.

“The Arsenal is responsible for testing its new prospective members. Lucas will administer the written portion of the exam, Kahue will test your glider abilities and yes, you will fight me one on one.” In truth, Kazuhiko was excited to go up against Kyoko. Lucas wouldn’t have rung her praises if she wasn’t truly talented. His days had been boring as of late and a little action was in order. “There is a bit of a running tradition the night before the test to set the prospects at ease. There is an underground nightclub that is run by the witches. It is very high tech; loud music, drinks, shimmering lights… y’know, the works. You are not obligated to go, but it’ll be fun and Lucas and Kahue will be there. And of course I will be there.”

He waited for her answer, realizing he was dominating the conversation. There was a small knock at the door and a servant came in with their meal. It was a gorgeous looking set up of fish stock, potatoes mushrooms and mauh mauh. Kazuhiko loved the taste of fresh seafood and it was all he could do not to chow down like a savage.

“I have…a date.”

“Awe….can’t I stay and watch you go out?”

“No…you can’t.” That said, he knew he wasn’t going to get her to change her mind. Instead he strolled out, but kissed her forehead before he left. He smiled at her and said. “I will meet this Prince soon enough anyways. Then…I will have my answers. Laters.” And with that, he went off to find his own quarters. With Toshiro gone, she let out a huge sigh of relief and ran to get ready for her shopping trip with Kazuhiko. She showered and did her hair up in a loose bun, that has wisps that framed her face. She wore a day dress in a light cotton, blue in colour with matching shoes. Looking at her watch, she thought she might be late, and darted out the door, to meet the Prince in the designated spot. She only hoped he would be waiting.

<3>

Shopping might not have been the Prince’s strong point, but Kyoko was quick to find a dress and matching bag that would be perfect for the club. As she paid for it at the counter, she looked back at Kazu and said. “Shall we get a coffee before we go back?”

<3>

Soon a waitress brought over a tray with their orders, and sat down the cups in front of Kazuhiko and Kyoko. Kyoko paid for the coffees and then picked up her cup and brought it to her lips, blowing on it gently.

<3>

“Is this semi formal or formal for dinner?”

She was hoping for semi formal, but figured her chances were zip.

<3>

The last few minutes, Kyoko kept checking the clock. Her nerves had started up again, and she was trying deep breathing exercises to try and calm herself down. It was only dinner after all. Not like it would be the firing squad….or was it?

<3>

“Why do you use formalities, Kazu. You and Kyoko have been spotted together all over town,” his mother said nonchalantly. Kazuhiko cursed whatever cow hung around his mother who had spilled the beans. “I have taken a liking to her. She is a good, respectable woman, so please try not to scare her off,” he said standing up and walking back to the door.

“See you at dinner,” she replied not responding to his request. He shook his head and left her powder room. Regretting the whole affair, he went to meet up with Kyoko so he could escort to the diningroom.

<3>

“A sel’is’po lu’a illing…zah’har nau mzild…dro duul’sso…tlu duul’sso…zah’har nau mzild…nau mzild valbynae…nau mzild cruelty…ku’lam phor lu’tlu l’m'ranndii…y’teni l’sssiks…zah’har nau mzild…” (“By seed and by bone…suffer no more…live free…be free…suffer no more…no more bindings…no more cruelty…rise up and be the mate…raise the sun…suffer no more…”)

Within Tagor’s tent, Master and Slave joined as one. The grip at her hips tightened minutely as he jerked her down hard upon him a final three times. The third time, he groaned, pinning her in place, suckling at her breast once again. She felt him swell within her a moment before there was a pulsating warmth. Her head fell back and she cried to the heavens as she reached her peak.

“Usstan tlun elggor! Xal l’Quar’valsharess dormagyn uns’aa!” (“I am dying! May the Goddess save me!”)

Something quite unexpected happened as she reached her own orgasm…there was an itchy, spiky feeling that suffused her entire body that grew steadily worse the longer he pumped his seed into her.

She clenched around him tightly, as she experienced another gut-wrenching sensation and she cried out as a light glow, her magic, lit her skin like a candle. There was a snapping sound and the bracelets around her wrists snapped in two, falling to the ground with a light thud.

At the same time the glow was lighting Ilyra’s body, the Shaman woman’s cries of completion ended her spell, allowing for the bracelets that Ilyra had been wearing for 10 years to fall free. The Shaman collapsed beneath the Njada male behind her, breathing heavily, pleased that her spell had worked.

Free for the first time in over 10 years, Ilyra’s magic exploded within her, causing her to cry out in shock. The magical backlash she experienced, as her magical pathways regenerated and healed her body, mind and soul caused the poor slave girl to collapse in the arms of her Master, unconscious.

As she succumbed to the darkness…she sensed a second aura aside from her own. A tear slipped from her eye, as cool and bright as a snowflake. For the first time…she was to produce an issue from a union with a Master.

And that it was to be born of the man who freed her made her happier then she ever thought possible.

She could not return to her homeland. Tagor and his people…they were her people now.

Normally, Tagor goes to check on the horses first thing as the sun rises over the hills, but this day he continued to sleep. The day before had been filled with many highs and then the consummation of his relationship with IIyra. He didn’t normally bed down on the furs with women. Years past he sent them to a communal tent for slaves. But IIyra was different. Something passed between them the night before, and not just his seed.

Outside his tent Jamai was pacing back and forth, too scared to enter. This was so unlike Tagor. A few other men had not gotten up either to tend to their horses, and this was most uncommon. Jamai decided that the servants would have to put in the extra work load…at least for today. That in mind, he headed off to the stables, leaving the two guards stationed outside the Leader’s tent.

Back inside, Tagor was starting to stir. His eyelids opened, and then he felt the warmth of Ilyra’s body upon his. A smile creased his features, and he placed a kiss upon her head. This would be the first day of the rest of their lives together.

<3>

“That had been inside of me!?” she exclaimed within her mind, staring longer then appropriate. Movement caught her attention and the stroke of a hand down her backside made her bring her head up. Once again she found herself caught in Tagor’s dark gaze. There was a small smile upon his face as he stared at her, that she felt the need to return.

“Good Morrow, Master.” she whispered to him, unware of the fact that with her magic now free, they could understand one another. “Last night…was simply wonderful. I’ve never experienced such sensations before.” She then noticed her bracelets were missing and her eyes lit up with delight.

“I am free.” she stated in awe. Feeling brave, she pressed a light kiss to his chest in thanks for her newfound freedom. There were still some lingering aches from her magic being returned to her but for the most part, she was feeling grand. She gave herself a once over before something made her pause. She doublechecked…and discovered a second aura overlapping her own. Examining it more closely, her eyes went wide and the memories of what occured just before she collapsed flashed through her mind and she gasped, sitting up quickly beside him, a hand splayed over the still-flat planes of her stomach. She could feel the aura of the new life within her against her hand. She turned her head to look at him, eyes filled with wonder. “I’m to have a baby…”

She would be surprised to know that he understood every word she said.

He simply grinned at her, content, then left to deal with the horses.

Two young servants of the Njada came in, one carrying pitchers of water, the other with a bag of clothing and then they descended on their knees before Ilyra.

“Togar wants you clean and dressed, Ilyra of Njada.”

What would her reaction be?

<3>

“Tagor want more.” he grinned just before he pulled her into a hungry kiss. She gasped against his lips, allowing his tongue to slip into her mouth as he pushed into her once more. Her cries of passion echoed outside the tent, surprising Jamai as he waited outside. Tagor had never been with a woman for more than a night and it seemed this one was special to him in some way.

Inside the tent, he had rolled her over, moving down her body until his lips and tongue feasted hungrily between her legs. She cried out in shock, a whole new set of feelings crashing against her as he lapped at her inner folds. Her fingers slid into his hair of their own volition, gripping tightly as she rode the wave of passion. Limp and sated, she could barely function as he turned her over and rode her hard to his own climax, filling her to the brim with his virile seed, roaring with completion.

They were both breathless, shivering and trembling against each other, his forehead pressed against her back, an arm around her waist as they came down from their clouds of desire. He pulled away from her after some time and began to dress. She watched him, her naked body covered in the furs of his bedroll. He looked at her one final time, a grin on his lips, before releasing the ties on tent flap and stepping out into the light of day. She could hear his deep voice ordering Jamai to have servants come and help her clean and dress.

A short while later, as she was finishing her breakfast, two young servants entered, one carrying a ewer of water, the other a bag of clothing as they knelt at her side with a short bow. She frowned at this. She was as much a slave as they were. Why would they show her such respect?

By claiming her as his, Tagor had effectively announced her changed status as his mate and mother of his future children. She was unaware of this fact however, something the servants that had come to her were sure to inform her of.

“Tagor wants you clean and dressed, Ilyra of Njada.” the one on the left spoke. Ilyra’s eyes widened.

“Why do you call me such?” she wondered, genuinely curious. The two servants looked at one another in surprise.

“You do not know?”

“No.” Ilyra shook her head.

“You are first woman, slave or not, who has captured our Master’s interest since previous woman died trying to give birth to his child.” Ilyra’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“How long ago was this?” she wondered.

“Many moons now. Woman long gone to dust beneath the earth.”

“And the child?”

“Died shortly afterward.” the servant on the right stated. Ilyra pressed a hand to her lips, saddened for her Master.

“Do not shed tears for Master, Ilyra of Njada. You are Tagor’s woman now. Bear him fine sons and daughters. Make Tagor happy again. We wash and dress you as befitting a mate of Njada.” Stunned with these revelations, she was subjected to their tender care. They washed her body with the finest of cloths, paying careful attention to her sex. He had been rough with her, but not too rough to cause injury but there was a lingering soreness. She would get used to that over time until it would no longer matter.

Once she was clean and dry, they dressed her in a free flowing gown of midnight blue that went beautifully with her skin and hair. It had no sleeves and draped in such a way as to show off her markings as a Winter Elf. Next they combed and treated her hair to scented oils until it glowed with a natural light, making her eyes stand out within her face.

One of the girls carried a small box, which she presented to Ilyra with a small bow. “As you are of Njada, you must wear this.” She opened the box to reveal a claw-shaped pendant. Etched along the side were protection runes.

“It’s lovely.” Ilyra nodded. The pendant was removed from the box and clasped around her neck and she was suffused with a sudden, familiar warmth. She touched a hand to it. “This is Tagor’s.” she stated with conviction. The servants shared another look.

“Yes. You will do, Ilyra of Njada, Elf of the Winter.” the young servant nodded. “Come. Master waits, for we begin our journey home. One day, one night we travel.” The girls waited for Ilyra to leave the tent before following behind her. It was something she wasn’t used to but she supposed she would have to, now that she knew what was expected.

CharlotteCarrendar

They would all find out soon enough.

As Illyra emerged from her tent, she was in full view of Tagor, who snapped his fingers and spoke in a dark tone.

“Bring her gift.”

A boy brought out the white horse and it was then paraded around in a circle as Tagor got up from his seat and walked across to the boy, who stopped and handed Tagor the leather reigns. Tagor then gestured to Illyra.

“Yours.”

One word…that meant so much. To give her a steed that she would be riding home on. Riding along side the leader of the Njada. It was more than an honor…more than privilege. It elevated her status to that which would be like a Queen amongst the Njada.

Many of the Njada whispered. The woman now looked stunning in her blue gown and claw tooth necklace. No longer wearing the binds of slavery. The slaves themselves were in awe. How had she managed to attain this and with the leader of the Njada no doubt. It was sure to be the talk of the people as they prepared to head home later in the day.

<3>

A young boy brought forth a horse, pure white, it’s coat gleaming with a fresh brushing. She gasped in surprise as she walked forward. Tagor met her at the mare’s side and she looked at him as he pressed the reigns in her hands.

“She’s beautiful.” Ilyra whispered, brushing a hand across the mare’s neck.

“Yours.” Tagor simply said. There were murmurs and gasps of surprise around them as the full meaning of what he stated hit home. A simple slave had gone from warming their leader’s furs and slaking his lusts, to having a horse of her own and riding at his side. There had to be some kind of magic involved with this. A few of the Njada women were glaring at Ilyra with outright hostility. She ignored all of this in favor of gracing Tagor with a bright smile.

“Thank you, Master.” she stated. More whispers surrounded him, those within hearing range surprised that she still called him “Master”. And yet she did not wear the binds of slavery. What was going on? Had she truly bewitched him? Or was there something more deeper going on between their leader and the Winter Elf?

As he was easily taller than her, she had to tug his beard in order to bring his head down to hers so she could give him a light kiss upon his lips.

This silenced the women, and many of the Njada men urged them, and not in a nice way, to pack up the tents into the caravans to be taken back to the Njada homelands. With much gold and supplies done with the trade of the fabled horses, they were now ready to make their way back. Tagor’s black stallion was brought around by a small boy, who received a light head pat from the Njada leader, before mounting his horse, that was wearing the coat of the Njada leader’s symbol. He whistled loudly, for the procession of horses, men, women, slaves and caravans, to make their move, as the Sheik came out to wave farewell to his honored guests.

Riding alongside Tagor, Ilyra was at the height of Njada society. Only his brother had ever held such an honor, and never a woman. What Tagor had not considered however, was one of the usual rites that happened on the return home of the caravans of trade. When Tagor had in the past brought home a slave, his brother was one of the first men, to share the woman around. This was a time honored tradition, and one that Tagor had not even considered, when he found himself falling for the Winter elf. Surely when they returned….Marmut would want his turn at Ilyra. The question was…would Tagor allow his mate to be sexed by another man, even if it was his brother?

The great train of horses and caravan were underway for the two day journey home. Tagor rode with his eyes looking straight ahead, only ever now and then stealing a glance at Ilyra as she rode. When he did watch her, seeing the movement of her hips upon the saddle, it made his groin heat significantly. No doubt when they camped for the night, Tagor was going to want to have his woman ride him….as hard as she could.

<3>

He whistled loudly and the caravan began to move, The Sheik coming out to wave goodbye to them and reminding them to return for a visit as soon as they could.

The day was pleasant and the ride was smooth and Ilyra had not been blind to the looks she was receiving from Tagor every once in a while. She could feel him undressing her with his eyes and her face was in a constant state of flushed under his heavy gaze. She had a feeling she would not be getting much sleep when they made camp for the night. If she had been privy to his thoughts as he looked at her, the saddle rubbing against her netheregions would most likely have been an issue.

What she was unaware of…was the practice he had with his brother upon their return of sharing their slaves…

What would happen when they reached home?

“Will SMS Ishara be joining us this evening?” 

That was the first thing that Kazuhiko said when they got into the bicycle carriage, that was to take them to the Club that evening. Kyoko fiddled with her clutch and then took out the note that she had found in her apartment. She opened it enough so that Kazuhiko could see for himself that Ishara was joining them later.

“Yes, according to this note he left. I understand he will be there a bit later. He is always one for making an entrance.” Kyoko said quietly, folding the note back up again, and placing it into the envelope. She put it away quickly with a snap of her clutch, which she held with both hands. Kyoko had noticed that Kazu had dressed more semi casual for the evening, and she started to think maybe she was a little overdressed for this date. Would Kahue pick up on it, and tease her mercilessly? Kyoko didn’t know how she was going to take any banter from the girl tonight. Especially after the dinner party with Kazu’s mother.

The bicycle carriage ride was a pleasant one, and offered the chance for Kyoko to see the spectacular sight of the city at night. Such beauty in architecture, and this mode of transport, meant she could take in the cool night air, that cooled her down somewhat. In fact this was just what she needed. It calmed her in a sense, and she began to feel like she could get through this night, even if it was going to be cut short since she had her tests the following day. Every so often, she glanced at Kazu and offered him a smile, before going back to gazing out the side of the carriage, as they approached the club.

<3>

Kazuhiko, Lucas and Kahue

Kazuhiko helped Kyoko down from the bicycle cart and led her into the club. The Moss House was the premier provider of nighttime entertainment with bright lights and living walls. Upon entering you were left with a sense of euphoria, an effect the witches implemented through relaxation inducing mist. It was clear and tasteless leaving most people unaware that they were under its influences. Denizens of the club kept coming back without really knowing why.

Kahue and Lucas sat conversing with each other at one of the many tables set up around the room. Champagne sat chilling in a metal bucket in front of them. Spotting Kazuhiko and Kyoko, Lucas stood and called them over. Kazuhiko let Kyoko lead the way and took a seat next to Kahue so that Kyoko could be spared any backlash from Kahue’s anger toward him. However, surprisingly she seemed to be in good spirits. Kazuhiko wondered if she was drunk as he leaned forward to uncork the champagne. He poured four glasses until the medium sized bottle was empty and raised one to toast.

“To our new members… hopefully,” he said laughing and clinking glasses with everyone else. He drank a little letting his tongue get accustomed to the sweet fizzy liquid. The drink had a kick as if it were mixed with a stronger type of alcohol. The Moss House was the place to lose control, which was perfect for loosening up cadets who wanted to test into the Rise Arsenal. It was a notoriously difficult exam and not to be taken lightly, but nerves could get the worse of you just as much as being unprepared. A little booze and dancing would ensure a good night’s rest. Kazuhiko smiled at Kyoko. “I hope you can hold your liquior.”

There was an electric atmosphere to the club, with the special lights and fittings that gave off a kaleidoscope of colors that dazzled and entranced the patrons. The relaxation inducing mist coupled with the champagne that Kyoko was offered as she took her seat did help her relax slightly, as Kazuhiko went to make his toast. Kyoko raised her glass as did the others, then took a sip, before placing the glass down and folding her arms as she waited for Toshiro to arrive. No doubt he would be coming through the doors at any given moment, and was bound to cause a stir.

“I hope you can hold your liquior.” Kazuhiko said with a warm smile, to which Kyoko replied.“Well, I do have testing tomorrow, so I think I will go easy on it.” She knew that if she drank too much, she was bound to wake up with a killer headache and not be up to task for her testing.

Watching Kahue out of the corner of her eye, she noted that she seemed to be a lot more agreeable, perhaps it was the witche’s mist that did this, but who knew, maybe she just needed a night out.

Then right on cue, a dark voice was heard as a hand was placed on Kyoko’s shoulder, causing her to jump slightly.

“Hope I’m not late.”

It was Toshiro, dressed in a suit of all things and beaming at the group gathered.

“I’m SMS Ishara. But feel free to call me Tosh.” And so it started, with Toshiro taking a seat near Kyoko and then snapping his fingers for a waitress to bring another bottle of champagne. He winked at Kyoko, before extending his arm past her to shake the Prince’s hand.

“And you must be the lucky guy. I gotta tell you, Kyoko here is quite the catch. Hell, if it wasn’t for the fact she had been arranged to marry you, I would have put my cards on the table.”

<3>

Loud music played in the background as the group settled in. Kazuhiko respected Kyoko for her professionalism. She seemed like she was very serious about passing the test the next day, though he had no doubt that she would. Happy that his team seemed in good spirits, Kazuhiko sat back in his seat and relaxed. That was until Kyoko jumped in her seat next to him. A nephilim man in a suit who seemed to appear out of nowhere introduced himself as her Senior Master Sergeant. So this is the man, Kazuhiko thought to himself extending his hand to shake Ishara’s. Toshiro’s statement about Kyoko hadn’t been lost on him, but he chose not to show any sign of annoyance. “Kazuhiko.”

The man seemed rude and Kazu found his worry starting to ebb away. Toshiro didn’t seem like Kyoko’s type and he wasn’t sure he would make a good member of the Arsenal either. Would Toshiro be able to work on a team and not circumvent his authority? Kazuhiko sat back in his seat trying to unwind again while Lucas extended his hand to Toshiro. “I am SMS Lucas Dray. Nice to meet you,” he said with a small smile. Kahue simply nodded keeping quiet.

A female server came over with more champagne for the table. She looked slightly annoyed with being snapped at and made sure to place the bucket on the table as far away from Ishara as possible. “Enjoy your night,” she said and sashayed away. The lights dimmed as it was the hour for dancing. Kazuhiko thought about asking Kyoko to dance, but he worried about embarrassing himself. He took another sip of his alcohol and waited for someone else to speak. As if on cue, Lucas turned to Toshiro and began his usual smalltalk. “You ready for the test? It’s a doozy.”

Kyoko cringed as Toshiro acted out in front of her. Almost like trying to assert himself as someone important, when he hadn’t even been tested yet. He always was one that stood out, being crass and bold. Kyoko could only imagine what Kazuhiko was thinking, and she knew it probably wasn’t very good. Thankfully, Lucas interjected and introduced himself. Stretching out his hand to shake Toshiro’s, which he reciprocated.

“I am SMS Lucas Dray. Nice to meet you,” 

“Hey…how’s it going man? Wow…whose the pretty girl you got there?” He was of course asking about Kahue, and showing off one of his trade mark grins. The kind you would expect to see his teeth sparkle. The waitress brought over the bottle of champagne, clearly not happy that Toshiro had acted so rudely, but he just tipped her and uncorked the bottle with much flair.

Kyoko reached for her glass of champagne, and nearly skulled it down, before placing it on the table, then turning to Kazuhiko and asking.

“Shall we dance?’ Her eyes practically imploring him to take her up on the offer, while Toshiro chuckled behind her. “Save one for me, alright?” Kyoko didn’t answer him, getting up and holding out her hand to Kazuhiko, as Toshiro returned his attentions to Lucas.

“Am I ready? You betchya. Got this in the bag…and who knows, might jump rank while I am at it.”

He was indeed cocky, that was for sure.

<3>

Kyoko was so relieved when Kazuhiko took her hand, and she was able to lead him away from the oncoming dramas at the table, and out onto the dance floor, that was a sea of bodies, all gyrating to the beat of the music played by the witches. In the middle of the crush, it was a given to be dancing pretty close to each other, and when Kazuhiko reached for Kyoko’s waist and drew her in closer to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and fell into the dance rhythm that came naturally. Heady from the glass of champagne, and the feeling of being so close to Kazuhiko, without actually kissing, she felt the bond between them start to intensify. Maybe it was the witches mist that was starting to have an effect, but she started to smile as their eyes locked. He felt it too, he had to of. It was then Kyoko took a chance, and kissed Kazuhiko, letting her inhibitions go in public

All around them, the crowd was a melting pot of desire and sin. A seething mass of dancers, flesh touching flesh. The music was intensifying, and this only pushed the crowd harder. It was tribal like. Instincts awakened by the mist and free flowing alcohol available. But where would it lead Kyoko and Kazuhiko? It was clear now, that Kyoko had fallen for Kazuhiko hard.

Back at the table, Toshiro was watching the couple with a more serious look. So, Kyoko had taken to the Prince. The game was now truly on. Taking up his bottle of champagne and glass, he excused himself from Lucas, and sauntered over to Kahue, who had more or less given him the cold shoulder. Setting down the bottle at the bar, he mused;

“You got spunk, I like that in a woman. So…what’s the deal? Fancy the Prince? Bet Kyoko is giving you a run for your money. She just might pass the tests you know, and where does that leave you?”

He started to pour her a glass of champagne and pushed it towards her.

“Come on…you aren’t really an iron maiden are you?”

<3>

Something in the way Kyoko stared into Kazuhiko’s eyes caused him to come completely undone. No one had ever looked at him that way and even if somehow the mist was affecting his senses, he knew that the underlying feelings were very real. She leaned forward and kissed him and it felt nothing like the first kiss they had shared. There was no timidness or inhibition. He leaned closer and reached up and cupped the back of her head. His tongue slipped in and out of her mouth, exploring her buttons, figuring out what turned her on. He wanted to take her back to his room and strip her of the classy cocktail dress she wore so well. His excitement started to become unavoidably obvious, so he let her go, reached down and tried to discreetly readjust himself. He breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his raging desire.

To Kyoko

This is crazy. We just met.

Kahue sat at the bar nursing a glass of gin and tonic. Playing nice with Kyoko was starting to really irritate her. She had been the only female member of the Arsenal since it had been established and she hadn’t wanted that to change. Women could not be trusted. Her own mother had left her to be taken care of by her father. That fact was the cause of all of her pent up animosity. Casimiro had been her stabilizer, but after his death she had felt even more emotionally out of control. Kazu and Lucas had been patient with her and she was appreciative, but all of the new changes were just too much,

Toshiro buzzed around her like a fly asking her about what she planned to do about Kazu and Kyoko’s relationship. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. She had never been interested in Kazuhiko romantically. During their school years, she had found his overachiever mentality particularly annoying. It took a long time for them to develop the quasi friendship they had now.

She looked over at Toshiro with a disarming smile before going in for the kill. “You should probably leave me alone before I crush your nuts.”

Toshiro actually laughed as Kahue shot him a smile that was as though looks could kill. This girl was a virtual fire ball, and he couldn’t get over the fact she really had some balls. With a cat that found a new play toy, Toshiro couldn’t help himself. How much more poking would it take for the scorpion to strike? That is how he viewed Kahue. All that pent up aggression in this moshpit of sin. He leaned on the bar and pouted, as though mortally wounded.

“Oh love…the very thought that you are a nut cracker, totally turns me on. Let me guess, you do the whole nine yards of BDSM in the back room, with the likes of old Lucas McCrusty over there.” He gestured back at Lucas, who was now seated on his own. “Subs more your style, Kahue?” It was clear he was more than happy to get under her skin, even at the risk of her carrying out her threat. He cast a look over at Kyoko and Kazuhiko, who were now lip locking on the dance floor. This was getting good, and he was about to stoke the fire.

“Don’t look now, but that wily Kyoko is getting some more brownie points with your Commander. I wouldn’t be surprised if he took her back to his room, did the deed, and tomorrow she aces those tests.” He then made a daring move. Reaching out and toying with a lock of Kahue’s hair. “I bet you hate women that sleep their way to the top, huh, Chicka?’ His voice was so smarmy and vile, it was positively dripping in artificial sweetener. The right corner of his lip curled up and he leaned in to whisper to her.

“We could dance around here all night long…but I want what you do, and I am willing to do anything to get it.”

The Dance floor

The kiss was literally sizzling, and left Kyoko breathless as Kazuhiko pulled away to adjust himself. She looked at him, thinking she had gone too far, and then when he communicated to her mind, she was sure of it.

To Kazauhiko

I’m so sorry…I don’t know what came over me.

Kyoko then struggled to get through the crowd, and on reaching the table, she snatched up her purse all flustered. Her cheeks were red from embarrassment, and she apologized. “I gotta get out of here.” Kyoko then tried to find the nearest exit, before she did anything worse.

She stood out on the footpath outside the club, trying to hail down a bicycle carriage, to take her back to the palace.

<3>

The Table

Lucas had become the peacemaker between Kahue and Kazuhiko after Casimiro’s death. They had both reacted by taking their aggression out on each other. Kahue often blamed Kazuhiko for what had happened on that terrible day, but they all knew that it was a terrible accident that no one could have prepared for. Lucas looked over at the bar where Toshiro kept trying to talk to Kahue. He thought about getting up and telling the guy to back off, but Kahue was perfectly capable of handling herself. Not to mention, he would incur her wrath also if he treated her like a damsel in distress. There was nothing she hated more.

The Bar

Toshiro tried to play with Kahue’s emotions. It seemed like an entertaining game for him, something that he thrived on. At the mention of BDSM with Lucas, she laughed and took another sip of her gin. Try again buddy, she thought to herself. She had never been interested in Lucas either as he always tried to play the mediator and be an over achieving boyscout. Next Toshiro pointed out Kyoko and Kazuhiko on the dance floor making out, which didn’t really bother her either. They could do whatever they wanted with their lips. But the next thing SMS Ishara said did get to her. The thought of anyone sleeping their way into the Arsenal made her seethe with rage. She took back the rest of her drink and tried to keep her expression unreadable. When he reached for a lock of her hair, she grabbed his wrist and held it tightly in her fist.

“I am quite sure you have never known what any woman has wanted in your entire life and you most assuredly don’t know what I want,” she said as she stood, paid the bartender and walked away. “Don’t follow me.”

The Dance Floor

Kazuhiko stood there dumbfounded as Kyko sprinted back to the table to grab her bag. He wondered if this was how it was going to be between them. Would they spend the rest of their lives tiptoeing around their feelings and unknowingly offending each other? Not if he could help it. “Kyoko, wait!” he shouted over the music trying to get her to stop her beeline for the exit. She either didn’t hear him or ignored him and he ran after her trying to catch her before she caught a bicycle cart back to the castle. He knew that if she got away, he wouldn’t see her until the next day for the test and that there would be an awkward tension between them.

He ran outside the club and his mind instantly began to clear, the effects of the mist quickly wearing off. There was a slight chill in the early spring night and Kazu worried that Kyoko would get cold. She stood out on the sidewalk in front of him trying to hail a buggy. He reached up and gently grabbed her arm and turned her around.

“Kyoko, please just hear me out. I don’t regret anything that has happened between us. When I said ‘this is crazy’, it was to convey how unbelievably amazing it all is. What were the odds that we would meet and actually feel this way about each other? The reason why I pulled away was because I felt like I was going too far. If you could have seen what I imagined between us in my head, you would understand.” He stopped talking feeling like he had gone on forever. He hoped that his words were enough to set her at ease and let her know that he was falling hard for her.

The Queen may well have thought that Sirus was ready to be King, but from the moment she said that his father was calling to her to join him, he knew that his Mother was dying. He was no fool. Entering the room he noticed the pronounced shake in her body, the way she held up her hand to him and then when he cradled her in his arms, her body felt fragile. So very light and it was like if he had held her tighter, she might well break.

Sirus’s face was a kaleidoscope of emotions. He had just come home, and she was going to be leaving him. It was…just not fair. He had fought the wars for others, and yet the true battle was at home. Sirus kicked himself for being so petulant, and running off like he had. If only he knew…if only he realized why his Mother pushed for him to be King. To marry. It was because she was living on borrowed time. Like sands through the hourglass, there was only a very small pile of sand that had yet to fall through.

His eyes stung with tears as he tried to take this all in. Sirus knew of the love between his Mother and Father, how great a life they had had before his untimely demise. She pined for him for so long, and now he was calling to her, to be with him once more. The Prince felt like he needed her too. She was always his counsel. Always the one that made the world seem right when he had lost faith. He took up her hands, and brought them to his lips, closing his eyes tight as the first tears christened his cheeks.

“I’m not ready….I’m not ready to lose you.” He wept, finally opening his sea blue eyes and imploring her. “How can I be King…without you? You are the Queen, of my heart…of the people. They need you. I need you.” Sirus professed, the waves of devastation crashing in “How can I celebrate this night, when I know you will be leaving me?”

Sirus’s heart was breaking apart. and he lay his head down on her lap, sobbing uncontrollably.

<3>

Over the years, Sirus had watched good men die right before his eyes, and they did so for they fought for what they believed in. Their lives a sacrifice for the greater good. He knew and understood this, it was the cost of war. But to a man, a boy, a son…the thought of losing his own Mother, cut his heart in two. The little boy in him could not imagine a world without her, and the man needed her guidance so that he could have a brighter future. Now faced with the truth, that his Mother was admitting her own mortality, and that she had basically stayed alive this long just so that she could see her son fulfill the prophecy he didn’t know how to react, other than to weep for what he was losing. She tried to reassure him, with her comforting hand and words, but he found it difficult to see…through the many tears that fell. Men do not cry…isn’t that what they say? Bottling up their emotions till they finally are released through rage, or sorrow.

The crumpled and worn piece of parchment was handed to him, as he sat up and tried to wipe away the stray tears that continued to fall. His face was now blotchy and eyes red rimmed while he sniffed and tried to compose himself. So this was written about him and his lady Tempest? Hard to believe the scribes could see so far ahead, especially from the day of his birth.

He believed in fate, and had played his part in this game. But was he able to stand before the royal court, all the visiting dignitaries and smile, when he knew that sitting in behind him would be his Mother, who could fade at any given time?

He glanced up as his lips parted and he coughed another cry, rolling in his lips and closing his mouth trying to stop the well of sorrow. Arianna spoke of Tempest, and while he knew in his heart she was the one for him, he was still to caught up in the thought of losing his mother.

Was this night to be a ball, a wedding, a coronation, and a funeral…..all in one?

Sirus rose to his feet, and knew he had much to think about, to prepare for. In his current state he felt useless to his Mother, for he was an emotional wreck.

“Please forgive me….I need some air.”

He crumpled up the parchment, letting it fall from his hands as he walked out of the room.

<3>

Tempest had a trying day. She had been called to the Queen shortly after lunching with Klaus and had been told the truth of the Queen’s long illness. She had been heartbroken for Sirus and had tried to encourage Arianna to tell her son the truth, but the woman was just as stubborn as her son.

She had gone for a walk, to think on the things the Queen had told her and found herself at the juncture of a beautiful riverbank, filled with dozens of gorgeously colored flowers. With a sigh, she sat herself among the fragrant petals, staring out at the water.

Flashback…

“You sent for me, Your Majesty?” Tempest curtsied upon entering the Queen’s personal chambers. The woman, who was sitting at her writing desk, looked up with a smile.

“I did, yes.” Arianna nodded, setting down her quill. “Please, sit.” She pointed to a small table near a window that had a small tea service set up.

“I don’t wish to keep you from your work, Majesty.” Tempest replied. Arianna looked down at what she’d been doing before Tempest’s arrival.

“Invitations to Sirus’s Coronation this evening.” Arianna stated, moving to sit with Tempest as she poured them some tea.

“He’s nervous. He doesn’t wish to disappoint you.” Tempest explained.

“He’s never disappointed me. I don’t know why he thinks such things.”

“He is but a man, My Queen. Prideful creatures, to be sure.” Tempest chuckled. Arianna laughed, a high, melodious sound like sunshine on a cloudy day.

“You know him so well, My Lady Tempest.” Arianna smiled. “And that is why you are perfect for him.”

Tempest, who’d just taken a sip of her tea, set down her cup with careful movements. “How do you mean?”

“I shall not mince words. I am not long for this world. I maybe have a month, at most a week or two before I will join my husband once more.” Arianna stated. Tempest’s eyes widened. “I would like to see the two of you married before I go. I know you love him and will make him very happy. I have seen the way you look at him when you think no one is watching. He needs that. Now more than ever.”

Tempest looked at her, sadness warring with anger in her eyes. “Does Sirus know?”

“No. I have not told him. I was hoping to put it off for as long as possible.”

“You must tell him, Majesty. Soonest the better. He carries your words to heart, calls upon your council often. Even when we were traveling, he would talk nonstop about you and your wisdom. He shall not hear this from me. It is not my duty to do so.”

“No. It is better this way. He need not know.”

“Then you do him a grave disservice by keeping such news secret.” Tempest scowled, getting to her feet. “Tell him.” She turned on her heel and left the Queen’s side without a by your leave. She had missed Arianna’s amused smile as she left.

She hadn’t meant to lose her temper at Sirus’s mother…but it was the principal of the thing. At the time Sirus was speaking with his mother, learning of her impending death, a sharp pain went through Tempest and she clutched a fist over her heart, gasping. She knew exactly what it was. She closed her eyes, trying to reach out to him through the slight bond she could feel between them.

“Oh Sirus…I feel your pain, beloved. But your mother has waited a long time to rejoin your father. Do not prolong her own pain. Be happy for her, love her until her last breath and continue on in her name. And know that I will be by your side for however long you wish me to be.” she whispered, her words carried away upon the wind.

Emerging from the castle, the Prince walked unsteadily trying to come to grips with the news that his Mother had given him. He had stopped crying, but the dull ache in his chest only grew larger and he actually was finding it difficult to breathe. The words of his mother in trying to comfort him were eating away as he knew that what she said, was done so to try and cushion the blow of this most terrible news. He didn’t know what was worse. Knowing she was about to die, and not being able to stop it, or the fact that he had to go and put on this…facade to everyone at a ball in his honor. How could he smile, and greet people, when his heart was in such a terrible place. Was it selfish of him not to want to have to present himself publicly or even be crowned while his Mother was in her final hours?

He walked on, stumbling on a misplaced cobble stone and then righted himself as he looked to the River of Tsuana. Some days he went there to just think, and at this point in time, he had a lot to think about.

As he walked down the winding path, he suddenly heard a strange whisper that the wind was carrying in the air. Floating towards him with a slight echo. The voice he knew of course, but….why was she saying these things?

“Oh Sirus…I feel your pain, beloved. But your mother has waited a long time to rejoin your father. Do not prolong her own pain. Be happy for her, love her until her last breath and continue on in her name. And know that I will be by your side for however long you wish me to be.” 

It was Tempest. How did she know about his Mother?

He started to run towards the direction of the voice, only to come through to a clearing near the bank, and see Tempest there. Sirus slowed as he saw her, and frowned. Not out of anger, but confusion. Had his Mother told her before she even told him the truth about her dying?

He just stood there…unable to speak.

<3>

She didn’t know what to say to him, now that they were face to face. So she just spoke from her heart.

“I know…about your mother.” she stated, wanting to get that out of the way as soon as possible. It would most likely make him angrier then he already was, but she trudged on. “She didn’t want me to say anything to you, she even got it into her head to not tell you at all. I told her that would be wrong for her to do that, especially to you. You deserved to know the truth.” She looked down at her hands, resting in her lap. “But Sirus…do not hate her for keeping it from you for so long. Sometimes a mother’s love, can be too strong. And sometimes…it’s not enough. My mother was lost to me a long time ago…I just refused to see it until it was far too late. She didn’t know how to properly show me she loved me, always running away from such emotions when it came to her only child. And when Lucian was born…it was as if I didn’t exist to her anymore. She doted on him constantly, especially when he began showing signs of magic. I was pushed to the side and belittled by her the moment I was able to speak.” She gulped back the tears gathering in her eyes. Even now, a year later, the abandonment of her parents and the death of her brother still hurt. “She wasn’t what I thought a mother should be.”

She turned her head a fraction and looked at him.

“Your mother has been there for you your entire life. Loving you, supporting you unconditionally so that one day, you would rule your people with the kindness and wisdom she herself bestowed upon you. Though I think it selfish of you to want to keep her here…I understand the sentiment of it. But I am seeing things from her point of view. A bond such as hers with your father was never meant to be stretched so thin. The longer she remains, the weaker their bond. It is her time, my love. And you must be brave for her and wish her well on her journey and know that she will be with your father once again.”

Having said her piece, she turned away from him, unsure how he would take her words. She could very well lose him this day, a fact that pained her immensely. She loved him, to be sure, but this…his mother’s death…was something that he needed to come to terms with on his own. She did not know how to further council him.

Tempest knew…she knew everything. Not only that, she was about to give her own insight to the situation while he just stood there, already reeling from his own mother’s words. His expression was stony faced, but at least this time, the tears did not fall. The more Tempest spoke, the more the anger started to fill him. It turns out that it was Tempest that told his mother to finally let him in on what was really going on.

Tempest begged him not to hate his Mother for keeping it from him so long, but he didn’t hate her at all, he simply was hurt that he knew that very soon, she would no longer be there. Not be able to hear her voice, or see her radiant smile. He was fighting a war in himself, just as Tempest was trying to help him. He just wasn’t ready for this.

Next thing, Tempest was using examples from her own sad and terrible child hood, and the lack of good parenting that she got from her own Mother. How her mother pushed her aside for her half brother, and from the moment she could speak she was belittled and chastised. Sirus felt sorry for Tempest…he did, but this wasn’t helping him. He felt the burden increasing on his shoulders as they started to sag from the sheer mental weight.

But then Tempest said something that had Sirus’s jaw practically fall open.

“I think it selfish of you to want to keep her here…I understand the sentiment of it. “

Selfish? How on earth could it be selfish not wanting his Mother to die? Tempest’s words from that moment on were garbled, and warped, as he actually fell back. She may have been privvy to all that was going on in the Royal house, but how could she judge a man that had just been told of the impending death of his Mother? How could she….really know what he felt?

At this, Tempest turned away from Sirus, leaving him an absolute wreck. What was this? Did the whole Kingdom know about the fact his mother was dying, and he was too stupid to see it for himself? Now he was angry. His lips thinned, and he knew that if he did speak, the words would be tainted with the venom of rage that he felt. The two women in his life…that he had gone to hell and back for…it was almost like he was told to rejoice at what he was losing, and not be sad.

That was impossible.

He just couldn’t deal with this anymore.

“See you at the ball….Princess.”

Those were the final words. A man, shattered walked away from the river.

<3>

LadyBelz

On arriving back in his state room, Sirus was to find that the Queen had already gone to the trouble to have a suit specially made to honor this night as his coronation. Closing the door behind him, he slowly walked over to where the suit was hanging up, on a special stand. All the accessories, right down to the shoes, and royal sash. It looked as though the stitching was of golden thread, and the detail in the waist coat was intricate and fine. It was the most regal garment he had ever seen, and he had to wonder, what he would look like wearing such a thing.

He knew he had no choice now. The ball was in a matter of hours, and already there were carriages arriving from far off lands and realms. The city was abuzz with excitement. If only they knew at the center of this, was a man, who was destined to be King but not at all feeling ready for it now. What was worse was he was angry. Not just at himself, but he was angry still with Tempest. Of all the people he cared about, she knew the tragic secret. As Sirus drew his fingers across the embossed fabric of his jacket, he turned to gaze up at a portrait of his father. Painted when he was in his prime, he looked very much how a King should. Sirus could still remember the day when he knelt at his father’s bedside, and held his Father’s hand, watching the life slipping from him. He swore, he never wished to have to experience that again….but the time was coming where he would be watching his mother do the same.

[www.youtube.com]

Solemnly, Sirus started to get ready for the ball. If this is what was expected of him, he would put on the performance of his life. No one will know the sorrow that the young Prince feels…he will keep the stiff upper lip, for the sake of the Monarchy.

<3>

As Sirus was staring at his father’s painting, a small wind swept through the room. But he was too deep into his anger and sorrow to sense it.

From the shadows, a lone figure watched, as he’d always done, as a young boy was about to take a large step into manhood.

He could sense the sorrow surrounding the child and wished there was a way to soothe his pain.

“Go to him. Reveal thyself and share thy wisdom.” A whisper, one he hadn’t heard since his death, of his beloved wife as she was a step closer to joining him once again.

Leifold, former King of Laegess, Husband to Arianna and Father to Sirus and his missing daughter Eve, made himself known to his eldest child.

“You’re mother was right, my son. You have never been alone.” he stated, appearing before Sirus in a foggy haze, insubstantial as smoke, but easily seen. There was an echoing quality to his voice, as if he were speaking from a great distance.

Celeste moved from about the cot and ran to the edge of the tub, although filled with grime and dirty salt water she pushed her hands into the water and splashed her face. The water dripped along her face and instantly cooled her off as she began to gather her thoughts of what had just happened. Rising from her kneeling position she brushed the water from her lips, eyes and chest; grabbed the blanket she’d kept on the cot and wrapped herself around image. Her eyes wandered over the morning sun as she looked out onto the sea. It was indeed a beautiful sight, although it wasn’t one of her particular favorites, it was magnificent in its own way.

Her prior scream was sure to reach the Captain, be he at his desk or up top on deck. She’d known it would reach him, he’d be annoyed; if but slightly. And of course he’d come check on her. None of these she’d expected to happen from her scream. At least not to the point of annoying him and forcing him to come check on her. Celeste felt helpless. Much like a child, grounded to stay indoors. Her golden brown hues gazed out into the ocean blue as she wrapped her arms around her, to stay warm, to think straight. Anything to keep herself from having to relive the nightmare she’d just had.

Lost in thought she found herself becoming accustomed to the sea as the waves brushed along each other and the side of the ship. Then, a knocking; no, a rapping at her door was heard.

It was the Captain. But of course, who else could it have be? she thought to herself.

“I say…everything alright in there?” Derek had asked. Celeste blinked and turned her head a good 50 degrees to the right, looking over her shoulder as she spoke softly to the somewhat concerned Captain.

”Yes…” She responded while just now noticing the tears streaming down her face. ”Come in…” She spoke again, not caring to wipe her face then.

The Captain nodded and entered through the Cabin. His gaze kept towards the floor in case she’d played a trick on him and ‘wanted’ him to catch her in the act of changing, or worse; her being naked. But to his surprise and shock, she wasn’t. At least not at this moment, for when he looked up, all he could see was a sight of beauty and wonder. Why he began to feel this way, he’d not known. But he proceeded through the room and moved towards her, careful to keep a small distance between then so as to not trigger anything that’d frighten, or upset her.

I heard a scream, and well… to be frank, It startled my men, and they insisted I check on you. In the moment as his words left his lips he found out, he’d told a half lie to himself. He fancied her, and by looking at her in her distressed state he wondered how he’d let himself get so close to her… to anyone.

”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten anyone aboard. I gather I’m supposed to keep quiet, and stay silent; correct?” She sighed then as the tears silently flowed down her face. Her hand coming to brush a falling one that’d moved over her lip. ” But if you must know… it was just a nightmare.” She moved from looking out at sea, and then eyed him down. In the light of the morning sun, Derek was truly a sight to behold. His dashing smile made her skin tingle, his tossy hair made her heart warm, and his sudden concern not only shocked her but made her feel somewhat safer around him. He was, the epitome of an angel.

And just like that, to put a damper on things and make the mood more awkward than it was… she spoke one final time as she gazed into his dreamy eyes.

”My parents…” She felt her bottom lip quiver with fear as she gulped and continued to speak, the tear falling down her eye, over her cheek and towards her lips.“They died at sea…”

The Captain had been privy to many a tale, of how ships would set sail only never to return. It was one of the great risks that one undertakes when sailing out into the deep blue, and no matter how well prepared, or how strong a ship’s might; it can succumb to the sea, for its power is far greater than that of the wind alone. As a Pirate, one learns never to take the sea for granted, as many a fishing village does. It’s where the spoils and fortunes are won and lost, from a freak wave, to the swirling whirlpools that suck a ship to the very bottom. Giant squids, whales, and of course more fishy tales like Mermaids are common in folk lore, written and spoken about since the days when man first discovered how to sail.

The Captain sat upon one of the trunks, and watched the fair Celeste as she explained that her nightmare was the result of flashbacks. Her parents…died at sea. The Captain reached up and took off his hat, and placed it upon his chest, to show that his prayers were with the poor departed souls.

“And yet you cannot let go of your dreams and move on. The sea took your loved ones, and you have yet to come to terms with this.” The Captain said simply, before placing the hat back on his head with a light tug.

“Miss…death is part of life. It’s the next big adventure. I’d like to think that if you can remember your parents in the happier times, it makes the dark past fade into insignificance.”

He rose to standing, and then approached the girl, but instead of looking at her, he stared out the window.

“Your parents died together? If so, then that is how I want to go. With my lady love at my side, to travel with me to the other side….and be together for eternity.” Even though he had just lost his own parents, he still had a romantic notion of what relationships and death meant. He turned his head, staring down at the girl.

“My advice. When you are better rested, go to the top deck, right at the moment that the sun is about to slip from the horizon. At that precise moment, take off the necklace you wear, and throw it into the sea. My bet, that the spirits of your loved ones, shall receive this token…an offering, and help them move on, thus freeing you from your nightmares.”

<3>

The Captain had sat down upon one of the trunks in the room and watched her as she explained of her nightmare. The flashback of how her parents had died at sea. Her eyes wandered over him, trying to look for an expression of sorts and before long he reached up, removed his hat and placed it to his chest. A pirate thing, she presumed. He must have been showing that he cared for her enough to let his prayers be with her parent’s departed souls.

And as she watched on, his lips moved on their own accordance to his actions and the situation at hand.“And yet you cannot let go of your dreams and move on. The sea took your loved ones, and you have yet to come to terms with this.” The Captain had spoken simply before then moving to put his hat against his head as it was before.
She moved about the small cabin and tried to speak, but before doing so he continued to speak on.

“Miss…death is part of life. It’s the next big adventure. I’d like to think that if you can remember your parents in the happier times, it makes the dark past fade into insignificance.” Celeste pondered this over before then turning to look out the window, avoiding his gaze in total for not wanting to admit that truth; the one he’d spoken of. She feared if she had she’d just end up spilling a waterfall of tears before him once more. And she needn’t do that in front of the Captain; she’d already caused him enough stress as it was. For she, being the young woman she was; was a handful.

By this time the Captain rose to his full height, standing and then moving towards her. She needn’t look at him to know this, for she heard his footsteps draw near. And before he inched before her he turned his head to look out the window as she’d been doing before he entered.

“Your parents died together? Celeste gave a slight nod.

If so, then that is how I want to go. With my lady love at my side, to travel with me to the other side….and be together for eternity.” Her body stood still just then, no breaths taken, just a gaze. Her eyes to his, never wavering as she thought about what he’d said just then. And then everything resumed as it was. Her own lips quivering and then moving, parting ways and allowing air to pass as she then spoke to him; finally.

”Out of curiosity… what makes you want to—“ She stopped herself before continuing and then brushed the thought aside.

Derek turned his head to look at her and as a parting praise he spoke a final time.

“My advice. When you are better rested, go to the top deck, right at the moment that the sun is about to slip from the horizon. At that precise moment, take off the necklace you wear, and throw it into the sea. My bet, that the spirits of your loved ones, shall receive this token…an offering, and help them move on, thus freeing you from your nightmares.” His words, made sense, but were confusing to her all at once. A lot to take in from everything that’d happened. But she smiled to him and then moved her hand from about her arm to place on his shoulder if he’d let it. If so she’d brush his arm slightly and then ease him out of the cabin with her own final words.

”I will heed your advice, and think it over as I sleep once more… Honestly; thank you, I know I’ve caused you quite some stress and I need not cause you anymore, so please. . . just go. I know the sight of me must be a disgrace to everyone on your ship. It’s bad enough you’ve kept me aboard this long…” She sighed and took a deep breath before moving to the small cot, and laying down once more, her eyes finally trying to catch a night’s rest, one which she was sure she deserved and hope she’d get; this time around.

~Earlier on the hillside of the Pyre~

Nanny had had just about enough of the carry on between the Angel of Justice and the Knight, who seemed more intent on banging chests than actually doing good. They were so preoccupied with their fight, that they didn’t notice Nanny start to back away slowly, before finally turning, and making her way into the wood. She left behind the dead horse and the now empty cart of rotten food, and knew her passage to Haven should only now be a few short miles by foot. With the vial of Orion safely worn around her neck, and tucked within her bosom, she pulled back up the tattered hood, and followed the winding paths, that would lead her to Haven.

Haven Castle – The Throne room

In the Throne room of the Haven Castle, Clarice was still trying to come to terms with the enormity of her situation. A child Queen. Who would ever have thought such a thing? Derek was the true heir, or at least that is what Clarice believed. She knew how hard it had been for her father, for he was serious for many years, right up till his death trying to save her Mother; Metia.

Sighing, she plonked down on the floor and rested her chin on her upturned fists.

“I don’t think I am going to like being Queen.” Clarice said with a pout. Queens were grown ups, and Clarice didn’t want to grow up just yet. Rashna could see that the little one was not ready for the responsibilities, but she made it her duty to help the child cope with the changes. She crouched down on the floor beside her, and placed a slender finger under the girl’s chin.

“You know, Queens do fun things too.”

“Like what?”

“Well….they go to grand parties, and….dress up.” Rashna came up with that one out of the air, thinking that Clarice did love dress up time when she was kept at the safe haven.

“Can I take my turtle to the parties?” Clarice inquired, now starting to brighten up at the prospect of wearing pretty dresses and masks. The young Queen glanced up at Ira, who was smiling down at the child. She reminded him so much of Henry when he was young. Only, his brother lost his turtle in a stream when he let it go for a swim.

“But of course, your Majesty.” Ira said, now feeling more confident about Clarice’s reign over the Vaas lands. Clarice jumped up from where she sat and then pulled out her turtle from her pocket.

“You hear that, Tog. We can go to parties.”

Outside the gates of Haven Castle.

Very few people take notice of a peddler woman, or one that looked to be dressed in rags. In fact the thought that she might have leprosy, had guards and commoners alike giving Nanny a wide birth. Not to mention, she had driven that cart of rotten food all the way from the Brax lands, so it was safe to say she smelt worse than the back end of a donkey.

Passing through the gates, Nanny felt her heart swell, as she saw the grand castle of Angels. Her journey was almost complete, and the vial within her bosom actually vibrated and glowed fiercely. She was finally bringing it home. Passing by rows of guards and traders as she went through the town square, the chatter of those that went about their lives, spoke of a child Queen. In fact, news of the rise of Princess Clarice of Casterly to that of Queen had caused quite a stir. Many had expected Prince Derek to return, but alas, it seemed he would rather have his adventures, than serve his people.

Nanny actually clapped her hands with excitement. A child ruler, one that had not been tainted by the horrors of war and death, like that of her parents. Now more than ever, Nanny wanted to return the vial to its rightful owner. She hurried along the cobble stoned streets, till reaching the gates of the palace. Here, she knocked on the outpost door, and a guard came out, looking at the old woman oddly.

“What you want old Woman?”

From within her tattered cloak, she removed a piece of paper, that had the royal seal of Casterly.

“I come from afar, to return to Ira Casterly, the last writings of the King, Henry of Casterly.”

The Guard looked stunned, as he saw the royal seal, and knew that it could not have been fabricated. The document had blood on it, as though taken from his body, which it had been. He opened the gate, and then escorted Nanny towards the throne room.

The Throne room

As Rashna and Ira spoke with Clarice about her turtle, and what wonderful parties they would attend, there was a light breeze picked up from the balcony, which then became a blazing blue light. Down fluttered a messenger, who was little more like a fairy than a fae. She was wearing a powder blue dress, and the bluest of blue eyes. She bowed and scraped, and then with a tinkling voice, she chimed.

“Greetings, salutations, Hello and hello. I am Pya, the messenger of the Queen Arianna of Laegess. I come with an invitation to the Monarch of the Angels. We are having a ball tonight, to celebrate the return of the future King, Prince Sirus of Laegess, and word has it that he is to be wed, to Tempest of Brax.” She stood there beaming, as she handed over the scroll invitation to Clarice, and then fluttered out the window, only to vanish in thin air.

Clarice became excited. A ball. An invitation. A PARTY!

“Can we go….please?”

Ira and Rashna stared at one another. Tempest was the grand daughter of Henry and Metia, as well as the King of Brax. How was it she was to be married to a Fae Prince? This was all very strange, and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. There was a knock at the throne room door, and the guard escorted in Nanny, who looked about in awe at the gleaming white and gold room.

“M’lord, this lady said she has some document from the King Henry, asked to see you.”

Ira creased his brow, and crossed the floor, before Nanny bowed politely, and spotted the child Queen Clarice, who looked so much like Tempest at her age. Ira held his hand out for the document, and Nanny graciously handed it over.

“Tis not just the will and last words of the King…but there is something else. Taken from the hands of the Queen, who never used it.” She then extracted the vial of Orion from her bosom. It glowed fiercely and this was when she handed it to the child. “This was once in your hands, I believe that you were told, it could save a life, or take it. But it can do something even more powerful. Child, you will know when to use it. It will sing to you, and you shall see them once more.”

Clarice took the vial, remembering it from the day her mother was taken. She didn’t understand then, why the Brax hated her family so, but she knew Tempest loved them, and with the news of her wedding to the Prince of Fae, the child knew she had to go.

“Uncle, Aunt, may we take this lady with us to the Ball of the Laegess?’

Rashna and Ira thought for a moment, as Nanny looked confused. “Ball of Laegess? They are fae.”

“Yes.” Rashna said. “Tempest Brax is to marry their soon to be King.”

The nanny just stood there, then clutched her hand up to her heart.

“TEMPEST!” she cried, and then fainted onto the floor. Ira rushed to her side, and helped prop her up. The old Nanny was in shock. For all the time she searched, for the child of light and dark, that could bring peace to the realms, she was in the last place that Nanny ever thought to look. Her eyelids fluttered, and she stared up at Ira. “I was her Nanny, and I brought home the bodies of the King and Queen to the pyre, before coming here all the way from Brax. Please…please let me come to the ball. My one and only wish, is to see the child be happy.”

The decision was then made. The four would go to the Ball to represent Casterly and the Angels. What would Tempest say, to this most unusual family reunion?

<3>

(Thread change – Wintervine)

Estelle stopped dead in tracks, listening to Calypso’s words of confusion and apologies. She could not believe the girl simply couldn’t see the Knight for what he was. Spinning on her heel, she closed the gap between them and stood with her hands on hips. Pursing her lips as she fought with what to say without sounding rude, she had to inwardly count to ten, before letting rip.

”From the very moment he saw you, the man has gone out of his way….for you. From getting you out of that stinking gaol, to paying your way and buying you so that the guards would not take you back. I have never known any man to pay a fortune for a woman’s freedom before in my entire life. I think…NO, I know you owe him, but that rejection? Really? I would die if he even gave me any sort of look that he gives you.”

Ah, so Estelle had fancied the Knight from afar also. This was turning into a real triangle. Huffing loudly, Estelle then heard the cries of her patients, and she knew she had to go back to work. Using her index finger, she prodded Calypo’s chest.

”Do me…a huge favour. Sort yourself out. I don’t need idle hands when working on the sick. I want a level headed woman. Either you can help me with the sick, or you would rather go back to the Mountains…at this stage, I don’t care.”

Flipping her hair back, she went back on towards the med tent, while Sir Reginald watched on, fascinated.

<3>

The voyage thus far had been fairly smooth sailing, with the exception of course of the damsel known as Celeste who was suffering from her child hood nightmares. The course plotted by the Captain had included a stop over on a remote island, which had been rumored to be inhabited by a native tribe that welcomed Pirate folk. Whether this was true or not, Captain Derek was always good for an adventure. Not only that, their fresh water supplies were dwindling, along with fresh foods. Within a few days, the island was sighted, and the ship made its way for the bay, where it was a good place to anchor the ship just shy of the reef.

There was much fevered activity on the main deck, as the crew to go to the island was being picked, while the rest would remain on board, till time for a swap or a hasty retreat if the natives became hostile. The first mate approached the Captain, who was staring at the island through his eyeglass.

“Captain…are you going to give that lady a walk on the beach?” He asked, curious to know if he would dare take the woman to shore. “Depends, Smith. She might not be up for a bit of a trek. She’s not exactly dressed for it.” The Captain said, lowering his eyeglass. He thought for a moment, then shrugged.

“Can’t hurt seeing is she wants off the ship.” The Captain decided, before handing his eyeglass to the first mate, and making his way down to her cabin. Strolling along the corridor, he had to wonder if she was still asleep.

The Captain came to her door, and knocked three times.

“Miss….we have reached an island paradise. Care to come join some of the crew?”

<3>

Jason stirred slowly as he felt the bed shift with weight of Isabella joining him before sleepily wrapping her up in his arms and drawing her as close as possible. As they slept Jason would keep Isabella pressed up against his well sculpted chest with his hands loosely wrapped about her slender waist. The day passed by slowly allowing the loving couple some much needed rest together after a night spent playing games with one another. It was true Jason had become a vampire but would he ascend to become a full vampire lord on his first hunt? Only time will tell and well that will come soon enough.

By this time, Shane had clamored out of the water and was now drying himself off, watching the wolf that Carmen was stroking warily. He was never ever really fond of dogs, and wolves were not exactly something he had encountered before, not like this. As Shane got dressed, Carmen discovered that the wolf had been shot. Instantly, Shane looked around him, wondering if the hunter or hunters were nearby. It was no longer safe for them to be out at the spring, and Shane moved closer to Carmen, but not enough to spook the wolf.

“We’re going to have to take her to the cabin and get the bullet out.”

“Carmen…we need to get inside real soon, and I can’t see either of us being able to take a bullet out of that wolf on our own within an hour. I am pretty sure vets don’t make house calls out here, especially if we are going to be locked in that house, and asleep.”

It was obvious he was concerned for their well being, more so than the wolf at this stage.

“We need to get a move on.” He urged.

<3>

Isabella was the first to stir, as the shutters across the manor all started to open, to reveal the night sky with a full moon. The Vampire Queen stretched and gave a little yawn, before her eye settled upon her sleeping Jason. She pursed her lips and chuckled softly, knowing that tonight would be his first taste of human blood. Oh she had plans for him alright, and with a little help from her friends, she would make it a night he would remember. His arms were around her loosely, and she drew in closer to him, so he could feel the press of her chest to his, and she kissed his shoulder softly, before withdrawing.

“Rise and shine…it’s sunset/”

Isabella crawled out of bed, and slipped on her black robe. There was a lot she wanted to do to Jason, but the truth was, she needed to feed, and the cravings were getting so, it was starting to hurt, though she hid it well. Gesturing to his closet, she said.“Get ready, Love. I am taking you to a wonderful little club, where the drinks are free, and the entertainment is mind blowing.” Isabella blew a kiss, before sashaying out of his room, and heading to her own to get dressed.

There would be no dinner made, and Luther was no where to be seen. This was purely Jason’s night, and Isabella wanted to make sure that nothing would spoil it.

Isabella got dressed up to the nines, in an off the shoulder red cocktail dress, that truly brought out her eyes, and wore her hair down; flowing in an abundance of natural curls. The dress accentuated her figure, and with matching shoes, she looked a knock out for a night on the town. Snatching up her matching clutch, she sung out to Jason.

“Time to take your baby for a spin” By that she meant his favorite car. She had the directions down pact, of where she wanted to take him. A club called, “Jackson’s Tits & Ass Show.” Run by a long time friend of Isabella’s, she was allowed a VIP room, where her every whim and desire was catered for. Tossing Jason the keys, she would follow him down the stairs to his car in the garage, and slide in beside him. As he started the car, she would purr.

“You are going to just love this, Jason. I promise you.”

<3>

Jason stirred feeling the bed shift yet again before sitting up with a groan before slowly shuffling from the bedroom and into his master bath where he stripped down to nothing as he turned on the scalding hot water. Once he had scoured his body with hot water and soap he would step out of the shower and walk to his closet to rifle through the clothing that was doubtlessly stocked there. Silent as a wraith he would dress in a pullover black in color along with matching black Khaki’s before selecting a black leather jacket. He would then don a pair of a black loafers after slicking back his hair for the night Isabella had planned for him. He would then walk from the room after Isabella before entering the garage. Once in the garage Jason would chuckle before raising his hand to catch the key’s Isabella tossed him only to slip into the driver seat and key the engine to life, which produced a deep throaty rumble that Jason happened to love. The young Vampire would then put the car into gear before driving out of the garage and tearing down the road towards where ever Isabella wanted to take them. After ten minutes driving time which was mostly spent doing the speed limit which happened to be seventy miles an hour he would pull the dodge charger r/t into a parking lot having followed Isabella’s direction to the letter. Jason would step out of the car before darting over to be a gentlemen and open Isabella’s door for her as well as help her out. They Had arrived at a club called “Jackson’s Tits & Ass Show” which caused Jason to raise a brow in question as to why they had come here.

The music was pumping through the speakers, creating a wall of sound, as Jason led his Queen of the Night; Isabella into the club. This club was chosen for a very good reason. Run by a man known as Stan Jackson, he was a long time associate of Isabella’s and always provided her with a good night’s entertainment. He instantly spotted her as she entered the club, and made his way through the crush of patrons, before sidling up to her and smirking. Stan shot a look at Isabella’s new sire and said loudly.

“Isabella…you look gorgeous as ever. I take it you want your VIP suite?’ He air kissed the diminutive diva, before snapping his fingers, as two burly bouncers came over, to escort the couple to one of the back rooms. Isabella threaded her arm through Jason’s and nodded towards Stan. “I want the everything on the menu, Stan. Jason and I are…really hungry.”She licked her top row of teeth before giving a dark laugh, as Stan bowed and said. “Have I ever let you down?’

The two bouncers escorted the couple through the club, till coming to a series of doors, that had frosted glass panels either side. You could see from each one that there was some pretty hot sex shows going on within. The strobe lights flashed and illuminated the patrons, and if one took the time to notice, many looked…pale. Was this club exclusive to Vampires?

The door was opened, and Isabella walked in first. There was a large curved black couch in suede in the room, with a large table in the middle, complete with pole for the pole dancers, and then to the side, there were straddle cubes, with straps for locking down your “entertainer” and having your way with them any way you wanted. There was also a harness swing, as well as bottles of lube and clean towels, plus a silver trolley, that had glass decanters filled with blood.

The door closed on the couple and left them alone, as Isabella threw down her clutch, and rounded on Jason. She purred as she placed her hands on his chest and then said.

“Now…I want you, to completely let go, of everything you have ever felt and thought. Let the beast out tonight.”Isabella kissed his lips sensually, before pulling back, and making her way around the table, to take a seat in the middle of the couch, as she waited for the first course to arrive.

Right on cue, the door opened, and Stan led in three of his latest dancers. A guy, who was a dark blonde, wearing just a thong, and two girls, a red head, and an Asian girl with long flowing hair.. The music changed out at the DJ booth, and Stan bowed before Isabella, before leaving the room. The red head went for the pole, and began to do an erotic routine, while the man walked around to stand in front of Isabella, and begin to do a private dance for her. Edging closer, he would straddle her, and try to place her hands on his chest. This made Isabella chuckle, and throw her head back, as the game was going to be very easy. As her head came back up, there was a golden glint to her eyes and she stared directly into the stripper’s eyes.

“You shall feel no pain….” Her voice a whisper, but she was cooing towards the dancer who became mesmerized by the Vampire queen. She licked her lips, as she used her right hand to bring a claw down and scratch a huge line into the male’s chest, as he gyrated, letting a nice flow of blood run down his torso. Isabella became like a kitten, and started to lick the blood from the man’s wound, as he groaned in pleasure, unaware this was just the start. She planned to take so much more.

<3>

Jason raised a brow watching the sensual dance as the red head bobbed and weaved on the pole. This of course caused Jason’s blood to literally sing as he kept the beast under lock and key for the moment. Slowly his restraint began to slip as he watched the Asian bombshell began to prowl towards him as Jason’s eyes flickered briefly. Oh yes his restraint was definitely slipping from his grasp. First his eyes became flecked with gold tint as he spoke in a mesmeric voice that was sensual and seductive in its quality. “Why don’t you come here darling and show me what you have got in store.” Having the Asian under his sway he would watch her sashay her way to him before plopping down in his lap and gyrating her hips upon his own in an erotic tease. As the Asian teased Jason with her sensual movements he would lean forward and kiss her neck after brushing her hair away from her neck and drag his slowly elongating fangs across her skin leaving a red weal on her neck that caused the Asian to shudder in delight. ” I see you have a fetish for being bitten eh?” Jason would whisper huskily against her neck before striking like a snake and anchoring his fangs firmly in her neck to feed. Slowly Jason drained the dancer before pulling away leaving her weak from blood loss but not enough to kill her. Oh no Jason had other plans for the Asian dancer as well as the redhead. Slowly Jason would rise from the couch leaving the Asian dancer sprawled out on the black leather. Once standing he would prowl over to the dancing redhead before stopping her routine and kissing the back of her hand tenderly as he led her back to the couch before he too fed from her leaving her weak and unable to move. Though he had left them weak he kissed them both on the forehead tenderly. “Sleep well my pretties…”Jason would whisper before slicing his wrist and allowing a drop of his blood to drip into each of their mouths before he looked over at Isabella and watched her languidly. He knew not what he had done aside from establishing a bond with his two blood dolls that he had claimed. As Jason watched he would mental take notes on how to entice one’s victim into getting ever closer. He knew that this wasn’t Isabella’s first feeding and was determined to learn from her.

“Carmen…we need to get inside real soon, and I can’t see either of us being able to take a bullet out of that wolf on our own within an hour. I am pretty sure vets don’t make house calls out here, especially if we are going to be locked in that house, and asleep.”

“I know, but I’m not going to leave her here for some poacher to find.” she growled. Continuing to soothe the wolf, she bent her knees and got her arms beneath the wolf’s stomach. The she-wolf yelped once more when Carmen accidentally pressed against her injury and Carmen apologized for that. Once the wolf was situated in her arms, Carmen headed back to the cabin, not even caring she was still naked, or that she’d left her robe back at the spring…or that she was still buck naked.

Cabin in the Woods – Living Room

Carmen entered the cabin and made directly for the livingroom, placing the wolf on the rug before the fire. She went into the downstairs bathroom and began rooting around in the drawers and cabinets. She didn’t state what she was looking for, but the sounds stopped and she came back out holding a pair of tweezers, a towel, a bottle of disinfectant and some bandages.

She looked at Shane.

“I need you to come and keep her calm. Hold her head, talk to her in a soothing voice, and try to keep her from seeing what I’m doing.” she begged him. She didn’t know why, but she felt that deep down inside of herself, helping this wolf would be beneficial to the both of them.

She knelt next to the wolf and poured the disinfectant onto the towel before gently dabbing at the wound. The she-wolf whimpered slightly but remained still as Carmen treated her. She dipped the tweezers into the hot coals of the fire to sterilize it, waiting for it to cool before she began to dig out the bullet. She was slow and gentle in her movements and inch by inch the bullet slowly emerged.

“There’s the sonofabitch.” Carmen whispered as the bullet appeared. Getting a good grip with the tweezers and ignoring the blood staining her hands and the rug, she pulled it the rest of the way out, dropping it on the coffee table beside her. Nodding with satisfaction, she poured more disinfectant into the wound a little at a time, waiting until the bubbling was clear before she proceeded to stitch the wound closed.

She went to wash her hands before returning to the wolf’s side to wrap the bandages around the now-clean wound in order to keep it clean and dry. Once done, Carmen sat back with a sigh of pleasure. The wolf surprised her by licking Shane’s hand, the pain in those blue eyes practically gone.

“I’ll take her to the vet when we return home…make sure there’s no infection.” Carmen stated. “But I’m going to find the sonofabitch who did this and rip his goddamn throat out.”

An alarm sounded in the kitchen and there was a click and whirling sound as the shutters began to close over the windows.

“Sunrise.” she yawned, suddenly tired. “Let’s go to bed, darling.” She stood and held out her hand for her mate.

While Isabella was enjoying the chest licking from her own private dancer, it turned out that Jason was not going to use his full Vampire beast, but rather take on two blood dolls. This actually had Isabella stop from what she was doing, and peeked past her “meal” to see if it was really happening.

“Hmm!” She made the hmmph sound with a shrug. Slightly dissapointed, since she didn’t usually come to the club to play with her food. But, all to their own. If he wanted sex toys, he was more than welcome to have them. Course, there were rules to that in her coven, but he was going to have to find that out on his own. Isabella simply smacked her lips and then smacked her dancer to hop off her lap, for it was now her turn. He obliged of course, since he was under her hypnotic stare, and then sat back on the couch, writhing, and motioning with his finger for her to sit on his lap.

Isabella chuckled as this was like taking candy from a baby. He was mesmerized and caught in her web. Isabella straddled his lap, and did a little bounce, that got the male dancer excited beneath her. Isabella’s eyes traveled down to his neck, where she could see his main vein pulsating, ripe with blood. It was time to say goodnight to the fair prince, for he had entertained her just enough. She reached for the back of his head and with her sharpened nails extended, she ripped his head back. Hard enough for you to hear a cracking sound. Her ripe red tongue slithered out between her lips, as the dancer began to cry out in pain. He sounded so sweet and scared. Isabella’s jaw extended, with her white elongated fangs now predominantly on display, and with a swift movement, she bit down hard on the dancer’s neck, as he writhed in agony beneath her. Isabella was of course a lot stronger, and used her thighs to pin him down, as his blood gushed into her mouth. Sweet, rich and hot, she gulped it down hungrily.

Soon his body stopped jerking and fell limp beneath her, as she drew her head back, with blood running down her chin and all over her slender digits. Isabella ran her tongue across her teeth and laughed, as she climbed off the dead body and went to get a towel, to clean up her face.

“A bit sweet, but a good year, none the less.” Isabella joked, before becoming serious seeing the sleeping “girls”. She casually waved her hand at them both and asked Jason;

“So…what exactly do you plan to do with your meals? She reached for a goblet of blood and took a sip, before continuing.“Starting your own little coven at home?”

<3>

Having picked up Carmen’s robe at the hot springs, and followed Carmen back up to the main Cabin, Shane couldn’t quite understand all the fuss over a wolf. It was a wild animal and certainly didn’t belong inside. Course, when Carmen made up her mind about something, she always got her way.

Following her into the living room, he draped her robe over a nearby couch, and was about to go and get ready for bed, when Carmen implored that he help hold the wolf’s head while she played Doctor Doolittle on the Wolf’s bullet wound.

“But..” That was the only word he got out, cause Carmen had already gotten a start on finding implements and the right gear to carry out this task. Sighing, Shane knew there was no way out of this, and got down on his knees at the head of the wolf, who was whimpering the whole time. Shane cradled the wolf’s head on his lap, and got a fairly good hold on the beast, while Carmen set to removing the bullet safely. Shane started to sing a song to the wolf, which happened to be “Little red riding hood, you sure are looking good.” It was the only song he could come up with, and surprisingly, it got the wolf’s attention long enough for Carmen to remove the bullet safely, but not before she swore like a trooper about who did this to the animal.

“Good…doggy.” Shane said, patting it as the last of the operation was finishing, with Carmen wrapping up the stitched wound with bandaging. The Wolf started to lick Shane’s hand, and he said. “Don’t lick me, I was just the support crew.” Typical Shane at the wrong moments.

“I’ll take her to the vet when we return home…make sure there’s no infection.” Carmen stated. ”But I’m going to find the sonofabitch who did this and rip his goddamn throat out.”

Shane yawned as the shutters started to engage and the alarm went off to show it was Sunrise. “Mkay…you can do all the ripping you like…after we sleep.” He rose to standing, and then grabbing Carmen’s robe, walked with her to their bedroom, not checking back to see if the wolf was following.

As he turned the corner to go in their bedroom, he asked.

“How are we going to fit a full grown wolf in my sports car? I just had the upholstery cleaned.”

<3>

Jason shrugged slowly as he answered his lovely Isabella’s question directed at his choice to take the two as blood dolls.“They have a purpose my love not as just sex toys but informants and many other things there’s a reason to why I do things..” Just then out of the corner of his eye Jason happened to notice a lone male walk in with a slight stumble as if he had tripped before he returned his attention to Isabella who had her back to the door and continued to watch the male silently. This male happened to be a complete drunkard who was literally drunken to the point of not realizing where he was as he moved towards Isabella and forced his hand up her dress to grope her. This of course did not go unnoticed by Jason who offered a soft hiss of warning before slowly standing up and walking towards the male and his mate. As Jason walked towards the male he would rub her hooch teasingly as he spoke with a slurred voice. “Come here whore and let daddy fuck your hooch good…”As the fledgling vampire lord listened he would raise a brow before something snapped within him. Slowly Jason’s eyes became flecked with red until they where a crimson coloring while his nails elongated into rending claws. His canines had elongated into bone crushing fangs Then in a blur Jason tore across the room to collide with the drunken male and bear him into a wall with enough force to crack the entire wall section from floor to ceiling. Jason then chuckled softly as the male wailed ineffectually at Jason’s chest trying to get free. “Lemme go you dirtbag!!” The male would shout before Jason caught the males fist in his mouth and with a savage jerking motion tore the fist from his arm causing the alcohol rich blood to spray over the room. The now absolutely enraged vampire then turned to spit the severed hand out before being cracked across the temple by the drunken male with a bottle that shattered on impact covering Jason in alcohol. Oh that was the last straw as Jason literally hissed in anger that rivaled the eruption of Pompeii. Nothing would stop him from literally turning the drunken male into nothing more then a pile of bones with blood painting the wall. After a few moments of flashing claws it was done and Jason had completely flayed the unfortunate male alive with him howling all the while though thankful the room was soundproofed. With a sated hiss Jason would slowly come down from his unparalleled rage only to walk over to the bathroom and mop the blood that caked his face up as well as wash his hands. With a soft grunt Jason would look at his handiwork with a cold distant expression on his face as if his emotions where on complete and total lock down for the moment. He would continue to stand there silently and stiff as a statue as his eyes took upon their normal coloring once again though if one where to look closely there where still some flecks of red within his pupils. Of course he was still highly irritated and ready to snap a second time as the girls he had taken as blood dolls still slumbered on the couch unaware of the recent killing committed by Jason. The fact was Jason was more then willing to kill for Isabella and would do such again if needed. Oh he was loyal to her and her designs.

The Light Box Art Gallery is one of Seattle’s best known hot spots for local and international talent to showcase their latest creations.

Curator : Maxell Hines.

The phones were ringing off the hook as Maxwell’s secretary; Lucy Bardwell was madly trying to take down details of the many interested guests that wished to get advance tickets to the showing of the Lazeros Collection. News had hit the streets early, earlier than expected, and it had been Maxwell’s own doing, after he got drunk at a society ball, and blurted the fact that Giano Lazeros was going to be showing his collection of erotic black and white photographs at the Light box. Maxwell was almost tearing his hair out, going as far to take the phone off the hook and dump it in the waste paper basket.

Lucy quickly knocked on the door, and carried with her an armful of notes of the expected guests.

“Well, it’s a sell out. We could have people pay to just stare through the windows. Congrats Maxwell, you did it and you don’t even know how.” the secretary dumped the pile of notes on his desk and then huffed.

“We still have an opening in two weeks as a lead up to the Lazeros collection, got anyone in mind who can grace the halls with their work on such short notice?” Lucy knew that it was imperative that they keep the ball rolling. Continued interest on the lead up to the Lazeros meant more advertising and also keeping the society dolls tittering about Max’s gallery.

“I was thinking…a sculptor. Something…different, fresh….local. Ideas?” Maxwell asked, placing his hands together as though in prayer under his chin. Puppy dog eyes usually work with his secretary. Lucy was shocked. Surely he knew all the local artists by now, or was he too busy fraternizing with the society dames and their fat purses to even notice. She had to wonder at times.

“You really don’t have a clue do you, Max?”

“Course not…that is why I hired you. YOU make me look good.” He then flashed his trademark smile, only to have her roll her eyes and turn on her heel. “Well when you get your nose out from Mrs Hancock’s ass, and take a look around, maybe you would be good at spotting local talent.” At this she slammed the door, leaving Maxwell looking perplexed.

Out in her own office, Lucy started to go through her Rolodex to see just who the local sculptors were, and who might be available to do a showing.

<3>

”A Date with Destiny.”

Writers
CharlotteCarrendar
Morinehtar

Location – The Light Box/ Elias’s Studio

Morinehtar: Lucy, irritated, rifled through her contacts. Her fingers would soon come to the J’s after a likely bout of impatient grumbling as she ticked off artist after artist as either being unavailable or unsatisfactory, owing to the fewer numbers of sculptors than painters, sketch artists, and especially photographers. James, Elias L. would jump at her as a reliable name, for he was always up for most anything, or at least, knew someone else who would be. The thought of the grey haired old hippie biker could calm her. He had that way about him, after all. Always had a cool head about him too, though he never seemed one for staying in anyone place for too long a time, despite his consistent return to Seattle. Must be something about the coffee shops and the proximity to so many communes.

CharlotteCarrendar: – Reaching for the phone, she tapped in Elias’s number and then waited, curling the phone cord around her finger as she stared out of her office into the gallery. The buzz sound indicated it was at least ringing, which was a miracle in itself Elias’s was not really one for the joys of modern technology, and in fact she was surprised he even had a phone. :: In Elias’s studio he was just putting the finishing touches to his latest masterpiece, using a paintball gun as his tool of trade. Taking off his mask, he heard the cheerful ring of his phone, and his face creased, wondering who would be calling at this hour. He had a suspicion of course. Placing down the paintball gun on the nearest bench and wiping his hand on a rag, he picked up the receiver. “I sent the cheque last week, Ferdinand, so stop pestering me.” Lucy had to hold back from her laughter as it seemed that Elias thought she was a creditor chasing him down for payment. “Er…no Elias, its Lucy Bardwell from the Light Box Gallery. I want to pick your brain for a second. We are in need of a local artist, preferably a sculptor to do a showing in a fortnight. Happen to know of any bright new talent keen for some exposure?”<3>

Morinehtar: “Ah, Lucy, you’re certainly another kettle of fish. How have you been? And of course you’re welcome to pick my rotten old brain any day,” he answered, swinging around to sit on his dusty supply table. “Any new talent? Local ya say? Yes. I know a sculptor for it-Irish lass, but her mom’s from Seattle and so the girl’s been her the last ten years. Name’s Roísín, and she’s been helping me out around the studio lately. Her work tends to be relief. She’s still experimenting with her base but has plenty of good pieces, should be enough for a show. I’ll have to talk her into it though.”

CharlotteCarrendar: – So far Lucy was liking the story. An Irish girl with a mother who was born and bred in Seattle. People love to read about the starting of fresh talent, not just what they can create so instantly this girl; Roisin sounded very interesting indeed. Lucy tapped her pencil on her notepad, as she listened to Elias give her the rundown of what this girl is about. The fact she was still experimenting, meant that her work would indeed be fresh. As well as having enough for a collection, this girl sounded ideal. “Well is there any chance you could help us set up a meeting. I know Maxwell would be more than delighted to make it a luncheon at the Shay Bruno’s on West street. Our treat of course.” Lucy was hopeful that Elias could persuade the girl. Afterall, to a new artist this was a great opportunity for exposure both locally, and in the nation’s papers. <3>

Morinehtar: “Oh sure, I can get her to a meeting, no problem. You all might need to indulge her tendencies a bit; you know how new artists are. But Max will love her, I’m sure. I can have her there tomorrow if you want. 12:30 sound good?” His tone was pleasant, but Lucy might well note the mischievous tint to it all the same. He had a healthy serving of the prankster in him, humor if you like, but he had never yet set her astray on anyone and had no intention of doing so now. The grin on his face was far more to do with his imagining Roísín’s face than it was with Lucy and Max’s reaction.

CharlotteCarrendar: – ~Indulge her tendencies?~ Why, Lucy and Max were practically experts when it came to treating artists with kid gloves. Lucy found this amusing to say the least. Elias assured her that Max would love her. Course, Max loves just about anything in a skirt, and even more so if that skirt could make him money. This was all going swimmingly, especially when Elias said that he could have her there at 12.30. “That sounds perfect, Elias. I knew I could count on you to come up with just the person we need. “I’ll go ahead and make the reservation and we shall see you at 12.30.” With her free hand, Lucy was already tapping in the details of the restaurant on her computer, as she went through the rounding up of the call. “Till tomorrow, good day Elias.” Lucy hung up and sung out to her boss; Maxwell who had finally decided to venture out of his own office to tend to a client that just walked in the door. “You can thank me later Max. We have a lunch date tomorrow with Seattle’s next big thing.” Max stopped by the door, taking Lucy at her word. “Well, let’s hope she doesn’t have a BIG appetite.” <3>

Morinehtar: Roísín did not have a big appetite, and when she saw the name of the place Elias was dragging her into, she called him up on it: “What are we doing at a restaurant? You said we were meeting one of your clients; you never meet them at restaurants.” Elias stepped out of the car with his eyes twinkling. “I never said it was a client, only that it was business. Besides, some of my contact prefer bougier settings,” he explained casually. Shutting the door, he walked up to the entrance and informed the hostess that he was meeting a party reserved under the name Hines. The name was of course on the list. So by the time Roísín had warily followed Elias out of the car and into the restaurant, suspicion written all over her face, the woman was leading them towards the awaiting table.

CharlotteCarrendar:- Maxwell and Lucy had of course gotten to the restaurant earlier, mainly because happy hour started at midday, and Max did so enjoy a nice lager before his lunch meal. He had been perusing the menu, when Lucy gave him a kick under the table, as Elias and his young friend approached. “Manners.” Lucy growled as she rose to standing, with Max dropping his menu is surprise, then doing up his jacket as he reached to shake Elias’s hand. “So lovely you could both come. Oh and this must be the very talented Roisin that we have been hearing all about. Might I say you look incredible. Please, won’t you both have a seat.” He asked, gesturing where they would be able to sit, as Lucy offered Roisin a polite smile. “We know this is such short notice, but we are just incredibly eager to learn a bit more about your pieces.” The waiter brought over more menus, whilst another topped up the water glasses. It was a classy establishment, and a single meal was at least fifty dollars at a starting price. <3>

Morinehtar: They were lead over to a couple seated one of the more select tables. Initially Roísín though they were married, but if that was the case the man looked at her much more openly than she would have expected. Elias smiled and took the offered hand. Roísín simply nodded. Her eyes widened at the man’s compliment; why was he calling Elias’s assistant talented? She momentarily debated the how useful it would be if she could mentally draw her wavy red hair closed like a curtain over her face before the woman asked them to sit. They both did as requested though Elias managed it much more gracefully. The whole place made Roísín feel underdressed in her black jeans and grey blouse. As the woman continued, Elias’s *favor* became abundantly clear: “We know this is such short notice, but we are just incredibly eager to learn a bit more about your pieces.” The green eyed girl’s mouth promptly fell open without any sound following. Astonishment radiated from her for a solid second before she turned her head and set her jaw in that stubborn way Elias knew well. But he had anticipated this and made a point to cut in before she could say a word: “Surprise! I wanted to spare you the anxiety I had leading up to my first show luncheon, so I thought it best to wait until you had met Maxell Hines and his assistant, the lovely Lucy Bardwell.” He gestured to each of them in turn, then continued with, “Maxell is the curator at The Light Box, the best set gallery in Seattle, and he wants to show your sculptures.” Roísín’s expression was once more stunned.

CharlotteCarrendar: – “That’s right. That’s right. We have an opening in two weeks time for a promising artist such as yourself, to put forth a collection that I am sure will have the art critics of Seattle raving.” Maxwell knew how to put on the charm as it were when he felt it was needed. Lucy on the other hand could see that the girl was shocked by all the attention, and this had her wonder just how green the girl was. A sideways glance at the chuff Elias proved her right. He always had been a cheeky bastard at the best of times. Lucy decided however to play along with the charade, nodding at appropriate intervals, and trying her darndest not to interject whilst Max did his pitch. “So, really all we ask is that you enjoy this sumptuous feast we are about to partake in, and then we can get down to the details of legal paperwork; you know all that boring stuff.” Max picked up his beer and then charged his glass. “To good business.” Would she follow suit? <3>

Morinehtar: Elias was dead, dead dead dead. How had she not seen this coming? The man had been egging her to show her work for weeks, and she couldn’t remember the last time they had met anyone for business on a weekend. What was worse, she’d already fucking agreed to it: “Roísín, mind if I call in that favor you owe me? I’ve got a meeting to go to and I’d rather have a wing man. Besides, I’m sure they’ll ask you to help with whatever it is they’re wanting. My assistants have had to with them in the past. So could you do that for me and come along?” The thought that most of his former assistants were now working in their own studios in various cities around the world hadn’t tipped her. Why would it have? She also shouldn’t make Elias look like an ass in front of the curator and his secretary even if she felt it warranted. Bugger all. “Too good business,” Max said with a raise of his glass. Resigning herself, she lifted her water glass along with Elias and echoed the phrase, “good business,” with as much pleasantry as she could muster. It wasn’t much, which the other pair would probably chalk up to her being shell shocked. Roísín buried her nose in the ridiculously priced menu.

CharlotteCarrendar: – Max was thrilled. Lucy was somewhat relieved but in the back of her mind she had a nagging doubt. Elias was his usual self, ready to enjoy what would be a fantastic lunch, while a shell shocked Roisin seemed to be in agreeance. But was she really? Her face now buried behind the large maroon and gold trimmed menu, gave Lucy the chance to whisper to Max, who was already getting ready to place his order. “Why do I feel like I just watched the signing of one’s soul to the devil?” her voice so low it would be hard to pick up. Max looked up from his menu and made a “hmm?” sound, before he went to look at the girl who was now hiding behind the menu. “Probably nerves, Lucy. I wouldn’t read too much into it.” Lucy was still not convinced, and while Max was giving his order to the waitor, Lucy asked Roisin. “Would it be at all possible for me to perhaps come to your studio as a pre show inspection. If you don’t mind of course.” This was to test the waters, and also get to talk to the girl one on one. No men, no pressure. <3>

Morinehtar: File minion, fancy fish, and rich pasta all under names Roísín was doubtful about being able to pronounce, let alone enjoy. Did they have burgers? She found the nearest thing to it in the form of a ritzy looking chicken salad sandwich in the back before the cocktail listings. Deciding that would have to do, she looked up at Lucy with her brow furrowed, reminding herself not to slouch into her seat. “Oh-I don’t have one,” she blurted. The statement could well have given Lucy a start given her doubts, but Roísín was not long in offering an explanation: “I use Elias’s. That’s part of the deal we had. I help him out and instead of paying me, he lets me use the space and some of his stuff.” Elias had naturally ordered a steak, not having even looked at the menu. So the waiter was now at Roísín’s shoulder. “The chicken salad sandwich and fries, please. Oh, and a beer,” she ordered. The alcohol would be needed.

CharlotteCarrendar: – Maxwell had ordered a lobster mornay with Italian salad, crusty rolls and another lager, while Lucy went simply for a chicken Caesar salad and a glass of sparkling white wine. They had both frequented this restaurant before and had firm favourites that they had nearly every time they dined there. Maxwell enjoyed his beer, whilst taking out his iphone and scrolling through messages, as Lucy was the one in charge. It was like watching a Mother babysitting her son at the dinner table. Lucy’s expression became strained when Roisin admitted she didn’t have a studio or place of her own to store her creations, and she used Elias’s. A quick save by the young Irish lass averted more questions, as Lucy reached for her water glass and took a large sip, before placing her glass down again. “I see. Well I am sure after the success of your first showing, that you will have your own place in no time. After all, this is how most of the city’s up and coming are noticed.” She spoke truthfully at that statement, as their meals were brought out from the kitchens, and placed before them in order of who ordered first. <3>

CharlotteCarrendar: – “Ah yes, the most talented photographer in all of Europe is going to be doing a world tour and our own gallery snagged the rights to have his work shown the week after Roisin’s showing.” Maxwell said with a smile, holding a fork full of lobster aloft. He was very proud of the fact he managed to secure the deal with Giano Lazeros. Setting down his fork, he put his hands together and then let out a sigh of contentment. “Giano captures the richness and fullness of the female form in the throes of ecstasy and desire. You only have to see his work, to realize just how passionate he is about his craft.” One had to wonder if Maxwell favoured the work above the artist. Maxwell picked up his fork again and started eating, while Lucy decided to move around the table to a seat closer to Roison while the men engaged in a discussion about finance. Lucy leaned over to Roison and whispered. “I know this must be a bit much, the food. Max being, well Max. For which I am sorry.” <3>

Morinehtar: Elias nodded, grinning. “I’m not surprised. Tenacity is not a trait which you lack, nor is charm. How many galleries will he be showing in?” Lucy moved momentarily drew his attention by moving around the table to be nearer to Roísín, the latter of whom was busily acquainting herself with her chicken salad sandwich as if it were speaking the most luscious of love rhymes to her face. The girl’s eyes suggested a viper had taken a seat next to her. Elias chuckled inwardly. She would learn. He turned back to Max. Stalling to think of response, Roísín took her time chewing and swallowing. Finally nodding, she said, “Oh, yeah..Max is luxuriant.” Roísín was not terribly particular about the volume of her voice.

CharlotteCarrendar: – “Only twelve galleries across the US have been given access to his work, so when you think of all the cities that are missing out, sucks to be them. Aha.” Max replied, chuff as always. He had wolfed down his meal in record time and was now on his third glass of lager. No doubt he wouldn’t be capable of much in the afternoon, other than sleep off the drink in his office, while Lucy continued to run the show. Lucy for the time being was attempting to get better acquainted with the young artist who remarked that Max was luxuriant. At that precise moment, Max let out a loud belching sound, followed by a chuckle and excusing himself profusely. Lucy sighed, and she happened to agree with Roisin’s observation. “Indeed he is.” The waiter brought around the bill in a fine leather binder, which Lucy took and whipped out her platinum diner’s club card and then scribbled her signature on the tab, while leaving the card in the binder and handing it back to the waiter. Lunch, and the meeting was over. Lucy rose to standing and then said to Elias. “We will have our legal team send over the contract and insurance details that will be required, and after that we start the promotional campaign, which I will provide you with a brief for.” She snapped her fingers, as Max finally came up for air, after checking his iphone again. “Time we were heading back to the gallery, Max.” Max grumbled about wanting another beer, to which Lucy shook her head. “Maybe with dinner.” She smiled at Roisin and said. We’ll be in touch.” At this she handed over her business card, and then smartly led the inebriated Maxwell out to the car park. <3>

Morinehtar: “Ah, indeed. Well done,” Elias congratulated. He himself was only three fourths into his first beer and would not be finished in time to consume another, though he had certainly done a number on his most delicious steak. Roísín offed the last of her fries as the waiter came around with the bill. Lucy directed the now bubbly Max like a mother, a think which did not instil confidence in Roísín. That said, Lucy appeared more than capable as well as kind, at least in manner. It would take many more encounters and a good deal of time before Roísín would full trust that the woman was not fronting. If she knew anything about the world of art, it was that it was often rife with two-faced slander as well as ignorant ass holes. Once the card was back, Lucy rose and offered her card to Roísín who took it and placed it into her pocket: “Thanks.” She and Elias watched the pair depart. Once they were out the door and out of sight, Roísín turned to the grey haired figure beside her: “I’m going to kill you.” His laugh rang through half the restaurant.

For such a large hulk of a man to be so gentle with a woman like IIyra is a sight that would melt the hardest heart. With her eyes brimming with tears, Tagor slowly untied her dress ties, without taking his eye off hers. Letting the fabric fall to the floor like liquid silk. Now, you would think the first thing on his mind was to rut, which was normal for Njada men, but this time instead, he bent and picked up IIyra and carried her to the furs, laying her down gently in the center. From here, he laid down beside her, not on top. From here, he started to run his calloused hand across her shoulder, down and over each bosom, exploring her with the lightest of touches. There was no kneading, or pinching, just the gentle sweep of his hand. He propped himself up, so that he could gaze upon her fully; capturing her reactions and hearing her breath a sigh.

Njada men did not do this. Not by custom, but deep within their own nature, they had the capability to show such love for a woman, more so than to treat her as an object of lust and to carry young. IIyra had brought this need out of Tagor, to show her such affections.

<3>

Feeling a sense of peace overtake her, Ilyra stood still as Tagor reached for the ties of her dress, her eyes on his. The material slipped to the ground at her feet with barely a whisper of sound. She had prepared herself for the roughness of their joining. What she was not expecting was for Tagor to scoop her into his arms and carry her to their furs. He placed her gently in their center before joining her, not on top of her but beside her. Well this was certainly different then his usual behavior.

He ran his large and calloused hand across the skin of her shoulder and down over her chest, exploring her body with feather-light touches that raised goosebumps along her flesh. There was no roughness, no pinching, no biting. It was as if he had discovered something new about her and was savoring each moment.

He had propped himself up on his free arm so that he could stare at her, catching her reactions to his touch.

At the first touch of his hand, her heart had stuttered in her chest. His touch electrified her, causing her to tremble. As he traversed her skin, she couldn’t help the small moans and breathless sighs that teased past her lips.

Shyly, her own hand reached upward to touch his cheek, her thumb brushing across his skin, lovingly. She ran her hand upward over his cheekbone, to his forehead, mapping his strong brow. Down the bridge of his nose, across his lips, which he kissed as they moved over him. Down his neck and across his broad shoulders. She felt a deep scar there, thick and rigid and decided to ask about it at a later time. Down his chest, over his pectoral muscles, brushing gently across his nipples and through the sparse hairs of his chest.

Gulping, for she’d never voluntarily had done anything of the sort, she ran her hand down his body and over his rigid manhood. She made an “O!” of surprise at how soft it felt. And it had been inside of her body. The thought of it made her flush with heat. She reluctantly released him and continued exploring the rest of his body, her hand moving down his thigh, the furthest point she could reach without moving away from him, before she let her hand follow the same path upward toward his back. The rounded globes of his arse were a temptation she couldn’t ignore and she gave them a light caress before she released him.

Her gaze was caught by his and she inhaled sharply, seeing the love he felt for her shining in their depths.

“Tagor.” she whispered, the emotions she was feeling making her skin glow with her own light. Was this love? Is this what she was feeling? She took a moment to examine it and found that, yes, she was in love with this man. Was it only yesterday she was tied to a pole and ready to be sold? How could love happen so quickly?

She could almost hear her mother’s voice in her head…

“Love sets no time limits, has no set day, doesn’t conform to the standard practices and rituals involved. When it happens, it simply is. You cannot run from it…you cannot fight it. To the world you might be one person, but to one person you might be the world. **Love has no desire but to fulfill itself. To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.**

Her hand stopped at the back of his neck, brushing lightly over his skin as she waited. She was so unsure of what to do and was counting on him to lead her in the right direction.

“My love.” she whispered.

——

**As quoted by Kahlil Gibran

Njada men are traditionally very set in their ways. To them, sex had two purposes; one to be as a release for their lust, and the second to produce young. There was no time for intimacy, or just sharing with another the simple pleasures of touching. What Tagor had set out on, when he laid his woman down on the furs, was a chance to not only explore her body with his hands, but allow her to do the same. Normally this was simply not done. Women were either held down, and mounted, or encouraged not to touch, unless advised too.

Tagor found a sense of wonderment in watching IIyra’s skin glow with a magical aura as his hands passed over her skin. Though rough and calloused from combat and labour, he was still able to show a gentleness that could not be imagined. The Njada leader’s eyes reflected the candle light as he withdrew his hand from IIyra and found that she had now worked up the courage to touch him. Tagor actually found her soft and delicate hands to be extremely pleasurable. Like electricity shooting through him as she let her fingers wander, and explore every scar and ever bump of his skin. He even had to suppress a light chuckle when she gasped at handling his girth. It was one thing to experience in mating what it felt like to have his member pushed inside her folds, but quite another to be handling it; stroking it lovingly. Tagor was of size, it was without question, and when they did join together, it had to be done gently at first, for he was simply so large he could easily hurt her.

Keeping his hands to himself as she continued to let her fingers dance across his skin, was becoming increasingly difficult, but he kept himself under control, till the point where she was so aroused from their play that she would want his touch again. Sure enough that would come, as her fingers lightly stroked the back of his neck. Eyes imploring him to lead the way. She was so accustomed to being used just for pleasure for the male, not for her own sake.

“My love.” Her voice was whisper soft, as she gazed into his eyes, and he returned this by smiling at her fondly.“IIyra…treasured.” Tagor growled, though his tone was not aggressive, just how it sounded when it reverberated off his chest. Now that they were discovering each other, he decided that they would continue this, only in a manner that would lead them both to sexual fulfillment. Long ago, one of his slaves from the spice nations, had shown Tagor a few positions from a book called the Kama sutra. He gently rolled IIyra onto his stomach, however her back would face his chest, and her buttocks would be resting upon his lower stomach. Using his large hand, he parted her legs so in effect she was straddling him, but he moved his thick member in between her legs, so with its natural curve it now sat plump against her folds. The point of this was, as they both started to move, his member would tease her clit, by sliding up and between, while him being on his back, he had access to touching her breasts at will. The more aroused that IIyra became, the easier it would be to have her mount from this position, propping herself up with her palms, whilst her bottom would roll and turn as it rested on his stomach. It was both a way of being close, without the bulk of Tagor upon her, and also gave her the chance to be well lubricated from the stroking play before hand. Tagor took to task and began to lift his hips ever slightly, enough to have his member slide against her sensitive lips, while tilting her head with his free hand, so he could steal a kiss as she had her face partially towards his. It was something new, and ideal to help her learn that she too deserved pleasure from their lovemaking.

<3>

“Tagor…love me…”

Her cry was almost breathless, as her natural instinct brought her to move her body of its own accord. IIyra’s voice had a husky quality as she seized this new wave of desire, that was bringing her a feeling of euphoria she had never before known. She was doing well, accepting his girth a bit at a time, and slowly easing onto him. The pain and pleasure meshed together, while her body started the rhythmic hip rolling, only getting her lower and lower. Tagor grunted with pleasure at the feeling of tightness from her; muscles working to grip his shaft, while at the same time lubricated with her hot sex. But now IIyra wanted more. Not just for Tagor to lay there and be used, she wanted him to bring her more pleasure. He obliged, by licking his large digits, then reaching around as she gyrated. A single finger stroked between her lush folds, while his other free hand came to clamp over her right bosom. His hands were huge, and with the roughness of his skin against the suppleness of hers, the sensation would evoke a new wave of desire. Not hard kneading, for that was not needed. Tagor teased her nipple by pulling on it, and then cupping her breast, as another finger joined the first down between her legs. With the combined sensation of being stroked, along with his engorged member sliding in and out at a speed she controlled, this would be what bring IIyra to climax.

Her excitement at that moment, her moans and cries, as he pleasured her were only reawakening his own needs, and his hips started to lift off the furs, bouncing her a little. Tagor was incredibly strong, and probably didn’t know just how powerful he could be, but right now, he had a goal, and that was to have her scream his name; begging for more. She would be a Njada woman…and be proud.

<3>

Ilyra’s cry could not only be heard in the privacy of their tent, but also outside the tent. A cry so loud that it had many stop what they were doing. The mate of Tagor had become full Njada, experiencing the wonders of a full orgasm. Tagor held her still as she froze upon him, her long wail like music to his ears. It was rare to hear a woman make such sound, and she was trembling so violently, he knew of how to finish.

Gently he rolled her onto her side, and the large Njada warrior moved in behind her. Making sure she was comfortable, as she came down from the dizzying highs. He brushed back her angelic white hair from her neck, taking his time, as he positioned himself in behind her. Tagor murmured into her hair as he lined the head of his still hard member to her dripping folds, and then eased himself in a bit at a time. With one leg draped over both of hers, he held her in place, and then started to slowly move his hips, pushing himself in and out as though savoring each moment he was inside her. Tagor wrapped an arm around her and burrowed his face into the crook of her neck. She could feel the warmth of his breath as he made each hip thrust; a delicious grunting sound as he completed her. IIyra though having come herself, could feel an incredible closeness, the very love of this man as he bound her in his arms, protecting her and loving her all at once. He didn’t speed up, but kept the constant rocking, which was building as his size increased inside her. Finally, he was short of breath, and the last two hip thrusts came. He released a sound, that was muffled through her skin, much quieter than normal. Filling her and then continuing to hold her close to him, as the candles burnt brightly around them. Tagor’s hands wandered to her stomach, and there they lay.

They had not just mated, but made love. It was the beginning of their lives as a couple. The leaders of the Njada.

<3>

She was aware of when he slipped slowly from her and she made a little sound of disappointment. It didn’t last long as he pulled her down beside him, spooning her from behind. She felt the brush of his hand in her hair, pulling the damp strands away from her neck as he pressed in close. He murmured something she didn’t catch as he eased himself into her once more. She moaned his name, pressing the back of her head against his shoulder, her eyes closed as he draped a large leg over hers. She shivered as he thrust into her still throbbing core, her overstimulated organs squeezing tight around him as this angle allowed him to go deep within her. His movements were slow and Ilyra couldn’t help but feel a sense of closeness at this act.

He wrapped an arm around her, burrowing his face into the crook of her neck, his warm breath ghosting across her skin. Each thrust within her would be accompanied by a grunt of pleasure from him, causing her to moan and arch her back, meeting his thrust with one of her own. He neither moved too fast nor too slow, but a constant steady pace that kept her on edge for moments at a time.

His name, whispered on a sigh, as she felt him expand within her. He made a sound behind her, muffled against her skin as he finally reached his own peak, thrusting twice more before stilling, his body rigid against her back, throbbing within her and filling her with his seed. An answering throb from herself, her breathing synced in time with his own.

He didn’t release her from his embrace, nor did he remove himself from her body. His hands wandered to her stomach and remained in place. Her own small hands joined against his upon her stomach where their child slept in her womb, her fingers tangling with his, content for the first time in her adult life.

No words were spoken between them. None needed to be said.

What Ilyra hadn’t realized then, was that by the releasing of her magic inside of their tent, surrounding Tagor with her love and commitment, bonded him completely to her. She was his mate, yes, but the reverse was also true. As the father of her child, as the mate of a Winter Elf, the bond between them signified that Tagor would be unable to take another woman to his furs, no woman may touch him in return without causing himself and Ilyra some sort of pain. And if he were to die, she would die with him for elves could not bear to live without their bondmate.

She had been taken from her homeland before this was explained to her and she did not know of it.

It would be something they would discover together, most assuredly.

The new day dawned for the sleeping couple, who had enjoyed the closeness and warmth of each other throughout the cold of the night; wrapped within each other’s arms in the large pile of furs and cushions. Tagor was the first to stir as he could hear the sounds of a village coming to life, as many started their days early. Gently, Tagor eased himself from Ilyra as she lay sleeping soundly. She looked so utterly beautiful, her skin aglow and still warmed from being held. He placed a large fur across her body to maintain his warmth, as he rose to standing, and stretched himself out. The Njada chief was of course hungry after not eating a terrible lot at the feast, and he also needed to wash. There were special water gourds kept in the tents for bathing, and he strode over and picked one up, pouring water across himself, before picking up a special soap bar, that he rubbed himself vigorously with, before cleansing off with more water. A quick rub down with a large cloth, which he hung on a rope that ran across one of the roof sections, before going to get dressed in his pants and large belt, that covered a fair portion of his stomach. Later, he would ask IIyra to braid his long hair as it was customary for his mate to do so, but for now he would let her sleep.

Tagor now ready for the day, looked down at his pregnant mate, and smiled at her as she slept. She would wake up soon enough, and by then there would be slave girls to prepare her for the day. He would make sure of that. Sharma would still be out of action after defending IIyra against Marmut, and Tagor had plans to go pay her a visit later. But, first things first, and that was to tend to the horses, and also ride out to the scouting position to see what the neighboring clans were up too. If they had moved settlements into their lands or not. This was not uncommon, but the Njada did not take well to such things and there was usually disagreements that ended in violence, unless some sort of deal could be struck.

Heading out to the main horse enclosure, Tagor was met by one of his leading men, Bsar. They exchanged a handshake, gripping each other’s forearm, before going to mount their horses. Bsar asked. “You slept well, Tagor?” Tagor had a bit of a smug expression, and replied. “Mhmm…Mate very good to Tagor.” Both men laughed as they rode out to the scouting cliff.

<3>

She remained asleep long after he’d gone and only woke when the slave girls who tended her before the feast entered the tent, one shaking her gently awake.

Gray eyes met green and she sat up with a yawn, not bothering to pull the the furs up to cover herself.

“Good day, Ilyra. How did you sleep?”

“I slept well, Mija. Thank you.” Ilyra smiled as she climbed to her feet.

“You wish to see Sharma today?” Mija asked as she and Senji washed the evidence of Tagor and Ilyra’s lovemaking from her body and helped her dress for the day.

“I would, if that is all right.”

“She is asking for you. We will take you to her after you have broken your fast.”

“Agreed.” Ilyra nodded, moving to the platters of food they had brought with them.

Once she’d taken her fill, she was lead through the village, surprised when some of the younger children ran up to her and touched her gently before running off with giggles of delight. She looked at Mija in wonder.

“Word has spread you are true mate of Tagor, true Njada woman.”

“How do they know?”

“Several heard you and Tagor upon your furs.” Senji shrugged. Ilyra felt her face heat in extreme embarassement. “Do not be ashamed of this. It is proof you can provide for mate, proof that he need not seek furs of others for Tagor has pride in mate and family. No shame in that.”

It was the second time someone had told her not to be ashamed of what she had with Tagor. It seemed the Njada were a prideful people and by certain actions and deeds, proved their worthiness to the rest of the people. Ilyra would endeavor to overcome feeling ashamed of these things.

She was lead to Sharma’s side and spent some time with the young woman who had defended her with her life. She took time to use her magic to heal the worst of her bruises but the others would have to heal naturally. The medicine woman thanked Ilyra for her help with a smile to the young elf, stating that now Sharma would heal much faster and be back at Ilyra’s side in a few days time instead of a few weeks.

Letting the woman sleep, Ilyra rejoined Mija and Senji, who lead her around the village to show her how they lived. There were women who weaved baskets, women who made breads and meats, worked in the fields to harvest crops and those who took care of the young ones who couldn’t care for themselves. There were even elders who teached. It was a communal society where everyone worked together and no one was for themselves.

Surprising even the slaves, Ilyra offered to help where she could, in the fields with the other women and even learned the art of basket weaving. Using her magic, she fortified the baskets so they would last longer and even carry water and other liquids without losing a drop. In a way, she brought her own help and worthiness to the Njada people.

And she enjoyed every moment of it.

Jamai had been watching IIyra as she offered to help the slaves with the baskets, in using her magic to help make them water tight. He was deeply impressed with how she was integrating with the Njada people, in particular the slaves, who sometimes got a raw deal from some of the more noteable Njada women. The village was abuzz with word of hearing IIyra cry out during her night with Tagor, and this brought a smile to his face.

He wandered over after setting a girl to task on getting water for one of the Njada elders, when he came up behind her at the basket weaving tent.

“Enjoying your morning, IIyra?” He asked, a crooked smile on his face. He was unsure when Tagor had purchased IIyra at the slave markets, and remembered the grimy girl that he had taken to the bath house. So much had changed in a matter of days, that it was hard to believe the winter white haired goddess before him was the same girl.

“Tagor made you full Njada. Very good. It gives warmth to a heart, to know you have brought such happiness and pride to Tagor. Tell me, have you had the sickness yet?” He was inquiring as to whether she had suffered morning sickness, which was to be expected. “I can arrange the medicine woman to treat you if need be.” He spoke differently than most of the Njada, and you had to wonder, what were his origins. It was clear by his skin colour and jawline, that he was not a true blood Njada. Ilyra may well wonder. He had taken interest in her, due to how she came to be found, but also in what the mate of Tagor means, not only to the leader himself, but to the village as a whole. She was the first lady, if one could put it into perspective. Her health and happiness were paramount.

<3>

“Tagor made you full Njada. Very good. It gives warmth to a heart, to know you have brought such happiness and pride to Tagor. Tell me, have you had the sickness yet?”

She tried not to blush at his words, slightly embarassed that the whole village knew what she and Tagor had been up to the previous evening. But Ilyra thought about his question for a moment. “No, I’ve been feeling fine. A bit hungry at odd moments, but medicine woman says that is normal at this stage.” she nodded. “Mejia and Senji take good care of me and have not let me get too overworked.” She nodded at the two slave women at her side. She felt a kinship with them, much like the kinship she felt with Sharma. She dared to call them friends.

She had to wonder about Jamai though. He was Njada, there was no doubt about it…but he didn’t have the look of a warrior, as he was a bit on the small side. She reached out slightly with her aura and was surprised to discover his aura was similar to Tagor’s. There was only one reason for that to be…

She set aside her work and got to her feet. “Will Jamai walk with me for a time?” she wondered. Surprised, he nodded and followed her to the tent she shared with her mate.

Tagor and Ilyra’s Tent

“You are brother of Tagor.” she stated once they were alone. Jamai looked ready to deny it but something in her manner made him pause.

“I am.” he admitted.

“How?” Ilyra asked kindly, guessing that the story was painful. She settled herself upon a cushion and indicated for him to join her. He sat across from her and wondered how to start.

“My father, father of Tagor…shared furs with mother on travels to slave markets. She was nomad woman, not Njada. Gave me to father of Tagor after I born to raise as Njada. Thirras hated me, wanted to kill me when she knew of me. Tagor’s elder father denied her, all sons of Barzghar were given status in village. Father proud of all sons. Thirras try to poison Jamai, almost die. Medicine woman save me but I not strong Njada. Not any longer. Tagor care for Jamai.”

It was the saddest tale Ilyra had ever heard. Thirras was truly an evil woman and Ilyra vowed to be on guard of her. She placed a hand on Jamai’s.

“Jamai has a sister now.” she smiled warmly.

Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 02/11/2014 10:25PM by LadyBelz.

-some time later a Maid had attended to the ruined bed sheets of the lord and ladies chambers and even carted in the hand crafted crib for the new young princess of Noriand. Some of the guard hired from the capital streets, who had grown very attached to the feline lord and lady, patrolled extra carefully that night. Not all supported the new rule of Noriand, and the young princess was vulnerable at this age, unlike her parents, she wouldn’t be able to regenerate a body in heaven if she was killed. The same maid had received the sleepy order from Lady of Noriand to have the scribe draw up a news letter to be sent to all the nobles and like across Noriand, even the one’s far in the wilderness, the news of the birth. It was the proper thing to do, but foolish to this one maid. But the lady wished to share the joy of Jennifer entering the world.

Tilda entered the scribes room, where one of the many page boys were assisting him in sorting through incoming mail and out going mail. “good evening sir, I have a message from the Lady,” she said bowing her head clasping her hands infront of her.

“I’m busy, the Lady can wait can’t she,” he grumbled, having already had to send many a letter over the last three or four months. The maid made a face, the pretty image twisting into a demonic form so to speak and she placed a cold claws hand to the back of his neck, “The Lady said, if you do not send her letter, she will allow me to slice you into meaty chucks and feed you to the princess as her first taste of meat,” she hissed her long snake like tongue snaking across his face.

The scribe broke into a sweat and swallowed, “right, what is her message,” he said and coughed. The maid smiled and straightened up folding her hands in front of her again, “right, she wishes letters be sent to all the nobles and like, telling them of Jennifer’s birth, I’m sure there has been some anticipation, political engagements and what not,” she smiled sweetly and waved at him as she exited his office.

A few hours later or was it days, the scribe completed the letters and passed them off of the pages to be taken to the carrier room where there roosted nearly 100 hawks who were use to the jungle and desert like climates of Noriand. Each letter was strapped to the birds feet and sent off to carrier there messages to the corner of the country and while four went to the ruling leaders of the Central Kingdoms, Roshawn, Kalio, Dhima, and Mirari-

Sitting back lazily upon a fur covered chair, the Slave Master Magarsa was helping himself to a dish of grapes, being held by a young girl, whose eyes held great fear for the Slave Master. He was a disgusting example of what wealth and greed had done to his massive bulk. Blood shot eyes peered out of blackened sockets, though he wore black eyeliner that gave him a more Egyptian look. The large oak and iron doors slowly were pushed open by two of his more illustrious guards, as the latest batch of slaves were being dragged before him for his perusal. Gangs of ten that were chained together by the neck and made to walk or at least try to with the heavy burden. Their frames were gaunt, and their skin darkened by the sun as they had walked many miles from the homeland where they had been stolen. How many had actually perished along the way remained to be seen, but the Slave Master was only interested in the fittest of this sad and sorry bunch. Chewing on yet another grape, his face contorted as he bit down on a seed that had struck a sensitive tooth.

“Bah…I hate seeds!” He spat with drool and spittle raining down from his over sized lips. He angrily knocked the girl that held the grape bowl off her feet, sending her to the floor, the bowl clattering and making a din. Pushing himself up and off the fur chair with a loud grunt as though the very idea of movement hurt his weak muscles. With a chubby hand, he wiped the gruel from his lips and descended the stairs, as the Slave driver stood back, whip in hand. A tall and lanky fellow, with a face like that of a rat. A long mustache and short goatee, he sneered at his collection of slaves, who all were terrified. Had they walked all this way only to die in the sight of this their new Master.

He ambled past them, prodding with the end of a large knotted end staff. Pinching their flesh, and even going as far as to check their teeth. A few of the women, though suffering malnutrition looked to be worthy of his furs, and he shouted in a strange dialect, to have them removed from the group chains, and taken to be prepared for service. The others….well. What fate would await them? There was of course either the army of slaves, or the games.

One would think that death was a better option.

From the far end of the room, the daughter of the Slave Master emerged. Dressed resplendently in a fine skirt with headdress and sandals. Her fingers, wrists and ankles adorned with fine beads and gold. Seeing the rows of slaves that had been brought in, she minced up to her father and purred.

“I want one.”

Question was…which one?

<3>

-They got to the palace and he stood and watched what happened next. He saw the man on the throne and knew that was the head slaver just by looking at her. he wanted to jump out and kill him right there, but he knew he had to get information, even when he knocked the girl down. His celestial cat blood screamed out to punish him for his wicked deeds but his Dragoneer training stooped him. He had a job to do first.

-Then he saw her, the slavers daughter, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. he watched her movements as she went up to her father and said- ” I want one” -He could not belive his eyes how could someone so beautiful want to do something so dark and ugly. He shook his head and watched and waited, waited to she what her father said and what fate would come of these slaves-

High atop one of the tallest peaks, the scouting party of the Njada, led by their leader Tagor; the gathering of horsemen surveyed the surrounding valleys and hills of their land, for possibly enemy movement, or settlements that were not approved by council. Tagor sat high in his horse as the sun beat down upon his tanned torso. Glistening with beads of perspiration, he reached for his leather water canteen, and took a drink from it, as the cry of a raven was heard making its way up the mountain pass. It was common for different houses to send ravens in order to relay messages from kingdom to kingdom, clan to clan. Noriand had many kingdoms in its domain, and while all the races were different, they did hold a common respect of law, and alliances, that were either from the betrothal of young or the offering of soldiers and stores to the cause.

Hearing the raven, one of the lead scouts held out his arm and made a strange call, which enticed the raven to land. On its foot, was a small bound parchment, and this was quickly torn off, as the raven squawked loudly.

“Read..to Tagor.” The Leader bellowed, as the scout nodded and unfurled the paper. He coughed and then began to read.

It is with Lord and Lady Karedric of Noriand greatest of joy, that they inform there rulers, noblemen, and people, The Birth of Jennifer Karedric, young princess of Noriand. They invite you to meet the princess when then time suits you, they wish you to not feel obligaited to present gifts only your presence is asked for, and join the celebration.

Regards,
Lord and Lady Karedric

Listening with a look of curiosity, he was unsure of these people – The Lord and Lady Karedric. Nobles, who had announced the birth of a young princess. Thinking for a moment, he had an idea. If they were to send a delegation to meet the princess, it may be good time for trade, as well as sure up any alliance talks. Also, he knew IIyra was with child, so the two women would have much to talk about. Women like that stuff, Tagor believed.

Tagor nodded, then said to his scout. “Write. Njada people come. Celebrate.” He was a man of few words, rather letting his actions speak for him. The scout immediately wrote up the reply, only one more detailed, and then fastened it to the raven’s leg. The bird was then released to return to it’s masters, and now that the scouting mission bore fruit, the Njada leader ordered them to return to the village.

~Some hours later~

Arriving back in camp, Tagor rode up to the corale, jumping down off his horse and handing the reigns to a small stable hand, before striding towards his tent, where he would find Jamai speaking to his woman – Illyra.

“When sun rises, we leave for Frichassa. Princess born to King. We Njada honor with horses and feast.” Tagor said, more or less explaining that they would be leaving with a caravan first light, to travel the dusty roads to Frichassa. Tagor smiled at IIyra and said.

“Princess…one day marry Njada.”

But would she?

<3>

Dyna pulled into the driveway of Shane’s home and cut the engine. It was mid-afternoon and she’d gotten a call from Carmen the night before letting Dyna know that she and Shane were taking some time for themselves and would return before the end of the month.

She looked at her companion. “You ready for this?”

“Oh yes. I always wanted to visit a house full of vampires.” came the snorted reply.

“Will you relax. It’s broad daylight and they’re sleeping. And we’re not going in the house, we’re going around back.” Dyna stated. The person beside her snorted. “Come on, Rae. Did I or did I not promise to help you expand your powers?”

Raelyn, “Rae” to her friends and “Boo” to her Uncle Booker, looked at Dyna and sighed.

“Yeah. And you think she can help?”

“Amelia is one of the best witches I know. You’ll be fine. Come on.” Dyna climbed out of the car, waiting for Rae to follow her before she headed around the back of the house.

“Yeah. Sure.” Rae sighed, plodding along behind her uncle’s friend.

Dyna reached the door of the guest house and knocked on the door, slipping off her sunglasses as she waited for Amelia to answer.

“Maybe she’s not home.” Rae shrugged, turning to head back to the car. Dyna snagged the young woman by the back of her shirt, keeping her in place.

“Raelyn Charlene Bradford, you promised your uncle you’d give this a try! Don’t be a chicken.” Dyna snorted.

“I’m not being chicken. It’s called a tactical retreat.” Rae huffed, struggling to get away. Dyna yanked on her shirt, causing the girl to nearly trip. “Dyna!”

“Rae!” Dyna chuckled. Rae huffed again and stood still, crossing her arms in annoyance.

“You’re evil.”

“So your uncle says from time to time.” Dyna chuckled, just as footsteps echoed on the other side of the door.

Within the pool house, along with the sound of footfalls coming towards the door, you could also hear the voice of its occupant. Not until she opened the door, would they see a girl that looked remarkably like a vampire, but was able to stand in the sunlight, and had a puppy that was chewing on her plait.

“Rusty!…Mommy’s hair is not a play toy. HI! Oh my gosh, Dyna it’s so good to see you.” Amelia said in a rapid fire of a greeting, and telling off of her puppy. “So nice of you to come over. Come on in.” She noticed Dyna had a young friend with her, and she stuck out her free hand.

“Hey…I’m Amelia, your just in time, I been whipping up some of my home made chilli.” Amelia beamed and took a step back, almost tripping over her kitten, that had come to investigate the fuss. Amelia picked up her tiny kitten with her other hand, and this set off the puppy who started yapping at the kitten. The witch frowned and smartly spun around and went to place the kitty on her cat tower; a well made carpet structure filled with tunnels and scratching poles. Ideal for wayward pussies. She set Rusty down on the tiles, and then closed the door after her guests were inside.

Amelia had really turned the pool house into her own domain, with a large shelving near her kitchen filled with specimen bottles and a bookcase that had dozens of books on everything from human biology and forensic science, to witchcraft and spells. The kitchenette smelt heavenly of the delightful taste of chilli that was simmering away on the reflective stove top surface. The big tv and black L shaped lounge took up a greater portion of the living area, and it was easy to see why Bianca was a common quest when the sun went down.

Amelia became animated, as she went to and from the fridge, taking out a bottle of wine, and some glasses from the cupboard.“You must be the first non vampire visitors I have had. Well…I don’t get many visitors here period. I mean, this place gets pretty wild at night. The main house. David and his lads have set up residency, especially with Shane and Carmen out of town. It was true, that David and his crew were staying at Shane’s house, since David and Shane no longer had to hide the fact that they did get on after all. Amelia quickly changed the topic of conversation “You girls like red wine?”Amelia asked, trying to explain how things were, and being a good hostess. She noticed young Rae looked uncomfortable, and said. “You are safe here…just in case you are worried.” Amelia said with a smile. “Only Shane is allowed in here, as the others have to be invited, and I am still a bit unsure about Jarvis…as cute as he is.” She realized she was rambling some, and walked out the tray of glasses and wine, and set them down on the coffee table near the leather lounge. Tangles, her snake watched on from in his tank, obvious curious to the strangers in the pool house. Amelia picked up her iphone and set it into her speaker tower, so she could play some tunes, for her guests, to help them feel more at home. Amelia had a love for eighties music, so the first song was an oldie but a goodie.

<3>

“Nice snake.” Rae stated, looking at Amelia.

“You must be the first non vampire visitors I have had. Well…I don’t get many visitors here period. I mean, this place gets pretty wild at night. The main house. David and his lads have set up residency, especially with Shane and Carmen out of town.” Amelia stated. Rae looked nervously around, as if expecting a vampire to jump out at her any second. Amelia noticed the look and set out to reassure the younger witch. “You are safe here…just in case you are worried. Only Shane is allowed in here, as the others have to be invited, and I am still a bit unsure about Jarvis…as cute as he is.”

Dyna jumped all over that piece of info.

“I knew it! You think he’s sexy!” Dyna crowed with delight. “You’ve got to know that boy is crazy about you! Why don’t you go out with him? Shane trusts him and Carmen thinks of him like her own. Take a chance, Ami!” she grinned as the three of them went into the kitchenette to feast upon Amelia’s chili.

Amelia was a bit surprised by Dyna’s enthusiasm over Jarvis. Sure, she knew Jarvis from the times she had been to visit Shane and Carmen, but Amelia knew that there was a different side to him. Maybe, she might let Jarvis into her world, but right now, after losing Rodger, and then Jason; Amelia felt that she was some how cursed in having relationships.

“I don’t know…” Amelia said, rubbing the back of her neck and turning her body awkwardly. Her face was creased as she just wasn’t sure about Jarvis. “I admit, he is sexy and all that…but I don’t fancy being his blood doll…or being turned. I mean, even if he could do that, I really want to at least have a choice.”

Amelia went to get three bowls out and then started to serve up the chilli with crusty rolls on the side. All had been warmed in the oven, and the kitchen had that wonderful fresh baked smell. Few people knew how much Amelia loved to cook, but what with living on her own for years, she really didn’t entertain much. Although Bianca was a regular at her pool house, Bianca wasn’t fond of chilli. Pouring out good size helpings, she took them over to the small dining table, just on the other side of the breakfast bar. With a large center piece of candles and little cat ornaments, Amelia finally sat down, when there was a knock at the door. Surprised at yet more guests, she excused herself, placing down her napkin and went to answer the door. Low and behold, it was Charmaine, Amelia’s friend who owned the local craft shop in town. She was carrying a brown paper package, and to look at her you would think she had just stepped out of a picture book, dressed in an outfit that screamed the sixties, a kaftan and with her hair in plaits, and moccasins on her feet.

“Hi Ame.” The girl embraced the startled Amelia as she stood in the doorway, half wondering what Charmaine was doing on her doorstep. When Charmaine released her, Amelia asked. “You’re doing your own deliveries?” Stepping back, she let Charmaine enter the pool house, and you could see that the girl was clearly in awe of the glamour of the room.

“Yes, can’t find good help in town, so now I do my own deliveries. Gosh Ame…woah, this is like totally not you. Why did you move here again?” The hippie witch asked Amelia, as she handed her the package. “The book you ordered, I figured you would want it right away.” Charmaine then noticed Rae and Dyna at the table and she cocked her head and beamed a wide smile. “Hellooooo, I’m Char..you must be Amelia’s friends. So nice to see her making mortal friends now.” At this, Amelia gave Charmaine a bit of a nudge with her elbow, to which Charmaine cried “Whhhaaa? What I say?”Clearly thinking that Dyna and Rae were human. Amelia set the book down, and then gave Charmaine something of a strained look. She could be so ditsy at times. “We were just having some chilli, home made, you want some?” Amelia asked, seeing as Charmaine really didn’t look like she was leaving in a hurry. This had Charmaine brighten and she nodded twice before dashing over to take a seat near Dyna and speak rapidly.

“You would be amazed by the sheer amount of magical energy in this very room. I mean, I get that feeling, that buzz. I don’t know, can’t describe it. It’s a gift.”

Amelia was dishing up another bowl of chilli and rolling her eyes. Sure, the girl had a good heart, but it was a pity her foot was always in her mouth. Coming back and handing Charmaine her bowl of chilli, Amelia was a little bit more forth coming on her guest’s antics. “Charmaine is one of the elders of the witches coven I am a part of.”

“Have been since….1969, oh..what a cosmic year that was.”

That made a lot of sense.

<3>

Deep within the woods, the white were dragged the unconscious vampire hunter back to a small winter cabin that was nestled deep within the forest. Unknown to many and signed to keep people off the property there was a family that lived here, that had kept their true identities a secret. Hearing the throaty growl as the she wolf dragged the injured man, the cabin door opened, and a semi naked man appeared. He stood, running his fingers through his shaggy unkempt hair, and saw the white were dragging something. Concerned, he stepped down off the porch, and ran over to where the white were stopped, and raised her head.

“Whose this?” The alpha said to his mate, who started to transform back into her human like form. Wiping the blood stains from her mouth, as she took full form, she said. “A hunter…but not one that likes deer. He was almost killed by a vampire. A new one.” The alpha crouched down and surveyed the man’s injuries, deeply concerned. “We can’t keep him here. Last thing we need is the authorities on our doorstep, asking questions.” Just then, the couple’s two sons emerged, and both came down to see what was going on. “Mom?” Rory asked, seeing the vampire hunter on the ground, who was now groaning lightly. “Let’s get him inside…then figure out what to do.” The twins helped carry the vampire hunter inside their cabin, as the Alpha kept a lookout for anyone that might have been watching them, before following his family inside.

Isabella’s Manor

Jason was one that loved to tease and play games with Isabella, and now that she accepted his proposal, he took off from the room, insisting she catch him if she could. In a blink she vanished from the den and reappeared in a swirl of mist in her room. She didn’t normally like playing chase, but she was in a good mood for now, and would oblige.

“Where are you, lover?” she crooned.

The Vampire Queen glided around the room, peeking behind curtains, and in her closet for him.

<3>

“Miss Incarceron, will that be all?”

Vern smiled at the guardian and winked, then laughed and nodded her head. “You really didn’t have to, but thanks. You can go if you have somewhere else to be.” Her classmate smiled back and shut the door to her dorm, and she listened a little longer as he sighed and walked down the hall. She wouldn’t be making the mistake of being silly with a Dhampir again, even if Alec was different from Mikhael.

She sighed herself and watched the snow fall outside, wishing she could go lie down in it and relish in the fact that it didn’t affect her at all. But she couldn’t do that, because the sun hurt more than being alone. She didn’t want to sleep yet, but she knew that she couldn’t very well go see the Headmaster with dark circles under her eyes or she might get staked on sight. That would be interesting for Dimitri to explain to her parents. She wondered if the Russian God of a Head of Security was on post at the moment. Her thoughts drifted to a few other Guardians, and then they landed on Guardian Chekova. Chekova was one of the most loveable Guardians at Vladimir’s, but everyone knew she would hand them their ass if they thought they could take her. As she readied for bed, Vern thought on night (or, day) several years ago those suspicions had bloomed to truth before her very eyes…

It was a hot night for Montana. Strigoi ran amuck about the outer grounds, taking down novices left and right. Vern was hidden in a hollowed tree. She was too young, her magic was not yet strong. She could see Dimitri among the fighters, his larger form taking down Strigoi after Strigoi. Of course, he was only subduing them for the moment – it generally took five of their best Dhampir’s to truly kill one of the worst Strigoi. Some older fire magic students were out burning the Strigoi, but they were being pushed into the tree-line by the Guardians. And then she saw her. Savina Chekova seemed to appear in thin air, driving her stake left and right. She dodged attacks and delivered expect blows. With her and Dimitri working together, the Strigoi numbers started to thin. What seemed like hours later, they were all gone. But Vern would always remember. Always.

Saint Vladimir’s – Campus Gates

Savina gazed out into the trees. The sun was just rising – most students were in bed. Most. She didn’t mind if the Dhampir wanted to enjoy the sun for a little while, as long as they stayed safe. Dimitri was a different matter, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Unless it did. Then it would be her fault. She didn’t want to think about that at the moment.

Footsteps crunched the leaves behind her, but she knew those footsteps. “There are more of them by the day. Sunlight is only so long. What’s to stop them from attacking again?”

Her companion didn’t respond. He simply remained behind the gates. She assumed he was watching her, but she didn’t know for sure. Dimitri must have sent him. Guardian’s worked best in pairs, but Savina had always had a way of avoiding being assigned a partner. Perhaps it was Dimitri himself, but that would be ridiculous. After all these years, that man still thinking she needed a protector would get him smacked down, regardless of academy titles.

Savina simply turned her head up towards the sunlight, closing her eyes and holding her stake out before her. Hopefully, it would be a peaceful watch, and an even more peaceful school night.

Charmaine suddenly took an interest in Dyna and Rae; her eyes darting between them when they both reacted to the news that she was a witch, and not just any, but an elder of the Coven that Amelia was a part of. Amelia quickly picked up her glass of wine, and skulled it back. Oh she knew that look that Charmaine had and now that her interest was seized, she was not about to let go.

“I knew it! It wasn’t just my senses tingling.” Charmaine believed that either Dyna or Rae had magical powers. The question was, who and why she had not come across this pair before. Had Amelia been keeping them a secret? Looking squarely at Dyna, she beamed a bright smile.

“Elder, yes I am. Been practicing the craft since as long as I can remember. Holly McCloud and I started the coven back in the summer of love…1967. A very cool time to be dabbling in the arts. Those warm summer nights, frolicking naked in the woods, and the joys of bonding with my fellow witches. I don’t know what I loved more..the drugs, or the music. But enough about the old days, I take it you have some questions?’ Charmaine asked, looking between the two ladies, then at Amelia, who seemed to be lost for words about the whole Woodstock reflection. The idea of Charmaine prancing naked around a fire erked her for some reason. Amelia did find her voice however and said.

“Charmaine runs the local craft store….for the arts. Everything you need to celebrate being Wicca and some darker magics.” She said, lazily toying with her spoon in her chilli.

<3>

“You’re a bit of a free-spirit. I like that.” she grinned. “No, I don’t have any questions, but…my girl, Rae, here is still developing her powers and hasn’t really gotten the hang of her control. Show them Rae.” Dyna suggested. Nodding, Raelyn directed her attention to a plastic bowl of fruit on the table. She gathered all her powers and concentrated hard. The bowl vibrated for a moment, an orange rolling out of it across the table before the entire bowl lifted into the air, hovering a few feet above the table. Rae’s concentration began to waver and the bowl shot toward the ceiling with the force of a rocket, smashing into the tiles and splattering bits of fruit and plastic everywhere, making everyone duck.

“Dammit! That always happens!” Rae growled, as Dyna patted her shoulder in support.

“You had it there for a moment, Rae. Don’t beat yourself up. You’ve just learned about your powers. You just need to exercise them a bit more. Then you’ll have the control you need.” Dyna sighed.

“How long did it take you?” Rae wondered.

“I don’t think I had full control until I met your uncle in college.” Dyna stated.

“That’s decades!”

“Rae…what have I told you?” Dyna scowled.

“True control is being in control. Don’t let your emotions rule you or that control will be weak at best.” Rae sighed.

CharlotteCarrendar: – It had been a long day at the command centre and with Brock only having one thing on his mind, and that was of course, Pandora. Soon as the clock hit five he snapped closed his study books and turned off the light on his desk, moving around the perimeter of his office and grabbing his flight jacket off the hanger. One of his mates was passing his office and peeked his head in, as Brock was putting on his jacket. ”Yo man, fancy coming down the Docks to have a few beers and play some pool?’ It was good of Mick to ask, but Brock only smiled and shook his head. ”I got the best looking gal in town waiting for me. Maybe some other night.” Mick saluted casually, before joining up with his buddies, while Brock ran the opposite way down the hall, to get to the carpark, and find his truck. :: Half an hour later, he pulled up in front of Pandora’s apartment building, with a big bunch of roses, and his flight bag. Locking up his truck, he made his way inside, thinking to himself of how he had to try and hold himself back and not try anything before he unveiled his surprise for the evening. Coming to her apartment door, he knocked, before standing back, hoping she was home. <3>

LadyBelz: It had been a long afternoon for Pandora…dealing with that twat at the gym, Kristian’s stupidity and Simone’s temper had put her in a foul mood. Of course, sitting through 4 hours of class on the inner workings of a Volkswagen Beetle didn’t help any either. By the time she got home from classes, she had the mother of all migraines. She got on the phone and called Denise, telling the woman that she owed her for covering for her ass the week before. Denise reluctantly agreed to take her shift at the Tongue that night, which made Pan grin in satisfaction. After taking something for her headache, she settled in with her books at her kitchen table, a cup of coffee near one hand and a cute pair of glasses perched on her nose, as the pain was affecting her ability to keep her contacts in. It wasn’t often she wore the glasses, but this was just one of those days. She was deep into an essay on combustible fuel when there was a knock on her door. Sighing, she set down her pen and got to her feet. “Coming.” she called out. She undid the deadbolt and chain before opening the door. Her smile was bright when she saw Brock standing on her threshhold, an arm casually placed behind his back. “Hi.” she stated, happy to see him.

CharlotteCarrendar: Brock’s face illuminated, just by seeing her standing there. He then remembered he was holding something behind his back and brought them round in a fluid movement, presenting them for her. ”Wasn’t sure what your favourite was…but I figured girls like roses.” He said with a bit of a sheepish grin. They were blood red, about a dozen of them surrounded by baby’s breathe. If she took them, he would then wait politely to be invited in. <3>

LadyBelz: Seeing him smiling back at her, made the whole ugly day simply vanish, along with her headache. So when he pulled the roses from behind his back, her eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open in shock. No one had ever given her roses before, and she had to admit that the woman that she was sat up and took notice. She took them from him, inhaling their scent before stepping aside to allow him to enter. She was entranced with the flowers, sniffing their scent as she closed the door. She took them into the kitchen to hunt for a vase (remembering that she had purchased one as an impulse buy when she was shopping for groceries) and placing the whole arrangement in the center of her coffee table. Once done, she turned to look at Brock, standing in the middle of the living room and she had to thank him for the flowers. Sauntering up to him, she slowly wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in to a hot and steamy kiss. Drawing back, she smiled. “Thank you for the roses.”

CharlotteCarrendar: – The kiss was one that would curl the toes off most men. For Brock it was one hell of a thank you. He had spent much of the day thinking about her, and how to spend the evening with her, but now he had her in his arms, which he wrapped around her instinctively, Brock was lost to her once again. Just like the morning, where in the kitchen they had consummated their love…and fast. The kiss broken and her words of thanks, he blushed a little, and said. ”Well, that is just one of the things I had in mind to get for you tonight.” What was he hinting at, she may well have asked. His flight bag was still near the door. ”I ..uhm want to take you somewhere very special for dinner. “ He said, a twinkle in his eyes. <3>

LadyBelz: Her curiosity was peaked as he made mention of more surprises for her. “Oh? Am I going to need to change?” she wondered, pointing to her “Made4Porn” Tshirt and jeans.

CharlotteCarrendar: Chuckling, he simply winked and walked over to his flight kit and picked the bag up, bringing it back over to the dining table, where he placed it down and undid the zipper. He pulled out a female flight suit and then presented it to her. “I’d love to see you in this.” he said with a smile.

LadyBelz: That was the last thing she expected and she took the suit from him, looking at it and then at him. “Do I need to be naked under this?”

CharlotteCarrendar: Brock simply let out a satisfied growl sound as he let his eyes cruise over her svelte frame. “A nice…lacy bra twin set would be nice.” The very thought of her being naked under the flight suit had him swallow hard.

LadyBelz: Grinning deviously, she draped the suit over her arm. “And where are we going, Mr Flight Jockey?”

CharlotteCarrendar: Brock merely swatted her backside playfully, and answered. “It’s a mystery…I could tell you, but then…I’d have to fuck you silly.”

LadyBelz: She grinned as he swatted her off to her bedroom. “Wanna help me…undress?” she winked before ducking into the next room with a laugh. She looked through her bureau, deciding on what to wear beneath the suit when her eyes landed on something she hadn’t worn in some time. Grinning, she quickly stripped out of her current clothing and slipped into the little two piece before pulling the flight suit on over it. It fit her perfectly. Pulling her boots back on, she decided to toss an extra set of clothes into a small bag before tying up her hair in a ponytail. Ready, she headed back to Brock and struck a pose in the doorway. “How do I look?” she smirked, the suit clinging to her svelte form like a second skin.

CharlotteCarrendar: How did she look? Like a Top gun pin up girl. The kind airmen fap to every night. “Like you were born to fly.” Brock said, grabbing up his kit bag, and then reaching for her hand. “This will be a night you won’t forget.” He intended to make that a promise. Leading her outside her apartment, and then allowing her the chance to lock up, he walked her to the lift, explaining to her that they were going to be heading to the private airfield that was owned by his father. It was about twenty minutes drive from the city, so while they were on their way, he would explain to her the safety aspects of what it was like to be on one of the family jets. This was not to do with the government military. Brock’s father was a keen aviator, something he had passed down to his son’s; each of them specializing in flying different kinds of craft, from jets, to actual rockets. :: Reaching the security check point, Brock stopped the truck and handed over his pass to the patrol officer. It was rigorously checked and then the boom gate raised as his truck was allowed to enter the top secret grounds. In the distance a huge grey aircraft hanger. There were at least six of them scattered across the vast air base. Pulling up outside hanger three, Brock leaned over to Pandora after turning off the engine. He whispered to her. “Trust me when I say this, you are the first person I have ever brought home with me.” <3>

LadyBelz: Happy just being with him, she allowed him to take her wherever he wanted to go, eagerly following him to his truck. She was bubbling with anticipation, wondering what the big surprise was as he drove them through the city. After pulling up to the gate outside an airfield, he drove them past the security checkpoint and toward an aircraft hanger. After stopping the truck, he told her that she was the first person he’d ever brought home with him. Her mouth dropped open in shock. He was taking her to his home? Her insides felt like jello as she stared at him. “Will your…family be there?” she gulped. She wasn’t sure she was ready for the whole “Meet the Boyfriend’s Family” thing yet.

CharlotteCarrendar: Undoing his seat belt, Brock shook his head. “Dad is on his honeymoon, and my brothers are all here at the flight academy. If they knew I was doing this, they would want front row seats.” Brock joked, stepping out of the truck and coming around to get her door. Opening it and offering his hand, he simply smiled. “I just want this to be about us.” His words filled with emotion, as he then pressed a sequence pad on the outside of the hanger. A huge roller door starts to rise and inside a jet that was of a kind no one had ever seen before. Built by his own father, the jet was a passenger one; a smaller but streamlined craft. It was the colour of titanium, with the markings of a spider on the tail. The interior lights of the hanger all came on in succession, as Brock led his lady to the side door, which began to detach and allow a series of stairs to lower. It was state of the art….in fact it looked futuristic in design. Brock gestured for Pandora to climb the stairs, as the ground crew emerged to help guide the plane out onto the runway for takeoff. <3>

LadyBelz: Nodding about the fact that they’d be alone, she undid her seatbelt as he came to escort her. She was seriously impressed with the plane as the hangar doors opened. The mechanic in her wanted to crawl into the engine and poke around its inner workings. A series of steps lowered and he indicated she go ahead of him. She smirked as she planted a foot on the bottom step. “You just want to look at my ass.” She stated, grinning. Putting an extra wiggle in her walk, she went up the stairs into the main cabin.

CharlotteCarrendar: Brock wolf whistled at her saucy wiggle, and climbed the stairs on after her, the door coming to close as the stairs retracted back into the craft. Brock placed his flight bag in an overhead compartment, before leading Pandora to the cock pit, where there was the spare seat near his. Brock was truly in his element, as he ran through a pre flight test, and all the indicators and switches came to life, as air traffic control buzzed the plane and Brock gave off his flight details so that he could taxi out. “This is Spider three requesting permission for take off.” He said, starting up the jet engines, as the ground crew started to wave flags to guide the plane out of the hanger. He eased forward on the controls, as the plane’s lights all came on, swirling under the wings and the tail tip. The plane rolled out slowly, but the roar of the engines was quite powerful. “Spider three, you have clearance, on runway two. “ That was all he needed as he taxied the plane out and turned it round, with the front now looking down the long runway, that was showing off the lights that led to the very end. The jet engines were turned up full, as the plane started to vibrate and then with a burst of power the jet took off down the runway, zipping past the other hangers before taking off into the sky, the wheels carriages being pulled up and locked into position as the craft went on a hard right tilt and then punched through the cloud cover going up to 25, 000 feet before switching to a cruising speed. At this Brock relaxed somewhat, as the radar blip showed their destination. The island. <3>

LadyBelz: Pandora had never flown before, as this was a whole new experience for her. She was unsure how she felt sitting on top of what amounted to a bomb on wheels. When the engine rumbled to life, vibrating everything around her, she felt her heart rate spike and clenched the arms of her seat. But Brock looked confident in what he was doing and she had to remind herself he did this every day for a living. She began to relax…that was until the plane started down the runway. She gasped at the sensation of being pushed back into her seat as buildings and land went by the windows in a blur. She grew excited as the plane slowly left the ground, a humming sound indicating that the landing gear had retracted. Once the plane was at a safe altitude and flying smoothly did she fully relax. She looked at him. “And I thought riding motorcycles at 100 miles an hour was a rush. That doesn’t even compare to this.” she chuckled.

CharlotteCarrendar: – Looking across at Pandora, who had white knuckles from gripping her arm rests made him smile. So this was a first for her? One of many he started to think, but seeing her excitement made it all the more enjoyable. “It’s in a field all of its own. Maybe we should see about getting you your wings.” He joked, before reaching across to take her hand and then bring it back to kiss it, before he went back to checking the controls. It was such a smooth flight, with the moon and stars as the backdrop, the night one of beauty to be flying above the clouds. Brock gave off little hints of where they were going, but soon enough the beeping started to show they were in range and approaching their destination. Brock started the descent through the clouds only to have them see what was the outline of an island. The Plane then started to do something very odd. With a burst of power, it started to slow in the air, before it began to hover. The most bizarre thing, it just stayed like that, as far below a large section of the forest seemed to give way to show a landing pad. The jet slowly lowered down till it touched down on the pad, the jets finally easing back to nothing. They had arrived. Brock started to turn off the aircraft, before he could see the tell tale light of someone approaching the plane from a small pathway that came from a large dome house like structure. “And that will be our one and only companion tonight. My father’s associate; Lady Bunton. She lives here when the rest of the family are on the mainland.” Sure enough it was. The well dressed woman who had her hair tied back in a bun, was holding up a large torch and peering at the jet. As the door opened, and Brock started down the stairs, Lady Bunton squealed. “Brock James Carrendar. What on earth are you doing home during semester?” But before she got her answer, she then spied Pandora. “We have a guest?’ she asked incredulously. Jemima looked back at Brock, who broke out a wide grin. “This…is my love, Pandora. I brought her home for dinner.” Lady Bunton was in shock. This was a first, even for him. She approached Pandora and smiled. “You must be very important to young Master Brock here. By the way, I am Lady Bunton, but you can call me Jemima.” She said, offering her hand to shake. <3>

LadyBelz: They had finally reached the island and Pandora had to wonder how he was going to land. All she could see were miles and miles of trees. She got her answer a few moments later when the plane went into some type of hover mode. Looking out the window, she was shocked to see a section of trees split apart to reveal a landing pad of some kind. She whipped her head around to look at Brock, as if seeing him for the first time. “What are you? Some kind of James Bond spy guy?” she giggled as the plane landed. A woman was waiting for them as they disembarked, scolding Brock from being away from school. She introduced herself to Pandora, who returned the gesture. Jemima was giving Brock a weird look, but Pandora didn’t notice as she was staring up at the large house-like structure. “Tell me that’s your house.” she whispered in awe.

CharlotteCarrendar: Brock placed an arm around Pandora and said simply. “It’s the family home. This is where I grew up.” Hi voice joyful as Lady Bunton led the pair to the main house. Lady Bunton had to ask. “I’ve already had dinner, but if you two want to take of the kitchen, be my guest.” Brock led Pandora into the expansive house, that was like one great building divided into section. The walls were a tepid glass that was not available anywhere on earth but there on that island. It was incredibly peaceful with next to no noise except the roar of the waves from the beach. “Hope you’re hungry, Pan.” Brock said, going into the kitchen to get out ingredients for dinner. <3>

LadyBelz: She looked around, eyes wide at his family home. It was definitely something she wasn’t used to seeing. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and lead her inside behind Ms Bunton, who told them they had free run of the kitchen. She held up her bag. “Is there some place I can change? This flight suit is a bit stifling.” she wondered, looking down at herself. It was hot on the island and she didn’t think she’d be comfortable wearing it the entire time.

CharlotteCarrendar: “You can change in my room. Just to the right of the kitchen, turn left and its the third door on the right.” Brock said, as he headed to the fridge to check for the ingredients he hoped to find. Being back home, there was a certain amount of freedom for the Carrendar boys, even if Lady Bunton liked to play Mother to them at times. Old habits die hard. Standing leaning against the fridge door, he hummed to himself as he surveyed the contents, then started taking out vegetables and chicken fillets. Carrying them over to the bench top, he set down the ingredients and reached for a cutting board. The knife block was to his right, and he went for the filleting knife to start on the chicken first after he had washed his hands. <3>

LadyBelz: Nodding at his directions, she left him to his work and went to change. His directions were easy to follow and she found his room on the first try. It was a nerd paradise. Every wall was crammed with books on rockets, science, and aviation. There were models of rocket ships and airplanes on whatever surface happened to be free from the massive amount of computer equipment that remained. She chuckled, amused as she dropped her bag on his bed, causing it to ripple. “Oooo, a water bed!” she grinned. There were numerous pictures on the wall of him and his father and brothers, and a really cute one of him holding some kind of science fair award she was going to ask him about. But there was a picture on the wall that really captured her attention. A young woman holding an infant child. The caption beneath the picture read “Palm Springs, 3 months old”. This had to be his mother, a real beautiful woman. Turning away with a sigh, she took off her boots so that she could remove the flight suit. Standing in bra and panties, she took out the clothes she would change into, making sure to brush out her hair. Checking her appearance in the mirror, she pronounced herself ready and returned to the kitchen, where the delicious smells of chicken cooking penetrated her nose. “Smells delicious.” she announced her return as she stood in the doorway.

CharlotteCarrendar: Brock had been slicing the chicken extra fine and started with browning it only a low heat, as he started to chop up the vegetables. In the midst of this, he grabbed a pot of water and started it on the boil for the pasta, which he would add last. The scent of the spices and herbs he was using would start to permeate through the air, and reach Pandora of course as she came back through from changing out of the flight gear. “Smells delicious” She said, as she stood in the doorway. Brock had a smug look as he chopped the spinach finely. “Well, let’s hope it tastes as good.” He was a master of this dish, and you could see by the way he moved around the kitchen, it was truly his domain in the family home. Taking a packet of fettuccine pasta out of the cupboard, he added that to the boiling water and kept a watch on it, then went to toss the vegetables and pine nuts in with the chicken pieces. Knowing Pandora was watching, he said. “Why don’t you help yourself to a glass of wine, and put something on the entertainment system? Dad keeps a heap of old records from when he and mum were dating.” <3>

LadyBelz: He didn’t even glance up as he worked, and she knew for a fact she looked damn good. Oh he was going to be swallowing his tongue later, she was sure of that. “Wine sounds delicious.” she agreed, turning to hunt down the entertainment system. It was an impressive piece of work, taking up an entire wall. She found the records Brock had referred to and looked through them all before selecting an old blues album by BB King. As the soft sounds of “Lucille” echoed around the room, Pandora found and poured two glasses of red wine for them. Dancing along with the music, she took both glasses into the kitchen, setting one down near Brock as he continued to work. “Your dad has quite the collection in there.”

CharlotteCarrendar: With the chicken and vegetables about done, he prepared the sauce which was a mix of cream and tomato with a dash of garlic and chili. The pasta was just about perfect, and he went to strain the fettuccine in a colander, while checking the meat. It was pretty clear that he loved to cook, and the fact that Pandora had on an eye popping number had managed to slip under his radar. Getting out two large pasta dishes, he set them to the side, before mixing through the pasta with the chicken and vegetables, then lastly adding the sauce. Tossing the ingredients all together, he filled the two plates with the steaming pasta dish, and popped a small garnish on the top of each. It was only then he raised his head as he heard the strains of BB King’s song Lucille, that he noticed Pandora. He actually coughed loudly, so surprised to see what she had on. “My dad? Oh..my dad’s collection. Yes, he is an avid music fan. Loves pretty much everything, save for country music.” He walked out from around the breakfast bar, and took up the two plates heading for the outer deck, where there was an outdoor table setting, that had been set by Lady Bunton earlier. Candles and the view of the sea was the perfect backdrop for dinner. Setting down the plates, he then waited for Pandora to join him, so he could pull out a chair for her. <3>

LadyBelz: She actually smirked when he finally got a glimpse of her, almost choking on his own spit, and the woman inside of her was doing a happy dance that she elicited such a reaction from him. He took up their plates and she grabbed their wine to follow him out to the outer deck, where a candle-lit table had been set up for them. With the view of the sea, it was a lovely scene to dine by. He set down their plates and pulled out her chair for her. She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Thank you.” She set down the two glasses she’d been holding and waited for him to sit before she took up her glass again. “Should we make a toast or something?” she wondered, new to this whole dating thing, unsure of what the proper procedures were for first dinners.

CharlotteCarrendar: – Taking up his wine glass, he charged the air a moment, and thought about what to say for the toast. “To a beautiful evening…with a gorgeous woman.” He then went to tap her glass with his before taking a sip of the wine. Setting down his glass, he took up his fork and spoon, then watched her expectantly as she was about to try his dish. “It’s Chicken and Spinach Fettuccine Mona Lisa.” That was a bit of a mouthful, and hopefully Pandora liked his cooking. <3>

CharlotteCarrendar: – Taking up his wine glass, he charged the air a moment, and thought about what to say for the toast. “To a beautiful evening…with a gorgeous woman.” He then went to tap her glass with his before taking a sip of the wine. Setting down his glass, he took up his fork and spoon, then watched her expectantly as she was about to try his dish. “It’s Chicken and Spinach Fettuccine Mona Lisa.” That was a bit of a mouthful, and hopefully Pandora liked his cooking. <3> (last post)

LadyBelz: She sipped her own wine after the toast and took up her fork. After he announced what it was, she was hesitant to try it, but she was nothing if a rebel and put a forkful into her mouth. The first taste of flavor across her tongue made her eyes go cross and she looked down at her plate as if she’d never seen food before. She took a second bite to make sure she wasn’t imagining things and she nearly moaned. “This is delicious!” she exclaimed, looking at him. He seemed tense, as if he was waiting for her verdict. “Why didn’t you become a chef instead of a pilot? You could put some of those gourmet places out of business!” She wondered as she continued to eat. Pandora was not a woman easily impressed…but Brock had managed it in no time at all.

CharlotteCarrendar: Brock’s cheeks flared at the mention of her really liking his dish. He was chuff about her comment, but what she said after that required him to explain why he had chosen a different career path to that of a chef. Setting down his fork for a moment, he braced his elbows on the table and said simply. “When the family is all into aviation, you kinda go with the flow. Dad has certain expectations of us, and …being a chef is not up there. Not in his opinion. But…I get to cook whatever I like when I am home, and my brothers sure as hell don’t complain.” Brock watched her tuck into the meal with gusto and he had to wonder how she would cope if he did a five course meal. This was just a simple dinner in his mind. “Do you cook?” <3>

LadyBelz: “Do you cook?” he had asked, right when she was taking a sip of wine. She nearly choked and had to turn her head away to keep from coughing all over the place. Once she’d gotten herself under control, she looked at him. “Darlin, if I tried to cook, I’d probably burn my apartment down. I do the occasional spaghetti and meatballs…but beyond that, not at all.” she chuckled. “Mom wasn’t exactly forthcoming with the cooking lessons and I loathed home economics in school. I told my councilor that I wanted to take auto shop class or I was going to drop out of school.”

CharlotteCarrendar: Pandora’s reaction was something of a surprise. Well, that and he thought she was going to spit the full glass of wine all over her clothes. Turns out she wasn’t one for cooking, and her mum wasn’t exactly forthcoming with teaching her the basics. Brock could see the humor in it, and then he twirled some pasta on to his fork with his spoon, and held it up, saying; “Least one of us can.” He had a point. “Well, how about we strike a deal. You fix my truck when it needs a service, and I cook you meals…like this.” Fairs fair. <3>

LadyBelz: “Deal.” she grinned, going back to her meal. “So…tell me about the science fair project you won first place for.” she grinned.

CharlotteCarrendar: “How did you find out about..?” Brock started, then realized she had gotten changed in his room. She must have been looking at his family wall. The one with all his pictures and mementos. “Yeah…” He set down his fork and eased back in his chair casually, both hands going behind his head as he recollected that. “I had to build a scale model rocket for class. Dad…decided to make it a little…too realistic. Scared the heck out of my Science teacher when it actually blasted through the roof. Hole was about…two metres across. Heh, Johnny Meyer’s whole face was like…black with…burn marks. But..yeah, I won that year. Dad..he couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. He did pay for the new roof though.” It was quite the tale. <3>

LadyBelz: Pandora listened to this tale, amusement sparking in her eyes. She laughed out loud as he described putting a hole in the roof and his father’s reaction to it. “Your dad has been a big part of what you do, huh?” she mused, finding no fault with it. She wished her own mother had been more supportive, more “there” for her and her brothers growing up. Pushing thoughts of Denise from her mind, she returned her attention to the man sitting in front of her. “I could tell he’s proud of all of you.” she nodded. She then looked at him shrewdly for a moment. “If there was one thing you could want in the entire world, that no one could take away from you, what would it be?”

CharlotteCarrendar: “My mother.” Brock said simply.

LadyBelz: “How old were you when she died?” Pandora asked in a soft voice. She could hear the pain in his voice when he gave her his answer and it made her heart hurt.

CharlotteCarrendar: “Six months. I think. Dad…tried his hardest to make up for her, not being there. I guess that is why he is so big in our lives. Trying to be two people, instead of just Dad. Must have been hard. Five boys, as well as his career.” Brock brought his hands out from behind his head, and reached for his glass of wine, just rocking it back and forth as though deep in thought. Perhaps she had just found his weakness.

LadyBelz: She reached across the table and placed her hand over his wrist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories for you.” she murmured, kicking herself for asking such a banal question.

CharlotteCarrendar: Brock placed his hand on top of hers and offered something of a weak smile. “It’s really okay, I mean…..this is the family home, and you would have seen by the family wall what they mean to me, even my four brothers.” He knew she meant well and was trying to show understanding in what was a loaded question. “Lady Bunton was around a lot, though she is not really mother material, more like…a nun in Gucci. Personally, I think she had something for Dad, but he was so busy with us boys, I don’t think he really noticed. Course, Dad is married to Tessa now, so…I guess Lady Bunton missed her chance.”

LadyBelz: The music on the entertainment center changed to something slow and romantic and feeling a bit womanly, Pandora had the urge to slow dance. She wiped her face with her napkin and got to her feet. Brock needed a distraction from the melancholy thoughts and she was just the woman to provide him with one. She went around to his side of the table and held out her hand to him. “Would you honor me with a dance?” she asked.

CharlotteCarrendar: “Of course.” Brock said, placing his napkin over his plate and then rising to standing as he took Pandora’s hand. Her hand was so small compared to his own, and he towered over her. The music was now definitely slower and mellow, ideal for a slow dance. He took her in his arms, in a typical dancer hold (hand to the base of her back and left hand holding her right). The night air had a freshness about it; the salt of the sea and the tropical flowers combined gaze off a heavenly scent. With the candles and torches blazing, it created an ambiance that was hard to describe. Somehow though, it felt right to Brock. He tilted his head down to look at her and said. “I’m really glad you came out here tonight.” <3>

LadyBelz: Even with her heels on, he was still taller than her, but she fit into his arms as if she was meant to be there. “I’m glad I accepted.” she smiled as they moved together. “My night probably would have been spent doing homework in front of the tv with a box of pizza. But this is so much better.” she grinned, her hand toying with the hairs at the base of his neck.

CharlotteCarrendar: – Brock chuckled. “Hey, no knocking pizza. My brothers used to think we were ninja turtles as kids…much to my Dad’s horror, and we were always trying to order pizza. Mind you, the pizza store had no idea how to find us. Those frozen ones are pretty crappy though.” Brock made a bit of a face, and then continued to sway with Pandora in his arms. She was teasing his hair on the back of his neck with her fingers, and he reacted by pinching her right ass cheek. <3>

LadyBelz: When he reached down to pinch her cheek, she gasped and reacted by poking him in the side, on the off chance that he was ticklish. “Evil man.” she grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.
CharlotteCarrendar: Pandora, being coy? Even Brock found this amusing when she kissed his cheek. “Now, now I won’t be able to wash that side of my face. I will need a big Tshirt that says, “Pan kissed mah cheek” Course, people would have to wonder which cheek he meant. The wine had loosened Brock up a little, and he did a little spin and dipped Pandora before planting a kiss on her nose. <3>

LadyBelz: Laughing, Pandora was twirled in his arms and dipped, nearly falling out of her suit top as he kissed her nose. The smile slowly slide from her face as they resumed their dance. “I am having a really great time this evening, Brock. Thank you for inviting me.”

CharlotteCarrendar: “My pleasure. Oh..I almost forgot.” Brock said, releasing Pandora for a moment, and then digging about in his jacket, before pulling out a black velvet box. It was from an expensive jewelry store in the big city. “I…got you something.” He said, offering her the box. It wasn’t a ring box, it was too big for that. <3>

LadyBelz: She was surprised when he mentioned he’d gotten her a gift. She hadn’t been expecting anything from him except dinner and excellent company. Wary, she took the box and slowly opened it. Setting on black velvet was a silver cuff bracelet with a large black onyx set in the center. She gasped at the beauty of it. It was something she would have definitely picked out for herself. “Oh my god, Brock! It’s exquisite!” she exclaimed, lifting it from its velvet cushion. She slipped it onto her right wrist, marveling at how comfortable it fit. “I love it. Thank you.” she stated, wrapping her arms around his neck and drawing him into a kiss.

CharlotteCarrendar: Pandora’s reaction. Priceless. Brock couldn’t get the grin off his face as he watched her slip the bracelet on. The jeweler said that it would be the perfect gift for a woman on the first real date…so to speak. He was shocked however, when she drew him into a very passionate kiss, and he easily wrapped his arms around her and gave himself to her. Kissing her back as eagerly, before pulling back and catching his breath. “You’re welcome.” He said, almost breathlessly. <3>

LadyBelz: Unknown to Brock, they had somehow ended up near the pool and feeling a bit sneaky, she decided to have a little bit of fun with her (dare she say it?) boyfriend. She stepped away from him and removed the sarong she had tied around her waist. “So…what do you think of my swimsuit?” she asked, her voice going deep and seductive all of a sudden. It might just put him on his guard at the change in her behavior. But a girl had to try, right?

CharlotteCarrendar: “Oh..myyy.” Brock did an impersonation of his favourite sci fi show star. She was certainly being saucy in her teeny bikini. He was almost tempted to say, where is the rest of it? He stepped towards her and pulled the sarong slowly from her hand and tossed it over his shoulder. “I didn’t know you could swim.’ He joked, as he tore off his shirt. <3>

LadyBelz: She actually purred like a feline when he took his shirt off, his broad chest and shoulders catching her eye. “Mmmm…I swim very well. I work as a lifeguard at the beach during the summer.” she grinned, turning around so he could get a very good look at all her…assets, before she faced him again. “Question is…can you swim?” she smirked, pushing her hands against his chest, hoping he wouldn’t realize he was right at the edge of the pool and would fall in.

CharlotteCarrendar: She pushed just hard enough for Brock to actually fall backwards into the pool….with his flight pants on. He vanished under the waters only to come up, his hair plastered to his head. “Well that was dirty tricks.” He then blew a small amount of water from his mouth. <3>

LadyBelz: Pandora couldn’t help it. Seeing him in the water with his hair plastered to his head, she broke out into gales of laughter, clutching her arms around her stomach as tears rolled down her face. She didn’t realize that she herself was standing at the edge of the pool and it was only a matter of him reaching out to grab her ankle if he dared.

CharlotteCarrendar: And reach out, he did. As her eyes were filled from tears of laughter, he gripped her by the ankle, and then reefed her so she would be off balance enough to fall in. <3>

LadyBelz: With a squeal, Pandora went arse over kettle into the pool with a loud splash. She came up for air a moment later, spitting and sputtering and her soaked hair in her face. Her mouth was open in shock. “Brock!” she exclaimed, swiping her hair from her eyes. “Oh you are so going to pay for that.” she grinned, splashing water at him.

CharlotteCarrendar: Her screaming his name was worth it. Oh she looked like a drowned rat – an adorable drowned rat. “But…dear, you are wearing a bikini and the whole point of those is…to get wet.” He said with a broad smile, taking the splash with a flick of the head. “Oh stop…please. You deliciously wet thing you.” <3>

LadyBelz: “Hardy har har. Smartass.” she chuckled. “Besides…you like it when I’m wet.” she winked at him, before turning and swimming for the other end of the pool. It felt good to stretch her muscles in such a way. It wasn’t often she got to swim like this, between school and work her free time was limited.

CharlotteCarrendar: With a crooked smile, Brock mused. “That I do, Pan…that I do.” Enjoying watching her swim to the other side of the pool, he started to plan what he was going to do to her…when she got out. <3>

“So, are you letting Elena leave?” Said with a cat like smile, before she then realized he had something for Caroline. “What is it with Miss Sunshine anways? Always so chipper. I swear, if she farted it would be a rainbow.”

<3>

He stood from his seat, grabbing a glass of half finished scotch he had. His face a bit more stern. I suggest that tonight you play the adoring Sistah and cheery High School Cheerleader. Be nice to Caroline and my Guests. None of your pouting. It’s a party after all. His tone lightened again, just like that and he was smiling at her, albeit with that sinister edge that always existed in his eyes.

-The bullhorn resounded again through Fjords of Greyfell. Natsiya nodded to her other three riders, with a second warning glare shot towards the young male. The large riding wolves growled lowly then leaped forward with restrained anticipation. Covering large ground they galloped down the tracheas cliff side along a narrow path usually meant for humans.

The third wolf, who bore no flag or even packs, was Natsiya’s second in command. As the wolves ran her white cloak flew from her head releasing the long silky black hair to flow with the wind, a female ice wolf. They took a turn around a large boulder and came out onto flat land. The path of the village just ahead of them.

“halt,” Natsiya called out to the wolves. The flag bearer and the young male stopped behind the two females. Natsiya nodded to the male carrying the light blue flag and he handed it off to the second in command.

“I and Kazia will approach first, when we call out, then you may follow,” she said to the two men.

“Is all this precaution really that necessary Natsiya,” Kazia asked as they egged there wolven mounts to continue onward towards the village gates.

Natsiya chuckled and smiled at her companion, “not really, but I don’t want that pup thinking I’m any different outside the den, he acts like he still needs to suckle his mother’s teat,” she commented with a short snort.

Kazia returned the sound and gave her pack leader a meaningful look, she was a wonderful alpha, and though very rough with the males, as they should be, she cared for all of them deeply. One might even say Natsiya loved her pack members openly, though the hard expression she wore for the most part might have told someone differently.

As per usual, the Ice wolves didn’t feel cold temperatures, and could dress in most clothings that one might see in summer settings. Mostly made of animal skin, furs and leather. Both Natsiya and Kazia wore fur skirts and a cropped leather tunic that hugged there skin. There feet were bound in leather and had a layer of fur wrapped over the tops of their boots. Kazia’s black wolf tail was wrapped around her waist while Natsiya’s was in full display at the side of her hip the end of it doing a slight happy little wag.

The ice wolf’s mount’s came to a stop as the village guard were seated lazily on either side of the village rode. About four of them, leaning on their vicious battle worn axe’s and a face to match them. They were skilled worriers, they didn’t need to be standing at the ready for action, they were already ready. Many of the inhabits stole glances at the strange riders, it had been a full year sense the Vollan wolves had come down from the mountain’s to visit the village. In that year, leaderships could have change, loyalties, and even feelings towards the wolf shifters.

“hail, The Vollan wolf pack come’s for trade, we bring with us are fur’s from the season and offer a portion of this season’s battle beasts litters, they are well trained wolves, great hunters, and even more ferocious killers in battle,”Natsiya said, not hiding any facts on why there pack had shown up.

“We have been listening for the bullhorn, we hope it’s arrival of the trade ship, some of our supplies are wearing thin,” her second in command spoke up as well.

Being women many would have probably waved them off, but the village had encountered ice wolves before, they knew that the females were in charge in there den’s, they would never let a male handle the affairs of the clan, even with outsiders. That and female ice wolves have a nasty habit of making ice spikes grow out the ground if you pissed them off enough.

“Aye, the ships have returned, you wolves weren’t far behind, you must have been sniffing at our heels for days,”one guard said, a big hulking man that when he stood, seemed to just continue to stand until he touch the sky.

“can you blame us, we have needs to, and rabbit fur and deer carcass only go so far,” Natsiya responded and nodded waving her hand towards the other two wolf riders that were waiting.

The two joined them and two of the guards approached the sled wolf inspecting there cargo to be sure they were telling the truth of what goods they were carrying. There were no wolf pups, instead there was a roster listing names of pups and the sir and dams. Pups would be delivered on a separate occasion.

Once they completed the task they waved them on through. They continued walking Natsiya leading them towards the docks. Some might have given them quick glances, others stared openly, and children most of all, would run up and steal quick touches on the giant wolves sides given them little scratches that the wolves didn’t seem to mind.

She was pretty sure, that the chieftain would hear soon that the Vollan pack was in the village. She hope so, she did have a few things to discuss with the Ghar, particularly about problems they were having with another wolf shifter tribe trying to intrude on the hunting grounds they shared with the Ghar house.-

The whistle sound of the shield being thrown, hummed through the air and thankfully, our cranky Viking was paying attention. Never turn your back on an angry woman. He had learnt this before, and would have suffered again, had he not spun round at the dying seconds, with his battle axe aloft and struck at the spinning shield, sending it off course and hitting the ground hard. For all her ranting, he had to concede one fact, she was mighty pretty when mad.

Grunting angrily, he gripped his axe and proceeded to march up towards his Father’s main meeting hall, where the council of elders and his Father; the Chieftain would be waiting.

Sure enough, the guards were stationed outside the large oak building, and stood aside as Valkrik entered the double doors. A hush fell over the room, as Valkrik walked between elders and fellows alike, till he came to stand before the podium where his Father’s fur covered throne sat. His father looked every bit the Chieftan as he nodded to acknowledge his son’s return.

Valkrik knelt before his father, lowering his head in recognition and respect, while the large fire pits burnt brightly either side of Honrick’s chair. There was silence for a moment, and then the Chieftain spoke.

“Valkrik, you have returned to us victorious, with a good bounty of goods and slaves. Already the traders are champing at the bit to see your cargo. Odin be praised.”

There was a cheer from the surrounding elders, and Honrick gestured for his son to stand. The Chieftain came down from his chair, and placed his right hand on Valkrik’s left shoulder firmly. “I wish I could offer you as good news, Son. But alas, I must inform you that your Uncle Tebas passed away during the last week of your voyage home.”

This was a shock to Valkrik, who had learnt so much from the wise and powerful warrior in his youth. Valkrik’s eyes were full of questions for how he died, and the Chieftain recognized this at once. His fingers dug into his son’s shoulder, as though it pained him to say it.

“Hunting….he was hunting Elk…and killed by a great bear. He died with his sword in his hand. The bear was captured and slain.” Valkrik let out a sigh, for at least his Uncle died with honor, carrying his weapon to the very end. It assured him passage to Valhalla. The Chieftain lowered his hand from his son’s shoulder and then walked with him to the large window that overlooked the village, gesturing to his Uncle’s house.

“Today we go down and ask one of his women to join him on his final voyage. I want you to come. The Angel of death must perform the rites, and prepare his ship for the passing over.” Valkrik knew what this entailed, and kept his silence, only nodding in reply. It was not openly spoken about what happened when a noble died. Steeped in tradition, they had customs to perform that would shock those of the southern lands.

“I shall go with you, as you wish, Father.” Valkrik replied, as his father looked on, thankful to his son’s loyalty. The Chieftain then noticed the drops of blood, coming from Valkrik’s nose and pointed at it, saying; “Eyyrs?”

“Mhm.”

“Need to get her married. So she can beat up someone else.”

“Mhm.

<3>

It took some time for Eyyrs to calm down after the fight with her brother and she was feeling pretty low for her behavior. Valkrik had just gotten back and she went at him like the devil. Her love for him demanded she apologize, but her pride as a warrior would not let her.

With a sigh, she gathered up the things she needed to launder and a rock cake before leaving her hut and heading to the river.

There were a few other village women tending to their own things and after greeting the daughter of their Chieftain, they left her alone. She found a secluded spot out of view of the others and set to cleaning her clothing, checking to see if any of her garments needed mending or replacing as she did so.

Setting them across some rocks to dry, she removed what she was currently wearing and waded into the waters to cleanse her body more thoroughly then she had when she was with Soren.

With the water lapping at her thighs, she dipped her hands into the clear liquid and splashed it against her skin, shivering a bit at its coolness. Taking up the rock cake, she rubbed it along her arms and legs as she began to sing a song.

Her soft voice carried with the breeze, unknown to her, and several people stopped to listen for a few moments before they continued their activities.

One of those who heard the sweet sound was Quartermaster Soren, who’d come down from the Fjords with a new group of horses to house in the stables. With a wicked grin, he passed on the duties to a stableboy before he went in search of Eyyrs. The wench was going to warm his furs whether she liked it or not.

He quickly sought a path that would bring him behind her and out of her line of sight and he salivated as he watched her bathe. Her back was to him and he itched to get his hands on the rounded globes of her bottom as they glistened with water. She bent over to wash the lather from her legs and he nearly moaned when he caught a glimpse of that place between her thighs were he had planted his mast only hours before. He wanted to do so again and felt himself harden at the thought.

Grinning, he quickly stripped himself of his outer breeches and braes until he stood naked, proud as any warrior in the village and erect.

Trying not to splash to alert her to his presence, he slipped up behind her, slipping a hand between her thighs as he did so.

Eyyrs, who had thought she’d been alone, screeched like a banshee when she felt the hand between her legs caressing her sex. She recognized the hand, having just been with him that morning. She shoved herself away from him, turning at the same time, covering her breasts as she did so.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” she yelled, glaring at him.

“I’ve come to claim you as mine. And make no mistake Eyyrs of Ghar…you will be mine before this day is out.” Soren grinned. Eyyrs cursed herself for not bringing her weapons with her…but she wasn’t exactly expecting to be stalked while having a private bath.

“Come near me and I’ll kill you.” she hissed. Soren took up her challenge with gusto, charging at her full speed. Eyes wide, Eyyrs knew she didn’t stand a chance with her being naked. She was beginning to regret being with him, if this was the result. She turned as much as the water would allow and made a run for shore.

She had just reached the edge when she was tackled from behind. She fell to the ground, the wind knocked from her as Soren flipped her onto her back, pinning her arms to the ground. She started to kick, hoping to catch him off guard and between his legs, but he simply used one hand to pin her wrists and the other to grab a leg to pull her open. She fought all the harder as she recognized what he was about to do.

His head descended and he bit at her left breast, causing a flare of pain through her body. She was beginning to become frightened.

“Get off me, you great oaf!” she shouted.

“When will you realize that you are mine. I own you.” Soren grinned, planting his larger body between her legs. She could feel him, large and hot against her thigh. She fought harder but it was like moving stone with a feather. He began to slide into her and she screamed loudly, the sound echoing across the valley.

No sooner had Valkrik left the main hall after hearing of the news of the death of his Uncle, he suddenly heard the screams of a woman, and it was coming from the River. At first he just stopped at the sound, but then…he recognized the voice.

“Eyyrs” He muttered. What on earth had she gotten herself into now? Always so willful and wild, it was bound to catch up with her, as she held no respect for men, her father or him. The screams rang out across the valley, and many stopped on hearing it. Most cast their eyes down, for they knew better than to get involved in some domestic. Perhaps she had been toying with a man from the village, and he finally came to took what he believed was his. Words that she had said earlier played out in his mind, as he broke into a run, racing for the place where the screaming was coming from. Like the very wolf of the night, he sprinted into the forest, ducking and weaving. The fact was he was one of the fastest men in the village, but little did they realize there was a reason for this. It was not some natural ability….for he was not a true human Viking. He was something that even the Gods would fear.

He finally broke through the clearing and there on the bank of the river, was his sister, being raped by QuarterMaster Soren. Valkrik skidded to a halt in the river stones, at first shocked at what he was seeing. The brutality that this man displayed as he ploughed into her vigorously, grinning as he did so. And then…he made the fatal mistake. He turned his head and saw Valkrik standing there. Soren just smiled wider and went right back on to biting Eyyrs’s breast aggressively, to mark her forever more as his.

Something inside Valkrik snapped. The very air in the clearing grew colder as the winds picked up and blew about the trees. Valkrik’s eyes turned to the colour of coal, from their usual blue as his fists curled up in rage. Then a god awful howl emerged from his lips, as he raced straight for Soren, gripping the man by his plait and tearing him back off his sister so violently, that he actually tore the man’s scalp. Soren was now hanging up at Valkrik’s hand, his eyes wide in terror, as a demonic voice croaked out in anger.

“Wae-de-de qae-de-peah-teaez ooahee, z-haohq-fe.” (“Hell welcomes you, Spawn”)

In one sickening movement, Valkrik’s right fist blasted through the man’s chest, ripping out his heart that was still beating and tore it free. Soren screamed in agony, as blood spewed across the Viking before him. His body jerking out of control before his soul finally left his body, bound for the pits of hell.

Valkrik tossed the blooded corpse to the side where its blood flowed along the pebbles into the very waters of the River. He fell back and then held up his hands, realizing what he had just done. The viking started to go into shock, for the truth of what his nightmares had foretold had now been played out to the full. He no longer even knew what he was anymore. Staggering back further he let out a cry that was inhuman, before turning and running off into the forest, leaving Eyyrs to the villagers that may well have been near.

<3>

Eyyrs lost track of time as Soren rutted above her. She began to wonder what she’d done to be treated this way. She hadn’t lead him on, hadn’t given him any type of encouragement and yet…

She shuddered violently as he continued, wishing for the torment to be over.

And then…it was…

One moment Soren was between her legs, the next he wasn’t. Blinking she raised her head to see Valkrik had Soren by the throat and watched in surprise and no small amount of glee as her brother ripped out Soren’s heart through his chest cavity, tossing away the body in a howl of rage.

“Valkrik?” she muttered, watching as whatever rage had overtaken her brother disappeared into the wind. He seemed to be in shock as he stared at the blood upon his hands. He turned away from her and ran into the woods.

Eyyrs stared at the spot he disappeared into, eyes wide, before her gaze was drawn to the dead body of the former quartermaster. She gathered herself together, wincing in pain as she did so. Stumbling back into the river, she washed away the evidence of Soren’s savagery before she pulled on her clothing. She was worried about her brother and was unsure where to begin looking for him.

She needed to speak to her father. Only he would know where her brother had gone…she hoped.

Gathering her things, she headed back to the village, moving as quickly as her aching body would allow.

Honrick of Ghar had left the Grand hall after speaking with his son Valkrick; who had just returned from a long voyage with much cargo and slaves for trade. It had brought him comfort to know that his son fared well on his first journey beyond their lands, and while they had serious matters to deal with, he knew that Valkrik would have other dealings before he could meet up with the Chieftain at the house of his dead brother.

There was much activity down beyond the housing settlement, where the trade halls were established. Already there were many traders lined up to see just what had been brought back on the ship and they were not dissapointed. At least thirty slaves and a good quantity of furs, weapons and goods that had been seized during the raids.

One of the ship’s second commands, was overseeing the handling of goods, as it was set in piles, and being accounted for, while two guards ensured that the slaves were locked up and unable to be a danger to themselves or their traders. The Chieftain entered the hall, commenting to his off sider that the ship had indeed brought back a good bounty, that would ensure that those that traded with the settlement did not go away empty handed. The family also benefited from this, with the jewelry and weapons that were seized. Valkrik had done his father proud.

Already, one of the slave masters was sizing up the women that had been brought back. Tilting their heads back with a walking stick that had a knarled end. He also checked their teeth and hair. No doubt the women would need to bathe, for a few smelt pretty bad. That would have to wait of course, till after the trading had finished.

<3>

As Eyyrs stumbled through the woods, a sound to her left caught her attention and she paused, trying to breathe through her nose as she listened. It was the sound of footsteps, heavy.

“Brother.” she whispered, abandoning her plans to tell her father what had happened. Her brother meant more to her then anything, and if he was in some kind of distress, she needed to help him.

She turned and followed, catching a glimpse of Valkrik’s plaited hair in a gap through the trees. She rushed to catch up to him.

“Valkrik! Wait! Please?” she begged.

What happens when a man realizes that he is not a mere mortal, but able to commit such violent acts and with such power to kill another man instantly? Everything Valkrik believed himself to be was shattered within a split second, as soon as he held the still beating heart of the Quartermaster in his hand. The anger and rage had subsided, but been replaced by bewilderment and shock. He kept hearing that dark demonic voice in his head; whispering and taunting him to just let go. Valkrik came to a clearling and feel to his knees, reaching up to the sides of his head and banged his fists against it to make the voice stop. But the truth was, it was his inner self calling out to him. Trying to soothe his troubled mind.

“You are what you are.” The voice repeated with a menacing echo. Valkrik wailed and leaned forward, as he started to be physically sick, but at the same time, great wings erupted from his back. This scared him to death. He jumped to his feet, as his wings flapped independently and he started to lift off the ground. His leather sandals tore away as taloned feet replaced his normal human looking feet. His face was riddled in horror as he drew up his hands before him, seeing the long black claws. His face even started to change. Longer with a defined chin, and cat like eyes of yellow replaced his sea blue ones.

It was then he heard his sister; Eyyrs. She was looking for him and finally caught up.

“Valkrik! Wait! Please?”

He couldn’t let her see him like this. He curled his wings around his body and huddled near a large oak tree; crying out;

“Go away!”

But would she?

<3>

“Go away!” she heard him shout. She shook her head. She wasn’t going to leave him to whatever demons were chasing him away from her.

She burst into the clearing and at first she didn’t see him. There was a large mishapen form sitting in the middle of the dirt, moving slighly, small snuffling noises coming from it.

“Valkrik?” she whispered, moving closer. Though he was not a true brother of her blood, there was a bond of love between them and she could always sense when he was near. “Brother.” she stated. She reached a hand out and placed it lightly upon where she assumed his head was.

“Brother…look at me. Please?” she whispered, swallowing back her apprehension. Something had happened to him, something it seemed even he could not face. She would be damned if she was to be chased off in his time of need. She loved him too much to simply abandon him. He had not abandoned her in all the years they’d lived as siblings.

Whatever happened…they would face together.

She moved around to his front and saw the tips of the wings covering his form. She sank to her knees before him, running her hand along the leathery texture. She could hear him, crying behind his protection and she reached a hand between the wings, pressing it to his rough cheek, feeling his tears as they slid across her hand.

She was a warrior and she was unafraid.

She waited him out, waiting for him to lift his head and see the one who loved him the most, kneeling before him and lending him support.