ArtisticVicu
Member
"Were you created by magic because I can't help but be amazed by you."
She shuddered in disgust, turning a sharp glare on the speaker not caring he was well ranked above her. Straightening herself to her full height, she bit back, "When were you born because I can't tell if I'm talking to a Prince or a newborn."
She could feel Drake's horror-stricken gaze on the back of her head as Bjorn didn't even bothering to mask his booming laughter. The dwarven's blunt nature was often mistaken for rudeness. She was glad it was rubbing off.
Instead of giving the anxiety radiating off of Drake any foundation, the Prince beamed at her, his chin coming up with the force of his apparent enjoyment. She forced her hands to remain relaxed. If she let them become fists, she might actually clock the blasted narcissist in the jaw. "That was quite witty. Did you come up with that on the spot or do you have a list on hand?"
Her look turned flat as she crossed her arms. "And why would I answer something like that? Unless you're as thickheaded as your pickup line was cringe worthy, even you would not miss the fact that I do not want to be speaking with you."
"Wren," Drake hissed behind her, his hand grasping at her arm painfully.
She ignored him as the Prince's attention flickered to her friend. "So you're name's Wren, then?"
"We are through here," she snapped, yanking her arm out of Drake's hold.
"Awe, don't be that way." An unfamiliar hand wrapped around her wrist. "We were just start-"
Bare flesh colliding with bare flesh rang in her ears before her brain even had time to process the statement. Instinct had driven her so quickly, she hadn't even realized she had been the one to create the sound, finding herself suddenly facing the Prince and already at the end of the follow through of the slap.
It was probably luck that it had been an open handed slap as she watched the Prince vanish into the crowd. Drake was pulling her alone - even Bjorn was pushing her forward through the crowd - as she caught sight of the Prince's fingertips brushing over the red mark on his cheek, eyes wide with surprise before bodies got between them.
"I'm so dead," she muttered.
Her words filled the empty hallway enough for her friends to hear it. Drake was working himself into a full blown panic attack. Bjorn was much calmer but even he looked concerned.
"Why did you have to go and slap him?" Drake choked out. "Are you asking to be killed for treason? Do you like flirting with danger?!"
"Interesting way to flirt," Bjorn commented.
Drake rounded on him, finger brandished like a deadly weapon towards the other. "Not helping!"
Bjorn shrugged as hurried footfall filled what was left behind. All three of them turned finding familiar faces racing towards them.
"We saw the aftermath!" the smallest of the trio called out to them.
Drake stepped forward, arms going out. "Petra."
She wondered if he knew how telling the gesture had been as Petra grabbed at his forearms. "Did she really do it?" Petra's gaze turned to her. "Did you really slap Prince Ne-"
"What does it matter if I did?" she shot back defensively cutting through the name she did not want to hear. Petra barely batted an eye but it wasn't Petra who answered her.
"Why did you?"
She turned her gaze to the twins that had stopped several paces behind Petra and Drake's interesting embrace. Bjorn had made his way over and was standing next to the pair of twins, looking to her with the same inquisitive expression.
"It does not seem like you to slap another," the other twin pointed out.
"Let alone a dignitary like the Prince," the first added.
She let out a sharp sigh. "I don't know. I just did."
"It was because he had grabbed you, wasn't it."
She had forgotten how observant Bjorn was as she met his gaze. His statement - because it hadn't been a question - was proof enough that the dwarf was still a hardened warrior and knew far too much about her than she liked.
She shrugged, feigning apathy as she added verbally, "Probably. That this point, it doesn't really matter, does it?"
"Oh, I don't know about that."
This time when she reacted, she was very aware of every single move she did, as well as the others. She snapped around, the others facing the same direction, as they all stared down the duo standing partway down the hall. She brought her chin up, looking down her nose at the taller of the two. "Venith Scraus," she greeted coldly.
The other smirked. "Wrenyor Thaun."
"Hi Wren!" the smaller of the duo shouted, waving as he bounced up and down slicing through the animosity growing thick in the hallway.
It broke some of the hostility in her and she offered the smaller a soft smile. "Hello Corinth. Enjoying the event?"
The youth nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "V said that Mom and Dad didn't want to come so we're here in their stead. I've never seen so many people before! There were so many pretty dresses."
She frowned, turning her gaze to Venith as the other placed a hand on Corinth's head. "They let you two leave without them?"
"It wasn't as if it was hard to convince them to make sure there was Scraus present at the celebration of the Prince's return." Venith's gaze moved from somewhere over Corinth's head to her. "Though I'm not sure why you and yours were even invited."
"She's lying."
She didn't dare glance back at Petra. Even without looking back she knew what the smaller's expression was, of how Petra would be staring at Venith with large blue eyes that seemed to be unraveling every secret and truth in one's very soul. She could see the instinctual response in Venith even as the other tried to hide the shudder, the step back, the flash of fear.
Corinth took a step forward to counter his sister's step back. Whether it was deliberate or out of the boy's desire to stand up for his sister was beyond her. "V told me that Mom and Dad said we could come in their stead. They even didn't care what I wore as long as I was presentable."
The glee on the boy's face was a sharp contrast to the dark look that swirled over Venith's. Despite the hate and the way they bantered with each other like others would flirt with potential lovers, it was hard for her not to reach out blindly towards the hurting soul before her. While her home life wasn't overly grand, all she had to tolerate was her mother looking down on her. At least she had her stepfather's love and support. There was no love lost in that family. It was a miracle Corinth was as vibrant as he was and that was probably the loudest testament to Venith's character than anything else; that included their animosity towards each other.
She turned her gaze from Corinth to Venith. Was it revolt she was seeing in the other's expression? Towards who?
"Oh, good! I found you!"
And just as before, the entire group's attention pivoted and focused on the newcomer. She scowled at the sight of the red cheeked Prince. He was grinning again. "Are all these friends of yours, Wren?"
"I never gave you my name to speak," she spat.
He gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head. "Awe, come on now. If I can't use your name, what can I call you?"
She turned away, chin rising just that much higher. "Nothing. We are not becoming acquaintances."
"Awe, why not?" he just about whined at the same time Drake hissed, "Wren, stop."
"She doesn't trust you."
Petra again, but this time she was on the other end of Petra's perception. Her chin dropped as she fought the urge to glare at the smaller. It didn't stop her from looking.
Doing so brought him back into her line of sight and she couldn't help but turn fully.
What she saw made her chest tightened.
His brows were furrowed, expression set between concern and bewilderment. Before he could speak up or ask whatever was on his mind, Petra continued. "None of us do."
That statement was heavy in the hall and she wasn't sure if she was surprised by Venith and Corinth's silence or had been expecting it.
"It's because of my father, isn't it."
Another question set as a statement, but this was from someone she did not know, someone she did not understand, and it made her hesitant even as she answered bluntly, "Yes."
His expression hardened. "I'm not like him."
She shrugged. "Whether you are or aren't, I don't trust your father to leave you unaffected."
"And what if I proved it?"
She arched an eyebrow at him. "And how exactly are you going to do that?"
He grinned at her.
Not even a full day later she punched him in the face for another pickup line. He laughed it off even as her friends fretted about him. She didn't apologize but it was the only time she punched him in the face. Before she knew it, the days were vanishing into weeks, weeks into months. She had long since lost track of the days, but it would seem that others had not as the Prince voiced, "I can't believe it's been a year already."
"Since what?" she asked, trying to figure out what day it was and what had happened on the corresponding date as she studied the map on the desk between her splayed hands.
"Since you first showered me in affection."
She blocked the map out of her mind briefly as she threw her date hunting into panicked priority. It clicked but it was a little late as she shot him a glare. "I thought I broke your flirty nature."
He grinned at her. "You can't break perfection."
She groaned. "So help me, Nero, I will slug you in the throat if you keep it up. We've got things we have to be doing, remember?"
"Ok, ok," he quickly ceded, though the grin hadn't completely vanished. At least the smile was far more tolerable.
There was shifting at the edge of the map and she found herself stroking a hand over the head of the large snake coiled there. Omnic, Venith's familiar, had moved from the rug in front of the hearth to being half coiled on the desk acting like a paperweight on the curled edges of the map. Her gaze flickered to Venith, watching as the other seemed to relax just a little bit more, flipping a page before returning her arm around Corinth. The boy was passed out against her side, stitch work still draped across his lap.
Movement behind the couch drew her attention to Bjorn and the twins. Sven was much more verbal in the soft conversation the trio were sharing about the different types of politics between the dwarves and the elves but that didn't mean his brother, Vern, was paying any less attention. Vern's attentiveness reminded her of a certain petite and her gaze wandered over to Drake and Petra. Drake was scrawling something on the parchment he had on the floor, an assortment of books scattered and piled around him. Petra was at his side, listening to Drake mutter while flipping wildly through the book in hand.
"Wren."
She brought her attention back to Prince Nero, back to the map between her hands, and she let out a soft sigh. "What are we doing here, Nero?"
"Looking for the-"
"No," she cut in, already knowing what that response was. "I mean, what are we doing here? There are literal children in our midst and a few of us are barely into adulthood ourselves. We have no right trying to figure this out on our own."
"But who else can we trust?"
She looked at him, searching his expression for something - anything - that would help give her the insight she was looking for. Instead, all she found was his curiosity and his concern. "I don't know," she finally spoke, looking back at the map. "I just don't know."
"You were right."
Fire licked at her calves, the wind howling around her as she stood with Nero on the battlement, the castle in flames around them. Her hand went to push her hair out of the way but the strands were far shorter than what she was used to and they slipped back into her face when her hand kept going. It had been a habitual move, one she wasn't even conscious of as she stared; terror, bewilderment, and the bitter taste of betrayal churned within her as she held Nero's gaze.
He gave her a tight smile, continuing as he opened his arms to her. "I shouldn't have been trusted."
"Nero," she choked, wanting to step towards him but unable to move. "Please."
He shifted back, opening himself up to the view beyond the castle walls, beyond the surrounding city out to the lands beyond. "My father had turned me into a puppet and I had willingly followed his lead. I was happy following the plan he had set before me."
"That's not true!" she shouted.
He gave her another smile, just as tight but this time accompanied by a swirl of emotions in his eyes. His expression was still tightly masked. "Isn't it though? You wanted to defeat the Tyrant King. So," he turned, opening himself up to her completely, hands outstretched to either side as far as he could reach, "defeat the Tyrant King. Take out his last pawn, his last trump card, and make it so that he can never harm another again."
The tears were hot on her cheeks as his words ripped through her. But even in such a dire situation, despite her being able to see the King preparing a final strike towards them, she found herself smiling.
"Hey, Nero."
His expression turned curious as his smile fell away.
"Were you created by magic?"
She watched the confusion overtake his curiosity, fueling it.
"Because I can't help but be amazed by you."
And just like that, the words clicked in his head. "Wha-" he started, but she didn't give him a chance. She crossed to him and pressed their lips together before she was pushing him back. His ankles hit the edge of the battlement and he tipped backwards.
Her smile grew as she felt the heat of the King's final attack bearing down on her as he fell out of harm's way. "Don't ever change, ok?"
"WREN!" he screamed as a flash of scaly wings rescued him. Trusting Petra to get Nero to safety, she turned her back to face the King's attack head on.
She shuddered in disgust, turning a sharp glare on the speaker not caring he was well ranked above her. Straightening herself to her full height, she bit back, "When were you born because I can't tell if I'm talking to a Prince or a newborn."
She could feel Drake's horror-stricken gaze on the back of her head as Bjorn didn't even bothering to mask his booming laughter. The dwarven's blunt nature was often mistaken for rudeness. She was glad it was rubbing off.
Instead of giving the anxiety radiating off of Drake any foundation, the Prince beamed at her, his chin coming up with the force of his apparent enjoyment. She forced her hands to remain relaxed. If she let them become fists, she might actually clock the blasted narcissist in the jaw. "That was quite witty. Did you come up with that on the spot or do you have a list on hand?"
Her look turned flat as she crossed her arms. "And why would I answer something like that? Unless you're as thickheaded as your pickup line was cringe worthy, even you would not miss the fact that I do not want to be speaking with you."
"Wren," Drake hissed behind her, his hand grasping at her arm painfully.
She ignored him as the Prince's attention flickered to her friend. "So you're name's Wren, then?"
"We are through here," she snapped, yanking her arm out of Drake's hold.
"Awe, don't be that way." An unfamiliar hand wrapped around her wrist. "We were just start-"
Bare flesh colliding with bare flesh rang in her ears before her brain even had time to process the statement. Instinct had driven her so quickly, she hadn't even realized she had been the one to create the sound, finding herself suddenly facing the Prince and already at the end of the follow through of the slap.
It was probably luck that it had been an open handed slap as she watched the Prince vanish into the crowd. Drake was pulling her alone - even Bjorn was pushing her forward through the crowd - as she caught sight of the Prince's fingertips brushing over the red mark on his cheek, eyes wide with surprise before bodies got between them.
"I'm so dead," she muttered.
Her words filled the empty hallway enough for her friends to hear it. Drake was working himself into a full blown panic attack. Bjorn was much calmer but even he looked concerned.
"Why did you have to go and slap him?" Drake choked out. "Are you asking to be killed for treason? Do you like flirting with danger?!"
"Interesting way to flirt," Bjorn commented.
Drake rounded on him, finger brandished like a deadly weapon towards the other. "Not helping!"
Bjorn shrugged as hurried footfall filled what was left behind. All three of them turned finding familiar faces racing towards them.
"We saw the aftermath!" the smallest of the trio called out to them.
Drake stepped forward, arms going out. "Petra."
She wondered if he knew how telling the gesture had been as Petra grabbed at his forearms. "Did she really do it?" Petra's gaze turned to her. "Did you really slap Prince Ne-"
"What does it matter if I did?" she shot back defensively cutting through the name she did not want to hear. Petra barely batted an eye but it wasn't Petra who answered her.
"Why did you?"
She turned her gaze to the twins that had stopped several paces behind Petra and Drake's interesting embrace. Bjorn had made his way over and was standing next to the pair of twins, looking to her with the same inquisitive expression.
"It does not seem like you to slap another," the other twin pointed out.
"Let alone a dignitary like the Prince," the first added.
She let out a sharp sigh. "I don't know. I just did."
"It was because he had grabbed you, wasn't it."
She had forgotten how observant Bjorn was as she met his gaze. His statement - because it hadn't been a question - was proof enough that the dwarf was still a hardened warrior and knew far too much about her than she liked.
She shrugged, feigning apathy as she added verbally, "Probably. That this point, it doesn't really matter, does it?"
"Oh, I don't know about that."
This time when she reacted, she was very aware of every single move she did, as well as the others. She snapped around, the others facing the same direction, as they all stared down the duo standing partway down the hall. She brought her chin up, looking down her nose at the taller of the two. "Venith Scraus," she greeted coldly.
The other smirked. "Wrenyor Thaun."
"Hi Wren!" the smaller of the duo shouted, waving as he bounced up and down slicing through the animosity growing thick in the hallway.
It broke some of the hostility in her and she offered the smaller a soft smile. "Hello Corinth. Enjoying the event?"
The youth nodded, grinning from ear to ear. "V said that Mom and Dad didn't want to come so we're here in their stead. I've never seen so many people before! There were so many pretty dresses."
She frowned, turning her gaze to Venith as the other placed a hand on Corinth's head. "They let you two leave without them?"
"It wasn't as if it was hard to convince them to make sure there was Scraus present at the celebration of the Prince's return." Venith's gaze moved from somewhere over Corinth's head to her. "Though I'm not sure why you and yours were even invited."
"She's lying."
She didn't dare glance back at Petra. Even without looking back she knew what the smaller's expression was, of how Petra would be staring at Venith with large blue eyes that seemed to be unraveling every secret and truth in one's very soul. She could see the instinctual response in Venith even as the other tried to hide the shudder, the step back, the flash of fear.
Corinth took a step forward to counter his sister's step back. Whether it was deliberate or out of the boy's desire to stand up for his sister was beyond her. "V told me that Mom and Dad said we could come in their stead. They even didn't care what I wore as long as I was presentable."
The glee on the boy's face was a sharp contrast to the dark look that swirled over Venith's. Despite the hate and the way they bantered with each other like others would flirt with potential lovers, it was hard for her not to reach out blindly towards the hurting soul before her. While her home life wasn't overly grand, all she had to tolerate was her mother looking down on her. At least she had her stepfather's love and support. There was no love lost in that family. It was a miracle Corinth was as vibrant as he was and that was probably the loudest testament to Venith's character than anything else; that included their animosity towards each other.
She turned her gaze from Corinth to Venith. Was it revolt she was seeing in the other's expression? Towards who?
"Oh, good! I found you!"
And just as before, the entire group's attention pivoted and focused on the newcomer. She scowled at the sight of the red cheeked Prince. He was grinning again. "Are all these friends of yours, Wren?"
"I never gave you my name to speak," she spat.
He gave an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his head. "Awe, come on now. If I can't use your name, what can I call you?"
She turned away, chin rising just that much higher. "Nothing. We are not becoming acquaintances."
"Awe, why not?" he just about whined at the same time Drake hissed, "Wren, stop."
"She doesn't trust you."
Petra again, but this time she was on the other end of Petra's perception. Her chin dropped as she fought the urge to glare at the smaller. It didn't stop her from looking.
Doing so brought him back into her line of sight and she couldn't help but turn fully.
What she saw made her chest tightened.
His brows were furrowed, expression set between concern and bewilderment. Before he could speak up or ask whatever was on his mind, Petra continued. "None of us do."
That statement was heavy in the hall and she wasn't sure if she was surprised by Venith and Corinth's silence or had been expecting it.
"It's because of my father, isn't it."
Another question set as a statement, but this was from someone she did not know, someone she did not understand, and it made her hesitant even as she answered bluntly, "Yes."
His expression hardened. "I'm not like him."
She shrugged. "Whether you are or aren't, I don't trust your father to leave you unaffected."
"And what if I proved it?"
She arched an eyebrow at him. "And how exactly are you going to do that?"
He grinned at her.
Not even a full day later she punched him in the face for another pickup line. He laughed it off even as her friends fretted about him. She didn't apologize but it was the only time she punched him in the face. Before she knew it, the days were vanishing into weeks, weeks into months. She had long since lost track of the days, but it would seem that others had not as the Prince voiced, "I can't believe it's been a year already."
"Since what?" she asked, trying to figure out what day it was and what had happened on the corresponding date as she studied the map on the desk between her splayed hands.
"Since you first showered me in affection."
She blocked the map out of her mind briefly as she threw her date hunting into panicked priority. It clicked but it was a little late as she shot him a glare. "I thought I broke your flirty nature."
He grinned at her. "You can't break perfection."
She groaned. "So help me, Nero, I will slug you in the throat if you keep it up. We've got things we have to be doing, remember?"
"Ok, ok," he quickly ceded, though the grin hadn't completely vanished. At least the smile was far more tolerable.
There was shifting at the edge of the map and she found herself stroking a hand over the head of the large snake coiled there. Omnic, Venith's familiar, had moved from the rug in front of the hearth to being half coiled on the desk acting like a paperweight on the curled edges of the map. Her gaze flickered to Venith, watching as the other seemed to relax just a little bit more, flipping a page before returning her arm around Corinth. The boy was passed out against her side, stitch work still draped across his lap.
Movement behind the couch drew her attention to Bjorn and the twins. Sven was much more verbal in the soft conversation the trio were sharing about the different types of politics between the dwarves and the elves but that didn't mean his brother, Vern, was paying any less attention. Vern's attentiveness reminded her of a certain petite and her gaze wandered over to Drake and Petra. Drake was scrawling something on the parchment he had on the floor, an assortment of books scattered and piled around him. Petra was at his side, listening to Drake mutter while flipping wildly through the book in hand.
"Wren."
She brought her attention back to Prince Nero, back to the map between her hands, and she let out a soft sigh. "What are we doing here, Nero?"
"Looking for the-"
"No," she cut in, already knowing what that response was. "I mean, what are we doing here? There are literal children in our midst and a few of us are barely into adulthood ourselves. We have no right trying to figure this out on our own."
"But who else can we trust?"
She looked at him, searching his expression for something - anything - that would help give her the insight she was looking for. Instead, all she found was his curiosity and his concern. "I don't know," she finally spoke, looking back at the map. "I just don't know."
"You were right."
Fire licked at her calves, the wind howling around her as she stood with Nero on the battlement, the castle in flames around them. Her hand went to push her hair out of the way but the strands were far shorter than what she was used to and they slipped back into her face when her hand kept going. It had been a habitual move, one she wasn't even conscious of as she stared; terror, bewilderment, and the bitter taste of betrayal churned within her as she held Nero's gaze.
He gave her a tight smile, continuing as he opened his arms to her. "I shouldn't have been trusted."
"Nero," she choked, wanting to step towards him but unable to move. "Please."
He shifted back, opening himself up to the view beyond the castle walls, beyond the surrounding city out to the lands beyond. "My father had turned me into a puppet and I had willingly followed his lead. I was happy following the plan he had set before me."
"That's not true!" she shouted.
He gave her another smile, just as tight but this time accompanied by a swirl of emotions in his eyes. His expression was still tightly masked. "Isn't it though? You wanted to defeat the Tyrant King. So," he turned, opening himself up to her completely, hands outstretched to either side as far as he could reach, "defeat the Tyrant King. Take out his last pawn, his last trump card, and make it so that he can never harm another again."
The tears were hot on her cheeks as his words ripped through her. But even in such a dire situation, despite her being able to see the King preparing a final strike towards them, she found herself smiling.
"Hey, Nero."
His expression turned curious as his smile fell away.
"Were you created by magic?"
She watched the confusion overtake his curiosity, fueling it.
"Because I can't help but be amazed by you."
And just like that, the words clicked in his head. "Wha-" he started, but she didn't give him a chance. She crossed to him and pressed their lips together before she was pushing him back. His ankles hit the edge of the battlement and he tipped backwards.
Her smile grew as she felt the heat of the King's final attack bearing down on her as he fell out of harm's way. "Don't ever change, ok?"
"WREN!" he screamed as a flash of scaly wings rescued him. Trusting Petra to get Nero to safety, she turned her back to face the King's attack head on.