Prisoner of Azengor (Closed)

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"For the glory of Azengor!" The warcry roar outside the castle walls were the only true warning the Synden royals hidden inside had on the impending attack unleashed by the barbaric neighbors of the North. A tribe of murderous, treacherous thugs, donning clothings made of fur and dragon's teeth & scales, weaponry of the same make. Blood and warfare, victory and spoils. This was their way of life.

They were the creatures of nightmares. The horrors that Princess Gia had been warned of since she was a child. Her people were a race of peace, a line derived from Elven stock. The Azengor tribes were more savages, warriors that broke from the lines of Synden centuries ago and became the brutal beastly kind that saw everything as prey. It was hard to see even the slightest of resemblances between the two races anymore.

Gia heard the screams from the lower levels of the castle, the royal guard defending the fortress as best they could, even with the forces of magic on their side. Her bedroom door was soon thrown open, the young woman starting to scream until the face of her father pushed through the darkness. The elf features were strong with him, but the stocky man also seemed to hold some dwarven aspects to him as well. "Stay low, my child. Low and hidden. I will not let those beasts take my daughter!" Even in a whisper, the King's voice was a deep regal rumble. His battle axe was at his side, his robes flowing behind him as he stormed back into the hall.

She tried to stay low behind her bed, trembling in fear as the sounds of rushed heavy boots climbed the stairs to the royal bedchambers' locations. The clash of metal against metal, the chant of incantation from her father's deep voice.
Then a sound that left her near tears.
The sound of his gargled voice.
The sink of blade to flesh, its withdrawl.

The princess clasped her own fingers against her lips, trying so hard not to scream out from that sound, closing her eyes ever so tightly as the sound of his body collapsing to the floor thundered into her room.
More footsteps.
Heavy and hunting.
Searching.
She could even smell them as they stepped into her room, a stench of death and wild.

Quiet, stay quiet, say nothing, stay quiet.
She was buried beneath her bed now, frightened eyes peering out to the furlined boots that dropped so heavily against the stone floor, watching as they circled and explored.
They moved for the door.
Perhaps. Perhaps she was safe. Perhaps they wouldn't think to look under.

The feet turned, the warrior returning to simply stand at the bed's edge before kicking hard against it, revealing the trembling elven mass beneath. Gia could not move. She could not scream. She could only stare up at him, the horrified girl finding her father's head dangling from the warrior's hand.

The man grinned as he saw the look on her face, reaching down with his free hand to grab onto her hair. "You. Come with me. Now."

Dragged through the castle, back to its lower floors, Gia's stomach was sickened by the destruction left behind so quickly by the invaders. The castle ransacked, so many left dead in their wake. The reminder of her father's own attempt at heroic battle left so cruelly displayed at her side, the princess so close to fainting from the thought of what had happened. The only thing keeping her from doing so was the warrior's incessant pull, refusing to let her falter in her steps as he dragged her beside him.

Everything. All of it. Destroyed. Gone.
Her entire life. Her known world.

And now, to be nothing more than a trinket, left over from battle.
Perhaps her new captor would be merciful and bestow the fate of her father upon her as well.

--------
Princess Gia

With a triumphant snarl, one-eyed Odo Raven’s-Chosen dragged the young princess from her hiding place beneath her father’s bed. “You. Come with me. Now,” the huge man grated, one hand reaching out to firmly grip Gia’s hair, the other just as firmly gripping the hair of her father’s head, which dangled obscenely in Odo’s other massive hand. Resolutely, the blond warrior led her from the room, past the decapitated corpse of the Syndan King in a spreading pool of blood. “Lucky me, little girly,” the Azengorian said with a smirk as he half-dragged the dazed Gia down the stairs, “I’m the one that found you, and found your father. Thane Grimnir will be well-pleased with me. Maybe he’ll even let me have you as a prize, when he’s done with you.” Given that he spoke in the Azengorian dialect, he probably had no idea whether the young elf-princess understood a word of what he said, but the leer that accompanied his words required no translation.

The journey from the Princess’ bedchamber to the great hall seemed to last an eternity, an eternity which Gia could later recall very little of. The small elf and the huge blond man passed a number of bodies, mostly Synden, though a few of the Azengorian invaders had fallen, as well. The Synden dead were mainly members of the royal guard, as the Azengorians appeared to have spared most of the castle’s servants. Without fanfare, the girl and her captor made their way through the castle’s halls and staircases until they reached the intricately carved wooden doors to the great hall. Before the doors stood a pair of Azengorian warriors, both clad in jerkins of ring-mail, metal rings sewn to heavy leather backing. The guard on the left, a bearded blond man who could have been Odo’s twin, waited with his bare arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the door jamb, idly twisting one of the heavy golden animal-headed torcs that encircled his left bicep. A broad-headed spear rested against the wall next to him, and he wore a sheathed longsword on his left hip. The other invader, a leaner, clean-shaven, dark-haired man, was quietly sharpening the edge of a throwing axe, drawing the whetstone along the blade with sure strokes. Both men wore their hair long, in the style of Azengorian warriors - gathered for battle into a thick braid – and each man wore an identical necklace of what appeared to be fearsome teeth from some equally fearsome creature, perhaps a dragon. A third identical necklace encircled Odo’s broad neck.

As Odo approached with his prizes, the blond guard looked up, and a broad grin split his bearded face. “Ho, Odo, I see that you’re the winner today! The King’s head, and this fine little prize, as well! The Thane thought that the pointy-eared coward might try to flee through some bolt-hole, but it doesn’t look like that was a problem.” Hungry eyes slid over the girl’s lithe form, and the guard continued. “Now why don’t you leave this little thing here, and take that head in to the Thane? I’m sure that we could find a way to pass the time while you’re talking to him.

Gia could feel Odo tense as the guard addressed him, and her captor regarded the dark-haired guard, still sharpening his axe, before answering. “Yes, Asbjorn, I am the winner today. I, Odo Raven’s-Chosen, of the Ironborn Clan of Coldwater Harbor, have slain the Syndan King. I have captured this knife-ear, his only heir. I demand entry to the presence of Thane Grimnir, to present him with my trophies and lay them at his feet in honor.”

Asbjorn looked the girl over, his grin fading as he did so. “So, what, this isn’t some scullery slut that you’ve captured?” Leaving his spear leaning against the wall, the guard walked over and roughly grabbed Gia by the chin, turning her face up to his.

“No,” Odo growled, “she’s not. She’s the heir of the knife-ears, and a prize only for the Thane, not for you and Hjalmtyr to amuse yourselves with while I stand here with this,” his voice rose to a shout, “fucking dripping head of his enemy! So open the fucking door!”

The ringing of Odo’s shout died away in the vaulted passageway, to be replaced by the quiet chuckle of the dark-haired guard, Hjalmtyr. “I think he’s got you, Asbjorn. You’ll have to find your own little knife-ear to have your way with, and by the time the Thane lets us off guard duty, all the pretty ones won’t be so pretty anymore.” The warrior smoothly tucked his throwing axe into his belt before reaching out and pulling open the door to the great hall. “Go on in, Odo. He’s waiting.”

The opening of the door revealed a scene straight out of Gia’s nightmares. The great hall of the Royal Castle had been turned into a repository for the Azengoreans’ prizes, both material and elven. Piles of household goods of gold and silver were scattered about the room, and warriors were bringing in more even now. Herded into a corner were most of the castle’s domestic staff, though many of the more attractive young females appeared to be missing with the exception of young Phila, who was bent over one of the trestle tables weeping as she was brutally sodomized by an Azengorean warrior. The beautiful gilded wooden screens that had covered the stone walls lay shattered and broken, many of the graceful silk tapestries were torn, and the throne, the Synden Royal Throne, was occupied by a barbarian.

Rising to his feet as Odo and Gia approached, the throne’s new occupant was every inch an Azengorean war chief. He was dressed in leather, over which was a thigh-length hauberk of chainmail. The mail coat’s short sleeves revealed heavily-muscled arms, and both of the man’s wrists were encircled by thick golden bracelets. His hair was a very dark brown, worn long and loose, and a thick beard covered the lower half of his face. Despite his evident position of authority, he seemed young for his position, no more than twenty-five or thirty years, barely out of his adolescence had he been an elf. But he was very clearly not an elf, and he stood proudly on the dais where the Synden Throne sat, surveying his new conquests. When he spoke, his voice was deep and quiet, conveying with it an air of authority without question. “Odo Raven’s-Chosen, I see that you have been successful in my hunt. The Raven’s Eye sees true, once again. Have someone take that head and mount it on a spike over the gatehouse. Let these treacherous knife-ears see how we repay them for their treatment of us.”

Odo thumped the head of Gia’s father down on a table, and one of the other warriors picked it up to take away for mounting. His hand still in her hair, the warrior led Gia over to the foot of the dais, presenting her to his Thane. “This is the heir, Thane. I present her to you, to dispose of as you will.” With those words, her captor’s now-free hand rose to the neck of her dress, and tore it easily all the way down the front.

He could make out some of his words, the thick growl of an accent reinforcing those tales of the madman animalistic warriors she knew since a child. The princess' hands flailed to clutch the thick fist that claimed her hair as both tether and handle, dragging her struggling form beside him. Her eyes tried desperately to find someting, anything, to take her attention from her father, crying out in horror as she viewed the destruction and deaths lining her home, a sound barely noted by her captor as he returned to a set of others much like himself. Still held tightly like a toy, she whimpered out and grimaced as he hoisted her forward to be viewed, shddering as his companion inspected her. A frghtened yelp left her lips as he grabbed her chin, staring up with widened fearful eyes as he growled something out. She couldn't quite make out his words, but the angry response of the one holding her gave her a basic idea of his request.

His other find was quickly brougt forward, Gia screaming out once more and hastily looking away. "Stop, please!," she begged in sobs. "Stop forcing that sight upon me!"

They spoke of another. Someone who must have been important, their leader? The one he had spoken of earlier. Who he had hoped would grant him- Gia gasped as he tugged her off, whimpering as he led her into the throne room that once was occupied by her father. The regal presentation was gone now, a disarray of barbaric looting and dispicable disregard for anything the chambers once met. The princess was already fighting the tensed feeling in her stomach, that battle even harder as she heard the screams of one of her maids, trembling as the young woman shared her gaze. "I am so sorry," Gia choked out, looking back to find this leader of their attackers disgracing her family throne with his presence. The man stood, surveying the latest acquisitions brought to him and calling for the placement of the king's remains. Gia closed her eyes tightly as it was removed from their sight, finally reopening them slowly as her own fate was brought up.

Pulled before this Thane and her lineage announced, she tried to look up at him, crying out in shock as the seams of her dress' bodice were torn away so easily by her holder's massive digits. Trembling still, she tried to cover herself, looking back up to the man as she tried to breathe.

Keep the will of your father. His strength flows now through your veins.

Gia shook still, fear an obvious captor over her as well as she struggled to find her voice. It finally came through, an attempted force to bring on that strength. "I will not bow to you... Nor be your servant. If you wish anything of me, you shall take it from a dead hand!" She glared up at him, pathways of tears still resting upon her cheeks as she attempted to leave a trail for him as well, spitting upon his armored chest.

The Azengorean leader watched silently as Odo ripped away the front of the elf-princess’s dress, his bright brown eyes taking in her vain attempts to cover her body and her somewhat more successful efforts to master her terror. Gia’s defiant words brought a grin to his face, his understanding of her language apparently sufficient to figure out the gist of her speech, if not the details. “You would defy me, elf-girl? You would defy me after all of this?” His arms swept out to encompass the destruction all around them, the piles of precious metal, the captured and ravished servants, the bloody smear left on the table where her father’s head had been placed. “You are either braver than you look, or much more stupid.”

Grimnir blinked as the girl summoned up the further defiance to spit on his broad chest, evidently surprised by her spirit. “I see that you are frightened, elf, and you do not yet know me, so you do not know just how right you are to be frightened. Usually, the punishment for such behavior is the Blood Eagle. Do you know what the Blood Eagle is? If not, hope that you never give me reason to show you.” He stepped from the dais to stand directly in front of her and tore another strip from her dress to wipe away the spittle from the front of his armor. This close, the Thane smelled of blood and leather, smoke and iron. There were small rents visible in his chainmail, which had evidently seen recent heavy use, and his hair was still damp with the exertion of his conquest of the castle. Another smell, foreign to Gia, was also strong – the smell of Azengorean sweat, a smell far stronger than any Synden would have, even after a day spent working in the fields.

Once his chainmail had been wiped as clean as possible with the cloth the Azengorean regarded Gia thoughtfully for a moment, then without warning slapped her, hard, across the face. “Do not try my patience. You are the last heir of this land, but you are also a prize of war. You will be treated as I wish, regardless of what you want. If I wish something of you, I will have it. I wanted your home, and I have it. I wanted your throne, and I have it. I wanted your treacherous father dead, and I have it. If I want you dead, I will have it. If I want you to row my longship, I will have it. If I want to fuck you bent over my new throne, I will have it.” His voice dropped to a whisper, low and menacing. “Do you understand me?”

Throughout this exchange, Odo Raven’s-Chosen kept his iron grip on Gia’s hair, holding her upright even though her knees may have buckled from the force of the Thane’s slap. Releasing her at last but keeping a close watch on her, the one-eyed man asked, “What would you have me do with her, my Thane?”

The Thane’s response was calm and measured, and all the more chilling for it. “Strip her, search her thoroughly, and shackle her to the throne. She will serve as an example for the others, to keep them quiet and well behaved while we finish our business here. If she resists, bind her wrists and ankles but make sure that you don’t leave her alone with Asbjorn.” Grimnir paused, then added, “And find out if Sigmund has captured the forge intact. This one may need some reminders of her new status.” Slowly, the Azengorean leader worked the heavy golden bracelet off of his left wrist and handed it to Odo. “For your victories today, Odo. Well done.”

___

Thane Grimnir: http://www.flickr.com/photos/8418721@N03/2481740414/

Gia's bit of strength summoned to defy the man before her was quickly fading, returning her to simply a trembling mass in the one-eyed man's hands. The Thane's words on Blood Eagle was not something she recognized, but by the way he used it and the tone taken, she was certain she did not want to experience it. She glanced around quickly, gasping out as he tore away even more of her dress, leaving little to keep the small girl covered from the warriors' eyes around her.

The growled response to her defiance brought both fear and anger to the princess, trying to meet those eyes, only to be more discouraged by the fury he held in them. She had no choice but to try and lower her gaze, grimacing again as his man held so tightly to her and kept he from losing too far a gaze from his leader's eyes. He had taken so much away form her in so short a time, but it seemed as though he was unsure on what to do with her.

The scent of blood and sweat still lingered in the room, a place she had once known so well for the sweet scents of flowers- her father's love of lilac. A curious thing for such a man so well known for his attempt to give a warrior's presence. She closed her eyes as she recalled the words uttered to her so short a time ago, as he fought to keep her safe. A strong effort that seemed so quickly smite. These men, if the word could even be used, knew far more on battle than her own people, her own father. They were not a race of warriors, even to fight amongst themselves was a rarity. Problems were solved easily with a rational debate, or presented before the King.

Gia gasped as he declared what he wanted done with her, trying to pull away from the man holding her as he eagerly began his task. "Let- Let go! Stop! Don't touch me, filthy beast of a man!" Her fight did little to stop him, his giant palm simply grasping onto her dress and letting her own fight do most of the work, fabric torn and disarrayed from her body as she tugged away. He grabbed her hair once again, his newfound prize upon his wrist as he clasped one of far less regality upon her own tiny arm. Using the attached chain to keep her close and pulling her in to his chest, he groped against her breasts, down her bare stomach, his hand gliding against her mound. Gia shrieked out with that, her body lifted from the floor slightly as he continued to search her, the princess kicking her feet furiously as he tried to press fingers into her center. "There is nothing hidden within me, Monster!," She howled, shaking her head.

He tossed her back down, taking the chain and attaching it to her father's former throne. Left before the new keeper of this spot, she lay on the floor for a moment, trying to regain her head after that rattling exploration. Her gaze moved from both the new "king" and the rest of the room, her eyes falling to the now unconscious maid laying upon the table. The other girl was slowly breathing, certainly still alive, but covered in sweat and sheen from- Gia didn't want to think of what else may have coated the girl. "Please. Please let her go," She whispered softly, looking back to the Thane. "Your men have already taken enough from her. Let her at least try to keep something to a life away from this. You have our kingdom. You have our throne. You certainly do not need to take away any hope from her..."

Her voice as wavering, frightened. But she would at least try, try hard, to keep her people safe. As few as them may have remained anymore. Just how much destruction has these monsters caused?

Grimnir sat back on the ornately carved Synden Royal Throne, crossed his booted ankles, and watched Odo efficiently and thoroughly carry out his orders. The elf-princess was stripped of the last remnants of her dress and the search certainly appeared to be full and complete, with Odo enjoying this assignment given how his calloused hands lingered on her breasts and between her thighs. Certainly the girl was pretty, for one of the knife-ears, with long red hair, creamy pale skin, and a tantalizing figure. She could be an entertaining diversion, and the Thane found himself wondering if there might be advantages to having her naked and nearby. “Business first,” Griminir muttered, turning his attention back again to the job at hand – completing the conquest of the Synden castle.

It had only been a few hours since the Azengorean warriors had attacked, slipping swiftly from their longships at the docks just downstream from the castle. They had sailed for days from Azengor, enduring the cold and danger of the open seas and losing a double handful of men. Once they reached the Synden coast, they had sailed up the Meristhelle River, the shallow draft of their vessels allowing them to take the Synden guards by surprise when the dragon-prowed ships materialized out of the early morning mist at the docks. Utilizing that initial surprise to the fullest, the Azengoreans had swarmed into the castle with sword and spear and axe, counting on the shock of their sudden violence to overwhelm the Royal Guard, a largely ceremonial unit given the peaceable nature of the Synden. Grimnir knew that the remnants of the Synden would eventually rally, and therefore a major decision had to be made almost immediately – whether the Azengoreans should attempt to hold their new gains, or slip away in their longships to return and raid again after the castle had recovered. They were raiders by nature, but this was rich, soft land. It was a difficult decision, and one that required additional information.

Odo leaned closer to the Thane at the ruler’s gesture, and waited for orders. “I need a full report on our situation, Odo,” Grimnir told him in a serious tone. “How many wounded, how many dead, and what condition the castle is in. Is it defensible? Is it provisioned? How many defenders escaped? Send someone to check on the longships, and I want the gate closed until further order. Put some of these knife-ears to work gathering up the corpses and taking care of the wounded…” Grimnir paused as he heard Gia begin to speak, her voice wavering.

The Synden accent was still difficult to understand, but Grimnir was starting to be able to piece it together more effectively, though speaking it was still a challenge and the Thane had to keep his sentences short and simple. “Take away her hope?” He glanced at the unconscious serving girl, slumped over the table where his warrior had left her after having his way with her, noted her small breasts rising and falling with her shallow breathing, and shrugged his heavy shoulders underneath the mail hauberk. “She is still alive, girl. She has been hard used, but she is not dead. She can hope that things might still get better for her. Maybe they will. But you want me to let her go? Why? We have taken this castle. We have taken these things,” he waved one arm to encompass the various plunder scattered around the great hall. “We have captured slaves that can work in our fields and homes. Why would I let that one go? She is young and still pretty, despite Aerik’s best efforts, and will bring me a good price if I sell her.” A grin quirked the corner of his mouth, and he looked the princess up and down before adding, “You’d bring a good price, too, for all that you’d have to learn to listen.”

His accent was not as difficult as his companions, but added an extra richness- no, destruction, to her family tongue that was hard to understand. Gia bitterly pulled back as far as the tether to his newfound seat would allow, shaking her head. "That is not hope. That is fear. Fear is not a way to live! You have already claimed her home, you have claimed her life as such. There could still be hope found here."

Gia froze as he brought up the idea of being sold. "You will make her into a slave?" The added mention in reference to her brought the Princess to her feet, unsteady but without shaking. "You will take no price for me, Monster!," She deemed loudly, pointing a finger at him warningly. "My people may be of peaceful ways, but we are not without defense!"

To prove this point, the petite elven girl directed her attention to one of the torches left by the Thane's men. A tiny chanting of words left her lips, her fingers dancing slowly in the air from the raised hand. Words incomprehensible, but not without effect. The flames grew a bit more, a touch brighter, following the sudden direction of her hand as she casted the fingers in his direction. She stopped it abruptly, spreading her fingers back apart and letting her hand fall.

"There is a thing known as mercy, Great THANE." She spoke his title with heavy disdain, staring at him.

The ability to keep without a quiver to her form was beginning to falter. Her knees gave out then, letting the girl fall back to the floor, but her gaze remained upon him. "You have taken away any weapons I may have kept in physical form, but you cannot take this away from me."

Bravery was fleeting. It came in small spurts, summoned up from inside her during those moments of fear and anger. To see one of her people suffer, to hear of his plans for them both, it called up that strength inside. Would he continue to test it? Or did he plan to see how well he could teach her to listen, as he had put it?

“Fear is the way that most people live, girl,” Grimnir responded. “They fear the wrath of the gods. They fear drought, or flood, or storm, or snows. They fear that they will be noticed by warriors, kings, or priests. They fear that they will die young and their families will starve. They fear that they will be duped by cheating knife-ears,” again he shrugged, “or sold into slavery by horribly hairy raiders. Fear is life, for those not living in palaces.”

Both of the Thane’s eyebrows rose as Gia got to her feet, and lowered into a scowl as she shouted her defiance. But nothing prepared Gia for the reaction to her small spell with the torch flame. The moment she began her incantation, the room exploded to life. Odo Raven’s-Chosen, who had been near the doors, stopped dead in his tracks and turned towards the dais, each tooth of his dragon-tooth necklace glowing with a cold, white light. Asbjorn and Hjalmtyr, the door guards, tore open the great carved doors to the hall, weapons in hand, their necklaces likewise glowing in the smoky torchlight. Several other warriors, including Aerik, the serving girl’s tormentor, also scrambled to their feet and readied their weapons, looks of both hatred and a deep, abiding fear on their faces.

Grimnir stood his ground on the dais, his teeth clenched tightly together, a slash of white in the darkness of his beard. Reaching beneath his mail hauberk and undertunic, the Thane drew out a leather cord that had apparently hung around his neck. Suspended from the cord was a dragon’s tooth nearly twice the size of any mounted in the necklaces worn by his men. It was clearly a fang, or part of one, four inches long, curved, and wickedly pointed. Cold, white light poured from it as he held the cord in his fist and stared at it in near-disbelief, the light noticeably brightening the great hall and throwing the scene into an odd relief.

The cry started on the far side of the room, near the doors. “Fae-wicce!” “Fae-wicce!” Asbjorn and Hjalmtyr started towards the throne, determination and murderous intent writ large in every movement. Odo, too, joined them, the three of them advancing across the expanse of open floor in a wedge, the throne and its shackled elf their obvious goal, until Grimnir stopped them with an upraised hand and gestured for them to remain where they were.

Thane Grimnir watched without speaking as Gia sank back to her knees, her energy temporarily spent. Then, taking hold of her chain, the muscular invader drew her to him by main force, his pressure on the chain steady but not sharp. When the elf-girl reached his side, he wrapped one large hand around the soft skin of her throat and bent down to whisper in her ear. “Girl,” he said quietly, “you should know that there are very few things that Azengoreans fear. Of course, we fear the things that all men fear – death, sickness, hunger, cold. But more than anything, Azengoreans fear the fae-wicce, elven witch-magic.” His eyes burned into hers, his expression unlike anything she had seen on his face before. If he was truly afraid he did a good job of concealing it, but his face betrayed a burning intensity. “We are raised from the cradle to fear fae-wicce. To speak of it is to invite bad luck on yourself and your clan. For a babe to display any taint of it brings a swift death. To even consort with those who possess witch-magic is grounds for exile at best, and the Blood Eagle at worst. You have no idea how lucky you are that my men are more loyal to me than they are to superstition, or you would already be dead. If you wish to survive more than just the next few moments, if you wish to have any of your ‘hope’, you must swear to me right now that you will not do any more of your witch-magic anywhere where my men can see you. Otherwise, very simply, you will die. Horribly.”

Had she effected them? Gia looked to the doors in confusion as the men burst in with a fury, seeing the drawn weaponry and the unknown chant leaving their lips. No, this was not what she had anticipated- A sharp gasp left her, suddenly fearing for her life, fearing she had made far more than just a simple demonstration of what her abilities could muster.

This was the fear he had spoken of, the fear that begged to continue living.

The teeth they wore were presenting themselves strangely, something Gia didn't understand either, but it was obviously adding to the anger and shouts they were giving. The strings attached were brought to the forefront, letting those glimmering fangs hang freely and to lead to the offending Synden royal. A sudden shriek left her as they drew closer, trying to hide behind the throne.

The Thane stopped them.
Merely a gesture, a look.
A warning upon them without a word.

He grabbed for her chain, using it to haul her over to him. A quick shriek left her again, trying to grasp at the carpeting beneath her, trying to stop her approach. She was shaking still, her fear widespread and openly displayed now. Her breath caught in her throat as he reached down for her neck, gasping sharply for breath and feeling her jaw quivering against his palm. Her eyes were wide, terrified as he leaned down to her.

Why they came. Why they looked at her that way.
She brought fear upon them.
But to end fear for them, was to simply kill the source.

Gia studied his eyes as he stared down upon her, firm eyes demanding attention, for her to listen and obey. Not because it was his command, but to keep herself alive.

She choked lightly, reaching up to grasp both her small hands against his thick wrist. "Then you know fear as well," She whispered out softly, only to nod as she closed her eyes. That Blood Eagle again. She was still unsure of its meaning, but it was certainly not at all pleasant to hear.

"I will contain it," She promised in a low breath, both frightened and confused by his gaze. Was he threatening her, or warning her? The scent of her captor, his comrades, was overpowering from here. His breath was heavy so close to her face, heated and smelling of wine- her father's wine. So far gone was that welcoming smell of the throne room. Instead, it left her stomach ill and fear in her chest.

"I swear. I swear to you, I will not do such a thing again." She hesitantly glanced around his fingers, to see the men still staring at her with absolute fury in their eyes. Her fear still ran deep at the sight, quickly looking back to him. "I swear."

Grimnir took a deep breath of relief as the shackled elf-witch gave her oath, hoping that her word counted for something. Among the Azengoreans, “as faithless as an elf” was an epithet of long standing. Nevertheless, questionable as the honor of her race might be, it was the best that he could have hoped for under the circumstances, and it might prove sufficient to keep the elf-girl alive in the immediate future. His face still very close to hers, his breath hot on her ear, his hand still wrapped around her throat, the Thane imparted more whispered instructions. “I am pleased to hear it. I did not look forward to killing you. Now, you must demonstrate your good faith, and show my crew that you can hold to your word. Kneel here, at my right side,” he indicated with another compact gesture. “I need you to swear out loud, so that the men can hear you, that you will obey my commands and do no more of your witchcraft.”

Odo, Hjalmtyr, and Asbjorn stood halfway between the doors to the hall and the dais, their weapons still clutched in their hands, intently watching the exchange between the thane and the naked girl. Their expressions no longer held the promise of immediate death, but they still looked frightened and dangerous, if willing to wait and see what their thane was able to do with the witch. The light emanating from their necklaces was fading with each passing moment, the cold glare leaving the great hall once again lit only by torchlight. The other Azengoreans also stood stock-still, their eyes riveted to the scene next to the throne of Synden, swords and spears held ready.

A firm hand still gripped Gia’s throat, and the Thane added quietly, “Fear is strong, girl. They fear you now, but that is not a good thing for you. Fear of this sort means a knife in the dark, a sword thrust from behind, or a noose and a tree. You must stay close to me, because right now, their respect for my command is the only thing keeping them from tearing you apart. You must appear completely obedient, completely under my control. If they think that you are preparing one of your spells, I cannot save you. I cannot, and will not, fight them all to save you, but if you give them no reason to think you are a threat, they will soon find enough other business to keep their minds off of killing you.”

The big man took another deep breath before releasing the elf’s throat from his hand and sitting back in the throne, his dark eyes intense as he watched to see how she would react – would the real fear of death be enough to overcome her defiance, or would she choose to fight, and to die? It stuck him that, raised as she was in a castle as the heir of a king, this might be the first time in her life that she had actually had to fear for her life. These soft Synden with their tilled fields and their king and their fancy golden dishes knew nothing of the lives of Azengoreans, for all that they had been uneasy neighbors for generations. Life was hard in the North and death was a frequent visitor, be it from cold, from starvation, from drowning after falling off a longship out to sea, from the punishments of the nobility, or from the violence that was the norm in Azengor. No one came of age in Coldwater Harbor or Gulltown or Iron Bay without feeling the fear of real, painful death. It made them hard, though to the elves, it just made them barbarians. The elves were different. It was time to see if the girl could learn to listen, not just to him, but to her own fear. He found himself hoping that she would choose to submit.

Gia tried to swallow down, her eyes still locked upon the giant of a man before her, trying to read his face. He still seemed doubtful of her words, but he leaned in to speak with her once again. Her fingers dug into his arm as he whispered to her, those trembling hands having such trouble recalling the strength she had taken so many moments ago.

He wanted her to bow. To cower, kneel at his feet. Her eyes closed with the thought, a momentary pass of disgust and hatred. As her eyes reopened, she saw his men still standing there, curiously watching with doubts of their own. What he said was true. They seemed to only be keeping distance due to who was grasping so tightly to her now. A different form of fear, mixed with respect. These monsters knew the meaning of such a word?

The princess' safety was to stay within his reach. She shuddered at that, giving another slow nod. Appear obedient. Appear.

She could act a part.
But she also hoped he realized. This was not a complete falling to his whim. She merely did not wish to die at the hands of these beasts.

Her knees found the floor once more as he released her throat, gasping sharply for breath and rubbing her neck. Her gaze hesitantly moved to those men, then back to him. Knives and spears, torches and swords. Or a man who promised her safety, simply for staying quiet.

She was outspoken, but certainly not a fool.

Gia crawled to his side, lowering her head and refusing to look back up. "I will. Obey. Great Thane." Her voice was soft, still frightened. The fear of his men, his words, still rang true in her ears, the gleam of their weaponry showing to even the lowered gaze she kept. "My kingdom is yours. I. Am yours. Spare my life, I beg of you."

She knew nothing of war, of fighting. The aftermath of such a thing as this. The concept of her former life gone from her was simply impossible to fathom. Even after the sight she had seen, the loss of her father, she expected at any moment. Any second. For him to storm into this room, demand the barbarians to vacate his chambers. How could any of the things around her be true?

The sounds of outside the castle began to filter in, more calls and commands from lower officers among his invading forces. Words of death, destruction, shouts about burning this and that. Buildings, bodies. Things foreign to them. A shout to destroy the statue bearing her father's image that stood at the main gates. Gia looked up in horror at that, turning to her captor with pleading eyes. The stone atop the scepter in the statue's hand-

"Thane. I beg of you to hear me. I know my words may be questionable to you, but to spare more lives of those who remain of my people. Please listen. That statue. They cannot destroy it. Not for my father's memory, but because of the artifact that stands within it. To attack it will only cause great damage. Your men will not react well to it's defense. Do not let them destroy that statue! The stone will harm your men!" She stared up at him, her eyes pleading as she clung to the throne's side. She doubted he would even believe her, but she had to at least try to warn him. If those who remained were accused of causing the stone's destruction, the punishments he had spoke of would be given unfairly. "For the sake of both our people, please. Please do not let them touch that statue."

The elf’s vow of obedience seemed to settle the Azengorean warriors, whose culture put great store in spoken oaths. Asbjorn and Hjalmtyr, their necklaces now seemingly normal again, returned to their posts outside the great doors, though the doors themselves were left open, the better for the guards to keep an eye on goings-on inside the hall. Odo Raven’s-Chosen, too, continued on his errand, striding out of the great hall with nary a backward glance. On the throne, Grimnir nodded his satisfaction at the oath and turned his attention to receiving reports from his raiders, the shackled elf at least temporarily forgotten.

Azengorean fighters informed the thane that the castle was captured largely intact, since no siege weapons had to be used in its capture. The seat of Synden royalty had fallen to no more than fifty of the raiders, ten of who had died in the conquest of the castle. Several more were wounded, and the thane rubbed his bearded chin as he pondered what this might mean for his near-term and long-term plans. He was about to turn his attention back to the nude girl kneeling next to his chair when Odo Raven’s-Chosen returned to set an issue before him.

“Thane,” Odo rumbled by way of beginning, “there’s a big statue outside by the front gate of the castle.” The huge Azengorean jerked his thumb in the direction of the castle’s gatehouse. “The lads don’t like it, say it looks like the old king. They want to tear it down and break it up, maybe throw the pieces over the wall at the knife-ears when they come back.”

Grimnir shrugged, not particularly caring what was done with one particular stone statue, until he noticed the girl trying to get his attention. Turning, with a slightly exasperated look on his face, he was about to reminder her of her new vow of obedience when her words stopped him. Dark eyes narrowed as he listened to her, watching her body language as she pleaded to save the statue, and warned of dire consequences should anything happen to it.

The dark war leader pondered her words for a moment or two after she finished speaking, then turned to Odo. “Hurry back to the gatehouse, and tell whoever is there that no one is to touch that statue, under pain of death, until I say otherwise. There are plenty of other things to break around here, let’s not risk that one just yet. In fact, set a guard on it to make sure that no one damages it.” That done, he sat back on the throne and pulled the chain attached to Gia’s wrist until the girl was kneeling directly in front of him, at which point he leaned forward with both forearms on his knees and looked directly at his captive’s face.

“Now, girl, we are going to take a walk out to see this statue. I will hold your chain, and while we walk, you will explain to me what the danger is, and you will think of some way to prove that it really exists. If you have been lying to me, what happened to that serving girl will seem like a stroll in the park compared to what will happen to you. I am willing to trust you enough to at least delay my men from destroying that statue, but there had better be a reason. If you can prove to me that you are telling the truth, I will release two of your people.” With that, he rose from the throne, unwrapped her chain from around it, and set off for the great hall door, the end of her chain firmly grasped in his left hand.

A breath of relief left her as he seemed to take her words into consideration, calling back his men from doing anything to the structure. The concerns weren't exactly toward the safety of his men, in her mind, but to the aftermath of them being injured. Her people- or herself- being blamed for the stone's reaction, more destruction and harm being brought about from those who did not understand.

The princess started to settle back just a touch, resting against her heels at the throne's side as she closed her eyes. It was but a brief moment's rest, the Thane's thick hand grabbing onto the lead attached to her wrist and yanking her up before him. A soft cry left her, barely catching herself as she stumbled forward, coming to set before his feet as he peered down at her. There was still doubt lingering in those eyes, though her own tried so desperately to relay that she was telling him the truth. The fact he at least considered her word enough to bring his men to a halt had to be some sort of good will between them.

She simply nodded as he told her what he expected, watching him skittishly as he took her chain from the throne and used it to keep her near. She stayed barely a step behind him, hesitantly glancing around the castle as they walked. One arm still tried to hide her nude form as they moved through the halls and past his men, shame and embarrassment tinting her skin with a pink hue. A royal, walking in such a manner. But to them, she was merely another found bauble, wasn't she? Attempting to keep at least some of her former pride, she kept her arm across her body, trailing after him as they made their way to the main gate. She tried to avoid seeing the bodies strewn about the courtyard, the blood left in so many places, the fires burning around them. He brought her out here for a reason.

"The stone in the scepter my father's statue holds. It is a moon stone. My people gain their magic from it. But to damage the stone. It would cause an eruption of the power it contains. A defense, of sorts. It was thought to keep those among us from being greedy, from trying to take more than we could handle. A piece was pulled from it years ago, before I was even born. I had an uncle. Had, being a key word, Lord Thane." She glanced at him with that, frowning slightly. "But he knew the tainting of greed. Father told me of how he attempted to steal the stone. That single piece. It resisted him. It destroyed him. Nothing remained, simply charr marks and ash upon the ground. It will not allow those with ill will to touch it."

He wanted proof of the destruction it could cause.
How to do this without risking a life?

"Thane, may I borrow one of your men's bows?" She looked at him again. "I have given you my word on no further attempts at harm upon you or your men. Please take me at this oath. I wish to prevent, and only such. If you do not trust me. Perhaps you should do it." She pointed up, to the chunk missing out of the stone's form. "Aim for there. Try to chip more from it's shape. That alone should cause a reaction in the stone." The elven girl paused, glancing at him again. "Unless you do not trust me, and feel this to be an attempt for you to harm yourself." She cocked a brow, spreading her hands, allowing the bare pale skin she had fought so hard to cover to be exposed. "Then I shall take this upon myself, is such is the case. There is hatred in my heart at this moment, Thane. And I am certain you know why. If the stone wishes to harm me for it, then it will."

The sight of the elf-girl kneeling in front of him and attentively listening to his words was quite satisfying, Grimnir admitted to himself as they walked through the halls of the Synden castle. So was watching her walk, slightly behind him, one arm crossed over her body in an ultimately futile attempt to conceal her nakedness. The pink flush that the experience brought to her pale skin was enticing in and of itself, and Grimnir was also impressed that she could keep enough of her wits about her despite her predicament to begin to explain what was happening with the statue and the stone orb.

“A moon stone? Perhaps it does not surprise you that I have never heard of such a thing. Your people must guard them jealously. Is it like a dammed lake, where the power rises in it with every rain and can be drawn off? Or does it have some power of its own that can be tapped, like an ore vein, that will eventually run out?”

At her comment of “Lord Thane” the big man laughed, and shook his dark-maned head. “No, girl, not ‘Lord Thane’. ‘Thane’ already means ‘lord’, though the translation is not exact. My people do not have titles that pass from father to son, or daughter. We have a king, but he is chosen at a meeting of representatives of all the free men of our land. When he dies, another meeting is held, and another king chosen. Thanes are leaders who have risen to power through their own strengths and through the agreement of others to be led by them. I lead this band of warriors because I have proven myself able to lead them against our enemies, to provide them with gold and silver and slaves, and to bring them home safely again. Because of that, they wish to be led by me, not because my father’s ass grew fat on some uncomfortable chair.”

“But,” he asked, brows furrowing, “how does the stone know who to resist? How does it know a rightful owner from a thief? And has your castle never been taken, in the entire history of your people? Did the stone resist the new owner, or did it somehow accept that the conquest had been made?” This explanation was raising more questions that it answered. Probably soon she’d just say, “It’s fae magic, you hairy barbarian,” and expect that to be an end to it. The conversation seemed to be heading in that direction, anyway.

Stopping in the courtyard, the thane brought his captive to a halt within sight of the statue by the simple expedient of putting out one thickly muscled arm and expecting her to stop before she walked into it. Grimnir was pleased to see that Odo had reached the courtyard in time, as an Azengorean stood alertly near the statue, one hand resting on the pommel of his sword, while several other warriors waited nearby to see what would happen.

Grimnir listened carefully to her description of how to prove the stone’s danger, and nodded slowly, his eyes widening with surprise and appreciation as she revealed her body as a sign of her good faith. This could prove interesting, indeed. “So, if we pretend to attack the stone, it will react. Very well.” The big man gestured to one of the nearby warriors, who handed him a short, recurved bow tipped with horn and a quiver full of goose-feathered arrows. A quick flick of the string proved that it had remained taut, and Grimnir turned to hand the bow to his captive. “Hatred in your heart?” The thane smiled wryly. “Yes, I imagine you do have plenty of that. Now, though, that hatred can provide you with a way to save two of your people, if you can focus it. Of course, you could shoot me, instead, but what would that gain you, other than some satisfaction before you died? Normally, it is strictly forbidden for slaves or captives to handle weapons but in this case, I think I’ll make an exception.”

Talking made it easier to forget her current state. Gia nodded softly at his query on the stone, trying to figure out the best way to explain it. "It is a bit of both. The full moon gives the stone its power, which we in turn can take from. It will, in time, lose its strength, and simply disintegrate on its own. Decay is already taking it's toll upon it, but we have been wise to be sparing. That is, until recent events." She glanced at him with that, her gaze solemn. "There appears to be damage upon it from the day's events. Not from your people, but from the efforts of mine."

His sudden laugh surprised her, spooked her. The explanation of his own, why her words brought him to laughter. The word she thought to be his name was merely his title. His added mentioning of thrones gained, however, caused her eyes to narrow. "They can also be passed down with the loss of life. I am not the princess of Synden any longer, thanks to your men. Odo, was it?" She nodded, looking towards the one-eyed man. "He has bestowed me with a new title. I am now Ruler of this land. Destroyed and barren as you have left it."

The way he seemed to set on knowing the stone's intricacies was curious. Why did he take such an active interest in it? Was he trying to find a way to use it for himself? "It knows nothing of those around it. Simply of its own safety. A wild boar takes no interest in allies. But it does note of its attackers. They are harvested with care. There are many of them, you may have even passed them in your travels and never taken heed. A new statue created for each of our kings, reformed when the stone leaves us. The closer we are to it, the stronger our magic. Hence the size, and where it is kept."


Perhaps she had said too much. Her worries on his interests in the stone grew even more, suddenly questioning if he would even accept her offer of taking the stone's possible wrath for herself. To say her powers grew stronger this close to it... But she had also given her word to obey. This was also the reason for her compliance in explaining the stones.

His offer of freedom for two of her people for a successful demonstration received a nod in return, taking the bow from his hand and keeping the warning in mind.

"One shall be Phila."

It was all she said before taking up an arrow, aiming over the feather and head to line up with the slightly offcentered point at the stone's edge. Letting it fly, she lowered the bow, watching as the flint head collided with the white glistening stone.

Nothing.
She continued to watch. The arrow had chipped at the stone's surface, letting the flaking fall to the ground as the arrow redirected, coming to fall into the earth.

A man suddenly burst out laughing, only to be cut off as Gia pointed with the bow to what was happening. The arrow burst into unnatural flames, a brilliant flash of white- and then, was gone. Ashes. A smoldering mark left upon the grass.

"Keep your men clear, Great Thane."
She dropped the bow, looking over at him.

Grimnir nodded his understanding at the elf’s description of the stone’s new damage. “When we charged the castle, Hrolf was in front of me. There was a flash of light, a strange smell, and Hrolf was gone. No blood, no smoke, no screams…no Hrolf. It was as if he just ceased to be from one moment to the next. Perhaps that is what damaged your stone.”

As she explained her new position, the war chief grinned. “So, your majesty, perhaps I should beg your pardon for manhandling you like this, and making you parade about naked while chained to my hand? Hmm. No, I think I prefer you this way than all high and mighty on your fae-throne.”

So, the girl demanded the freedom of her serving girl as part of her price, which came as no surprise to Grimnir. She obviously had an attachment to the wench, though he thought that perhaps she might choose a couple of the older servants who might not do as well in captivity. Well, maybe she thought that she was sparing the poor girl a few more hard fucks over the table. Time would tell whether her own people welcomed her back, now that the barbarians had their way with her. From his experience, elves could be very high-and-mighty when it came to almost any topic.

Dark eyes watched in silence as the nude elf drew the bow almost to her ear. “Damn me,” he thought, “but she’s got a good arm on her. That bow has to have forty pounds of pull if it has an ounce, but she drew it like nothing.” He also appreciated what the motion did to the lithe young woman’s muscles. “Nothing wrong with that, either.” A scowl crept over his features as the arrow fell harmlessly to the ground, the feeling that he’d been mislead evident on his features, but the flash of light as the arrow combusted down to ash wiped the sour look from the thane’s features and replaced it with one of mingled joy and appreciation.

“Well, you’ve done it, girl! A capital shot, and you’ve saved both my people and yours today. Well done!” He pulled her to him by the chain, held her against his broad, mailed chest, and crushed his lips to hers in a hard, insistent kiss. Breaking it, he grinned again. “So, pick your two to go free. In fact, I’ll throw in a third. Your serving girl and who else, your majesty?” His deep voice carried a hint of mocking, but also an overtone of real appreciation for the fact that she’d chosen to save his men, rather than let them be flashed down to dust by the moonstone’s power. Perhaps she’d acted only to spare her own people the inevitable recriminations had such a thing come to pass, but the fact was that she’d spoken out, begged his attention, and delivered in the clutch. Oh, she was going to be a rare prize, indeed.

Several of the thane’s men who had been watching muttered among themselves, but none seemed inclined to question the good fortune that had resulted in their captive saving their lives, rather than simply sitting by while they charred themselves to ash in an orgy of destruction.

The elven princess took pride in her clear shot, noticing the way the warriors watched her and muttered. Even the Thane's surprise was quite evident, made even more prominent as he reeled her in by her thin chain and grabbed her to his chest. She weezed for breath at first, his thick arms and hard chest forcing the air from her small lungs. More was spent from them as he suddenly kissed her, a rough forcing of his mouth against hers through the scratching texture of his beard. She tried to shriek out, pinned against him as his facial hair rubbed against her soft skin, leaving it a touch reddened and the lingering feel of it's press as he pulled away.

She glared up at him, trying to pull away, but did find herself appreciating that he was true to his word on releasing some of her people. The addition of Phila being a third surprised her, quickly glancing over to the few faces she knew. "Advisor Heln. And Lady Thia." The two who had raised her while her father dealt with matters of the kingdom. "Please, Thane. They have seen far too many years to be slaves, and done so much for me. Allow me to spare them..."

The two elders looked shocked at this, Thia with tears in her eyes and Heln shaking his head. "I will not leave you to these beasts, young one!," he called out firmly, trying to push past the guarding men blocking his way. "Your father will not stand for such an act!"

"You will heed the decision of your queen, Lord Heln!," she shot back quickly, a sorrowful look quickly taking her features as she shook her head. "My father is dead. Our captors have made certain of this. He watches us now, in many ways." Her stomach knotted again at the thought. "My title is nothing anymore. I have no control, no rule. I ask, beg you, to hear me as one who cares for you. Please. Do not fight me on this."

She slowly looked back to the Thane who still held her, trying to read those deep eyes watching her. "They. They will not be harmed?" She asked the question slowly, hesitantly, doubtfully. She had kept her word to him thus far, worries over the safety of her people outweighing theconcerns she held for herself. "I trust you to keep our good faith, Thane. You may take as you wish, of my land, myself, our crops and posessions. But I ask you to keep your word on promises made to me. Is not an Azengorian oath as meaningful as a Synden's pledge?" She continued to watch him, trying to push without going too far. "Would a warrior go back on his word?"

So she went with the aged counselors and her serving wench, after all. Not terribly surprising to Grimnir, particularly once he saw how truly aged the one called Heln was, with skin like thin parchment stretched too tightly over a wooden frame. For all of his age, his voice was still strong and hale, and he tried to push past the guards where many elves significantly his junior meekly accepted their fate. Perhaps he wouldn’t be a bad one to be rid of, after all. The serving girl was a loss, without question, but a very acceptable one – no one slave was worth the lives of warriors, and certainly some would have died or been seriously injured by that moonstone.

A frown creased the thane’s brows at the mention of a Synden’s pledge, but for the moment, he held his tongue on that particular front. “Remember, Grimnir,” he thought, “you’re at least temporarily grateful to her. There will be many opportunities to discuss the lies of the Synden.”

“You have nothing to worry about as far as these three are concerned, girl,” Grimnir told her. “I have said they may go, and they may go freely and without being troubled. My crews will not harm them.” His right arm kept her firmly against his mailed chest, though without crushing force, and his mouth quirked into a wry grin. “Oh, I may, may I? How generous of you to grant me such access to your lands, crops, and possessions, since we have already taken them. Oh, and yourself, of course.”

“Odo,” the thane called, “take these two ancients and Aerik’s serving girl to the front gates. So long as they cooperate, do them no harm and allow no harm to come to them while they are in your charge. When you get to the front gate, they may go, and no man is to follow or bother them. If there are problems, bring the offender to me personally. Oh, and give Aerik an extra quarter-share of gold as payment for the girl.”

The big, one-eyed man nodded, taking each of the elderly servants gently but firmly by the arm. “Yes, my Thane. Come along, you two. Let’s go get that girl and we’ll see you out the door as the Thane ordered.” In short order he returned with Hjalmtyr in tow, the now semi-conscious serving girl slung unceremoniously over the axe-man’s shoulder. Odo paused by the gatehouse long enough to pick her up, lean her against the wall, and throw most of a bucket of water into her face, brining her spitting and coughing to full consciousness.

As the elves prepared to leave the gatehouse, Grimnir called out to them, “You are set free because your queen, now my property, treated with me fairly. Let that be a lesson to all of you.”

That business concluded, the castle’s new master turned his attention to the elf, pushing her away to an arm’s length the better to look up and down her body, his hands on her shoulders to hold her in place. “Now, pretty thing, you will tell me where you learned to shoot like that, and how you drew that bow. You do not look strong enough to draw it, for all that it’s just a short bow and not one of the Cymry’s longbows, and you hit the target on the first try with unfamiliar arrows.”

Looking to the new ruler of her kingdom, Gia studied his face as he watched the events taking place around him, frowning again at the way he spoke to her. A slight bitterness was building in her, the way he took her words to be a joke and worthy of his ridicule. She managed to swallow it down, trying to keep her wits about her as best she could. To snap at the barbaric leader was only going to make things worse.

There had to have been at least some trust developing from the man. She needed to return that, even if it was in the slightest of levels. He was, after all, allowing her to choose a select few to be free of this.

Gia watched with concern as her chosen three were allowed to make their way from the castle's gate, frowning slightly at the method used to rouse her former maid. At least she was allowed to go, without being part of the Thane's challenge. That accounted for something.

She closed her eyes and lowered her head as he called to the trio, reminding them on how they had gained their freedom. The newly appointed queen, taken prisoner, forced to obey this man and remain nude in his presence. Gia didn't even need to raise her head to feel the disdain in Heln's gaze.

As the three were guided out, the gates brought abruptly closed behind them, the Thane's attention returned to her as he pushed her out before him and seemed to study her.

He did not believe what she was capable of.

"As I have told you, Thane... The stone." She pointed delicately over her shoulder to the newly chipped moonstone. "You have brought me before it. If the need to use that bow had risen outside these gates, I would not have been able to manage such a thing. I have been taught in our own archery, but it was used mainly for sport. For hunting. Not for battle. I was able to handle one of yours, because of the stone's influence. My strength increases here. My ability with skills I already know. If I were to attempt my magics here, they would be far greater than that of the throne room's presentation." She looked at him quickly with that, shaking her head. "I am not a fool, Thane. I know better than to attempt it. As strong as I feel it may become at this spot, I am certain your men will take strong action against it."

The elf was shaking still, frightened and worried on what was taking place around her. Her people were herded off to one side of the courtyard, his own men pillaging through what remained of useable goods inside the barns and stalls around the area. "Our horses will not be able to support the weight of your men," She noted softly as she spotted a few wandering toward the stables. "Perhaps here, they might. But the moment they were taken from the stone's influence..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Outside these gates, they can bear the weight of only someone my stature." She paused, giving him another look. "Unless, that is, your men are planning to seize them as food? A feast of raw horse flesh? That is what Azengoreans feed upon, is it not?"

“So, your own power is increased in front of this stone? Your trick with the torch, before…you could, what, set me on fire now?” His brows drew down into a scowl, much of his previous amusement gone. “No, you are not a fool, though I think you are young and rash. But why do you think I took the chance to bring you out here? If you are known as defeated here, in front of your people’s greatest power, then news of our prowess in war will spread. We will face less opposition, less resistance, and lose fewer men. We do not spawn endlessly from pools of demon’s blood, contrary to what your father and uncle probably told you.”

The thane glanced over at a couple of men who were, indeed, heading towards the stables. “You, there. Search that stable thoroughly, and I mean thoroughly, but do not try to ride the horses. Apparently, they’re not as strong as they look.” The scowl remained as he turned his attention back to the elf girl. “Actually, no, we don’t eat horseflesh. At least, not usually. I have eaten it, but only when there was nothing else left to eat and even then, we prefer to cook it first. We almost always cook our food first, elf. It’s cold where we live. A hot meal can help you stay alive.”

Taking up her chain, the Azengorean warrior led her back into the castle that had recently been her own. “Now, though, I am hungry. You will find me food and drink, and you will serve it to me at the table. I will let you off your chain so that you can make the proper arrangements. You may also see to it that your father’s remains, except for his head, and the remains of any of the rest of your people who fell are buried or disposed of according to your own customs.” Perhaps unnecessarily, he added, “I am trusting you that you will return to the great hall to serve me once you have taken care of that business.”

With that, he did not remove the chain from her wrist, but rather wrapped up the length he was holding into a coil and handed it to her, letting her effectively hold her own chain. A firm smack on her rear informed her that Grimnir expected her to hurry, and he set off for the great hall to see to his own work there.

Upon his return to the great hall, Grimnir found that it was much emptier than when he left. Hjalmtyr and Asbjorn were still there to serve as his bodyguards, but most of the other Azengoreans had dispersed through the castle to find out the information their thane had requested. A few Synden remained, as well, mostly servants doing the unpleasant work of scrubbing blood off of the flagstones or tidying up torn tapestries or binding wounds. A fire now burned properly in the fireplace, and it seemed that a small semblance of order was once again being restored to the castle.

The Thane of Gulltown stepped up onto the dais, and sat firmly on the Synden Royal Throne, uncomfortable though it was, having been made for a much smaller man. Idly rubbing at his bearded chin, he pondered how best to utilize this new land, and what its conquest could mean to him. Certainly, it would increase his standing with the king, but perhaps it could be parlayed into more than that. In order to utilize it fully, though, he would have to know more about the land and its secrets, secrets that were proving difficult to obtain without the assistance of the elf-girl. If she could be made more compliant, then the situation would have more potential. But how to accomplish that, he wondered. She seemed small but tougher than expected, and resourceful. Still, a couple of ideas did come to mind…

He held his beliefs on her kind, and she her own about his. The accusations of beast eater seemed to anger him, or at least drive a deeper annoyance towards her out of the Thane. Gia simply drew a sharp breath as he denied the statements and declared his new hunger, catching the chain attached to her wrist as he shoved it against her. "You have taken or killed most of my people! Who will cook your meal?" She paused, a slow realization comung into her mind. "I know nothing of a kitchen! Allow me to take along a cook, and a maid. Please. Three can work faster than one."

She glanced over to the group of still blocked Syndens, studying the faces of the seemingly horrified elven folk watching her. The shame of their princess, new queen, left as nearly a pet to this invading mass. "Forgive me," she whispered, looking to the Thane once more. But he was already stalking off, returning to his newly gained castle's throne. Instead, she called out to the one-eyed one, attempting to keep her tone firm. "Burial requires some to leave the castle walls. Is this something you will allow? The burial lands are not far. But we will need four of our horses, wagons. Your Thane gave me permission to honor our deceased as our customs dictate," she reminded him.

A man, not much older than Gia, and a girl, around her own age, were her choices as her kitchen assistance. One of the Azengorian men noticed this, shaking his head and pointing back into the group. "Too young. You will take the ancient ones. They have no major use to us out here. Prove them useful elsewhere, girl."

Gia glared at him, but did as told. An older woman, a man with a flowing gray beard. "We can do this. A simple meal. Enough to please their leader. Our- our new leader."

"No," the woman whispered, reaching for Gia's hand. "That is you. That is you, Gia." The woman started to remove the apron she wore, attempting to wrap the nude girl with it.

"You are kind. But wrong. Please. Do not do this." The girl closed her eyes, pushing away the fabric before turning to head inside. "Two chickens. A barrel's worth of wine. Bread. Fruits. If we fill his stomach, he may lead to more sociable conversation. More willing to take negotiations."

"You cannot reason with them!," the man scoffed, shaking his head.

"Have faith in me, old one." Gia gave him a hopeful smile, joining the two in the kitchen area and setting to find the fruits to place upon the large silver tray. "It is at least worth trying. He seems to have begun trust in me. Perhaps more can come from this."

The food took time. Roasting and boiling, setting and preparing. The meats and vegetables, stacks of breads and large containers of deeply hued wine. Gia carried the tray as best she could, the weight of it certainly far more than either elder could handle. The girl struggled under the load, grimacing as the woman pulled open the crown room's door for her. Sliding the tray to the table, she stood aside as the wine and breadbasket were placed beside it.

"Your meal, Thane." She glanced to the elders, nodding to them. "Go. Please tend to the mess we have made." She looked back to him then, studying his heavy features. "What else would you have now? The dead are tended to, your foods provided. My people are at work for yours." She drew a somewhat sharp breath, trying to contain her thoughts. "Eat, Thane. Do not let our efforts grow cold."

Odo shrugged his massive shoulders at the elf’s request. “The Thane said you could do it according to your own customs,” he replied, “so I guess you can take a wagon and some of your horses, if that’s what you need. But I’m sending a couple of men with them to make sure they come back. The Thane may be starting to trust the knife-ears, or at least you, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Inside the castle, Grimnir waited in silence for his meal to arrive, a small smile crossing his face at the thought of the once-haughty elf reduced to working in the kitchens. Perhaps she’d gain an appreciation for how her own people had to work to serve her and her father. Perhaps she’d spice his soup with whatever it was they kept around to poison rats. Or maybe she’d just learn to cook a decent meal, which would be a victory in and of itself, particularly since he was increasingly tempted to keep her around for the longer term.

Once the smell of roasting chicken began to carry through the hall, the thane realized just how hungry he was. It had been a long morning and afternoon of stealthy travel followed by frantic fighting, and then the cagey business of inventorying the captured castle, divvying up the plunder, and dealing with the elf-girl and her people. At least the elves hadn’t been too much trouble, for all that they could be meeting in secret right now to plot his murder, though, to be fair, to them it wouldn’t seem like murder at all.

At last, the great carved doors to the hall swung open, and the naked elf struggled in under the weight of the huge silver platter bearing the evening’s repast. Dark eyes took in her sweaty form, noting the signs that she had been truly laboring in the kitchen alongside the two elderly servants. He then glanced at the food and nodded his approval, though he did look questioningly at one or two of the items on the plate, perhaps not recognizing some of the foreign fruit. “What else would I have now? I would have you tell me what this particular thing is, and how one eats it.” He tossed her an orange. “I have never seen anything like it before.” The big man sat at the table and pulled a leg off of one of the roast chickens, sniffing it curiously before taking a bite, chewing carefully, and swallowing. “That’s good! It pleases me that you can figure out how to cook, even with assistance. Some people never learn.” He waved the chicken leg in the direction of the doors. “We have to cook for ourselves when we’re out on the longships, of course, and Asbjorn there could probably burn water.”

The thane paused, took a deep drink of wine, and again nodded his approval. “And the wine is good, as well. Even in the frozen North, we have heard of the glories of Synden wine. Every now and then, a trader comes to try to sell us a cask, but usually it’s so expensive that no one can afford it.” He gestured to the floor next to his chair. “Come and kneel here while I eat, elf-girl.”

Gia caught the fruit easily as he lobbed it over to her, holding it with both hands and looking at him curiously. "You have never seen an orange before?," She asked softly, surprised at this. He had stated before that his own land was a place of much harsher climate, and that things there were much different than the home she knew so well. Still cradling the fruit, she moved a step closer, eyeing him as he tore into the foods presented before him. He seemed more gentle in his methods of eating than she had expected, the tales of the vicious beasts of the North that devoured their horses and feasted like animals looking to be more of those stories told to keep children behaving.

"I learn what I need to, Thane," She noted as he spoke between bites, hiding the little smile and tiny laugh she gave over his comment on the one-eyed man behind her hand. She had seen his attempted gracefulness, and could only imagine the man trying to handle a duty such as a meal. Her eyes widened as she realized what she had just done- laughing at his words? She quickly looked to the floor, shaking her head to herself.

The sound of his gulping drinks caused her to look up again, the nod he gave caught with her gaze. "If there is one thing our people have learned, it is how to tend our fields and make best of its gifts...."

Gia hesitated slightly as he pointed beside him, calling for her to return to his side, finally moving slowly to kneel alongside the throne. The orange was still in her hand, the elf girl looking back up to him as she held it before her. "This, Thane... Is an orange. The exterior is- somewhat like your armor. Protects what it hidden. It most be removed to find the flesh inside, the softness within." She started to peel it open, the rind set beside her as she exposed the edible parts. Tearing off a section, she held it up to him, a delicate pinch between her fingers. "It is full of juice, Thane. Sometimes it can be a touch bitter before it is sweet."

Grimnir chuckled quietly as he reached out and took Gia’s wrist with one large hand. “An orange, is it? It’s certainly very orange. Do they grow wild, or are they cultivated?” Guiding her hand to his mouth, the thane carefully took the orange from her fingers with his teeth, which lightly scraped across the skin of her fingertips as he did so. He then sat back with a grin to enjoy the orange slice, which he did with obvious relish. “That is very nice, girl. I like that it keeps its sweet juices safe beneath that tough skin, and the sweet with just a little sharp tang to it is very appealing. I can see why none of these ever made it as far as Gulltown – they’d have been snapped up in the trader’s first port of call!”

Pausing to wash down the orange wedge with a mouthful of Synden wine, the thane considered his next course. A number of his men began to file in, seeking their own food now that late afternoon had come and the conquest of the castle seemed complete. A few orders set the Synden servants who remained to work in the kitchens, preparing additional if less elaborate meals for their conquerors.

Seeming to arrive at some decision, Grimnir began to pile some food on a smaller plate, including a chicken thigh, an orange, and some of the vegetables that had been brought out. Reaching down, he set the small plate on the floor in front of the elf-girl, and addressed her quietly, “You may eat, as well. This has been a difficult day for you, and it isn’t over yet, but I will not have you passing out because you haven’t had any food.” With that, he calmly rested his calloused right hand on the back of her neck and turned his attention back to his dinner, eating and drinking deftly with his off-hand.

The Synden servants watched in semi-bemused horror as the Thane of Gulltown proceeded to demolish the food set before him. He ate at least twice as much as any Synden and drank three times as much, though without much visible effect besides a slight reddening of his already-ruddy complexion.

The large man's sudden grasp upon her wrist caused Gia to look up in surprise, afraid he was suddenly going to bite off her fingers or yank her arm out of socket, something horrific for trying to offer him the fruit. She gave a tiny sound of fear as he leaned in, gently taking the slice from her fingers, barely letting his teeth pass against her skin and his facial hair teasing her fingertips. "They were. Wild to begin with." Her voice was quiet, halted. Unexpecting of that action from him. "Our farmers learned to develop them a bit more, encourage larger fruits from the trees..." She smiled softly as he complimented the rarity's taste and method, the smile growing a bit more as he joked on the reasons on the fruit never making it to him prior to this.

She settled back a bit as he returned to his other food, to gulp down his drink as the cup continued to be filled. The now returning men from his group had started to demand food of their own, Gia's efforts for the Thane being taken up by others in a modest attempt to satisfy the large brutes. Gia was still upon her knees at his side as the new foods were brought in, her gaze refusing to rise as more of her former castle staff placed platters upon the table. The Thane's new plateful of food wasn't surprising to her, her attention trying to drift away. It did surprise her, though, when that plate was set before her, She looked down upon it as though it were completely foreign to her, almost the same look he had given the fruit earlier. Slowly, she reached down, hesitantly taking up the chunk of bread and nibbling at it. A shiver ran through her as his hand fell upon her neck, closing her eyes once again as she tried to eat. A dog at it's master's feet, devouring his scraps- was that what she had become?

Something he had said stayed upon her ears, a reminder that the day was far from done.

She tried to not let this linger inside her mind. Instead, she attempted to eat, to regain her strength. Gia would not fight him as she had attempted earlier, but she did not trust his men, nor that he would not ask more demonstrations of what she was capable of. To be too weak could be something she regretted, and to refuse the offered food was not defiant- merely a fool's tactic. She knew better than to punish her own body for someone else's misdeeds. No. To be of any use, she needed her strength.

"Thank you, Thane."
The words were uttered softly, barely above a whisper, as she continued to eat delicately.