Flames of War

[RedHairedandFriendly]

The morning dawn stirred Talia from her slumber, she stretched and felt her body aching. She wondered if her body was supposed to feel that of a 30 year old, instead of the young 19 that she was. She had worn skirts and danced with the finest in the land, and now she laid beneath a canvas covering. Tossing the covers from her, she used the water in the basin to cleanse her body.

She smelled of the arousal from her dream last night. Talia had awaken with her hand across her breasts and the name of her enemy on her lips. She scrubbed her sex, hard, wanting to cleanse the feel of him resting upon it, from her memory. Talia had never lain with a man, but within her dreams, she felt the Prince of Alleutia inside her, driving her body. Then just as suddenly her dream would shift to a black void, then she would awaken. Beads of sweat on her skin, and the scent of the moisture between her legs reaching up to her.

Feeling her body was finally washed of him, Talia took the long linen straps and bound her breasts. Though all the men, knew she was a woman, Calab and her both agreed that temptation during war, was to high, and so she hid her features as best she could.

She grabbed her breeches and pulled them up. They snugly curved around her thighs and over her rump, but this couldn't be disguised. She had cuffed Calab's ears when he suggested she stuff a roll of bandages into her crotch. Instead to help with the effect, she had pulled her knife and hacked her hair, now it was trying to grow back. Soft waves and curls attempted to show her beauty, and she was often seen with a black scarf keeping the tuffs of hair from showing.

Talia grabbed her vest and slipped it on, her arm, didn't sting as much, so she removed the bandage and headed off to find Calab.

She saw her friend huddled with the other men. They saw her approaching and moved off to give her room. "Are we ready?" She asked them. Calab noticed her arm and pulled his knife from his scabbard. "Not now you fool. Clean it first!" She watched as he headed off to do as she had bid him. Muttering how foolish her beliefs were, but relenting to do her will.

"Are we ready?" She asked again.

Her answer was quickly given by another one of the loyal men, "Yes, we are prepared. The "Golden Noble" won't be here, but some of his best men will be." She watched as maps were pulled and spots were pointed at.

"I think we should wait."

Talia turned to Calab, "Why?" She was curious as to why her friend would go against the majority.

"Young Tim, didn't return last night." He looked deep into Talia's eyes, hoping she would see the wisdom in his words. However, he knew the hate in her heart had won again.

Talia glared at Calab, then back to the others, "What do all of you think? Do we attack tonight or wait and let them pick through us even more?" The men rallied around Talia, and Calab feared that if something or someone didn't stop her, soon her heart would be as black as her fathers.

"We go tonight!" Talia turned and moved away, Calab followed. Sitting down on a broken trunk of a tree, she bit her lip as Calab used his knife to cut away the strings that had kept her skin closed. "I know you believe I'm not thinking straight." Her voice sounded disappointing even to herself.

"Your Highness," Calab began, tired of the same message he tried to press into her. "I can not tell you what to do, only advise you. Your heart burns to kill this man, and it clouds your senses. I fear, my friend, that your father's heart beats hard inside you and your mother's is losing the battle to keep it pure."

Talia, jumped to her feet and pushed Calab from her. The stitches removed, she looked down at him, "Good! It is this black heart that will kill the bastard and then our lives will return to the way they were!" She stormed off, anger coursing through her veins, no longer would she cower to any man. Including the Prince of Alleutia.

~~~~~~~~

Night came quickly, Talia signaled for the men to slowly circle the camp. They had not seen any signs of being noticed, even Calab had begun to sense that the raid would be a success. Birds cooed and called to each other, small mating sounds, each one to the unknown would think it just the heat of passion between to courting animals, but to the soldiers of Tristian, they were signals of movement.

Quietly they moved closer. Beads of sweat raised on Talia's brow, slid down her cheek and dropped onto her chest. She could feel the heat of her body, the binding surrounding her breasts, keeping them down. Her hair was secured beneath her black scarf. She knew that without a close inspection, she looked like a man, now she just needed to fight like one. She had learned and trained, and was confident in her ability. Curling her hand around the hilt of her sword she made the signal to advance.

Each soldier slid into place, everything was going smoothly. It was at that moment, that she heard it. A sound that didn't belong in the night. A slick sound of steel being pulled from its sheath. Spinning around she witnessed the death of her friend, Calab. Soon chaos reigned around her.

 

[Suave Intent]

Although Allan had fallen into a restful slumber absent of the atrocities of war, his pleasant dreams came to an immediate end as Azrael came bursting into the Prince’s tent. It wasn’t something that the young ruler wasn’t unaccustomed to, but he felt a bit of anger raising in the pit of his stomach in response to the intrusion. Rarely was his sleep unhindered by the various nightmares that haunted him, and even rarer still were the dreams that he had had last night. Captured in the throes of passion, powerful muscles rolled in erotic delight as he forced his desire and lust into the creature beneath him. Moans of pleasure, frenzied screams, fingertips scratching enticingly against his back…the images now drifted away from his memory. Figments of his imagination that left him feverishly hot, sweat beading down his temples as he looked questioningly to Azrael.

“It’s time, Milord.” The words were spoken without emotion, Allan wondered if he was even capable of it, before he turned on his heel and stalked out of the tent. The billowing cape moving fluidly behind before the flaps to his tent closed an instant later.

“Wha…what was that all about?” Allan questioned himself. Although there had been dreams in the past that were reminiscent of the images he had just viewed, never before were the details of those encounters so vivid, nor were his lustful desires ever personified. This time they had been, and he knew the person responsible. A deep sigh escaped his lips at this last thought before he quickly shook his head to rid such frivolous thoughts from his mind. There was a job that needed to be accomplished, and Allan needed to prepare. Moving to the corner of his tent where a mannequin rested with his armor atop it, he took the padded leather armor and intricate chain mail and placed it carefully onto his body. Leather straps were pulled hard and knotted, his muscles straining at the light physical exertion as he worked attentively at making sure that everything was secured and set. Allan didn’t like to take chances.

Several minutes later, he emerged from his tent looking every bit as intimidating as the rumors had stated him to be. On his right hip rested the steel of his blade, the simple hilt stood out a few inches away from its scabbard, ready to be used at an instants notice and waiting patiently for its master’s touch. He would call upon his blade this day, but he prayed silently to himself that it would not be in vain. The objective of this mission was to annihilate the enemy force, especially the commander who had been responsible for the employment of such dirty tactics. If fate would have it, he would be the one responsible for the death of the bastard…

Heavy footsteps carried him throughout the camp as the men prepared themselves for the upcoming battle. The moon rested high in the evening sky, its pale light casting an ethereal glow over Allan as the main force positioned themselves out of sight and away from the camp. Now they need only wait for their enemy to be ensnared in their trap, and vengeance would be theirs for the taking. He could see the desire to kill etched on his men’s face, their lips pressed tight and the spark of anger easily visible in the depths of their eyes. They, like Allan, fought with dignity and honor. The cowardly tactics of the Tristans were frowned and spit upon, and now they would have their opportunity to exact revenge for their lost comrades, those who had been killed in their sleep without a chance to defend themselves…that’s when they fired.

Arrows whished by with deadly precision as the Aleutian archers fired at will. The first volley, being a complete surprise, had taken out a large portion of the Tristan army and had left many others crippled and crying out in pain. Their cries of pain weren’t loud enough; however, as the warcries of his men could soon be heard. The ring of steel soon followed as they charged in, Allan in the front brandishing his sword menacingly as he slashed out viciously, the tip of his blade ripping through the leather (they did not wear metal chain mail, as it would hinder their night raids) of an enemy as his foe out in pain and anguish. That did not deter the Prince in the least, rather, it only invigorated the warrior further. In his cry he heard the cry of his own men, and the rage and fury that overtook Allan completely warped his features and his eyes. He was relentless on the battlefield, his sword pushed and slashed, his shield lashed out, and the blood…the blood spilled onto him in such great amounts that his face was caked a mixture of the liquid, his sweat, and the dirt of the battlefield.

It was an absolute slaughter as his men pushed on, the Tristan troops completely outclassed, outnumbered, and out of hope before a piercing cry resounded through the battlefield. Infuriated and still in a state of bloodlust, Allan rushed to the sound and prepared his sword to end the sickening cry before he stopped dead in his tracks. The enemy's sword was pressed tightly into one of his comrades, the other doubled over before he fell to the ground. Blood rushed to his head and before he had even realized what had happened, Allan lunged forth. The length of his blade gleamed dangerously and an expression of complete animosity consumed his face as his free hand grappled the person responsible for his ally’s death by the neck and threw him into the ground, the tip of his blade pressing menacingly into the neck of his enemy before he realized that it was not a man…but a girl instead. The blood drained immediately from his face as the realization of who this person was dawned on him. Hiis swordarm grew heavy and he felt the cool metal slip from his hand, but his grip on her neck never onced relented in it’s possessive hold.

“Tal…ia?”

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia looked into his eyes. Eyes that filled her nights with desire and her days with rage. His hands were around her neck, her breathing all ready hindered from the physical exertion of battle. This isn't what she had planned. Her knife should have been buried in his belly, but instead she knew deep down it was over.

This battle had ended. Her friend dead just a few feet away, the cries of her country men, ringing in her ears. Regret at having not listened to Calab, wounded her heart. "Prince Allan," her voice barely a whisper. She kept her eyes locked with his, as her hand slowly slid to her waist. Inching her fingers to the small dagger, she always kept on her person, she slipped it out and pressed it to his groin. "Release me."

She waited for him to do something, say something, but no words came. Instead a sword was pressed against her neck. Looking up she saw the eyes of an Alluetian soldier. She dropped her dagger and felt Allan lift her from the ground. She looked around at the carnage in front of her. Her eyes rested on Calab, "So your war kills another I love."

What men of Tristian that lived, were being huddled together, shuffled like herds of cattle. Allan moved his hand from her throat, only to quickly capture her arm and yank her to him. She winced slightly over the wound that had just been healed, though the skin was sealed, it still smarted. He didn't notice or if he did he cared not. She had seen this face, this heated rage that boiled beneath the handsome visage.

She watched her men, loyal to her and her deceased mother. "He still won't bargain for my life. My father will see me rot in Hell before he does anything to aid you in this war!" He said nothing to her, as he instructed the man that had placed his sword along her neck to deal with the pests. Talia's arm stung more as Allan dragged her away. Her men pleading for him, to release her. Their cries fell on death ears as she was pulled further away. Her mind closed off the memories of the days before he had left her at her father's mercy and he had trampled on her heart.

 

[Suave Intent]

The grip around her arm was iron-tight, thick fingers nearly wrapping around the limb’s entire girth as he pulled, nearly dragged the girl back to the command tent at the center of his camp. Filled with rage and fury only a few moments before, Allan now wore a determined look as he turned to glare at her, her incessant speech cut to an abrupt end as he stared angrily towards her. He fought hard not to erupt at her in the presence of their men, the masculine line of his jaw held tight while he gritted his teeth in an effort to prolong the words that threatened to escape him. At this point and time, even Azrael knew better than to pester the Prince when he was in such a state, and he stood a good distance away while Allan stormed angrily into the tent, the prisoner in tow.

In the tent’s interior, Allan flung Talia into the pillows of his bed and moved across to a small cabinet. A bottle of wine was quickly proffered as he popped the cork and took a huge swig, rivulets of wine falling down across his strong jaw and down the bronzed flesh of his neck, eyes never once releasing their penetrating lock on Talia. There were so many emotions that erupted when Allan had caught sight of the princess, a gambit of feelings that ranged from lust and desire to an urge to kill and maim. This girl had been part of the group that had killed defenseless men in their sleep, responsible for the deaths of countless men through dirty tactics that were never condoned in the art of war.

“Are you daft, woman?! When I left you in the cabin, I left you there so that you could avoid this war you hate so much…not…not this!” At this, the bottle of wine was tossed to the ground, the glass bottle shattering and wine splattering while he glared at her angrily. The hands to his side were clenched tightly as he restrained himself to the best of his ability, but raw emotions were winning the battle slowly and he feared that at any moment, he might lash out and do something regrettable to the Princess. He needed to calm himself and fast.

His chest heaved heavily, a deep breath taken before he moved towards the leather straps of his armor. First came the emblem of his country, the heavy cloth tossed nonchalantly into the corner before he started working on the chain mail, the heavy metal links removed easily as it fell into a pool at his feet. The protective leather came last, the thick material’s surface shone with oil and sweat, the heady scents quite familiar to Allan but offering a somewhat unusual musk to Talia (though she had probably gotten used to the scent too, by now). Through gritted teeth, he asked his next question.

“What are you doing here, Princess?”

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia looked at him, his anger no longer frightened her, she had taken lives the only way she knew how, yes they raided at night, yes people slept as they took them and if he asked her why then she would tell him, for now she held her tongue. She only wished to bury her knife into his gut, she still felt the one hidden in her boot. Soon she would do what her heart craved, carve his from his body.

She sat there in stony silence watching the wine seep into the dust and grime on the floor, the shards of glass beckoning her to confiscate one. She washed that idea from her mind, no way could he be so stupid as to not see her do that, the knife hidden in her boot was all she had right now and it wasn't the right time to use it.

Looking back at him, her eyes full of hate, "I'm here to kill you." Her voice dripped of pain, sarcasm and anger. "You left me Prince. Left me to a man that hit me, forced me to live without food or water. Locked me away, called me a whore. I saw this war, and I fought in it, so I could kill you."

She moved from the bed, and approached him, her hair and breast still hidden from his view, she knew that he no longer found her appealing, and in truth never had, "You are the only reason I'm in this war, that and the fact that my liege Lord, my King, my Father, is killing our men with his stupid tactics, so I now fight for the destruction of Alluetia and the rise of Tristian."

 

[Suave Intent]

Grasping her arms with his powerful hands, Talia was held still as he looked at her through fierce, azure eyes. The expression he wore said nothing of his emotions, nor did his penetrating gaze reflect anything other than an intense focus. He was sizing her up and she knew it, and even when she tried to look away…she was unable to when forced into the focus of his unyielding gaze. His next words were much calmer than his previous, but the anger and fury could not be hidden no matter how hard he tried to speak calmly. “Your King is a fool, and Tristan is doomed. Go away, Princess. Go back to your cabin and seclude yourself from the harsh realities that you have finally seen in this last year, for the hardships of war do not suit you.”

Without so much as another word, he released her from his grip and pushed her through the flaps of his tent. Heavy footsteps carried him back into the center of the tent as he waited patiently for her to leave…but she didn’t.

“Princess…I owe you for my life, that debt is now repaid. My men will not touch you as you try to leave, but I want you out of my sight. You let your rage consume you, were willing to kill helpless men even though you argued to me how you valued all life, how you hated this war because of the tears it caused. This lifestyle does not befit someone of your…stature. Go home, go anywhere, just don’t let yourself be consumed by your hatred.”

The words had been spoken with a hint of softness, his anger waning as he turned to look over his shoulder, a deep sympathy felt for the Princess who had endured so much. Although he felt that he should say something else, he could not deny the feeling that she had stirred within the pit of his stomach. He felt sick to his core…for she was the direct result of what this war had done to those who had once been innocent. He also felt something else stirring, but he refused to acknowledge those feelings, hence the reason he wanted her gone from his life. He had caused her too much pain already, and refused to cause her anymore.

(These posts are so short...it feels weird actually RPing with you doing back-to-back posts, lol. Almost...foreign, haha)

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia heard his final words, sugar coated ones to a woman that he thought was the naieve little girl that he left unconsious in the cabin. She knew that though his back was turned, he still sensed her presence. She kept her mouth shut, and slowly bent at the waist, her knife slipped into her hand. Her words came from deep inside her.

"My cabin is burned. He destoyed it, called it my whore house. He burned it all. My mother's beautiful gowns, her pictures, her lovely soaps. Everything. I saved your life and you ruined mine." Talia knew he heard her, but he refused to look at her, refused to acknowledge her in anyway. So she continued, "I took lives while they slept, because I knew no other way. Your armies were besting ours, I admit it was low, and cowardly... but Allan I only learned from the best. Not my father, but by you."

She swiftly moved up behind him and placed her knife to his throat. "You made me who I am Prince. Not my father, not this war, but you. You took my kindness and my caring and you used it. You pretended to care, you pretended that all the things I apologized for were forgiven, but then when the men came, you struck me, and left me to my father's hands and for that, for that cowardly act, I acted the coward and claimed your men's lives. You only have yourself to blame. You remember that as I spill your life's blood from your throat."

Talia pressed the knife against his flesh.

 

[Suave Intent]

Stupid girl. Before Talia even had a chance to react, Allan launched into action by sending his elbow viciously into the girl's midsection. The hit connected hard and resulted in a multitude of effects; her dagger came clashing to the ground, her breath was momentarily gone, and Allan was thereby allowed to followup the hit, strong hands moving to her right arm as he tossed her over the shoulder and onto the unforgiving ground below. "Go away, little girl...you don't even come close to having the necessary skill or drive to get away with killing me. You''re like a child trying to play dress up, but this isn't pretend, it's reality!" The flare in his eyes returned as he looked towards Talia's fallen frame...tears in her eyes as she fought against Allan's words and her own conviction. Her conviction won out.

Her hand moved with lightning speed as she lunged for her fallen dagger, but the Prince was quick to catch on and moved to intercept. His left foot kicked the metallic weapon away as she jumped back onto her feet and started wailing away at Allan's chest. Small fists clenched tightly together as she slammed them into the hardened muscles of his pecs...Allan's hands moving immediately to her own as he captured her wrists tightly and forced her arms to rest at her sides, his neck craning forth as he pressed his lips tightly against her own, her body fighting against his lustful aggression viciously before he forced her lithe frame to the right and slammed her back against the wooden support pole of the tent. The onslaught of his lips upon her own never once ceasing as he gave into his passion and lust, her angered resistence ignored all the while as he pressed his body hard against the unwilling frame of the princess and held her pinned between his rock-like body and the pole behind her.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia's head throbbed and her lips hurt. Her back was pressed hard against the pole as his body squeezed the front of her. The binding around her breasts dug into her skin and the scarf had started to slip from her hair. His iron grip moved from her arms to lock in both of her wrists and pressed them between thier bodies, useing one hand he kept her wrist locked together.

Talia shifted her head away from him and refused to give him access to the swollen, trembling lips. Tears hovered on her eyes, and yet she would not allow them to fall. He gripped her chin and brought it back to face him. Again his lips decended to hers. She waited for his touch. All Talia wanted was to feel revulsion and anger, but she didn't, she didn't know what she felt.

The man that had her pinned was stirring a hunger inside her body, one that ached to be free. A hunger that had been denied. She hated the way he made her feel. His grip hurt and she winced slightly as a small whimper escaped her mouth.

 

[Suave Intent]

Grasping both of her wrists within a single hand, Allan was now allowed a bit more freedom of action as he continued to hungrily kiss the girl before him. When she had jerked her head away, his free hand forced it back, any words of objection drowned out immediately as his lips devoured her own. As much as her body refused his, her muscles tight and her body pushing forcefully against his own, he never once relented in his lustful onslaught. His hand, now free from the burden of her left wrist, moved underneath the hem of her shirt, calloused fingertips playing deftly against her bare skin. As his hand explored northward, the tight bandages were immediately encountered and a slight frown crossed his handsome visage. He broke the kiss, lust-filled eyes continuing their entrancing hold on her as he released her from his grip and sent her lithe frame down into the lush pillows of his makeshift bed.

Still unable to speak, Talia landed with her back to the pillows and her body frozen, the small bandana falling away to reveal the shortened hair that had been hacked away at her own volition. Her lungs burned with the need for air, the kiss having completely robbed her of the ability of that function as she continued to stare wordlessly up to her powerful capturer. Every instinct in her body told her to run and her mind told her to lash out at him verbally for the actions he had committed, but she remained frozen in place and unable to do either. She parted her lips, deep breaths now taken in an attempt to cool off her body and mind as she fought back the feral desires that he had awakened within her. Her nipples were sore, diamond-like nubs poking out from underneath the tight bandages while the heat of her sex could be felt burning throughout her entire body, the flesh of her skin clearly flushed as she swallowed hard and waited in fear (or was it anticipation) of what he was going to do next. She didn’t have to wait long.

Bending at his waist and retrieving the knife that he had earlier wrested from her grip, the metallic hilt quickly found itself in the palm of his hand. The blade’s tip reflected dangerously in the candlelit room as Allan stalked predatorily towards her, blade outstretched and eyes moving over her tense body intently. He was surprised that she hadn’t taken action or spoken yet. To be honest, he was half-expecting her to send a knee into his crotch or to at least yell at him with heated words, but she did neither. Instead, she waited for him patiently, deep breaths expelled through her moist lips while she propped herself up with an elbow, knees bent to the side as she remained in the position that she had landed in.

Her eyes returned the intensity of his own equally, but something else ignited to life as he straddled her legs and placed the palm of his hand against her restricted chest, her elbow giving way as he forced her to lie down against the soft cushions of his bed. Then she felt it…the cool metal was pressed flat against her bare midsection as he drew the dagger lazily upward. It only took her a second to realize what he was doing, and before she was allowed to object, the blade leapt into action. The dagger was like an extension of his body as he worked its sharp edge over her bandages, the soft material quickly yielding to his experienced touch as the cloth fell away from her body and into his hand. Too bad he couldn’t see the fruits of his labor; however, for the small tunic she wore still hid her well endowed attributes from his eyes. Much better, Allan quickly thought to himself, his hands slowly withdrawn from underneath her shirt as he discarded the material nonchalantly to his side.

“So tell me Princess…” his body lingering atop her own while her wrists were once again captured in the grip of his hand, “what is the cause for your obsession with my death?” Before she had a chance to respond to his playful taunt; however, his lips descended upon hers once again. The moist entrance to her mouth yielded unexpectedly to his experienced lips while his tongue slipped enticingly against her own, a soft moan elicited in response to his expert actions. That’s when reality crashed back down upon her and she realized who this man was. Without hesitation, her teeth came down hard upon Allan’s tongue as she forced his body away from her own, hands and legs kicking out haphazardly as the Prince rolled to his side and cursed loudly.

“Bitch!” Piercing blue eyes locked firmly against her own as he spit out the blood from her attack to the side…his right hand moving up immediately to inspect the damage she had inflicted. “Wasn’t that a bit uncalled for, Milady?” The playfulness in his voice was easily detected, and one had to wonder how Allan remained so casual, all things considered. Or…did he do it purposefully to enrage the Princess further? It was hard to tell in the seconds that passed, cause rarely did the Prince ever give away anything when confronted with a worthy adversary.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia took great breaths of air, her eyes bored into the man that had stirred such feelings in her. She saw the blood along his mouth and tasted it in hers, she spit the taste of him out and wiped her lips with the palm of her hand.

"Bitch!" She repeats, "You call me a bitch, while you act like the ass you are." Her anger boiled and she felt, herself once more beginning to lose control of her emotions. "You spoke of how the Tristian's were cowards, you Sir are just as much a coward, when you force yourself upon a woman."

She moved towards him, closing the distance. Her eyes burning raw hunger and her body still craving more, yet she refused to answer the call it demanded. Talia was angry and Allan stood there a cocky grin on his face, his eye laughing at her. She had enough of his smirks, his humorous expressions and she was sick of the way he belittled her and treated her like a child.

Talia reached out, her small fingers clenched tight in a fist and with all the strength she had she hit him. His head barely moved, but his eyes spoke daggers of flame as he grabbed her wrists once more. Pulling her to him, she could sense the change in him, this time she had gone to far and she knew it. Now all Talia feared was what he would do next, and how she would respond.

 

[Suave Intent]

Tsk, tsk, tsk, resorting to violence now, was she? Although he hadn’t expected it, instincts had taken hold immediately and Allan was able to avoid taking the full force of her fist (at the last possible moment, his head had jerked away just as her punch connected, the result of which lessened the impact greatly). Letting another grin slip onto his lips, her wrists were quickly recaptured as he pressed his body tightly against her own, her petite frame forced back against the wooden pole she had previously acquainted. His hands urged her arms skyward before they were interlocked and gripped tightly in a single hand above her head. In this position, her body was completely prone and helpless, her ferocious struggling completely futile as he leaned close and whispered aggressively to her ears.

“Forced? The flush on your skin and the smell of your arousal seem say to me that you want this as badly as I do. If that’s the case, you can hardly call this forcing you…unless, of course, you’d like me to gather more evidence?” The arrogant smirk caused Talia’s blood to boil, and she spit at his face in response. Although she had expected Allan to retaliate and had hardened her body in anticipation, he simply wiped away her saliva with the back of his free hand and examined it intently. Spideresque fingers extended in front of his eyes before he slowly moved his hand forward to clean it off on the front of her shirt.

“Apparently, you don’t seem convinced.”

The spark of desire was easily visible in the depths of his eyes as he pressed his hand softly against the quivering muscles of her stomach. Her body tensed in response to the intrusion and she prepared for his exploration of her now exposed chest. Unfortunately for the princess, Allan had other plans. Moving his hand southward without warning, agile fingertips quickly found the ties to her breaches and they were undone instantly. His hand continuing to move expertly on its own as he forced the material down, Talia’s legs renewing their vicious kicking as she tried frantically to stop the prince from reaching his goal. Her eyes begged Allan not to continue with his current course of action, he even saw her preparing to speak…her lips parting slowly as she mouthed the words to him.

Forcing his knee between the girl’s thighs, her legs were unwillingly split apart as his hand slipped underneath her undergarments. Calloused fingertips moved slowly across the girl’s untouched flesh before they encountered the unmistakable moisture of her arousal. His hand lingered there for a moment, the tips of his fingers playing dangerously close to the core of her sex before he withdrew his hand slowly and drew a line of moisture to her naval. It was obvious that he had restrained himself from completely violating the girl's innocence, but Talia continued to fight him regardless of the fact. He had humiliated her...had even drawn out her arrousal so that it was now visible upon her stomach.

"I don't think this constitutes forced, Milady." The words came off a bit more arrogant than had been intended, but it was too late to take them back. After they had been spoken, she had stopped kicking and struggling against him...her body growing limp as she turned to look at him. The intensity of her eyes startled him...

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia looked into the eyes of a man that had at one time been her hated enemy, then her patient, then a calming companion, quite possibly friend. He had struck her, left her to her Father's mercy, made war against her people. Now this same man, that had done all these things, faced her. She knew what he wanted, and her body had betrayed her. Her dreams had been haunting her for months, all brought on by a kiss before he left her. In truth, Talia knew that the kiss had been just added confusion, those times in the cabin, the small touches, the little looks, those things had been slowly forcing her mind and body to react to him. Talia didn't want to admit defeat to this man, but she was also tired. Tired of fighting him, tired of war, pain, destruction and death. Mostly, Talia found herself tired of the emptiness that she woke up with every morning.

With Allan's leg wedged between her's, she had gone limp against it. Now her breeches opened her body had been assaulted by him once more, this time however it hungered for more. She knew she would give in. Talia also knew that Allan would take her and then leave her, she was the enemy and nothing more. She would allow herself this moment, this time would be her's and his. She stopped her struggles, felt the cool moistness of her sex on her stomach, and ran her tongue slowly across her lips, wetting them. She saw his eyes darken and his jaw clench. She felt the pulse of her heart beating fast, and the blood of her body rushing through her veins.

Her eyes conveyed all that she wanted and Allan read them. Still holding her arms clasped over head, relaxing their hold slightly, he bent his head to kiss her, this time Talia willingly allowed him entrance. Her tongue retreated at the first touch of his, soon though her body spoke for her, and her tongue reached out to taste his. The whimper she heard from herself, surprised her, and the taste of his mouth inticed her. Angling her head, she allowed his tongue to travel deeper in her mouth, moaning and not understanding how she would be able to not have him again when he abandoned her, but for now she would take what she could. She moved her hips slowly at first, stroking the knee that her crotch rested on, bringing another jolt of emotion from her body, and another whimper of passion from her mouth.

 

[Suave Intent]

Although Allan had provoked her into the intimate embrace they now shared, the Prince couldn’t suppress the plethora of emotions that ignited within him. Lust and desire reigned dominant, but deeper feelings he was unable to define flickered to life as she accepted his advances willingly. The touch of her lips pressed invitingly against his own, the passion and craving that the princess felt almost overwhelming him as they continued their intimate kiss. Words were incapable of describing the various feelings that now bombarded his very being, and he wished with every fiber of his core that he could have expressed them to her. Emotions stronger than his lust and desire were taking hold, and those feeling as well as the play of her sex upon his knee brought reality crashing down around him.

Allowing his lips to linger upon hers for only a moment longer, he pulled away with excruciating reluctance and looked to her intently. His body ached for hers and he felt that he would not be complete unless he gave into the passionate union. However, something deep inside of him fought back viciously and refused to allow him to engage in the wanton acts he so desperately wanted. It didn’t make sense! He had been victorious, the evidence of her arousal visible in the sway of her hips as well as the lubrication that lined from her naval to the band of her underwear. So why couldn’t he commit to the act? To throw her onto his lush bed and to force their pleasure through the feral acts they both craved?

He released her hands nonchalantly, the powerful grip withdrawing from her wrists as he turned around and put as much distance between the princess as possible. The expression on her face was priceless. A mixture of disappointment and confusion, they soon gave way to frustration and anger as she was left wanting an unfulfilled. Kicking off her breaches angrily, she stormed determinedly towards Allan and placed a hand on his shoulder, her grip tightening as she forced him to turn around and look into her glaring eyes. What kind of game was the Prince of Aleutia playing?! He had worked her up, her body burning with desire and her sex hot with arousal. He had humiliated her, drawing upon her moisture and making it clear as day that he knew that she wanted him. And now…and now…

The look in his eyes had revealed more than he would have preferred. Longing and lust were clearly evident in the way he looked towards her, but even more so present were the hidden emotions that had been boiling within him ever since she had delivered that powerful slap to his face. Unconsciously, he raised his hand to rub tenderly against the flesh of his cheek as if reliving that moment…a simple grin playing across his pale lips as large hands moved back to her hips and rested comfortably against the heated flesh. He made no move to kiss her, nor was her body forced aggressively into his own. In fact, he simply held her at arms length as he continued to look to her through intriguing eyes.

She had rescued him, had cared for him, had killed his men, had even tried to kill him, had fought valiantly against his lustful attempts, and she had eventually resigned herself to his lust. She was…someone he wanted with every sense of the word, and those feelings were reflected carelessly through his eyes before he forced his gaze away and released her, a gentle push sending her small frame back a step.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia stared at him. She saw the ripples of his muscles, and felt the desire she felt for him, continue to push its way to the surface. He had kissed her with passion and desire, and she had released herself to the moment. He had pulled away, looked deeply into her eyes. She had seen confusion, lust, attraction, curiousity, and knew that her own eyes had relfected the same. Then he had released her, left her there. As if she were once more the young woman in the cabin. She wasn't that woman, that girl anymore. She was now a woman who had grown alot over the last year. She no longer feared war, no longer was afraid to express her anger over something. Talia knew about war, its conflicts, its unjust to the innocent victims. Talia had admitted to her shortcomings, and she had admitted that she acted the coward in taking the lives of others.

Now, he turned from her. She was confused and bewildered. When Alan had first pushed her away, she had taken off her breeches and grabbed him. Forced him to turn and face her. His hands had touched her. Held her. She could now still fill the touch of him on her skin, her lips and her wrist. She was angry at herself at this moment, but when he had been holding her, she had wanting to return to his arms, and feel him against her. A war raged inside her, and she struggled to make sense of it. While he had been studying her face she had been studying her body. She had been questioning herself, her desire to have this man.

Talia had run all these things in her head, and now with his back to her, and her breeches on the floor, she bent to pick them up. Sliding one leg in and then the other, she pulled them on and tied the breeches closed again. Taking a deep breath she felt her fingers trembling. Her bottom lip trembled as she felt the weak woman beginning to surface. "No!" she screamed to herself. She refused to allow herself to let those tears fall. She was obviously wrong in the things she saw in his eyes, he didn't want her. She was nothing to him after all. Not even worth sporting with, like he would a serving wench.

Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, his back still to her. Rejected again, this time not by a family member, not by her Father, her King, but by the only man to stir in her passion, desire, lust and hunger. Her long dead fiance hadn't even been able to do that. Talia quietly turned, opened the flap to the tent and stepped out into the night.

 

[Suave Intent]

Fighting back the emotions and feelings that had whirled to life within, Allan stood in silence as Talia dressed and stepped outside. The bandages were now gone, her full figure easily visible in the soft waves of moonlight as well as the various torches that lit the encampment. A fact that did not go unnoticed by the men that loitered about, silly grins pressing tightly upon their lips as they stalked closer to the female and encircled her dangerously. One brave soul even dared to take hold of her, his right hand shooting forth to grasp her arm and pull her towards him. He wasn’t successful. Before he had managed his risky feat, the Prince’s hand had intercepted the other, his powerful grip causing the soldier ample amounts of pain befor a powerful shove forced the would-be assailant back. Staring silently towards the men in front of him, Allan’s narrow eyes and placid countenance urged them to retreat, hastened apologies slipping profusely from their lips throughout the entirety of their withdrawal.

Taking one of the rich cloaks he had lying haphazardly within his tent, he placed the soft material over Talia’s shoulders and completely drowned her body in the warm material. The garment fit loosely on Allan, so one could only imagine its presence upon Talia’s lithe frame. Somehow, she managed to look perfectly at ease within the Prince’s offering, a fact that brought a rather sincere smile upon his lips as he stepped behind her and placed a comforting hand upon her shoulder.

“Tomorrow there’s going to be an envoy leaving back for Alleutia. I’m going to arrange for you some documents that will guarantee your safety, as well as your citizenship. There are some friends I’ll have take you in, as well. They sympathize with your nation’s plight and they’re loyalty lies with me. You’ll spend the night in my tent and leave at dawn’s break, is that understood?”

Without so much as another word, he urged her back into the comforts of his tent and away from numerous eyes that wandered over the couple. His men weren’t stupid, and the protectiveness and sincerity that Allan showed was an extremely rare spectacle. No one would dare bug her again, that much was for sure.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia absorbed the warmth of the robe, and the smell of Allan's scent. It wasn't until she got into the tent that the words that fell from his mouth sunk in. Throwing the robe off her shoulders, Talia turned and stared at him. "Go to Alleutia? Are you daft? Did the knock I gave your jaw, loosen your brain?" Talia stood there looking at him, disbelief rolled through her.

"Do you hate me that much? That you would send me to your land? You say I'll have safe passage!! But even you have people that will betray you!!" Talia moved about the room, pacing back and forth. She couldn't go to Alleutia, she'd never beable to get back to her armies, and her kingdom. She was the Princess, though her Father hated her, he also still needed her to bare him an heir someday. Perhaps she could still be a bartering piece for Allan, they held many high ranking officials in their dungeons.

Spinning around she told him, "I won't go to Alleutia with or without you. I'll stay here, be your prisioner and you can try and trade me. The King has many Alleutian soldiers in his dungeon, and though he dispises me, eventually he'll marry me off and need an heir. So you will do that and I will willingly allow you to and I'll do my best to not pester or cause you strife. Now, I will also not be staying in this tent with you. Since I am a prisioner, then I will stay with my men."

Talia once more walked out of the tent and left Allan inside. This time, she made her way across the dirt and grime, her eyes searching for the prisioners that had survived the carnage.

 

[Suave Intent]

The girl had lost her mind. Shaking his head ruefully and hesitating only a moment, Allan quickly followed in pursuit of the girl. Although she had gotten somewhat of a head start in this game of cat and mouse, the princess stood out in the camp like a beacon of light in the darkest of nights. A few seconds later, he had actually caught up to her. One strong arm wrapped easily around the girl’s slender waist as he all but picked her up and dragged here back into the safety of his tent. She fought viciously, hands lashing out and feet kicking as his men laughed at the spectacle she was creating. Their laughter was short-lived with a single glare of the Prince’s eyes and they moved immediately back to their previous tasks chagrined. Talia was beginning to become somewhat of a nuisance, and if this childlike behavior continued, he feared that he would do something that he would regret.

Tossing her carelessly into the confines of his tent, Talia immediately fought back and rushed towards the exit yet again. This time; however, Allan’s arm greeted her and wrapped tightly around her waist. Her back was pulled tightly against his chest as he held her still, her legs kicking and nails scratching viciously against his muscled forearm as he waited patiently for her to tire. Eventually, after several minutes or so of her futile attempts at escape, the princess surrendered herself to the inevitable and went limp in his arm. Tears of frustration could be seen gleaming in her eyes, but those tears were lost to Allan as she was bent over his arm and staring at the floor…anger welling up deep inside of her at having been caught so easily. That’s when she heard it…a voice so cold and condescending that she could have hardly believed that it had came from the man behind her.

“Are you really so arrogant to believe that your presence will turn the tides of this war, Talia Nicole Campbell? Sardia has just fallen. You know as well as I do that that was the last stronghold that Tristan had left. In one week’s time, Tristan will be burned to the ground and this war will be over. I don’t want to barter with your life, and I’m insulted that you would even imply that!”

At the news of Sardia, Talia’s back had straightened considerably. At Allan’s next words, of Tristan burning, she turned immediately to face Allan…to see if his words had been in jest for he had to be joking! The seriousness with which he looked to her confirmed her worst fears and she felt the blood drain from her face, her eyes looking imploringly into his own as he continued to speak.

“You saved my life, let me repay the favor.” His arm was still entwined around her waist, his palm resting comfortably upon the small of her back as its counterpart moved slowly up to her face, a loose strand of hair tucked behind her ear as he continued. “I promise that no harm will come of you, so please do not fight me on this.”

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

She stood there in shock. Nausea stirred in her belly. “Burn it down,” the words echoed in her head. Her home, her heritage, the only place she had left that held her mother's memory. Talia had never wanted that, she knew now that since Sardia had fallen Tristian would fall in one week if not less. They had lost, her country men, their families, her own happiness, had been for naught.

Looking at him, her eyes full of pain, sorrow and anger, “I've never asked you for payment, Allan.” Her voice quivered. “I beg you not to burn Tristian. I won't lie to you, I ask you not to for myself, it holds the only happy memories of my childhood that I have left. But, not only for me, but for the people. It is a strong keep. You know this, perhaps you can appoint someone lord over it. It would be a waste to destroy it. I never asked for payment, remember that. If you won't do it for payment, then what do you want? Name your price for my countrymen's home, I'll pay it. My father is weak, he won't care about his people but I do..” Stepping back she slowly began to undress for him.

Her fingers worked the ties of her tunic, and she shifted it from her body. It fell with a quiet thump onto the floor. Next she moved her shaking fingers to her breeches. She watched his eyes rake over her as she worked those ties free also. Slipping her feet out of her boots, she quickly pulled off her breeches and underwear.

She stood before him, naked and exposed, open to his vile words, she knew he would spew at her. He didn't want her, she knew that, but perhaps if she agreed to play his whore, he would give her the request. Once more she looked at him, her face pale, as her stomach knotted. “Don' t burn Tristian, I'll stay with you. I'll stay in your bed. I'll not fight you. I'll play your whore, just spare the lives and homes of my people.”

 

[Suave Intent]

Allan had never felt more disappointed than at this moment. Sighing deeply and allowing for that sentiment to show in his eyes, his face, even his posture, Allan turned away from her momentarily to retrieve the cloak that had been discarded when she had first attempted to flee. Although he knew that she had been desperate to save her kinsmen and had gone to far lengths (dishonorable, he might add) to do so, this was a completely new low that left the prince sick to his stomach. Not another word was exchanged between the pair as he stalked slowly around her, azure eyes taking in every inch of her exposed flesh as the cloak was placed once again on her shoulders, the front closed loosely together and held in place by tying the belt as tightly as he could manage.

It took a moment for him to compose himself, for her devout loyalty to her people had caught him flat-footed and completely off guard. Truth be told, Allan now wondered if she was thinking back to that fateful day their paths had crossed. He knew that she had had ample occasions to end his life, and now he questioned whether or not she had wished that she had ended it when she had had the chance. From the look in her eyes, a distant, almost lost expression…he didn’t doubt that she was wondering those same things.

The uneasy silence in the tent continued as Allan moved about his tasks for the night. Various maps needing attention as he planned the assault on Tristan and the remaining forces that had yet to be wiped out. Talia remained motionless the entire time. Pathetically small in the thick and oversized cloak she now wore, Allan could tell that her body was trembling with the revelation that he had just delivered her. This was the last thing the prince had wanted. He had told her those things to motivate her to leave, to push her away from the dangerous front and to live safely and comfortably in Alleutia, a new life ahead of her where the trials and hardships of war could be forgotten. Apparently, they didn’t see eye-to-eye.

He couldn’t concentrate like this! Breathing in deeply and allowing for determined steps to carry his powerful frame in front of her own, Allan’s arm came fast and swiftly, the palm of his hand connecting viciously against her cheek as he slapped the girl back into reality. “You may not like what is about to happen, you may even hate me with every ounce of your being…but that isn’t going to stop what happens next. If you want to make a difference, make it!” With that being said, her clothes were shoved back hard into her stomach, as well as her dagger and something else that clanked metallically against it. It was a key.

“Your men are being held south of here, a red banner marks their tents. There will be a change of guard in ten minutes, where you’ll be allowed to sneak in and unlock their bindings. Four more hours after that, if your men are brave and have the resolve that you do…you can attempt to escape from here. More likely than not you’ll all be killed in the process, but there is a glimmer of hope. My debt is paid to you in full, now go before it’s too late.”

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

She stood there, stunned and shocked beyond words. Silent tears fell down her cheeks, she was numb. Talia was lost and confused. Everything she did and everything she tried, had failed. Silence hung in the air. She sat down on a stool that had been in the corner of the room, and just quietly drew into herself.

Allan had, burned her. He had torn her soul and she no longer knew what to do. Picking up the key she held it in her hands. He was right, her men would die, she would die. Standing up, she dropped the robe from her body, and slowly began to put on her tunic, she left the boots and breeches on the ground as she slipped her underware back on. She felt the wieght of the world on her shoulders and in her stomach. No longer was she going to fight him, he had won.

Taking her boots she wrapped the breeches around them. Then she moved the stool to the center of the room. Not once did she look at him, the man that she no longer knew how to communicate with. She placed the key on the stool. She wouldn't kill her men, she didn't care about herself anymore, she was nothing, an empty shell. But her men and her country was all she had left, for Allan had shown her right, she had given up her honor.

Placing her boots and breeches down on the floor she lowered herself to it. Taking the robe she covered her body. Closing her eyes, the tears that had not fallen, but had been on the verge fell. She was done, tired, worn and beaten.

 

[Suave Intent]

Her tears had cut him deeper than any sword could have ever hoped. Purposefully avoiding Talia’s pathetic form, he tried hard to focus on the tasks at hand but failed miserably in the process. Her sobbing wasn’t something one could easily ignore, and he felt deeply remorseful at the harshness with which he treated her. Earlier, he had wanted revenge against the person responsible for the massacre of his kinsmen, and now he had attained it. Allan remembered something his father had told him long ago, something that Azrael had reinforced day in and day out throughout their exploits. Compassion was for the weak, and one couldn’t carry such emotions and be successful on the battlefield. The prince had tried hard to hold onto such ideals, had even been capable of fighting back the emotions that consumed him when he killed…but watching the princess bawl like this completely stripped him of his defenses. Without thinking, he acted.

Calm footsteps lead him to Talia’s tear-racked frame as he bent low to retrieve her arm and pull her up. In her current state, she yielded to his body’s command without complaint and allowed her small form to be enveloped within his own. Powerful arms wrapped tightly around her waist as he urged her trembling form closer, a hand moving in comfortable circles on her back as his other pressed gently on the back of her head, her tears now soaking the front of his tunic. Time was insubstantial in this private moment they shared, and in more ways than he could count, it felt as if this intimate act was far more precious than the kisses they had exchanged earlier.

“When you say that I abandoned you…I never meant for it to turn out this way. If I had more time I would have made it obvious that I had somehow forced the situation, and you would have been accepted back with open arms as I had originally hoped. Your kind eyes were never meant to have seen to the harsh realities of war, and I am truly sorry for whatever pain I may have caused.”

The words exuded honesty and compassion, and his sincerity could not be misplaced. Truth be told, they were the first words of their nature that he had ever let slip past his lips, and he felt somewhat unsure of himself after the fact. Whatever the case, Allan continued to hold the girl close, his arms providing a protective barrier around her as he fought back the guilt of her pain that threatened to consume him. He never intended it to turn out this way…he swore it! If she looked into his eyes, she could easily see the truth of his words, as well as his feelings.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia buried her head in Allan's neck, her tears had been emptied and now exhaustion was close behind. She was still just as confused, now after hearing his words, her mind still shadowed doubt and pain, she no longer knew what to do. She had been thrust into taking care of a Kingdom, that she had only known the minor details of running, relying on a husband, that was never to be, to run the country. In Allan's arms once more, Talia's heart broke further.

Looking into his eyes, she saw raw emotion. Honest sincereity and something else, but she was to scared, to afraid to hope, that perhaps it was something more. She rested in his arms as he carried her to the bed. He turned around and sat down upon it. Still holding her close, one arm around his neck and the other curled in a small fist against his chest. Talia allowed her eyes to look over his face, the lay of his hair, the chisled features of his jaw, the color of his eyes. She memorized all she could of him, just incase... incase he had been untruthful, and he did abandon her, everyone else had. Her mother, her fiance, her father, Calab, and even Allan... he had abandoned her twice, she felt her heart grow heavy. Allan had left her in the cabin and again when he had pushed her away, before she offered to play his whore.

Talia rested in his arms, she told herself to keep quiet to just tell him to send her away, before it was to late. But, she admitted finally to herself. She was weak, something inside her hungered for this man, like it hadn't for any other. Just for a brief moment in time she wanted to be with him, wanted to learn his body and he learn hers. He had rejected her so many times, how could she put herself out there one more time. It was an internal struggle with her heart and her mind. Her mind screamed at her to not say anything, to just remain mute and go to Alleutia and stay there, begin whatever new life she could. The soul of her body, her heart... it cried out to her to risk it all, one more time.

Putting her head back to his shoulder, she closed her eyes, tears no longer fell, as she whispered to him, "Allan... I will not lie. You drive me to anger. You make me say and do foolish things. You have gone from kind to cruel and I can't continue this way. I don't know why after all these things that my body aches for more. I don't understand, that after all the things that have taken place, I continue to come back for more rejection and pain. You are like a heady wine, addicted and filling. I crave you, just like a man craves the ale after a hard battle or the woman after a long night of drinking. What do you want from me Allan... I can not fight you any longer."

 

[Suave Intent]

Cradling Talia’s small frame tightly against his own, Allan felt a mixture of sympathy and guilt for the princess’ broken spirit. His words hadn’t been designed to bite, but their sting was clearly evident in the way she pressed her body close. Then she spoke to him, her fear and confusion now exposed as the whispered words drifted faintly over his shoulder. Truth be told, Allan’s desire for Talia matched her own; however, he refused to engage those lustful desires for fear of causing the girl more pain than had already been inflicted. If she thought the pain of rejection was this great, than she had no idea how much more the pain of abandonment was.

Continuing to stroke her back while contemplating deeply to himself, the silence was finally broken as he spoke in carefully chosen words. He knew that agony of rejection still lingered fresh on her mind, but he would have to do so again in order to protect her from a greater pain that, in her youth, she could not possibly understand. The words and tone of voice he chose were much kinder than she had imagined him capable of, and the warmth of his speech washed over her comfortingly. “The only intentions I’ve ever had regarding you are for your protection, Talia. It’s not that I do not care for you…it’s just that this place, this atmosphere…it does not suit you. When I say for you to leave, I am not casting you out…I am making sure that you are safe so that you can continue to grow and thrive.”

At those words, Talia was forced to look up and meet Allan’s gaze. In his eyes there was no shadow of doubt, no deceit, not even humor; in his penetrating stare there was only sincerity and understanding, compassion clouded within azure depths. Overwhelmed by the unspoken feelings that lay dormant in his eyes, the princess fully relaxed herself within his grip and fell fully into his powerful arms. A smile, probably the first one that Allan had let slip since his time in the cabin, slowly crept onto his lips as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss upon Talia’s brow, her eyes thanking him silently before she fell into sleep’s enticing embrace.

“Tomorrow…” the word whispered silently under his breath, as well as the next few that followed, “tomorrow you will finally be rid of this monster that has caused you nothing but pain. I’m truly sorry that I could not be the person that you had thought I was, but I pray that you find the person who makes your heart and spirit complete.” It was a selfish desire, but one that Allan meant with all his heart. It was a yearning that he had for every mother, child, and widow whose pain he was responsible for, for the burden of their loss weighed down heavily against his own heart.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Talia felt herself startled awake. Allan was holding her, his body bent, as if he were about to lie her on his bed. A questioning glance ran across her face, soon however she remembered his words. She had misunderstood, he wasn't attracted to her, she was to leave his side, once more alone. He still saw her as a young girl, not as a woman. Talia's emotions had been put through more chaos in the past year then any other time in her life.

When Allan rested her on the bed, she didn't fight him. She knew that she didn't want to sleep in his bed, but she also knew he wouldn't allow her to sleep on the ground with nothing but her breeches, boots and robe to keep her warm. Turning her head and body to the wall, she whispered to him, "Whatever you want Allan. I'll go where you send me. I'll not bother or pester you. I'm no longer offering myself to you. I'll take your papers that grant me save passage and a safe life in Alleutia, perhaps in time, our paths will cross. If not... know that I no longer harbor any feelings for you. You will be like my mother, and my friend Calab and all the ones that I have... just... let me rest, I'll fight no more."

Closing her eyes, no tears fell, as her heart heavy, and her body and mind weak from battles not only physical, but mental finally consumed her and she fell asleep. A sleep so deep that she didn't stir, when she felt him climb in behind her.