@Draconian ------------------
"I've made my decision."
"But your majesty-" Zannrick began, such defense in his tone towards the man like none he'd ever shown before. "I do not think it's wise to marry so little below your station- just for.. for appearance. Just to.. to
appease."The Grand Duke had been sitting at his desk, a small pair of spectacles resting at the bridge of his nose. He complained of head aches as he reach at such an hour, and eventually caved to the idea of using a pair of glasses. He turned towards Zannrick. He knew the man over half his life, and trusted his own life within the man's hand. He had been raised practically from birth, shaped into the perfect body guard for Allerian nobility- and the perfect, lethal weapon for a king. He always held Zannrick's words with the greatest regard, the highest esteem- and he knew the man far deeper than he ought...
So he knew this was a long time coming. When he made the mistake over a year ago and bed the mysterious woman after the storm....
It was just that, or so he thought- a moment of passion after a storm. But it had become so much more complicated, especially after the passing of his wife...
Perhaps it had been the right moment? Perhaps fate was just meant to be... but it couldn't be denied between the pair that Hope was already his son, and the child- though young as he was, was already a growing figure among the population as a sign of Hope-...
Of Peace. For that fateful day in the church when the child had come... He hadn't realized such consequences could rise.
Calent shook his head and sighed, tired. The flickering candle light illuminated the scars and creases from his growing age- even more evident at his recent shaving, his beard now cut short and sharp.
"Times are changing, Zannrick," his voice pressed, authority behind it- but he still felt Zannrick's resolve. The other man growled.
"If anything, a show of good will towards your enemy would mean to marry
his mage of a sister, unify the two warring houses- where at least the child would be of pure noble blood! This- this proposal.. to play off of the people's emotions because of some
child-"Calent stood up suddenly, and Zannrick had his mouth open to speak, but closed his mouth, baring teeth.
"We've discussed this, Zannrick," his green eyes were sharp as the men's gazes bore into one another like two heated knives. The sensation evoked from the pair of them was palpable in the air. "And I have thought of this a great deal. With the dying funds... the will of the church... and the rise for answers..."
"Think, my lord. Think before you make such a heinous mistake! Do you dare make yourself so weak as to bow not only below your station, but to your rank superior throughout the land?"
Calent cut him a look, but said nothing, turning from him as he paced over by a nearby wall, a colored tapestry bedecking it with armored men riding atop white horses- a famous march into battle.
"I've made my decision," came his firm reply, back to Zannrick, eyes hard upon the wall.
"Then you have doomed your reign, Grand Duke," the white haired man replied, words chilling, promising of a poisoned fate to come.
Calent closed his eyes, sighing.
"My stance has no waned over my thoughts on the laws, Zannrick.." he said finally, turning to finally look at the other man again, whose face was now red. Zannrick was beyond livid, but he held himself straight and at attention- the perfect soldier.
The perfect mold. He knew despite his displeasure, this man would protect him and his legacy at all costs...
Even if it went against all he stood for. That much he knew- and would never question it...
Especially not after... the night with Medina...
And when he watched her.. helped her...
and the woman lost her child.
"The announcement will be made on Sunday. We're penning a letter to Serendipity-"
"Serendipity!?" Zannrick's voice grew with alarm. Calent seemed unphased.
"There will be peace talks. And I will bring my new adopted child and bride. There, in unbiased lands, I will speak with Duke Harmond directly and we will go over with the queen our plans to unify the country once more."
Zannrick's eyes were positively flaring now- and if that blue color could cut- the world would have burned.
After a time, he finally found the words.
"Peace talks."
"Yes."
"With... The Queen."
"Yes."
"In Serendipity."
"And you will go, as you always have, at my side, as you always will be."
Zannrick tensed, nearly turning away from such a sentiment and swallowed down so much hate, so much venom that he could have breathed
steam.After a long moment of silence, with no motion except from the flickering candles and torch lights... he finally said, "Very well. Let me know when you wish to prepare."
The man remained at attention, eyes boring into Calent but aside from rage- the other seemed almost.. unreadable. After a time of studying him, he gave a slow nod.
"You may retire for the night. I will call for you again in the morning. You are dismissed for the rest of the day to break."
"Yes, your highness."
Zannrick couldn't even remember how he had gotten out of the room, or when he had entered down the stairwell, or how he had gotten to the top- to a lonely spot far, far away from the hustle and bustle within the palace....
And with a shout, he began to slam his armored fist into the wall over and over and over again, until finally he dropped to the floor in a heap, crying out in pure rage as he held onto his bleeding and broken hand.
What the fuck had become of his world? What had the Grand Duke just done?
It wasn't unusual for Medina to collect a book about something that was a fleeting interest she saw on one of the shelves and go somewhere that wasn't a bedroom with a lot of maid and servant traffic. Exploring the palace was a past time she'd acquired while Hope was being taken care of by keepers and nannies. Already his education was starting and Medina felt more like an overnight babysitter when she did have her child.
Sometimes she'd day dream of what it was like being somewhere simple again, just her and Hope. He'd probably be much less socialized, Medina speculated, holding the book while she walked. Then she heard the thumping, sounding far off and echo-y. A frown and she turned her head, tilting it to listen and to turn around and follow.
The area wasn't totally unfamiliar, having probably wandered to it a time or two to have some privacy and read. Medina held the book to her chest when she wandered by and started to climb the steps, the thumping turning into a cry of rage and still she slowly ascended. Medina wasn't sure if it was unsafe, so she held the book to her chest and poked her head around the opening to the room.
"Zannrick?" Medina would recognize that head of pale hair anywhere, her voice was quiet and when she saw his hand the book was dropped and she rushed over and was on her knees, hand placed on his back in an attempt to sooth "Oh no, what's happened?! Are you going to be okay?" Medina was prepared to be pushed away, yelled at. Blamed. Still her desire to help was overwhelming.
And it a rush, she was thrown to the wall as if by a savage animal- his face just inches from her's, blue eyes wild as the night, and hair an insane, pale mess about his face, sweat soaked and splattered with seeping blood. Both his hands held her in firm, clenched fists, her back to to the wall, his teeth bared. He was seething.
It was her. Of all the Ansgar's be damned maids and trollops in the palace, it had to be the one wench he despised above all else- perhaps loathed more than any mage in all the land- even the blasted Duke from Turgall who was their enemy!
He shook her, roaring in her face.
The blood drained from her face and when she was slammed against the wall, the book flung to the far side of the room and momentarily forgotten. Medina gasped loudly and moved her hands to grab Zannrick's wrists. Furious. He was absolutely furious.
Usually he was just angry but now he was absolutely furious. "I won't be intimidated," which was a little bit of a lie, her heart was pounding and her breath quickened in her panic. Hands around his wrists, she slowly moved one hand down to his arm to hold his shoulder. "I can leave if you let me go. Or we can talk. Or something. I only want to help, you know."
And that's when he threw her, bodily to the floor.
And he laughed, a wretched, mocking sound.
"I would rather die."
He was absolutely seeing red. And it almost seemed as if he might strike her.
With a grunt, Medina caught herself on her hands and knees. The impact stung more than her flesh, it hurt deep down, too. Every branch of friendship she tried to extend was slapped away viciously.
"Very well, It's your grave," Were her only words, Medina got up from the ground in a flurry of skirts and loose long hair, face flushed from anger. Medina practically ran to a maid to inquire about where Calent was, then with the information she did run to him.
The door of the room he was in was rudely interrupted by her, our of breath and flushed. "Cale!" Medina rubbed her hands off on the sides of her dress, the fall didn't make her bleed but the stinging was lingering, "your... Dog Zannrick is having a fit in a tower and..." Medina remembered herself. Remembered she wasn't at home. Remembered that this was the Grand Duke and she shouldn't be so informal. Right now.
"It's not my place to know..." Medina cleared her throat and let out a slow breath, "Is everything okay?"
Surprised Medina arrived so suddenly in his chambers had him frowning. He had been mostly through penning his letter to the Queen and had turned from his desk when she entered.
Ah, so she had run into Zannrick. This made his frown deepen.
"Have you spoken to him?" He asked, seeming to dismiss her question.
"Sort of," Medina sighed, head tilting to the side and crossing her arms over her chest, "He threw me around, almost struck me and would rather die than accept my help." Her eyes caught his letter and she looked at him, taking a few steps away.
"I'm sorry for interrupting, I was just..." Was she worried? "Concerned... For Zannrick. He seemed..." Medina frowned, "afraid?" she nodded towards his letter, "I can come back later, since you're busy."
Calent stood and shook his head. "It's best you stay. Please.. sit.." he motioned towards a settee and closed the door so they had more privacy.
He wasn't surprised at the news of Zannrick's reaction, but he'd trust the man would swallow it down and due his duty.
"You and I have much to discuss. "
Much to discuss?
Medina frowned and took a seat, pulling her hair over her shoulder and playing with the ends nervously. There were a few situations she could think of, most of them involved her leaving - which she wasn't exactly angry about. "Do we?" Medina sighed and dropped her hair, drawing her fingers over her red palms, still aching from when she'd hit the ground, "I'm all ears."
Calent grew silent as he watched her. He felt guilty to spring it on her now of all times, but that couldn't be helped.
He approached her and studied her before speaking.
"There will be peace talks proposed between Duke Harmond and myself. The meeting will be held on neutral ground.. in Serendipity. "
Medina's eyebrows shot up and she blinked owlishly before tilting her head.
"Serendipity? I've heard Arca is lovely," she gave a tense smile and looked down, chewing on her lip now before taking a breath, "It's good you'll be having peace talks. That's a very big step."
A sigh and she started to play with her finger tips, looking down at her lap, "I imagine you'll be gone long time?"
"I'm writing to the Queen. We're hoping to have a response by the end of the month." Which meant...
Calent hesitated.
"And there are a few other matters I'd like to have established before the peace talks."
He studied her for a moment, saying nothing for a time.
"I'd like to talk about Hope."
Golden eyes shot up and she met Calents, a suspicious look in her eyes.
"What about Hope?" Her voice was hesitant and already, moments after hearing him she was glancing at the door, pondering on escape options. "You're not taking him away from me, are you?"
Calent turned away. Did she really think of him in such a light? To simply steal a child from its mother....
But wasn't he just that? A tyrant? A monster? The spear head of this war that tainted the land with the blood of many?
"Why would you presume so?" He asked quietly, still staring distantly across the room.
Medina stood up and moved a hand to rest on Calents shoulder, her voice soft, "Because, this is all feeling like you're about to give me some very bad news and that was the worst bit of news I could think of." Her hand gave a squeeze before she moved her hand to catch his, taking solace in the small bit of contact.
"If it isn't that, what is it about Hope that you need to speak about, Calent." Her voice was firm and she brought her hand up to hold one of his between both of hers.
Calent frowned and thought back to his proposal. Taking Hope away....
How strange a way to word it.
He looked down at her, then glanced away in thought- an idle hand stroking at her hair.
"He's... become a political figure for being so young. The events around his birth... even the church has seen some waves declaring the child some destined Saint in these dark times."
Medina made a face and found his neck very fascinating. While Medina wasn't religious in the way many Connlaothians were, she only judged the idea of her child being a saint to the degree that he was a baby. There was comfort found when he stroked her hair and she brought his hand up and moved closer, going to his side to curl her arm around his and rest her head on his shoulder.
"Yes, I know. I apologized for that, I'm sure." Medina sighed and closed her eyes, "You can tell me what's going all in one breath, I can take it."
Calent stared down into her hair, his stroking stopping.
"Hope would be a good heir.." he began, words slow, as if to test the waters. "Many fear I've lost touch with my people.. what Ansgar truly wished of it's people." It made sense.. most of the soldiers were hardly nobles. No.. the nobility had to stay back and dictate their orders.
He sighed.
"A marriage proposal should be easier than this," he seemed to mutter before moving to turn her, a finger lifting her chin to look at him.
"They say I've been unmarried for too long. " He could see a look in her eyes, knew the confusion, and so many other emotions, would be there.
"Medina.. would you fill the void and take up the role by my side... to give the people a Grand Duchess they can see?"
Grand Duchess?
Medina felt dread fill her and she let her head be lifted to look up at Calent. A frown and she blinked a few times while she processed. Felt her heart thump and the sound of it drown our everything else.
"Me?" Her voice was soft and she licked her lips, eyes concerned. "I can see why Zannrick was so angry now," it came out as a breath and it was Medina's turn to look away and stare out into the distance. She chewed on her lower lip and pressed a hand to her stomach.
"Before..." Medina moved away, hand still holding Calents while she mustered up the courage when her chest felt so empty, "before you set that plan in stone... As me as a Grand Duchess..." tears filled her eyes and she let her grip loosen, "I've been lying to you. And I accept... I accept whatever punishment. But I hope you've come to get to know me as... Me."
"I'm..." She swallowed the hard lump in her throat, "I'm..." Medina tried to spit out the words, but they wouldn't come, "I can't ... With a mordecai like Zannrick nearby I can't..." Medina pulled her hands to herself and looked down at them, flexing them like she used to to imbue the water and the cloths at the clinic. "I'm sorry. For lying."
For a long while Calent said nothing, emotions brewing within his eyes before he bowed his head and stepped away.
"You're not the only one with confessions," he said softly. "You're... secret... isn't so much so. I've suspected since the night we met. It.. I...." he frowned, uncertain how to phrase it. "It's why I've kept Zannrick near you. To be certain."
He lifted his gaze, studying her.
"You're a healer, aren't you."
Medina felt her heart jump up into her throat and her hands fell to her sides, eyes wide and she looked over her shoulder. "I..." Medina turned around, holding her hands to her stomach and glancing down and away, "I am." It took effort not to cry in fear or relief or something.
"You knew?" Medina moved forward, reaching a hand out as if to take Calents hand but pulling it away, "But you.." she shook her head, confused, "You're supposed to hate me."
Calent frowned. Her accuasations weren't wrong, but...
"You're the mother of my child. Your... curse of magic is a blessing from Ansgar. I can't help but think fate somehow put you in my path. To remind me why the laws had been the way they were written. My time and efforts to declare change, however, were justified. Those with magics had become too corrupt by what they possess. The former Grand Duke's assassination was only proof of it. The reaction.. this war against mages.. it was inevitable. If it were not me spearheading the voice of outrage , to quell those who would strike down order and ignore the laws... another woukd have done the same. "
"I .. will always believe in my restrictions, but I think this nation has suffered enough. Perhaps the years have worn me down to decide on peace talks.. and to marry.. but my burden is to these people. They look to me to lead and if my fellow Duke's are beginning to sympathize with my enemy... then perhaps it's past time I confront the why."
Medina pressed her hand over her abdomen when he mentioned that she was the mother of his child. His son. The son no one knew was his - though she could only assume some suspected. While he spoke, she looked down at her hands, her magic stifled by the proximity of the mordecai on the grounds.
With hesitation she reached out and took Calents hand, holding his fingers and moving to stand closer. The words were stuck in her throat when she opened her mouth and Medina moved closer, pressing her hand to Calents cheek and brushed her thumb under his eye. The politics were above her head - Medina was an educated woman but... In medicine. Of course her opinions of the war were important but all she wanted, all she had ever wanted, was to live in peace. To wake up not afraid to exist.
"Do you love me?" She finally whispered, afraid for the answer.
The silence was shared as he looked into her eyes. His own throat tightened as he considered her question.
"Does it matter?" He found himself asking. "My wife is dead, the war is choking my country and you.." he studied her, knowing this wasn't the answer she sought. "Have already done something to my heart. Perhaps it's love.. or simply just duty. But it's hard to deny this is where we must place our faith."
Does it matter.
Medina looked away immediately, sucked in a breath and let her head turn down a little bit. His words were wind in the trees to her ears and she felt like her insides had ceased to exist, she felt so empty. It wasn't a surprise though, and she didn't know why she had expected anything otherwise. Calent wasn't exactly emotionally available. Medina was convenient. She was everything he needed to look like he was changed. Like he'd learned from the war. A mage. Not fully Connlaothian. A commoner.
Medina removed her hands and let them fall to her sides, willing herself to remain stoic, even though she could feel her pulse in her throat. "I... See." She looked up again, a small smile not reaching her eyes when she tried to meet his gaze, "Very well then. I will do my duty as a citizen of Connlaoth. I understand my place in this."
Calent frowned. He could sense her emotions, churning from his confession. But ought he to lie to her? Love.. wasn't something he could afford. There was something there, true, but his heart iced over long ago.
"You don't have to answer now," he told her, voice carrying over the stillness of the room.
"What I'm asking you is a lot and would subject you to to life of the high nobility... the good.. and the bad."
It was then she thought of Hope. Already he was growing up in the confines of the palace, wet nurses and maids. Everything he could have ever wanted or wished for was his. While he wasn't officially the Grand Duke's son, he was a special child and she pressed her hands to her abdomen again before turning to the side to look across the room, golden eyes taking in the splendor.
She'd been in here many times.
"I do," she said, if she didn't... Who else was there? Maybe Medina could be a positive influence. "I'm already here. I'm intelligent. I'm well read. I'm not a noble viper like some of the women here, but I suppose I could learn that trait as they do. I'd rather it be me at your side than... Someone with machinations. You know me, my deepest secrets." Medina paused and laced her fingers together and held them down in front of her while she thought of what else to say.
"Hopefully, even if you can't love me, you can trust me." Medina made a face then, like she was slightly pained, "Please tell me you can at least trust me and that I can trust you, Calent."
It seemed she had given it some thought.. likely due to her current status already at the castle. Truthfully, he'd never consider such an option.. had it not seemed his world was begging for it.
Hope.. had raised the spirits if those who had been lacking on faith. And now..?
Did he trust her?
He held his frown and simply looked into her eyes.
"As much as any man can for a wife."
But why was it he hesitated so? Had he expected rejection? Truly? The woman could never find a better offer in all her days.
Yet still....
A part of him could not help to believe the whole ordeal of signing a treaty and making compromises for the war...marrying below his station...
Yes, part of him could not help but feel the resentment of defeat.
It was all wrong.
Medina unlaced her fingers and took Calents hands in hers, as if to reassure him. She sensed his hesitation. It wasn't a lie he spoke, but it was a non-answer. How much did a man trust his wife?
Her own parents had loved and trusted one another, but they had married for love instead of titles and wealth. It had been all she had wanted before that had been snatched away from her.
"Maybe we can make a deal," She caressed his fingers with her thumb and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, "All your answers have been awful and not at all what I've been wanting or looking for in a husband. I want him to trust and love me and while I've grown very fond of you..." Medina shook her head and pulled a tight face, "But I don't want to be in a loveless marriage. That's my only thing I have as a commoner that nobility doesn't get the chance for, right? A partner I can love? Can we..." It pained her to say this, "make a timeline? A few years? I've already been held captive here, my life on hold." Medina looked down at their hands, "If you can't love me, I don't want to be married to you beyond what purpose I can provide and once this War is resolved there would be no more purpose."
Calent's expression was cool as the shadows, green eyes revealing little. But her affectionate gestures were only ghosted in return by him, reflexively.
"This arrangement does not come with a clause or debate," he told her sternly, eyes never leaving hers. He was serious.
"A Grand Duke will not abandon his wife."
Medina tilted her head, giving it a little shake as if confused.
"You'd be wed to a woman you don't love? You are more than a title and duty," she said, her voice soft, "You deserve happiness, too. You know that, don't you?"
Despite the debate on the topic, his eyes did not yield;- nor did his expression give much.
"I have bound myself to the country. My position isn't just a name, a title nor influence... but is a purpose. To rule a whole kingdom... chosen by rights.. a victor of peers.."
He shook his head.
"I am the leader of these people, a keeper of this nation- and I aim to carry out the will of God. "
Could she be content with that?
Medina thought of her son. He'd likely get an education. But what if the worst happened? Her own head and his would be on the chopping block. She took a step closer and held their hands to her chest, pressing the back of Calents hand to her chest so he could maybe feel her heart beating.
"Perhaps you don't know then," she whispered mostly to herself, Medina was slowly resigning herself, "I understand. This is strictly business for you," She moved closer, minimizing the space between them, she'd grown so fond of Calent over the time she'd been here and it stung to realize it was all one-sided. Hurt to realize it was just a well crafted lie.
"Can I kiss you?" Medina whispered, looking up at him, "You may feel little much for me but... I am very fond of you."
Calent's face remained unreadable as she pressed in closer. It almost seemed he might move to cup her face. Instead, he simply told her ,"You would never have birthed Hope if something were not there. "
But when she asked for a kiss, he frowned and took her hand, kissing the back of it before returning his gaze to her.
"I do not deserve such affections."
Especially not after what he just did... what he said to her
A tilt of her head and a sad smile before Medina moved to give Calent a chaste sweet kiss on the lips. "You may believe that but we can agree to disagree," moving away then, she sighed and looked down.
"I'll give you my final answer tomorrow, we can both give it more thought." She chewed on her lower lip in thought, "is that okay?"
There was a moment of silence before Calent dipped his head.
"I understand."
Although he knew such a decision could not be taken lightly, he honestly wasn't sure if this decision was entirely wise. Even Zannrick disagreed, and the man was a born and bred faithful hound.
"Then I shall leave you to be alone this night. "
It would be unfair to try to influence her.. even if he could use a good woman in bed this night.
Medina gave Calents cheek another pat, her chest and head a swirl of emotions. Hurt that he didn't love her, a tightness in her chest that wasn't going to go away anytime soon, she knew.
Giving him another quick gentle kiss, Medina turned around and started to walk away to return to her rooms. To cry into her pillow. To scream into bathwater. At least that was the plan, Medina walked past the area she remembered Zannrick being last and contemplated checking on him.
Instead she continued to walk, her footsteps quiet and soft while she made her way outside. Tracing her fingers along branches and leaves, taking a few moments to admire the flowers. Once Medina had tucked herself in a corner of the garden, she lowered her head and cried.
If her sobbing wasn't too loud and concealing, she may have heard she wasn't alone in the garden. A voice. Anger. It came from somewhere nearby.
But if she didn't notice the other, the other surely noticed her, as the fully plated hound of the Grand Duke stepped into view, eyes red and a bottle of liquor in his hand- a shot glass in the other.
"You." Came his cutting words, eyes wild like a hunted boar. And he came stomping her way and jabbed a finger into her face, accusingly. "Always everywhere you don't belong like a God damn spider. "
He hadn't noticed her tears, the red swollen face from crying at first- but maybe he was too drunk to care. She, on the other hand, had no where to hide from the alcohol that saturated his breath.
Medina gasped loudly and jerked away when she heard someone. Tears kept trailing down her cheeks and she did try to stifle them when Zannrick interrupted her solitude.
"You!" She shouted back, hands moving to wipe her face, "you're always in the shadows, stalking like some kind of rat!" Medina pulled away from him, golden eyes bright with humiliation and anger.
"Go away, Zannrick, you're drunk and I don't have the patience to deal with you and your temper tantrum right now," Medina snarled, letting herself be angry instead of suppressing it. Then she moved away from his accusatory finger and moved to go past him.
Except a powerfully strong unforgiving hand grabbed onto her wrist, near crushing. He yanked her back in front of him, uncaring if he did her any harm.
"You're a gods damn whore," he roared in her face, yanking her again so they were face to face so she'd see his red, glassy eyed and he.. her tears.
Medina winced, glaring into his drunken gaze before she turned her face away.
"And?" She roared back, tugging at her wrist, thought it was like trying to move her hand from out of a wall. "What exactly are you looking to achieve by yelling at me like you're an angry child, Zannrick." Medina gave her hand another useless tug, "Intimitation?"
"Let me go! I've done nothing to you, so let me leave! Have your drunken temper tantrum here and I'll go somewhere else!" Another tug to get away from him before she glared at him, their inch difference in height making it easy to level her gaze on his own.
"Let you go?!" He growled into her face. His anger seemed to prickle more at her profession of innocence. "You," he continued, words hot as lava. "Are not an innocent here! You seduced the Grand Duke, bewitching him and it is my sole duty to protect him from witches like you."
He threw her to the ground, branding his sword, as he put a boot at her throat and a blade to her face.
"You should never have come here." His growl bubbled from deep within his throat, blue eyes feral.
It was no use.
Medina's head hit the ground and she gave a soft exhale of pain, squeezing her eyes shut but they popped open when there was pressure and a sword filled her vision. Zannrick was a mordecai and that meant she had no powers to call upon. Nothing to keep her from being beheaded if he saw fit.
"I didn't want to," she whispered, voice strained, "I don't want any of this, but you never believe me." It was then, under the edge of a sword and on the ground, she didn't cry because of her situation, but the tears began to flow for her lost sense of self. Her lost dream of a future. Her lost life.
"I just wanted to be loved and be happy, and he doesn't love me and no one wants me, I have no purpose, my sister is probably dead, my own son has no need of me," Medina moved her head, eyes red making the bright gold near glow. "So do it," she gave a little wet hiccup, and her eyebrows furrowed into a frown from her place on the ground, "Just end it, Zannrick. Stain the gardens red with my blood and then dump my body in a canal. No one will care and you know it."
That's when he slammed the sword into the ground clean beside her head, roaring defiantly into her face.
"You are not the victim here!" He bellowed. "Steel your tongue and cow your words! They are worthless to me. You are worthless to me and I would let you rot in the bottom of a river if I could!"
He shook, his rage consuming him, his impotence near breaking.
Medina winced when the sword was slammed down, eyes squeezed tight but when she didn't feel herself die she opened them back up. His words rushed into her ears like waves and she looked up at Zannrick from her place on the ground.
"I don't want to be here, damn you!" She yelled at him, "I was taken from my home. my child ripped from me to be raised by nurses and nannies. You're too much of a coward to kill me, is what this is." She hissed, lifting herself up and looking up at him, sneering before she pulled herself to her full height, "I've never sought you out except to befriend you and you've slapped it away again and again, I've never been unkind to you and you've always met it with viciousness and venom. You're sense of self is so fucking fragile just taking a moment to be more than a dog that barks when your master says to shatters you to dust." Medina lifted her chin, expression grim.
"I have nothing left to lose, Zannrick, your screaming is accomplishing little. Maybe you should go to bed and sleep off your booze like a good little puppy."
He picked up his sword, eyes never leaving hers.
He was used to such dogged words. A dog... A hound to the Grand Duke. It was his purpose.. his life's goals. It did not feel like an attack. Until it was.
And then he back handed her.
"And this dog bites," he growled, sheathing his blade as he turned away and stormed down the manicured walk.
He was absolutely fuming, fueled by booze and such hate it was near blinding. But just as he'd nearly made his way from the gardens, a movement of black caught his eye- a flash of metal.
He was on the moving shadow before he even thought the actions, decades of training to protect, to selflessly guard the order and honors of this Ansgarian society. And then as he chased down the assailant, he soon realized who their blades were meant.
Medina took the backhand with as much grace as someone could. Her head whipped to the side and her curtain of long dark hair followed. Still she remained, pondering a sharp moment of wishing that her nails were daggers and she could reach up under his ribcage and pull out his heart.
Still, when she wiped the blood from her mouth and tongued the inside of her cheek where her teeth and ripped flesh she sighed and spat blood on the ground. Mouth wounds healed quickly and if she didn't irritate it, it would be gone in a week. Medina wiped at her eyes before she sighed and rubbed at her neck, sore from being held down.
What a terrible day. What a terrible place.
Medina looked up at the sky for a few moments, pondering on the difficulty of running away. The sound of footsteps caught her attention and she bit back a snarl, he'd just left!
"What do you want now?" She barked, teeth stained red before she turned around to face a being that wasn't Zannrick. "You've come to chastise me, too?" she snapped at the person that she could only assume was a servant, though they were headed to her very quickly.
Blade struck out towards her throat in one single action, which would have hit the targt- but then something strange occurred and the attacker barely missed Medina and threw the dagger across the way- and straight into the back of a maid, who fell onto a heap within the gardens - a baby crying in her arms.
The man continued towards the fallen form- and Zannrick all but blasted after the assassin, blade at the ready , legs pumping lead to get to the man first... lest he get to and kill the Grand Duke's child.
Hope wailed loudly from where the baby lay beneath the maid's crumpled form. And just as the man readied a second blade for the kill, Zannrick's sword burst through his middle. Both men froze on impact before Zannrick kicked the dead body off of his blade.
He was breathing hard and heavy, sweat slicking his skin. Then he moved towards where the child lay crying, pushing the fallen woman off the child before scooping up Hope into his arms
Everything happened faster than Medina could process it. One second she was angry at Zannrick and the taste of blood in her mouth and the next she could only watch as everything ... Happened. Medina wasn't a fighter. She'd never taken combat lessons. She was a healer and she was ashamed to say that she was so frightened she was frozen in place, eyes wide and mouth open - until she heard the shrill cry of her baby.
Zannrick blasted past her and her hands were barely in her skirts to lift them up so she could run before the guard was at the assassin. Medina had a singular focus though and she caught up in time for Zannrick to be kicking the body off his blade. Her hands trembled and she had tears in her eyes, they clutched at her skirts and it was quick and impulsive when she rushed forward to Hope in Zannricks arms.
She didn't grab Hope away, instead taking a moment to inspect the boy and look for any cuts or bruises. Any of his own blood. Of course she was distraught over the death of the maid but... "Oh, thank you," she whimpered out, pressing a hand to Zannricks neck giving his shoulder a squeeze, pressing her forehead to the side of his head for a moment before she slipped her arms around his and her son. "You must be so frightened," she said in a hushed tone, pressing her cheek to Hope's head and holding him tight, her eyes scanning all directions.
"Can you lead us inside? Please?" She whispered, her displease and distaste of Zannrick momentarily gone. Instead, she was grateful for the man, even if he was infuriating.
It all happened in a blur. His actions were reflexive, beat and trained into him since he was at the age he could be trained. He felt.. heavy, after all was said and done- numb to everything. But even as the child cried, it could not bring him back to this reality. No..
something inside him continued to break.
And he- the hound- continued to obey.
He moved to usher Medina inside, Hope in her arms. He moved with a purpose, guiding them protectively through the halls as the poor child wailed in her arms.
Medina didn't know where they were going, the hallway of the building looked like so much of the same. Instinct or impulse had her grab for a door handle and rip it open before going in, shushing Hope as his cries continued, her lips against his temple. Quickly she went to the windows to close the curtains and then moved to a corner where she could see the door, her side to it and the wall to the other side.
Zannrick wasn't totally forgotten, she was hyper aware of her surroundings, but Hope was her focus. The toddler continued to cry, unhurt but sending the stress and anxiety coming from his mother. "You're okay, Mommy's here," she whispered to her baby, starting to hum the lullaby in an attempt to sooth. Still, she looked him over again, fingers running over his clothing and checking for blood that was his. Quickly, she removed his coat and flung it across the room, covered in the killed maids blood.
"Zannrick," Medina said breathlessly, turning to her most disliked hero, "are you okay,too?" Hope had started to calm down now that Medina was stationary and calming down herself, his big pale eyes looking at her while he snuggled in agaisnt her.
Many thoughts went through his head as he stared off, eyes distant. One moment he wanted to kill this woman, so drunk and high on hate. And now? Now he'd kneejerked on reflex- saving both woman And child.
In hind sight, would it be better if both were.. erased? His life surely would be easier yet...
The lingering hatred had Long since been snuffed out. Now all that remained were impulse, the tense muscles, racing heart.. and the fading scent of the mother and her child.
He didn't look at her when she spoke, icy blue eyes remained focused on the door. He hadn't answered. He was fine. He was always fine.
Soon servants and guards came scrambling in. Medina was soon rushed and fussed over and Zannrick gave his report. Unfortunately, the new commotion has Hope wailing again.