He didn't even have to look to realize who was walking his way, taking note of the growing space around him. Turning a scowl towards the man, he made no effort to greet or honor the man's request for he and his sister to leave. Azilon's eyes trailed after the man as he turned his back and sauntered away, maintaining his same contempt expression as he held fast to Aeila's hair.
"
Unfortunately, I can't allow that just yet. This little minx, as you call her, has some apologizing to do. So I think I'll keep a hold of her for a little while longer." Everything about his demeanor shouted that he was unamused by the situation, not at all happy for having been interrupted and certainly not interested in having some Royal Snob poke his nose into his business. Not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of an intimidation stare-down, Azilon turned back to looking at Aeila, though he kept a close watch on Rynek out of the corner of his eye.
The young Drakken had heard stories of the man, but despite everything he knew about the crowned prince, he wasn't going to just let the little sprite out of his possession. He was more than just livid... Azilon was intrigued. Never before had he met someone so small with such audacity as to turn around and strike him the way that she had. No, there was no way he was about to let Rynek or anyone for that matter, take this away from him.
Aeila stayed silent the entire time, her wild eyes locked on Rynek and his command for her to come with him. A part of her realised that he wasn't talking to her but for the most-part, she was terrified. Rynek wouldn't leave her with this monster but the monster was challening Rynek and given what he did on the other Drakken, she was worried for her older brother.
"Please, just let me go, this doesn't have to-""Shut your mouth, Aeila." Rynek had fully turned now, his eyes dark and vicious. His joking attitude was gone entirely - Rynek wasn't just annoyed, he was pissed. No little runt told him what he could and couldn't do; especially not one that relied on dark magic to win.
"If she wronged you then beat her. It is our way. Then, I shall take her." Rynek's stare was deadly as he held out an empty palm. His weapon was placed in it almost instantly before he fixed the sheath to his belt. Standing in silence, the hand on the hilt of his blade said all the Prince wanted to say.
Azilon growled under his breath, slowly turning his head to look at Rynek. He didn't have the patience for this sort of thing, but a challenge was a challenge and this one was pretty clear. Rolling his neck, Azilon turned a vicious glare toward Aeila before releasing his grip on her hair.
"
Be a good girl and don't move. And you might as well make yourself useful while you're here." He hissed, unclasping his cloak and throwing it over Aeila's head. Underneath the garment Azilon had dressed rather lightly, free of anything resembling armour... However attached to the outside of either of his thighs were a pair of twin blades, both freshly sharpened. Shifting his stance, Azilon rested his hands on the hilts of both his weapons, meeting Rynek's gaze full on for the first time.
"
Beating up on something so small and helpless isn't really my thing... It isn't any fun if you don't take your time with it. So I don't really appreciate it when brutes like you interrupt my fun simply because you've already found your entertainment.." Azilon allowed his gaze to shift behind Rynek to the Gemmite bride he had picked out of the group, his head tilted slightly askew.
"
That being said, I can understand your impatience. She's quite... stunning." He smirked before returning his eyes to Rynek.
Aeila felt herself squirm in his grip but thankfully, despite the advise from Rynek, he released her hair and let her fall away. She knew better than to try and run because he was armed but that didn't excuse him from using her as a coathanger; which she didn't appreciate. Red-faced, she clambered to pull his cloak away as she looked up to him. He terrified her but there was a power in him that reared its head when he was angry. It scared her but at the same time, it felt so...
right.
Rynek, at this point, was eyeing his opponent with some interest. Very few men had the guts to even momentarily resist him and even fewer had the bravery to stay adamant in that resistance. This fellow which his little sister got herself embroiled in intrigued him to no-end and even Rynek had to admit that he didn't want to kill the kid. It would be a shame to steal away such a vicious bastard from the world.
"Listen here, shit-for-brains; I am many things but I am not a brute! Yes, I admit, I am occasionally prone to killing and raping but it's not like we're all innocent of that! Anyhow, the little glorified cloakhanger behind you is very important and I would like if she wasn't broken so quickly or I'm just going to have to clean up the mess and the only mess I'll be dealing with is that hot little thing behind me."Sighing, Rynek nonchalantly wandered into the middle of the cleared circle before looking around a little.
"Between you and me, can we get this wrapped up quickly? I'm sure we both have much better things to be doing!" His blade still wasn't drawn at this point.
Azilon's eyes narrowed at Rynek's words, watching him carefully as he stepped into a space cleared of nervous and/or excited onlookers. Both men stood facing each other, weapons in hand but not yet drawn. Each were a powerful unit on their own, but Azilon knew he was outmatched in strength. Crowned brat or not, the Drakken standing before him had earned his place in the world as had many others around them... Still Azilon himself was a stubborn fool with a dangerous notion to fuel him; a desire.
"
Indeed it would seem that we do, so how about you name the terms for our engagement and let's be on our way. We draw this out any longer and we'll miss the banquet entirely." He noted, having realized that the room was emptying considerably now that the reaping was drawing to a close. Off in the distance he could smell the food drawing the parties away with the promise of meat and alcohol.
Rynek chuckled, light-heartedly terrifying as the hiss of steel filled the room.
"Terms of engagement? You're starting to sound like a Geminite now, my friend; perhaps you are suited for our little coat-hanger?" Blade in hand, Rynek casually tilted his head towards his sister before returning it to his opponent.
"If you win, you can have her. If I win... Well, we'll figure that out when it happens."Unclipping his cloak, Rynek tossed it aside. His armour spoke lengths of the warrior. It was already painted with dried blood, mud and charred areas where a fire had licked him. He was considerably more armoured than the other Drakken but he seemed to carry it like it was his very skin he was wearing. War was a bitter thing that Rynek spent a lot of time in.
As if from nowhere, one foot landed square and the next launched his blade into a lighting-fast cleave down at Azilon. The familiar ring of steel meeting steel sounded around the room as his attack was readily blocked. And so, their dance began.
To onlookers, their fight was barely even perceivable. Blades arced like lightning before rebounding on each other and lashing back around at another angle. Both swordsmen seemed equally matched but as the fight edged onwards, experience became the dominating factor as Rynek pressed his opponent further and further. The end lasted only a few seconds but was enough to declare a clear victor. Azilon's blade hit true and escaped Rynek, resulting in a long slash along his cheek that narrowly missed his eye. Gritting his teeth in pain, the Prince did the opposite of what his opponent expected - instead of recoiling back, he fired forward and ducked past him, catching his foot on the way. With a turn, he channeled his powers down through his blade, causing it to glow with a red-hot heat as it slipped up Azilon's spine, his flesh offering little resistance to the blade.
The Prince reflected an almost bored look as he allowed his blade to cool before sheathing it. His opponent had fallen to his knees, his twin blades scattered over the floor. Rynek reached for his cheek and grumbled in annoyance as his hand came back covered in blood.
"You know how long it took making sure this face wasn't touched!? I had perfected the hot prince look then you just give me a grizzly, war-torn look!" Still mumbling his annoyance, he took the fallen fighter by the scruff of his neck and dragged him back to where his sister was waiting with wide and frightened eyes. Dropping him, Azilon collapsed under them as Rynek fixed his sister with a scathing look.
"I should have you whipped for your insolence. But you're not a child anymore and your actions have consequences." Reaching for his belt, Rynek produced a small dagger, wickedly curved for slashing. Aeila took a step back, horror etched into her features.
Growling, he flipped the blade and caught it so the pommel was pointed towards her.
"Your consequence." Staring at him, she barely even had time to process what was happening as her hand naturally reached out and took hold of the cold blade. Swallowing hard, her eyes turned to the defenceless man at her feet. Rynek, in the meantime, had turned away. He no longer cared enough to help her any further.
Finding his way to the edge of the crowd, he took his cloak and used it to wipe away at the blood that had trickled down his throat. Throwing it aside once more, he took Lienna by the arm and dragged her away. Something had changed in him. When he had warned her before, his humour only broke for a few seconds but darkness seemed to hug him like a longing lover. His grip on her was bruising and his steps were long and quick, leaving her to stumble after him willingly or not. Something had annoyed him and it was definitely not the scar which had simply been added to his long list of previous wounds. No, it was something entirely worse than that. He had shown weakness - a dreadful sin in Drakken society. No matter how much he tried, no matter how many voices urged him to murder Azilon, he couldn't do it. In handing the blade to Aeila, he had given the boy mercy when he should have let him bleed out. In truth, he didn't want to kill him. Through that cocky foolishness and dumb courage, Rynek saw himself in the boy and he couldn't summon the will to kill him. He knew it would come back to haunt him but he had every intention to let that thought slip away. Pleasure usually drowned out anger awfully well.
They had barely even turned a corner to a quieter part of the castle when Rynek turned on his new wife. With dark eyes, his rough hands found her hips and pressed her to the nearby wall. Breathing through his nose, it wouldn't have taken much for him to reach up and snap her pretty little neck. He did the opposite though. Holding onto her hips, he dragged her up and pushed her legs around himself. His hungry lips found hers with ease.
The adrenaline of battle fueled his actions as he pulled back, a new yet not unwelcome lust in his eyes.
"My name is Prince Rynek Darion, High General of the Southern Armies, protector of heirs and killer of kings and I have every intention of fucking you here and now unless you offer a viable alternative." His lips dipped, finding her neck and biting in a rough mark of his territory. This would be fun.
Emma
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