sing me

Preston shrugged at her reply. “You are too trusting, but I’m glad of it as of this moment.” He indicated towards the fireplace. “Would you like to sit by the fire and share stories? I would understand if you wished to turn in for the night, but I thought I would distract you from the nightmarish men back in that alley.” He smiled sheepishly at her. “I promise my stories are not as gruesome as the last.”

She opened her mouth to protest his assessment of her, but the banging on the wall beside her made her jump, her eyes wide as screams rang out through the air. She knew not those who resided around her, and it only made her think back to the men yelling at her in the alley, trying to rob her of what little coin she possessed. At his invitation, she slid off the bed and moved to sit beside him, her eyes searching the walls, as if expecting a ghost to appear through them at any moment.

“Once, one of my men dared to defile a woman. When I heard of the news, I had him begging for mercy at my feet. Before the sun settled, I made sure he had no hands to defile another human being with, ever again.” He turned to her, his eyes gentle. “It is how it is done in the North. Usually much worse, but I spared his life.” He meant the story to be reflective of his honor, but he realized too late how violent the story was.

Her breath caught as he began his story, her eyes widening with fear as it grew darker and darker. She cleared her throat and pushed a brief smile, trying not to let him know how frightening the story truly was. (Was he always like that? She knew justice must be served, but she found it hard to believe that he could be the one to serve it.)

“No problem,” he muttered. He gave her a cautious glance, most of his previous warmth dissipating. He had given her his name, although only the first one. “I actually did. It’s Hayden, though. Hayden Battaglia. But I’m guessing that’s not really what you wanted to know.” Ex-noble or not, it seemed she was as obsessed with bastards as the rest of ‘em.

“What I wanted to know, Mr. Battaglia, was the name of someone who appeared to be interested in my well-being so I could thank them,” she said sharply. “Former noble or not, I still believe in giving someone the proper respect they deserve.” She glanced down at her basket. “Now, if you would excuse me, I have a touch more shopping to do. I thank you for your concern, Mr. Battaglia. Good day to you,” she said before turning on her heel and walking away from him. She could no longer handle his ever-changing personality--just when she thought he was behaving like a normal person, he turned on her again.

normal-people-are-weird:

Preston idly rubbed his wrists as he waited for the girl to change into more comfortable wear. He unbuckled his sword belt and laid the weapon on a chair near the door. He could still feel the dagger in his boot, digging into his calves. He was never unarmed, although he was one of the better hand-to-hand combatants.

She nodded quickly to him, her tongue idly tracing her lips as she politely glanced away from him; taking off one’s armor wasn’t exactly the same as changing clothes, but she wanted to show him the same courtesy he had show her, no matter how small. Arms still folded over her chest, she smiled gently at him once he’d finished.

“Everyone’s misfortunes are the worst to themselves, but objectively… They didn’t leave a too scarring sensation on me.”

“I am glad to hear it,” she said, smiling over at the woman beside her. “I can’t believe I’ve forgotten already, but where were you headed?” she asked, laughing out of embarrassment.

“Yeah, well. No problem,” Hayden said awkwardly. He nodded at her basket with… things. “You need any help with that?”

Aria glanced down at the basket in her hands before shaking her head. “No, I think I’m alright, thank you,” she replied, unable to stop the slight bob of her head. Trying to recover, she glanced him up and down. “You never told me your name.”

He supposed it was foolishness to believe such peace would last. The scars of Zion’s reign ( of Antony’s reign, of every Vitello who had come before him… ) still lingered in the Realm, and the proof awaited outside their walls. Exhaustion flowed as strongly in his veins as blood, and he felt as if he was suffocating beneath the weight of it all. A plan… That was what he needed — to plan, to continue onward, to do what was best for the good of the kingdom. They had their army, but did he really want this to end in war? Was it the Keep’s cosmic fate to continue in bloodshed? He tried to think, but his thoughts crashed together in incoherent uncertainty. Realizing he had been ignoring the newcomer in the hall, he nodded toward them. “I apologize for the wait. Did you wish to speak to me?”

Aria had been plucked from her job at the inn by a pair of knights, hardly given enough time to change into her best dress (which wasn’t much better than the one she’d been working in) before she left her boss staring open-mouthed after her. Led by her sentries, she wound through the halls of the Keep, unable to hide the amazement in her eyes at the grandeur of the Keep.

He slowly turned back around to face her and shrugged. “It’s just that this city’s got enough miserable people without adding another one to the list.”

It was a surprisingly touching statement from someone who had been so rude before. Her expression did not soften but her voice did. “I thank you for your concern,” she replied, loosening her grip on her basket.

“Huh. Well, that’s alright then, I s’ppose.” She could’ve been doing worse, anyway. Hayden awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “Guess I’ll leave you to your business then.”

She eyed him for a moment. “Why were you concerned if I’d found a place?” she asked, unable to keep the curious question to herself.

“I figured,” Hayden said dully. His mouth twisted. It was long-past the time to be feeling guilty over this, he told himself. But when the hell had that stopped him before? “You doing alright for yourself? Have you got a place to stay?”

She lifted her chin defiantly, her arms tightening around herself. “I have,” she said. It wasn’t much, and it definitely wasn’t the safest of places, but she knew she could have done worse for herself. “It took some time, but yes, I have a job at an inn and I live in one of his rooms.”

Aria smiled up at him, a little breathless. “Well, perhaps you can’t be called ‘King,’ but kind certainly applies--and I won’t hear you disagree with me again,” she said, a light smile on her lips to match the teasing tone to her voice. She looked down at the basket in her arms to make sure nothing had spilled out in the run in.

“A bit of adventure-seeking, I suppose,” she replied lightly. Sharon didn’t know where they were heading until they were halfway across the ocean, a longer journey cross-waters than she’d enjoyed before. Honestly, though, she’d rather not suffer through it again. “I came from the other side of the world, many days across the sea. Westedell was a city I’d only read and heard of before. Quite interesting to see how it stands.” She paused, then smiled, “The whispers proved more true.”

Aria’s eyes lit up when she started talking about her travels. “You’re from another land? Are you a sailor? Is this the furthest you’ve ever traveled? What’s it like on a ship?” she asked, so excited she could hardly contain herself.