Private Tales Caged and Waiting

[Marro Thackett]

The last of the rebels hit the sand with a dull, heavy thud. His body slid to a halt at Marro’s feet. The werewolf stood over him, chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths.

Cuts striped his arms. Blood clung to the dark fur along his jaw. The captured rebels had been given simple weapons, but a pitch fork was still effective.

His eyes were calm, the yellow glow receding into a steady human brown as he forced the beast inside him to grow quiet.

He could have run.
He could always run, if he chose to.

That was the trick. They hoped he would run. It would be grand entertainment for the crowd to have the Wardens bring him down.

A ring of armed guards slowly surrounded him. They inched closer, one man shouting for him to kneel.

Marro looked at them for a long moment, then lowered himself to one knee with deliberate ease, hands behind his head. His expression was almost bored.

He had torn through the poor folk sent to fight with brutal efficiency, yet he always allowed himself to be taken.

The first collar clicked shut around his neck, sigils glowing faintly as they bit into his skin. Marro did not flinch. When the chains were thrown across his shoulders, he did not resist.

His attention drifted to the iron gate where the red coated overseers were barking orders, preparing to march him back into the pens beneath the Ashcroft keep.

They believed they had broken him long ago.

They believed he belonged to them.

If they believed that, then they might be surprised enough when he tried to escape that they could make a break for freedom.

Raniya.

He thought of her as the cart was drawn by a horse out into the sand. He did as he was told and allowed himself to be led into the cage.

 

[Raniya]

"He's worth a lot, that mutt." Came the disgruntled mutterings of the Lord Burnish, Riven. He lounged in his chair, one that was painstakingly crafted and carved to resemble the coat of a wolf. He was human, as all lords were in Ashcroft, but Riven Burnish held a pride that she would not mind seeing break apart.

He angled his head towards her, seated behind and slightly to his right of his proud chair. The Lord's eyes were trained on the wolf Thackett. "Most obedient mutt out of all of them... but nothing compares to your pedigree, Saint."

A smile, a gift to her, but her pale eyes watched her lord and master stare after the wolf being ushered towards the cage.

"They say they keep him away from every other wolf in service to his House, just to keep his blood lust up." Entirely false, but Raniya had the luxury of being the favourite most wolf in the Burnish Kennels. "That way he can turn rabid here..."

The silver haired woman sat on a velvet cushion, large enough for her legs to be supported as they tucked in beside her. She rested on one arm, straight and bearing most of her weight as she too turned her gaze onto the wolf stepping back into the cage.

"Ugh. Of course. Some wolves are great entertainment that way... but that does not always work." Riven drawled, as if he knew a thing or two training such wolves when it was all done by men and women employed by his House. "Blood lust is lost on you, my Saint."

Raniya, she wanted to correct him, but that sort of behaviour would only make things go wrong for her. To be his favourite meant she had freedoms on a tight leash, but it was freedom nonetheless. Instead, she bit her lip to refrain from speaking. My name is Rainya. The name of a Queen.

She had been born of two alphas back home. Had been born into being hunted in Vel Cirak, but was taken as a young pup after Cirakians stormed their Dens. The pack dispersed, too panicked to truly take anything of value. Only... her father wasted time trying to find something. A pendant, the moon of dusk. A family heirloom, and he had enough time to close it around her neck before it was all too late.

The same pendant dangle from a chain the Lord Burnish wore. It was now worn as an emblem of owning a wold of a royal line. Something to boast about. House Burnish is in possession of a Wolf Queen.

 

[Marro Thackett]

The cart rattled over uneven stone as it carried Marro back into the shadowed belly of the Ashcroft keep. The iron cage had become a familiar confine around his body.

The silver collar pressed a constant, biting weight into the skin of his throat. Its sigils a dull throb that anchored him firmly in human form. Blood from the fight matted the dark hair along his jaw and streaked the cuts on his arms, but he sat motionless within the chains.

He felt the weight of eyes upon him as he was taken away. The elite made a pretense of hiding these blood sports, but he could only assume people knew.

Through the bars of the cage, Marro caught the glint of pale eyes watching from the stands. Raniya. The silver-haired wolf sat poised beside Lord Burnish.

He felt a mote of regret for what she had seen. She had watched him tear through the rebels without hesitation, just as she had watched him countless times before.

A group stepped into the path of the cart. A wealthy middle aged woman flanked by staff. The Warden guarding his cage stepped between them and Marro.

Marro knew they would have paid for this.

"Look at him!" she said, fanning herself. "He still has blood all over him!"

She started to walk a slow circle around the cage. The Warden flanked her.

"He still isn't for sale?"

"Not my place to say ma'am."

"Could he be made safe?" she asked.

"Ma'am?"

"His claws and teeth. If I were to borrow him."

The Warden sighed.

"No Mutt can ever come close without risk ma'am."

The conversation continued for a little while. She wanted to get close to the killer. There was little Marro could do to deter her interest, as sickening as it was.

Eventually they continued on.

The cart lurched to a halt in the dim undercroft and the guards hauled open the gate with a grinding screech of metal.

Marro rose to his feet with slowly, allowing the chains to drag across the floor. He stepped out of the cage as ordered.

"That was awkward," Marro said to the Warden. "Guess we both had shit jobs today."

"Quiet."

Marro was led on to his room. He had been fighting long enough that he got better than a cage, but not by much.

 

[Raniya]

"Up." Burnish stood and did not spare her a glance as he adjusted the cuffs. "Come along. Time to play politics." He sighed.

Raniya got up, slowly, but she had learned that is how Riven liked her to act. To be the queen she never got to be. Her movements were poised and graceful, and the silver one stood still as she waited for further instruction.

Burnish turned around and gave her a once over. "I want to see him. Come with me. Let them see what it means to have the best of the best of wolf bloodlines."

And she would follow. She had spent years to earn this place and she was not about to let it all fall away because of her own personal feelings. Raniya was useful. Her bloodline had the talent of being harbingers of death, of hearing changes in the ley lines and currents of the world that would determine the decline of one's life. In a place like Ashcroft, one learned how to make peace with death. She spent her first year crying, scared of all the screams she heard before and of the deaths ever happened. It was a madness she had to endure.

She had used to hate Marro for it. After all, he was one of the favourites and deadliest of wolves. He had always been relentless and showed no mercy. His blood lust had the rest of the spectators frothing at the mouth for more.

One night, Raniya had crossed paths with him. She was not allowed to drink, being employed by House Burnish had forbidden such a luxury, but the night she confronted Marro, Raniya held a small hope.

Perhaps he could end my suffering.

"You wish to see the mutt?" Her voice carried the appropriate amount of loathing. Burnish knew she hated coming here, to be surrounded by so much, but this was his way of telling her he did not care about what made her happy.

"Yes." Came the answer, and the Lord Riven Burnish clapped his hands to signal her to follow him down the short flight of stairs and towards where they kept the wolves close to the action without being in the actual arena. "I came into good money, why should I not try to inquire about his price? His master may even try to waste my time and suggest I give a bitch to breed with him... but any mutt can be a brute." His blue eyes pierced into her own pale grey hues. "You are of an old and royal bloodline. If I want legacy, I have to make choices to see it through."

Raniya held her tongue. She could feel his heart quicken in pace. Fuck, he was excited about that idea. Breeding for warriors was actually not so uncommon, but Raniya knew of every wolf in Ashcroft and knew her Lord too well over the years of growing up alongside him. "The brute's name is Thackett. He is obedient, sir, but diligent to a fault. Such cooperation alone would fetch him a higher price..."

They had reached the hall, several feet away from Marro still within his cage. Her eyes narrowed. Let them all think it was out of hate, that she despised the idea of being seen so close to someone not of her calibre of breeding.

She hated seeing him caged. Raniya knew he would listen and obey without one, because that is what they both had to do in order to survive this.

"Stay." Burnish muttered, not paying any attention to her as he walked on ahead. He kept his distance, but as he paced about the cage, Raniya was able to see the disgruntled expression on his face. "Good build on him. Has seen plenty of fights, I see..." The Lord's face did not improve. His scowl deepened, and Raniya was sure he was here to simply be critical.

"What doe he have that the others do not?" Riven asked a handler walking by.

 

[Marro Thackett]

The handler, a thick-necked man with a face like old leather, gave a snort that might have been a laugh.

“Strength and cunning, m'lord. And the fact he comes back to the cage every time without us having to chase him down. Most of ‘em still dream of the woods. This one is smart enough to outfight bigger mutts and come back to the cage."

Marro remained seated on the low bench inside the iron bars, elbows resting on his knees, chains pooled between his boots. He had felt a flutter of excitement and then panic at the sight of Raniya. His blood was still up from fighting beneath the moonlight. He had brought himself back under control quickly.

Dried blood still streaked his forearms and clung in dark patches to his torn shirt. He did not rise when Burnish approached; he had not been told to.

Instead he lifted his head just enough for those sharp blue eyes to settle on the lord pacing in front of him.

When Burnish’s gaze slid past the handler and landed on him, Marro allowed the corner of his mouth to curl. The expression was something between a smile and a snarl. It was just enough so that the man who treated Raniya so badly whilst demanding praise for it could see his teeth.

“Ask him yourself what he has,” Marro said.

"Not that smart then," Burnish said dismissively.

"Yeah, got a mouth on him."

The handler’s hand twitched toward the prod at his belt, but Burnish lifted two fingers and the man froze.

The lord stepped closer to the bars, close enough that Marro could smell the wine and clove on his breath.

 

[Raniya]

"Master..." Raniya's voice was quiet, an attempt of worry, but a warning laced in that one word. Her eyes watched Burnish, for it was not the caged wolf she was worried about. Her master was drunk, and always thirsty for more power. Riven stared at the bloodied beast, stared until he too laughed. It rung out through the area, bounced off walls and heard back in echoes.

"Oh, I like him. Strong, loyal... so fucking obedient." His eyes turned back to find his own favourite wolf. Stared at Raniya for a moment. "Too bad. He is a mutt, is he not? No way of telling what bloodline temperament he is born from. Could stain your bloodline and your pups..."

Raniya froze. She always did whenever he spoke of breeding stronger bloodlines. Her eyes flicked to Marro, as if waiting for him to react hearing of that idea.

The night she bared her neck to him and begged he end her misery and suffering, Raniya knew he was different. He had refused, had walked away, but she saw how his eyes changed. They were softer. Heavier. Over time, his eyes stopped holding on to the crushing weight Ashcroft had done to him, only when he looked to her.

"You wanted to inquire about his price, lord and master." She lifted her head, chin jutting out just slightly. "You came into good money..."

The handler stared at her. "A wolf of the Silver. Is it true she is a harbinger then?"

Burnish grinned widely, stumbling on his feet and dangerously close to the bars of the cage. He beamed at the handler. "She would be a Queen had things been peaceful for her packs back in Vel Cirak. Yes, yes they are harbingers. My Saint had to learn to keep the voices from her head." He laughed, eyes turning wistful. "Predicted the death of my uncle. That cunt wanted to be the next Lord but a Harbinger Wolf is deadlier than even this mutt."

Burnish looked to Marro. The smile he wore began to fade to a sneer. "He may be one of the best in the pits and dens, but the Argyris Bloodline is deadlier. They are smarter. Skilled hunters with deadlier strikes. They will always keep a distance and stalk their prey, wait until the prey loses their energy and begin to slow. May even lull another into false pretenses, make you do all the work before they simply bite your head off clean."

Raniya stared at Marro. She was still so still, as if waiting for something awful to pass.

She hated killing. Hated the taste of blood or the colour staining her. They had put her in the pit a year ago, and was told to fight a traitor. He had been beaten until he was weak, and the lords and ladies of Ashcroft called for the Silver One! The Harbinger Wolf! The Bitch Queen! They cried out for her to fight.

They did not know Khiall was a friend. They would not care, if they did remember at all. They all wanted to see her in action, and Raniya had to do as they wished. She had to survive, even if it meant ending the life of a friend she needed in a place like this.

After she came out victorious, she refused to leave her room. Refused to see Marro out of shame. She had been comvinced she did not deserve happiness.

The handler chuckled. "This one is not for sale at this moment... but if you are looking for new blood to build strong with... I heard a hunter found a pack of winter wolves. A bite cold enough to cause frostbite."

She pushed away their talk. Raniya wanted to leave. Seeing Marro in a cage was one enraging thing to witness, but to see him fresh from the fight was a war within herself. Lust and wanting, to have him use some of that energy and feral intensity on her, but the sight of him covered in blood, to be reminded they both were deadly...

One could never escape Ashcroft. Physically or mentally.

 

[Marro Thackett]

"Oh, I like him. Strong, loyal... so fucking obedient." His eyes turned back to find his own favourite wolf. Stared at Raniya for a moment

His expression stiffened for a moment. Marro realised that Burnish was considering purchasing him. How much easier would their lives by if he was nearby? If they were deliberately pushed together.

Then he felt sickened to take joy in possibly having his slavery changed to better suit them. It was still slavery. Their children would be taken as prizes.

Then, his emotions changed again. He was vulnerable after his anger was spent. He was dismissed and he felt regret that the possibility was snatched away.

“Funny thing about mutts, my lord,” Marro said, voice gravel-rough and perfectly calm. “We don’t waste time stalking. We just strike.”

The lord ignored him.

The handler chuckled. "This one is not for sale at this moment... but if you are looking for new blood to build strong with... I heard a hunter found a pack of winter wolves. A bite cold enough to cause frostbite."

Blood still crusted beneath his nails. The silver collar still burned. Yet none of it mattered while those pale grey eyes held his.

"Perhaps I should enquire if I can find her a suitable mate," Burnish said out loud.

That took his attention away from Raniya.

 

[Raniya]

“We don’t waste time stalking. We just strike.”

Burnish didn't hear him. He was still too invested in his plans and dreams with the use of her womb whether she liked ot or not.

Raniya didn't want to hear anymore of it, not when the man she loved was there, watching and hearing, and they were unable to show their love publicly. She needed to do something... even if it annoyed her master.

Stepping up beside Lord Burnish, Raniya dared closer to the bars. Her eyes looked Marro up and down, as if she were a highborn assessing the cheap tools. "Brute through and through. There is an art of obedience when it comes to waiting. Calculations are done, assessment of risk... but yes, some wolves like to merely strike."

Burnish chuckled richly, peering between his prized wolf and the mutt. "Fuck, she has you there!"

Raniya stared at Marro, bore down her gaze with an intensity that was meant to make him stir. This was a distraction. This was to be fun. Her lips crooked to show him she came to play. "Do be a good boy and listen to your master's stay command. Shall do you wonders."

Burnish snickered, too drunk to truly care about the fact Raniya was trying to provoke a caged wolf. He beamed, staring at the mutt.

The handler chuckled softly, watching Raniya.

"I am a Harbinger Wolf, and it is you that make souls scream as you kill. You are the source of every head ache death brings me." Her voice turned low, a near snarl as she shook her head. Her silver hair glimmered in it's movement, having been brushed and run through with oils that morning to show how well groomed she had the luxury of being.

 

[Marro Thackett]

Marro’s eyes never left hers.

The moment she stepped forward, the air in the narrow corridor changed: sharper, charged, like the hush before lightning.

Blood still crusted his knuckles, silver still burned at his throat, but none of it mattered while Raniya stood close enough for him to catch the faint scent of the oils in her hair.

He let the silence stretch just long enough for Burnish’s drunken chuckle to fade.

He bared his teeth and growled. Face on, even to his love, he couldn't let that challenge go unmatched. Even though he knew what she was trying to do. That sound she would feel in her chest and in her loins. He wasn't always gentle with her.

“I do make souls scream. Funny thing is… most of ‘em are still breathing when they start.”

He took one deliberate step closer to the bars. The chains dragged with a single, deliberate clink.

"Want me to make it real loud in here?" he threatened.

His gaze flicked down to her throat, to the place where her pulse beat quick and fierce beneath pale skin, then back up to her eyes.

“Queen.”

 

[Raniya]

Raniya grinned, her eyes dancing with light at his return to her challenge. She stared a moment longer, choosing her words.

"Are you flirting with me?" She mused.

Burnish turned his attention back to tje caged wolf. A smirk lined his lips. "Too bad he is not for sale..." His eyes were calculating again. Considering.

Raniya looked to him. Softened her voice. "He is one of the best in the fighting pits. You have a good eye, master. Perhaps there is value in him to pursue." She shrugged, a hand lifting to play with the silver chain loosely around her neck. It irritated her, but it was mostly steel than silver, and more tolerable than pure. Her eyes flicked back to Marro, slowly dragging her gaze over him. "Wolves look to the stronger ones when wanting a mate. Do not overlook that, my master."

"Yes, yes... I will consider it." Burnish rapped his knuckles against the bars. "Right, off you go. Time for us to take our leave."

Burnish nodded to the handler before turning to his favoured wolf. He pulled her hair away from her face and shoulders and stared at her face a little longer. "You should get as much rest as you can. Keep that face pretty without dark circles beneath your eyes."

Raniya still looked to Marro with the smallest of smiles. Oh, she would not be resting tonight, and he was the one to make it so.

---

She moved through the streets with practiced steps. The slippers on her feet softened her footfalls, and allowed her to move easier towards the home she had purchased after years and years of taking scraps from her master. It was only a single room with a kitchen and other features like a bath, but all she wished was to light a fire and lay on the cushions before it.

Small chances of finding time with Marro were not often, but they knew to wait here for each other.

Raniya would heat the water for the bath, intending on cleaning him after his day at the pits. Wash it all away so that they could pretend, here in this small home, that they were not chained wolves.

A light meal of cheeses and cured meats and sliced bread would also await him. She knew he would come. This place held his scent strongly, and Raniya always made it back to her gilded cage in time to wash herself and leave no trace of his scent over her.

Now, she waited.

 

[Marro Thackett]

The door opened without a knock.

Marro slipped inside as silently as smoke. The latch clicked shut behind him.

The silver collar was gone (he had learned long ago which guards could be bribed and which ones slept hardest after the fights). He looked exhausted

He smelled of sand and blood. Even enough that a human might smell it. She would pick up the scents beneath that. Pine needles and cold night air and his own familiar scent.

He did not speak at first. He simply stood there, shoulders filling the narrow doorway, blue eyes finding her across the small room.

Then the corner of his mouth lifted, tired and crooked but hers.

“Evenin’, my Saint,” he said, voice rough from disuse and the lingering burn of silver.

He crossed the floor in three slow strides, chains clinking softly against his sides. When he reached her he did not ask permission; he simply dropped to his knees and rested his brow against her thigh like a penitent seeking absolution.

“Been a long day of being a good dog,” he murmured against her skin.

“Thought I might come be a very bad one for a few hours instead.”

He tilted his face up then, eyes bright with exhaustion and something fiercer. “I almost felt relief they'd put is in the same cage. Then angry at myself," he admitted.