Private Tales The Broken Crown

[Alre Castielle]

"I'm sure we will." Alre said calmly, though in truth he still tried to separate his thoughts.

Her reassurance was a kindness, but it did not settle in the way that it should have. Confidence had never been a problem for him, and neither had many worries. It was not anxiety that plagued him now, not a lack of surety about what would happen.

It was frustration.

Alre did not know what was happening in his home. What his Uncle had done. The more time passed the more agitated he became.

This was his home. It was his Kingdom. Brigands were running wild. Villagers were being hunted.

All that Alre wanted to do was cut his Uncle's throat and see every man who had supported him hung from the gallows. That was an urge that wouldn't go away, no matter how much he was reassured. So it was better to ignore it. At least in moments like these.

 

[Mariana]

As if feeling his agitation and frustration, she paused in brushing her lips across his skin. "We can go. The horses are rested enough. I'm rested enough."

She let her fingers fall to his broad shoulders.

Bare skin on bare skin.

"Do you want to leave now?"

 

[Alre Castielle]

He nodded. "Let's keep going."

They wouldn't reach Idel until well into the night as it was.

The longer they stayed the longer it would take to get there. It was a silly thing, in truth. There was no guarantee that even if they got there they would find anything of true value. Information sure, but other than that?

It would be weeks yet before Alre could do anything about his Uncle. Perhaps even months if things were truly as bad as he suspected they were.

"I'll make sure you're comfortable when we get there." He said with a gentle squeeze of her rear.

 

[Mariana]

"I think I know what your favorite body part is," the priestess smirked up at him and then stepped away from him, smacking his rear as she passed and went to collect her dress. Wading out of the stream, she slipped it back on and got her shoes back on, then mounted back up her rested stallion. Sitting tall, she waited until he was ready, then went toward the road again.

They rode the rest of the way in silence.

She kept a sharp eye on the road ahead but there were no more Anirians. They'd passed beyond the country's borders. She didn't even bother with the scarf anymore, letting it sit around her shoulders instead of over her head. She did feel the call of her magic. A stirring. An ask to be released. Frowning, she tightened her hands on the reins as they came upon a village.

At its center, there was a windmill that looked as though it had just seen a fire. And the people looked wary as the pair approached.

 

[Alre Castielle]

Most did not even cast a second glance their way, or if they did it was done with head down and eyes half hidden.

It was a depressing sight. "I remember this place."

He began softly, lips thinning for a few moments as he gently pulled on the reins of his horse to slow the mount down to a trot. He looked around again, then let his eyes eventually settle on Averey as an unease pulled across his features.

"It was a lot more alive when I was here last." Alre paused, then added. "Things have gotten bad."

Very bad.

Slowly he slipped from the saddle. "Come on."

Alre said as he began to head towards an Inn.

 

[Mariana]

The people seemed...afraid. Afraid of outsiders. They kept giving wary glances in her and Talus’ direction. Swinging a let over the saddle, she slid down. There was a small bard attached to the Inn. Averey offered the stable boy the reins as Alre suffered the coin. The elf tried to give the shaken human a reassuring smile.

But he remained hardened. A hand on a knife at his belt. As if ready to defend his life.

She followed Alre into the Inn. A bar was its entrance. But it was mostly empty. Two old men sat nursing a keg of ale. And that was it. Besides the large orc female behind the bar top. She eyed them back, wiping her hands on a dirty towel over her shoulder.

“If you want a room I’m only taking coin in advance.”

 

[Alre Castielle]

Alre pulled out a Silver from his belt. "I don't mind that."

He placed the coin on the table.

It was by far overpaying. A room here would have cost near enough three coppers, this was practically enough to pay for month and then some. Alre didn't care though. These were his people, even if they were on the far reaches of his lands.

"Thi-this is far too much I can't."​

There was still suspicion on the Innkeepers face, her voice shaky as she glanced between her two new guests.

"It is well deserved." Alre said simply. "Just give us a room."

He offered a smile.

 

[Mariana]

Averey offered a reassuring smile of her own. The elf was impressed with Alre’s gesture. She wasn’t sure if his actions were altruistic. But did it matter? Now this inn keeper had money she needed. And guests that weren’t going to go after what little she had left.

“This way,” the orc stammered and met them outside the bar, taking them through the kitchen doors and down a short, narrow hall. “Other rooms are under repair. This one is the most put together.”

Opening the door, she stepped back so the pair could enter. It was a modest room but not as terrible as the one they’d stayed a few hours in, in the Empire. One simple, four poster bed. A wash basin and a small wooden chair by the window that looked toward the partially burned down windmill in the distance.

“Thank you,” Averey smiled again at the orc but she was already closing the door on them.

“We made it,” she said quietly, looking to the king. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she’d met him drunken in the streets. How he’d looked at her with mostly contempt in his eyes. How he’d insisted on helping that night when the raid happened.

She swallowed, wondering again if her fellow priestesses had gotten out. If they were still alive.

 

[Alre Castielle]

"We did." Alre said quietly, though he knew it wasn't exactly true.

They had made it passed the Anirians, but their challenge was hardly over now. No one had known who he was in Anirian Territory. They might have hated Averey for her ears, but at most they would have been chased out of town.

Now?

Now they were in lands controlled by his Uncle. Sure there were no soldiers this close to the border, but that didn't make it any easier. Every step they took would put them in more danger, every time he raised his head a spy had a chance of seeing them.

They had gone from the frying pan directly into the fire. "We can rest for a night or two."

He said, deciding to ignore the facts for now.

"In a proper bed no less." Alre mused as he kicked off his boots.

 

[Mariana]

"You need it," she said as she turned from the window and the harrowing site of that windmill.

"Rest," she clarified. They both did. They'd been on the road, ships - on the run nearly since they'd met. And she knew they were by no means safe. Not safe from his uncle and certainly not safe from the dark priest.

"Are you saying you didn't think the beds were proper at the night court temple?" A twitch of her lips as she tilted her head at the king.

 

[Alre Castielle]

"They were not." Alre said with a smile.

Though that was weeks ago though, at least it seemed like it.

They had come half the world over both land and sea. Now that they were closer to their end destination, a point that they had not even decided on when leaving, it seemed almost too strange to actually think about. His boots clattered to the ground.

A sigh escaped him as he tossed himself back on the bed. Now to take back my throne.

Alre thought to himself.

"This ones not so bad though." He commented with a smile.

 

[Mariana]

Reaching down, she peeled off her sandals. Bare feet padded along the area rug and wood slats of the room as she looked down at his sprawled form. Lips remained curved upward.

“Not SO bad?” Her smile widened as her eyes glinted. A hand came up to tuck auburn curls delicately behind a pointed ear. “Now you sound like a true royal. How can I make it better for you?” A raise of her brows in challenge to the man.

“Since this bed is still not up to the royal caliber.”

 

[Alre Castielle]

Alre opened his eyes, head lulling to the side to look up at her. A smile quirked on his lips as he watched her for a brief moment.

"I can think of a way." The Once King said with that same confident smirk.

It was nice to forget the stresses of what was around them, what lay upon their shoulders. Alre knew his fate. Knew what he had to do. He needed no reminder, but the world had already offered him one by the form of this village.

His Uncle would see everything burn, but he would not allow that.

Yet he didn't always have to feel that weight. "Come here."

He told her with a crook of his hands.

 

[Mariana]

"Are you trying to give me orders?"

A twist of her lips as she slid one knee onto the bed followed by the other, straddling his prone body. Her hands pressed against the bed on either side of him as she hovered over him. Hair dripping down her shoulders and framing her face, that twitching smile never leaving her lips.

The magical ink twirling up her arms and disappearing behind the fabric of her dress seemed to shimmer for a moment.

"You and I both know what happens when you try to give me orders."

 

[Alre Castielle]

"Seemed to have worked." Alre commented, before adding. "This time."

Forgetting was good.

He didn't always have to be that man. He didn't always have to be the King that was. He didn't always have to be filled with rage and cynical hatred.

For a brief moment he could be another man. The one that perhaps his mother and father would have wished him to be. The commoner. The one that wouldn't take another step, the one that could just be ordinary. As in-ordinary as all of this was.

"Will just have to keep trying." Alre said as his hands slipped onto her hips.

 

[Mariana]

"Try being the key word," she murmured and leaned down slowly until her mouth captured his own. Her hands went toward his shirt beneath them, urging it off.

She pulled away for a moment, enough to nip at his ear before whispering.

"If I recall correctly, you made me some promises at the river. Something about needing a proper bed to fulfill them. Do you remember, hmmm?"

 

[Alre Castielle]

His fingers tightened for a few seconds on her hips. Thumbs pressed softly against her skin, his touch drifting a bit as he pulled up the silk of her dress and began to reveal her thighs.

Alre smiled. "That I do."

He mused with a smirk. Eyes wandered slowly over her form, shifting slightly to look over every curve and line of her body in wrought appreciation. The Once King smirked for a few seconds, until her dress pooled around her hips.

"It's a promise I aim to fulfill." He told her softly. "Don't you worry."

Alre said as his fingers drifted over her bare thighs.

 

[Mariana]

His fingers sent tingles along her skin wherever they trailed. With a second nip at his ear, she pulled back a few inches, her hands peeling the last of his shirt away from his body.

"Do I look worried?" She mused over him.

She settled against his chest, forearms pressed lightly into his skin. Fingers lifted, brushing through his hair.

 

[Alre Castielle]

The night was not a restful one, at least not the first half.

Alre and Averey spent their time intertwined and enrolled with one another. Fingers dragging over curves, lips pressed against supple flesh, heat drawing across one another. Not an ounce of energy was wasted or time dragged away the King fulfilled every measure of his promise.

By the time the moon hung within the air Alre held his hand softly across Averey, pinning her to the bed. His touch was soft, but firm. There was something about it that lingered upon the skin, his fingers dragging ever so slowly.

"See? No reason at all." Alre mused with a smirk.

"Not." Lips pressed against her throat. "One bit."

 

[Mariana]

Auburn curls were tangled and strewn about, around her head. That smile never left her lips. Something deeper than carnal pleasure flickered in her gaze as she looked up at the man.

A breathy chuckle as he mouth pressed against her skin. As the soft bed cradled her from the back. Her fingers never left his skin. Trailing over hard muscles and lines. Savoring each moment. Even after everything they’d just done.

“Did not disappoint,” she crooned. “I can see a proper bed makes a difference. And your stamina is....commendable. I don’t think another human has been able to last this long.”

Her toes curled.

 

[Alre Castielle]

Alre chuckled. "They did always say we're were sons of the divines."

A rumor, a myth.

Justification as to why the great Mercenary Kings had never fallen in battle and had taken Kingdom after Kingdom without failure. It was a silly story of course, an old one that had long ago been dismissed by other religions which had come and gone. Not even the crowns most ardent followers believed it now.

Still, Alre had always enjoyed it, if only because it had given him something else to brag about late at night in the taverns. A hand came up to run through his hair, breath filling his lungs.

"Not a bad way to spend the first night back home." Alre mused.

Not bad at all.

 

[Mariana]

“Oh?” She looked up at him. “That would explain why you’re so cocky,” a light tease with a fingered poke to his chest followed by a loving caress. Head tipped back on the pillow.

“But maybe it’s time for you to rest,” a soft laugh with a soft pat at his rear.

“And there’s something I should probably tell you. Don’t worry, I’m not pregnant.”

 

[Alre Castielle]

Alre raised an eyebrow. "What?"

Was this something about the dark mages following her? The hope was to turn them and his uncle against one another, but the chances of that working out were slim. At least unless they did everything right, which in it of itself would be complicated.

A breath filled his lungs for a moment.

Whatever bad news she had now they would handle it. One plan was already made, another could come in just as easily.

They just needed time, which luckily for the first time in their entire journey they had plenty of.

 

[Mariana]

"To get rid of the scroll's power I took. The power the dark wizards are after, it requires a ritual."

She paused, letting her lips press together.

Her fingers spread along the sheets, gripping them for a moment before letting them go. "A sacrifice in that ritual. One I was prepared to make since I did the spell to transfer the scroll to my skin." Arm lifted, her gaze shifting to the markings that wove their way up her flesh. Her own fingers trailing across the magical ink. Her eyes flickered to Alre.

"I have to give my life, Alre."

 

[Alre Castielle]

He frowned. "That's insane."

Magic always had a price.

Alre knew that, because he'd heard dozens of wizards, sorcerers, and clerics tell it to him for most of his life. It was a trick that they all had to contend with, something that the laws of nature itself presented. There was always a cost.

That cost though was never determined.

"There's another way." His voice was firm. "There's always another way."