Private Tales The Broken Crown

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Alre pulled her up beside him, and then pulled his hand around her hip to lift her up off her feet and toss her over his shoulder.

It wasn't exactly the most dignified way of being carried about, but between his things, her things, and everything else it was about the only way that he could actually manage it. As he lifted her a few people on the docks clapped. "Thank you, thank you."

He said with a wave.

"All in a days work." Alre offered a smile to those around him, waving briefly before he stepped away and through the crowd.

They had a ship to catch still.
 
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"What're you," she yelped as he tossed her over his shoulder.

OVER HIS SHOULDER LIKE NOTHING BUT A SACK OF POTATOES.

A tired swat at his backside as the blood rushed to her head. "Put me down," she said tiredly. "I can walk on my own." That's what Alre did to her. Leeched any moment of weakened kindness and replaced it with a spark of anger she didn't even know she possessed. Another swat at her hand as the blood continued to pound and rush to her head.
 
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The pelting of his skin didn't go unnoticed, but he didn't feel like letting her go.

He might have, if he wasn't so kind, but instead he continued to carry her towards the steps. His muscles flexed slightly, repositioning her so that he could carry her more easily down the steps and towards where the Captain had told them the Cabin would be.

"You're fine." He told her softly.

"Did you want me to leave our things on the deck?" Alre asked. "Where gold can spill onto the deck and my families sword can get taken by a curious sailor?"

He wasn't about to let that happen.

The door to their room was kicked open, his things tossed onto the floor, his skin finally dry after jumping in and saving her.
 
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"The gold could've easily spilled in the sea," she pointed out, staring at his rear and the floor as she swayed over his shoulder. That backpack of his pressing against her. A shiver went through her even though the air wasn't cold.

"But now I am soaked and my few things are also soaked because you decided to shove me overboard even though," she sighed as he finally lifted her away from him and set her back on her feet, with the bed behind her. She stripped off her pack first, finding her knees wobbling as she took a seat on the bed, unable to support her own weight any further.

Fingers dipped to her wet shirt, going to pull it over her head, too tired to care what he saw or didn't see.
 
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"Not where I threw it." Alre countered almost immediately.

It wasn't as though he were an agent of chaos. Most things he did were planned out, at least focused in some way. He didn't just do things because he thought they were amusing or somehow funny. Everything had a reason, a purpose.

"The Water saved his ship." He told her quietly as he slowly placed his things down on the one table in the room. "Your magic is dangerous if it can't be controlled."

Alre said as he crouched down in front of her. "Now we know the water can help release it."

Which was good considering they'd be on the ship for the next two weeks.

"I didn't throw you in there for fun." He told her, though he felt no real need to justify himself.
 
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She looked at him as he knelt in front of her. That didn't stop her from tossing her wet shirt on the floor with a loud squelch. Or from standing for a moment and peeling her wet skirt off her legs. She still had some underthings on.

"We do know that," she said quietly. "But please tell me you would be lying if you didn't get some satisfaction from pushing me overboard. I would just like, a little bit of warning. Next time." She sat back on the bed and hung her head, palms going to cradle it.
 
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"Fair enough." Alre said, deciding not to be entirely antagonistic.

He wasn't entirely sure how her magic worked, if part of the reason it had been dampened was because of the surprise or because it had just worked out that way. He wondered if she could even really know. Much of this seemed to be a mystery to her as well.

A hand ran through his hair, and he shook his head.

His mouth was about to open to say something else when he suddenly heard a commotion above. The sound of tramping boots and shouting echoed, his lips thinning. "Do you hear that?"

Alre said, slowly walking over towards the door to listen more closely.
 
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Head lifted, eyes hardly staying open. A slow blink. Had he really let something go? She was shocked. Beyond her fatigue and beyond the sounds above.

A quiet, grateful look flickered across her face.

She scooched further into bed, sliding beneath the rough blanket, resting her head on one of the flat pillows. Tired eyes closed but she remained awake. Head turned slightly.

Listening.

"Yes," she said tiredly. Goddess, she just needed to sleep a little.
 
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He frowned. "Get some rest."

Alre said with a frown, looking back at her for a moment as if considering if she would do more harm than good in checking out what was actually happening above.

The Young Prince drew himself up, grabbing his sword and pulling on the rest of his clothes. It was best to do this himself.

"I'll take care of this." He told her as he buckled on his sword belt.
 
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Eyes cracked open. She felt like a leaden weight was pressing against her entire body. Down, down, down into that mattress. This foreign magic was powerful but it certainly had a price.

"Please don't get killed in the process. I'd miss our arguments." Notes of truth woven between tired words and an attempt at a smile before she turned on her side, clutching the sheets around her body and her eyes finally closed as sleep took her.
 
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"I'll do my best." Alre said as he slipped out of the door.

By the time Averey woke up the next time she would find that they were already at sea.

The gentle rocking of the ship could be felt beneath their feet, the slow movement of the sea slowly swaying them from side to side. Alre was not in the room when she awoke, and the ship seemed to be almost unnaturally quiet.

There was no yelling, no screaming.

Even the sound of the sails seemed somewhat muted as the vessel continued to slowly trace it's path along the open seas.
 
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She'd half expected to awake with Alre snoring next to her or his hand half thrown across her ass. She was pleasantly surprised and mildly alarmed to find that she had the cabin to herself. Throwing off the sheets, she quickly dressed. Her skin felt normal, not burning or itching.

A small sigh of relief.

Pushing her palm against her eyes one last time, her shoulders straightened as she opened their cabin door. It was a smaller ship than last time, so she knew she wouldn't have a hard time navigating around. Head tilted, pointed ears and her enhanced elf hearing listening for something. The silence felt...off.

Something didn't seem right.

Frowning, she crept up to the deck.
 
When Averey reached the top deck she would find Alre sitting on the edge of the railing, several corpses piled around the top of the deck.

Some were the sailors they had seen the day before, but others wore heavy plated armor slashed with red cloaks that were clearly stained with blood. Alre's sword was leaning beside him, and his expression was neutral as the Captain yelled.

"I CAN NEVER RETURN TO THAT CITY! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

The shouting echoed out, and the reason for the silence was clear.

Everyone was walking on eggshells, even the sailors who had worked this boat for years. "I saved you and this entire ship from being questioned by the Solar Choire."

Alre stated plainly.

"I can assure you, they would havebeaten every one of you to an inch of your life." His voice was calm, smooth. As if there weren't bodies strewn about.
 
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The priestess was shocked. Still. She found her quiet footsteps moving across the deck, to slide next to Alre. A silent gesture that she was with him. By his side. Even as she tried not to gag on the smell of the bodies. Or flinch at the pooling blood wanting to move against her boots.

"What's done is done," she finally spoke, staring at the captain.

"You cannot head back now. We might as well move forward. You will be rewarded for this inconvenience. And I imagine there are plenty of profiting new ports where you can find just as much business without the fear of an occult. There is no denying that he," eyes swept to Alre at her side. "saved all our lives."
 
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"Yep." Alre said with a shrug of his shoulders.

It was clear that the woman in front of him was about two seconds away from pushing him over the railing and seeing him tossed into the sea. Alre however didn't seem to particularly care one way or another, mainly because he knew he could catch himself.

Instead he looked over towards the pile of corpses. "You know the Solar Choire. I bet you've done business long enough in Cortos."

The Captain stared at him with an icy gaze.

"You don't even have to thank me." The woman frowned, and then just turned around and immediately walked away.
 
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A frown pulled at her lips. A sideways glance to the prince without a kingdom. A tug at his side. "Alre," a hushed whisper as she lead him away from the bodies. The opposite direction of the captain.

"Maybe don't gloat so much or taunt her." A whispered warning from the elf priestess.

"We do still need to get to the next port and I'd prefer not to be thrown overboard. Wouldn't you?"

She turned back to the pile of bodies frowning at the crew mixed with the solar choire. "Were the crew coming to your aid or did you kill them as well?"
 
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He frowned for a moment, opening his mouth to speak a rebuke, but then deciding that it probably wasn't worth it.

Alre knew that the Captain couldn't...wouldn't throw them off the ship, but there was a moment of hesitation in speaking on it. He did not want to press Averey too hard, nor did he want to do the same to the Captain. It was a game that had to be played.

Politics.

He wasn't the King on this ship, wasn't a King at all anymore. He had to remember that. "Right."

Alre said with a nod of agreement, frowning for a moment.

"Solar Choire, not me." He explained. "Collateral. They killed the first one when the Captain wouldn't give you up, the others..."

Alre shrugged.
 
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Auburn brows scrunched together on her fair skin.

"Why would the captain not give me up?" It seemed like anyone else just would. Wouldn't be worth the trouble or cost. "This is what you heard before I faded off, wasn't it?"

She released her touch on his side as the sea breeze tugged through her hair.

"Did their soldiers sense the release of magic I did in the water?"
 
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"Solar Choire." Alre corrected. "Not Soldiers."

Though it may not have seemed like it, there was a difference. The latter were far more easy going than the former, and the Captain had probably known that. It was as Alre had said, the Radiant Church did not play when it came to heresy.

For them, guilt by association was just as good as anything else. "I don't know if they sensed it somehow."

He told her truthfully.

"But they won't chase us." That wasn't their game. "Though...'

Alre took a breath. "We can't ever go back there either."
 
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He spoke as if they'd stay together longer. She wondered if it was a slip of his tongue. A small shake of her head at him. About going back. Once she showed her power to help him bring down his uncle. To stop, hopefully, the dark one after this power, she knew it would be over for her.

A small, pained look crossed her face as she suddenly turned to the sea. Taking a deep breath. Savoring the saltiness. The sunshine on her face. The sound of waves beneath them.

"That won't be a problem," she said solemnly. Hand reached out, gripping the railing as she tipped her head toward the sun. The warmth and light. How many more days would she have like this? How many more nights to savor the darkness and stars?
 
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Alre shrugged.

He had never much like Cortos anyway, more than the Empire, but the Radiant Church made it impossible to truly enjoy the place. For a few seconds he mused, a hand running across the stubble on his cheek as he considered.

"We'll have to be careful in the Anirian lands too." Then his fathers old Kingdom. It seemed for the next few weeks they would have to walk on eggshells.

A sigh escaped him.

"The Anirians don't like rogue mages any more than the Solar Choire." Alre reminded. "And their Dreadlords are a hell of a lot harder to kill."

Or so he'd heard.
 
"I'm not looking forward to meeting an Anirians. I know how they feel about my kind," she said quietly. It didn't even matter if she had this unchecked magic along with her own. They'd take one look at her pointed ears and that would be worse than the former reasons.

She turned to him, a wariness in her eyes. Her gaze finally focusing again on the here and now, rather than savoring.

"Are you sure we can't avoid going through their territory?"
 
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He shook his head. "Not if we want to make any sort of decent time."

If they tried to skirt around Anirian territory it would take them another three or four months should to reach the lands his Uncle now controlled. Lips thinned for a moment as he considered, glancing up at her for a moment.

"It'll be alright." Alre said as he tried to reassure her.

"If you wear a scarf on your head, keep clear of anyone of authority." They just had to be careful. "We can slip in and out without much of a problem."

As long as they didn't draw any attention.
 
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“Well,” she looked to him. “We havent had much luck slipping in and out of anywhere. But your faith and optimism is admirable.”

A sigh. A rumble of her stomach. Hunger catching up to her use of magic.

“I’m going to find some food.”
 
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Alre jumped off of the railing finally, shifting so that his blood-stained tunic was at least a bit more comfortable. "I'll join you."

The Prince looked down at the corpses.

"I worked up a bit of an appetite." It was a rather morbid joke, but not one that he could really avoid. Alre knew what he was, what he was destined to be and just what he had to do to get back what belonged to him.

There was no fooling himself about that one. "We should get you a hat."

He mused.

"Something to hide those ears." The Prince jested. "Will make things easier."
 
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