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Of Necromancy and Nobility;; Part 4 |
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Crevan and Ahri spent the next months getting to know each other, some days more than others. The other slaves began to be suspicious of the pair, not that Crevan tried to hide it. He often called her to his room, and she would spend hours there, sometimes not leaving for days. The half-demon's heart began to soften, and the fox's mind began to reel.
They laid in each other's embrace one winter morning, under a large fur blanket, Ahri purring contentedly. This day was planned to be just an ordinary day: passionate lovemaking and lots of cuddling. But the arrival of a certain man prevented this ordinary routine from occurring. As the Coyote approached Crevan's door, another servant informed him of the arrival. Crevan growled, gritting his teeth.
“Ahri, you're going to have to put on a good show for him. If he finds out about us, you'll be executed. You're not of royal blood.” he said softly, frowning. Ahri turned his face to hers and kissed him before slipping out the door.
The other slaves scowled at her as she passed. Slipping into her old room, she fetched attire that was more appropriate to slave status: a ragged brown dress. Looking at herself in the mirror, she frowned, untying the ribbon around her neck and draping it over her dresser. She started toward the main chamber as she heard Crevan greet the Coyote. He soon was staring at the vermin prince, his face paled. There was no way that he would do any such thing.
“Your highness, with all due respect she's just a slave; even if she's as powerful as you say she's really not a threat. How do you even know that she is what you think she is?” the fox argued, his voice low. The Coyote sneered, unrolling a piece of parchment. Crevan took it, reading before dropping it on the table, scowling.
“No. I won't do it.” he said flatly, standing and opening the door to exit, coming nose to nose with Ahri. He swiftly pulled her into the room by the arm, her instincts kicking in she crumpled to the floor, cowering against the wall.
“Ahri, what is your place in this house?” he asked her, growling. She averted her eyes from him to the floor, whimpering, “I asked you a question.”
She winced, but answered, “I-I am your slave.” came her weak voice. Crevan looked over to the Coyote, who was not satisfied. He looked down to her, a pang in his chest at what he was about to do.
Crevan brought his hand down in a harsh slap across Ahri's face. There was an echo. Then there was silence.
Her eyes met his, wide and fearful to his guilt-ridden ones. He was horrified at what he'd just done. What happened to him? He swore to her...
Ahri felt tears p***k at the corner of her eyes. She was heartbroken in a single moment. She scampered off. The Coyote grinned.
“Well that makes it all the easier. I will expect her to be sent down in a week's time.” he said, standing and walking to the door, “And, if you don't send her to me, we will have her killed nonetheless. At least this way you don't have to watch her die. I know how you hate losing a good investment, Crevan.”
The Coyote stood, and Crevan spun around, already in a bow, his hair hanging in his face. The prince exited, and Crevan remained in that position until the vermin was out of sight. He then looked for her, guilt eating at him. He found her in her room. Back to the headboard, knees to her chest, in the same position he found her all those months ago when he made her that promise.
“Ahri-”
“Don't.”
“I didn't have a choice, kitten.”
“Yes you did. Obviously your loyalty to the vermin means more than your word.”
His heart sank as he looked at the sand cat that he had come to know not as a slave, but as his mate. She didn't know how much that stung – or how right she was.
“I need to know something-”
“Yes. I'm a necromancer.” she stated flatly, interrupting his question.
He looked away from her, frowning.
“The Prince is afraid of your power. You're part demon so he's afraid of what you could become.”
“Why?”
Crevan paused, then reached for her paw. She shifted away, curling tighter against herself. The fuchsia in her eyes was burning red, an all consuming fire. He shuddered, averting his eyes from hers.
“The last bloodline that ruled here... they were necromancers. The last necromancers that graced this land. They were overthrown out of fear. Their race has long been forgotten, ages and ages past, but the last king... mated a demon.”
Ahri listened, still in a small furry ball. She hated his voice. She hated his beautiful fur. She hated his dark eyes. She hated how she loved him. Crevan reached for her again, this time she crawled over into his lap, her ears falling and her tail curled around her. He nuzzled into her sandy fur, tracing the rusty bands and stripes with a black claw.
“Ahri... he's ordered me to send you to the catacombs. To be killed.”
She whined a bit, but closed her eyes, the fire dying as she accepted this fate. The necromancer must face death. This was what she told herself. She must face death.
“I will greet death as I always have. As a friend.”
xRiniel · Wed Feb 08, 2012 @ 11:37am · 0 Comments |
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