The Obliging Saxon (Krom & I).

[DarkRiffs]

Gerald sat in the chair at his table quietly, feasting on a freshly caught boar, munching away as he sat alone.He owned the lands from here to as far as the map with the colours on it said, he didn't really care for formalities.He was stingy, rarely giving up land for any of the peoples cause, as it meant less he got to control, it took a great deal to convince him to fork over.A particular family had been badgering him for quite a while and each time he'd said no, and he thought by now they'd get the point, however he had no doubts there'd be another attempt.

Sitting back he whiped his lips and sighed, his dirty blonde hair falling around his shoulders as his stern blue eyes gazed into the hearth nearby, savouring the roaring fire that warmed the place."Just get it over with already" he said silently, he hated going out of his way to hear something he already knew he was going to reject.

 

[Krom]

Donnchad, indeed, is typical of the family poor Gerald has had to suffer for so many complaints. The Celt is tall, with chiseled features and long, raven-black hair, his body clad in only a short tunic, ending at mid-thigh. Indeed, the land dispute has endured since the first Saxon invasions a decade ago, when Gerald took these very lands. Donnchad's clan has owned these lands for centuries, once as chieftans, but as the invaders came, of course, that land was divvied up between Gerald's own vassals.

Donnchad tilts his body forward into an awkward bow - clearly not a gesture the free Celt is used to - and murmurs a faint, "Thank you for your time, ah... lord, is it?" Surprising! The Celt speaks Saxon, albeit accented and stumbling. "I've come because my family has decided we have been unreasonable in demanding our--ah, your--lands without, ah... payment."

He pauses here, apparently awaiting a reaction from the big Norseman.

 

[DarkRiffs]

He gazed over and blinked, this was a first.A celt willing to buy back land?...how amusing.He set his goblet down and leaned forward on the table, stroking thick matting of facial hair on his chin."Sit....I'd like to here more" he said in his deep tenor voice, gesturing to the chair nearby."If your offer is reasonable enough I might consider it" he said in a cautious tone, glaring at the man."However don't expect me to let your land go lightly" he warned.He was perfectly willing to negotiate, but his prices would of course be steep, he was rather interested in what the Celt would offer him.

 

[Krom]

Donnchad takes the seat cautiously, clearing his throat to speak, "Ah, as you know, we're not the wealthiest clan anymore, not since..." He trails off, apparently considering his words well. Indeed, what may have seemed like indignance at first may in fact be nervousness on the part of the young Celt. His eyes do not lift to face the Norseman's own, and there is little of the proud defiance his race usually displays.

"Of course, a king like yourself has need of men in his, ah, service. I've decided I will give my own service over in return for a parcel of my family's land being returned to them."

The idea is laughable, at first glance. The young Celt is not even much of a warrior by his own people's standards, let alone those of the violent, war-mongering Norsemen. What service could this young man even hope to offer?

 

[DarkRiffs]

He contemplated the offer quietly.His own kind were too proud to be servants, at least the kind he desired.He was sick of cooking and cleaning his own home, making his bed and all that."Perhaps, though I'd like to know what you can do for me before we talk further" he said."Out of curiosity, how large a portion of land were you hoping for" he said, folding his hands on the table and gazing at the Celt.If he could swing a man servant for a small chunk of land, it would be worth it's weight in gold, penny pound.

 

[Krom]

"We were hoping only for enough land for a few cows, perhaps some wheat... not much at all," he replies.

Donnchad clears his throat softly, glancing around the otherwise-empty room as if he's slightly ashamed - a strange sight in a Celt. He leans forward toward Gerald, his voice lowering to barely more than a whisper, "Ah, my Lord, my father heard whispers that perhaps you require a... different kind of service."

 

[DarkRiffs]

His eyebrows raised in curiosity as he smirked."So daddy sent you here to be my new wench hmm?" he said, sitting back and folding his legs."That's very bold of him indeed" he said with a laugh."Well....I suppose an acre or two wouldn't hurt" he said finally, a deep lust in his eyes as he grinned.The celt's father had practically sold the boys soul to the large saxon.

 

[Krom]

Donnchad frowns darkly, and for a moment, there is genuine anger in his eyes. His lips part to voice a protest at the label of 'wench,' but he quickly catches himself, snapping his mouth shut and taking a deep breath.

"Of course, my lord. You're... very generous," he murmurs instead, forcing his lips to curve into a strained smile.

 

[DarkRiffs]

He gave a coarse laugh, he could see the Celt's pride injuring and it made him gleeful."Yes, sometimes i think too generous.I'll have my associates write the deed tomorrow morning.But as for you....I believe it's time to get to work" he said, gesturing under the table with a malice grin.He was going to enjoy this, a Celts pride was a hard thing to smash, but he wanted to try none the less.