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Spoils of War (DareToDream and Nightingale)

He approached her with a simple, small step. His hand reached out and she closed her eyes as his hands touched her cheeks. He took his time, tracing her cheeks to her chin, down along the hollow of her throat and the top swells of her breast. His touch sent goosebumps along her flesh and sent a small shiver through her. She loved his touch, but unlike he, she had no experience in this department other than a few simple kisses shared in adolescence and the sort. She'd never exposed herself, been touched or desired as deeply as she desired his touch here and now. Finally he brought his touch to tease lightly over her nipples, tracing the tender buds. She kept her eyes closed, and bit her bottom lip softly. A delicate, sound of pleasure escaping her. He repeated the process and back tracked with his touch, until his fingers laced through her hair and he pulled her into a heavy, heated kiss. Illayna pressed forward, deepening the passionate hunger that burned so brilliantly within that simple kiss. His teeth tugged at her lip and she moaned. His nuzzle was returned, and the velvet tongue that caressed her ear sent another shiver through her. his words, increasing the goose bumps that littered her flesh.

Nodding softly, she turned from him, but for a moment. To survey the field around them, she started to move towards the shore. Making her way out of the water. As she surfaced completely, she could feel the cool water dripping down her hips and thighs. Her entire body noe exposed to him and bathed in the moon light. The small speckles of water that remained upon her flesh glistened in the kiss of light. She pulled her hair over her shoulder and wrung out the honey curls before letting them fall down the course of her back, to kiss and hide the delicate ivory markings that resided there.. looking much more like scars than the tattoo they actually were. Gently she traced hands down her arms to push some of the excess water away. She felt the heat in her face cool, and she glanced back over her shoulder to the form of marcus, still half submerged in the pool of water. "Are you coming, my love?" She whispered softly, coyly. A soft coo and lilt to her tone. She took a few more steps further inland and towards the more solid ground that surrounded the base of the falls.

It was nice, but the sudden exposure to the cool air, had her body giving a shiver, and her nipples stiffened. She shivered... and gently crossed her arms about her buxom to keep them warm. She was feeling now, perhaps a bit more shy than she had been before. She was nervous, but she knew more than anything she wanted this time with him, this memory to last forever... this moment alone meant so much to her. To see him, without weapon or care, without fear of his fellow man. It brought a smile to her lips, and she basked in it's glory. Marcus was all she wanted, all she needed... but to bring peace to her people.. that was something she had to do, before she could truly escape in a world of her own.
 
The moan was the sweetest sound of all, a light purr that slipped past her lips when they broke their kiss. It sent a surge of desire through his body, hardening things that were meant to be hardened, and he had to actually clench his hands at his sides to keep from touching her even more. He could get lost in the curves and valleys of her flesh, tracing, touching, caressing, and he knew the time would come for that but now was not it. When she pulled away from him and began to head towards shore, her steps brushing the water away from her soft creamy thighs, he watched in admiration. His gaze traveled over every inch of skin it could see, watching the droplets of water flow down her sensual form; it was torture, pure torture and he wanted nothing more to slowly lick the wet trails away. Just the thought drew a moan to his lips and tightened his body even more, a sight that was thankfully hidden from view by the wet pants that now clung to his hips.

When she reached the shoreline, she paused to wring out her golden tresses but all he saw was the way the moon’s light bathed her in a glorious shine. Illayna was a Princess and that was never more obvious in that moment when she shone with an inner glow. She thought he was favored by the Goddess but he knew better; he was liked, yes that was true, but it was her that held the most favor, for it was her that held the most hope. Hope for peace and hope for unity, hope for love and hope for joy….simply hope. Marcus…he offered security and strength, even leadership…but hope…no, that wasn’t his role, not in his mind at least. His thoughts were brought back to the present when she spoke and he raised his eyes to meet hers, aware that he’d been caught staring. A blush crept over his cheeks then, one that was bright and hot, but he ignored it. “Mmm, of course, my love” he said, though in truth he didn’t move a muscle, wanting to wait just one more minute. This would be their first time together, in body and in soul, and he wanted it to be perfect, something they would both remember until they were old.

Glancing around, he saw her cloak on the rocks and then smiled softly when he saw her cover herself. It felt good to know that he wasn’t the only one nervous and with that thought in his mind, he slowly emerged from the pool, letting the water drip down off his body. Moving softly across the ground, he reached the rocks and lifted her cloak then headed towards her. Stopping at her side, he stole a quick kiss and then placed the cloak over the dewy grass. “This will give us some comfort, love” he whispered, his breath barely a breeze against her ear. Reaching out, he took one hand and pulled it away from her body, his fingers twining with hers. “Let us explore each other more” he murmured as he sank to his knees, drawing her down with him. Shifting his body around, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her then moved his mouth to her neck, nibbling as he went. When he reached her collarbone, he bit it gently, his teeth tugging on her skin. He wanted to please her tonight, to give her something worth remembering, so he took his time and started exploring.
 
Finally he moved, and when he approached with her cloak in hand she quirked a slender brow. Understanding near immediately as he laid the cloak upon the dewy grass, rousing the scent of the nearby clover patch and the sweet, sweet smell of the soft grass. She smiled softly, though she fought to resist the urge to withdraw as he pulled her hand away from her body and twined his fingers with hers. She nodded, and knelt with him, returning that sensuous kiss with all her deepest passion. His lips parted from hers, and long lashes kissed her cheeks as the soft of his lips grazed along her flesh to her neck, and down along her collar bone. She breathed him in, basked in his every touch. The gentle bite, the pull of his teeth along the flesh of her collar bone sent a chill down her spine, but her fingertips move to caress the back of his neck, to encourage his actions. It felt good. Illayna did not wish for him to stop. In this moment, she trusted him, she would follow him, his touch. She ached for it, her body pleaded for more. She pushed herself not to think about the fact she was bare, exposed completely before him. Her fingertips gently tracing down along his neck and shoulders. Her touch welcoming him, encouraging. She breathed a soft sigh of contented pleasure.

She would remember this night. There was no doubt in her mind. He was being so gentle.. so careful, it brought an honest smile to her lips and a flutter to her heart. He was being mindful of her innocence and that comforted her. He was blessed by the Goddess for a reason, and Illayna welcomed this. She welcomed him into her life, her heart, her mind. She wanted nothing more than to work beside him for their common goal. To bring their worlds a brilliant peace, so that perhaps one day they would no longer need to meet in secret trysts, to whisper as they passed, or play along in stupid cherades. They would be allowed to be together, with no shame, no need to hide, no need for secrecy or constant fear. She would not have to look over her shoulder every moment, of every day to ensure her life was not in danger. She was no longer alone.. she was no longer sad, or apathetic. She had someone who felt, who thought, who acted just as she did. My Goddess... Blessed Be My Goddess... I Thank Ye for this night. Her mind whispered, as her heart fluttered and her lips part with a gasp of pleasure. His teeth upon her flesh, was a sensation she would not forget.

The warmth that flooded her, she was certain was the reason for her molten core, her heated desires. She was eager for him, wanted him, but she knew patience would do her best. Slow.. nice and slow. She would regret rushing it, she was certain. This way they could take their time, enjoy eachother, explore each other and learn the pleasure of their bodies when together. For Illayna still had many a thing to learn about these sort of encounters.. she'd never been with a man, like Marcus had been with a woman.. and though she was somewhat intuitive, she was thankful for his guidance, his patience with her. Tilting her head back just a bit, she basked in his touch. Memorized every sensation, embeded this moment into her deepest memory. She wanted to remember all of it. Every bit of their night, as they bathed in the silver light of the moon, and embraced each other.
 
This moment in time, this thing guided by the hand of a Goddess, would stay with Marcus forever, buried deep in his heart and wound tightly around his soul, left there to pulse with pleasure whenever he thought of it. In all of his life he could never imagine the kind of love that he felt right then, a love so deep and strong that it scared the warrior inside him, making it want to flee from the emotions that were boiling just under the surface of his skin. This moonlit glen, with its enchanting mist, soft grassy carpet, and roaring waterfall, would be their secret place, where they could feel safe and be true to each other, even in the darkest moments of their lives and the lives of their countrymen. The protection of the Goddess and her mate surrounded them, infusing life into this hidden place, blessing their union with divine acceptance. That there would be a union was not in question, not in Marcus’s heart at least, but he wanted to take his time, to enjoy every inch of her, and not let life’s worries rush them. As his lips placed a gently kiss over the spot he’d just bitten, Marcus moaned softly, his body trembling with his need. Control was a warrior’s friend though and he used it to stay steady, his hands lightly caressing her shoulders and sides, touching, teasing, enjoying while his mouth moved back to her neck.

As his tongue darted out to lightly lick her skin, he briefly wondered what would happen when they became one in body and soul. Would the magic of this glen amplify and change it somehow or would they simply bring one more beautiful moment to its serene embrace? He didn’t know but he looked forward to finding out, that much was sure and so with that thought in mind, his mouth drifted more, his tongue slipping out to lightly trace the hollow of her throat. The touch of her fingers against the back of his neck was sending tingles down his spine, the mist coating his hard upper body in a fine moist sheen. Tilting his mouth, he suddenly nipped her neck again, teeth pulling at her skin, and then did the same just under her chin. That bite forced her head to tilt back more, unbalancing them just a bit, and he used the change in balance to push her backwards, the two of them tumbling down to the cloak turned blanket. He braced himself above her then, his elbows all that kept them apart, his heated gaze locked with her own, searching, seeking, wanting. “Illayna, my love, you are my heart and my soul” he whispered softly as he lowered his body to brush against hers, the rough fabric of his pants gliding across her slick skin. “Never have I wanted someone as much as I want you, right now, right here. One night of magic before responsibility grabs us again.” He dipped his head then, stealing a hard, passionate kiss before gliding his lips over her cheek to nip at the sensitive lobe of an ear. “You are beautiful, my Princess, inside and out and tonight I claim you as my own, to love and cherish, Goddess blessed and Greymere and Narvashal be damned.”

Done talking now, Marcus shifted his weight, scraping the hard abs of his chest across her sensitive breasts, drawing a moan from his lips. He slowly began to move backwards, his body gliding against hers, and when those lovely breasts were finally exposed, his mouth descended. Tongue darting out, he traced the sensual curve of one before nipping the soft flesh, teeth plucking gently against the skin and giving it a light tug. Moving to her other one he repeated the steps, his body humming with the desire that flowed through him. Not content just yet, he flicked that moist tongue out, drawing it roughly across one sensitive hardening nub then the other. Lifting his head, he gave her a Cheshire cat grin, licking his lips. “Mmm, you’re loveliness tests my control, Illayna” he whispered, his eyes half-lidded with suppressed need. “Definitely tests my control.” With that, he shifted again, moving backwards some more and lowered his head. His tongue traced down between those lovely softly mounds before gliding over the flat planes of her stomach, pausing to nip her again before rimming her navel. He drifted lower then, his hands gliding over her thighs, and briefly considered dipping between her legs for a taste. He stopped himself though, remembering that she was new to this, and instead slowly pulled away and sat up. His hands continued to caress her legs, teasing her inner thighs before sliding down to her ankles and back up again. “I think…it’s time I got undressed” he murmured as he slowly stood at the foot of her body and undid his pants. With a sensual shimmy, he slid the sopping wet material over his hips to fall to the ground, stepping out of them. His undergarment followed next, tossed aside like a piece of driftwood, his hard shaft bouncing in the cool breeze of night. Swallowing hard as he stared down at her, Marcus slowly lowered to his knees then leaned over top of her, his swollen member brushing her legs. His lips found hers for a slow, sweet kiss, finally pulling away with a sigh of pleasure. “Do you want me, my love?” he whispered, his voice husky with need. “Do you want to feel me inside you?”
 
His tongue laved over the hollow of her neck and she canted her head back. He used the change in balance to lay her back with him above her. She settled beneath him and stared up at him, the soft mist rolling off the water as the falls crashed tickled against her skin. The hardness of his body, his muscles glided over her flesh and she shuddered in excitement. His lips crushed her own and she leaned into his kiss, pulling him closer. His lips broke away and she caught her breath, his lips teased along her ear and his words hot against her ear. She smiled softly, and gently brushed her fingertips along his jaw. "My handsome Knight.." She mused softly. "Tonight I give myself to you... Goddess and God Blessed... Greymare and Narvashal be damned!" She recited. His words stopped and his actions continued. He moved down her body and his velvet mouth work about her breasts. The soft swells tortured beneath his touch. She gasped, and moaned softly as he traced his tongue about her delicate nipples. The nubs hardening beneath his touch.

The damp, rough material of his britches teased against her bare flesh and she shifted slightly beneath him, nearly writhing as her body began to ache more strongly. After a moment of his torture, and his hands gliding against her body he stopped. Raised up and began to remove his pants. She blushed deeply. He was hard, just as she was wet. He lowered back against her body and Illayna felt the butterflies errupt in her stomach and she tried to ignore it. She was just nervous, but when he spoke.. she could hear the need in his voice and it comforted her. She let her lips to his slowly, sensually. She nipped lightly upon his lower lip. Tugging upon it gently. "Please." She whispered softly. Emabarassed by her own need. "I want you.." She whispered again. "I need to feel you inside of me, my love.." She pleaded to him sweet;y. She was hot, the heat coursed through her body licking at her core like a wild flame. She could barely handle it. Illayna had never felt like this, never had a need so powerful like this before. She was new to this, he knew that.. and he was gentle with her, took his time.

but even she knew control could only go so far, and he'd already admitted she was testing his control. She arched her back against the cloak, and settled her knees to either side of his hips. Letting him comfortably rest in against her body. She trailed her hands down along his sides and up his back. Tracing each muscle, each scar with a delicate touch. She wanted to remember every bit. Though she wondered how far this would change them, would change their goals and their progress she did not mind, she gracefully awaited the outcome of their night together. They would become one, and she was ready for it. Waiting for it.
 
The nip started it, her teeth gently plucking at his lower lip, sending a shiver sliding through his body, enflaming every nerve that it passed. Her words though, they were what tipped it, that scale of control that he’d been balancing on precariously. Spoken so softly, a mere whisper riding the breeze like the flutter of a fairy’s wings, they oozed with emotion and raw physical need. He groaned hard, his body trembling above her, settling in between her legs when she moved them. His rigid shaft now rested squarely on her molten core and with a hard rock of his hips, he glided across her slit, her moisture soaking his skin, arousing him even more. A strangled moan slid from his mouth as he lowered it, teeth pulling a nipple between his lips, scraping across its sensitive sides, giving it a hard rough tug before releasing it. “Fuck” he said his voice now almost a rolling growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. “Illayna, once I’m in you, I won’t be able to hold back.” Another hard rock of his hips almost drove him inside her but he held back, another moan filling the air.

He could feel the warrior rising to the surface, restless and eager, and it finally came rolling out, all hard strong male, seizing his body with a primal force. Rocking against her again, he readied himself to bury his hard shaft inside her heated core when he remembered her current state. She was an acolyte of the Goddess, untouched by man, and he knew he couldn’t take her without preparing her first. Marcus managed to reach deep down inside and still that inner beast, buying precious time to do what came next. Shifting his hips, he pulled back just enough to slip one hand between her legs, his fingers gliding over her moist lips. “This will help ease the sting, Illayna” he growled his voice almost hoarse as he began to move his digits, tracing and touching her inner core before plunging his fingers inside her. As she cried out at the invasion, he began to move them faster and faster, twisting and turning them inside her, stretching her roughly. Her juices were leaking all over his skin, making his movements easier, allowing him to push them in harder and deeper. He felt her barrier, his tips pressing against it, and then leaned forward, his mouth capturing hers in a heated kiss. As his tongue thrust between her lips to stroke against hers, he drew back his fingers and thrust them forward again, breaking through. She gave a small cry that escaped from between their lips but he kept at it. In and out his fingers moved, stretching her, opening her, preparing her. When he finally broke the kiss, he nipped at her lip and grinned.

“I need inside you now” he said, his body hard and ready, wanting her now more than ever. Sliding his fingers from her molten core, he brought them to his lips and slowly sucked her juices clean, his eyes never straying from hers. “Spread your legs, Illayna. Open for me.” The words were followed by the rough grip of his hands grabbing her thighs and spreading them, opening her further. His body trembled with need, anxious to get on with business, and finally he lowered himself back over her. Skin scraped against skin, scarred ridges teasing sensitive nipples, and his teeth found her collarbone, biting again. The soft skin was plucked and pulled until he’d left a mark, staking his claim on her body and soul, and then he did the same to the other side. As his lips moved to her neck, biting and nipping, his hips rocked against hers, drawing a strangled moan from both of them. Finally he could wait no longer and with the help of one hand, he positioned himself at her entrance and drove himself inside it. The thrust was hard and sharp, his cock riding the flow of her moisture until he bottomed out, balls slapping against her ass with an audible smack. His back arched then, pulling away from her, as his hands gripped her cloak hard. “Oh god…” he whispered through clenched teeth, the pleasure of their union driving him nuts. “Mine” he murmured next as his hips flexed, pulling out and pushing back in, the movement rocking them. “Now…” he grunted next, this time thrusting harder and faster. “…and forever.” They were the last words he said then as he lost himself to the pleasure, his body moving against hers with reckless abandon, the slap of their hips crashing together filling the small glen, riding the waves of their grunts and moans. What had started out tender was now heated passion, both man and woman lost to each other, the eyes of the Goddess and her consort watching over them.
 
His warning, was a little late. Illayna could already see, let alone feel the agressive warrior coming through to the surface. His actions a little more lewd, less gentle, his voice a husky growl. He rocked his hips against her and she moaned. Her body trembling beneath him with each rock of his hips and he hadn't even entered her yet. He moved, and she tried to relax a little. Still nervous, but becoming more comfortable. As he dipped his hand between them, she felt his touch and she gasped lightly. Nodding in response, unable to fathom words without begging him to get it over with. He traced and touched and she relaxed more until he suddenly plunged those fingers within her. Illayna cried out at the invasion, her back arched a small bit against that cloak and she felt her body tense as he began to move them, turn them this way and that, forcing her to stretch. She felt resistance, his motions tensed and eased back a bit. He leaned and her mouth met his, that kiss hungry, raw. Then suddenly he shoved his fingers into her again and that resistance broke. Illayna cried out, the pain searing through her. She cringed and writhed just a bit beneath him, wanting to press her thighs and try to ease the pain but he did not cease.

Her nails dug into his back a bit, as she tried to ride through the pain, to let it dull out and fade behind the pleasure. He broke the kiss with a nip at her bottom lip, and though she was tolerant of pain, she knew her eyes had watered, and the tears escaped. She raised her hands to brush her face, his fingers sliding from within her, and he spoke again. This would hurt, inevitably, but surprisingly she still ached for it, yearned to feel him inside of her. "Please.." She whispered, begging him to take her. He told her to spread her thighs, before gripping them himself and spreading them further apart. Illayna had become accustomed to a sweet, Gentle Marcus, though she knew the warrior lived within him, this agressive, rough side of him was new to her, and she liked it.. but it still made her weary. He moved over her, the hardness of his body moving against the softness of her own. The difference between man and woman. She moaned alloud as he teased her nipples, then moved to leave his mark of claim at either side of her collar bone. She'd have difficulties hiding those. "Careful.." She breathed a whisper. Though they were lost in the throes of passion, and lust, they still had to be mindful that all acts of their treason must be kept hidden. No visible marks. He rocked his hips against hers and she whimpered. She could feel her own wetness, the warmth between her thighs. Finally he could take no more, just as she was drawing thin upon her patience, he positioned himself and thrust.

Her hands clutched at his back again, nails biting into the flesh, as the thrust rocked her body, pain. She felt pain as her body was forced to stretch even more to accomidate his girth and the hardness of him. She gasped, writhed beneath him and moaned as he pulled back only to thrust in again. As he thrust, the pain began to dull and the pleasure began to rise. Her wetness aiding in the ease of his thrusts. She could feel it. His words, startled her, the claim.. that forever claim. She was his, and no one elses.. now and forever. Marcus would not leave her. It oddly, reassured her, she relaxed more and her body eased better into the rhythm he set. Her words, moaned and breathless sounded to his ears. " Yours.." She repeated. " Now.. and" She bit back a moan. "Forever." She stated firmly. As he lost himself and his control, Illayna fell into the pleasure, melting beneath him with every powerful thrust of his hips. She cried out, moaned, and rocked her hips against his own as she became more adjusted. The pleasure coursing through her unlike anything before.
 
It was happening so quickly, so forcefully, that the warrior controlled it, driving him into her with force and speed, just like he fought when he was on the battlefield and the lives of his men were at stake. He could feel her body responding, her hips slamming back to meet his as she writhed beneath him, and it brought a grin to his lips. This union of their bodies had been fated, clearly chosen by the Goddess and her mate to happen, but the act itself, the very thoughts, emotions and actions, were all theirs. Illayna’s moans filled the small glen, driven by her overpowering need and the way he sated it, matched equally by his own desire-filled grunts and groans. Marcus had been with a few women before but none had been like his Princess, none as soft and sensuous, nor as beautiful and golden as her. It made this moment special, something that he would remember until the day he died, and when she whispered those three little words, repeating the vow he had given, desire surged harder through his body, skating along his nerves, causing him to buck more inside her.

The feel of her fingernails digging into his skin were the catalyst, that one action that finally broke through, driving a wedge through the red haze of pleasure that had overtaken him. It started slowly but then began to grow, pushing back at the warrior’s control, returning a little bit of his normal everyday self back to Marcus until his mind was finally clear enough to think again. He remembered then that she had been a virgin and would have dueling sensations of pain and pleasure from everything that he did, heightened even more by the way he pounded inside her. That thought alone was enough for him to get a grip on his actions, to slow his thrusts just enough that instead of assaulting her moist passage with abandon he was taking control of it. His movements changed so that he drove into her with long deep measured thrusts now, each one still hard enough to rock their bodies and draw moans, in a possessive “you are mine” kind of way. That very thought elated him, to know that he had found the other half of his soul, and it made what was happening between them that much more powerful, their love for each other lighting the glen, causing the mist to glow.

A light breeze kicked up then, gliding across the bare skin of his back, tickling the droplets of sweat that had begun to pebble to the surface, brought by the strength with which he made love to her. It caused a shiver to wrack his body and he moaned softly, his hips flexing in a circle as he thrust, driving his shaft against her passage differently now, letting her feel more, want more. Two words whispered across his ear then, spoken by an unseen voice, and he listened, absorbing them. “Love her” it said and he knew what it meant; love her now and forever, with all his heart and all his soul. It was a promise that he gladly made, his words unspoken in return, for the flame for her that burned inside him was like a bonfire uncontrolled. He propped himself up on his elbows so he was held just above her, his body lightly touching hers. His gaze bore into hers, eyes locking, and he let that love, that passion, that smoldering heat come to the surface for her to see. “Illayna” he whispered, his mouth leaning down to brush against hers, the word punctuated by a hard sharp thrust. “My love….I burn for you, needing and wanting you now and always. I love you.” He kissed her hard then, lips pressed against lips, taking the taste of her forcefully, willfully, a moan coming out. His tongue slipped into her mouth to brush against hers then just as quickly withdrew, his head pulling back to look at her again. Smiling he did something unexpected then, lowering his body to hers, draping his arms around her and with a sharp roll, reversed their positions, his back on the cloak now and her body on top of his. His hips slammed into her again and again, arms keeping her pinned to him, but then he slowly pulled them away, giving her room to move. “Please, Illayna, love me in return.” With those words, he passed control to her, letting her do to him whatever she wished in this, their first time together, hoping that she would use it to drive them both to bliss.
 
Something finally triggered it for him. It was like something else beneath his surface had risen and taken control. The warrior pushed back, and Marcus returned. She relaxed a little beneath him as he slowed just enough, eased up just enough to make it more comfortable for her, less painful. Illayna relaxed back into the cloak, only moments later to have him lift just slightly, speak her name and punctuate it with a sharp, deep thrust. She gasped, those brilliant green eyes staring up at him as he spoke. His words, passionate, loving, sincere. She smiled softly, a hand gently rose to brush his cheek. "I love you Marcus.." She breathed softly, her next words lost against his lips as he kissed her. She tasted of him, and she savoured the taste of him upon her tongue. then suddenly, he did what she had not in the least expected. He switched the roles, moving her ontop and holding her flush against him as he thrust into her. She gasped and moaned against his lips, her hands clutching the cloak beneath him until he finally released her and gave over control.

She sat up, hands trailing down along his chest as she did so before bracing against his abdomen, she lifted her hips slowly at first, letting them drop back down and take him in inch for inch. Adjusting to the feel of being ontop. "Marcus.. My love.. " She whispered softly, her tone sultry but sweet. "My only need.. my only want.. my only love. Is you. I love you, now and always." She whispered again, leaning down to nip his bottom lip softly and then kiss him sensually before taking advantage of his lack of control. She sat up right again, an arch in her spine to keep the friction as she began to move her hips. Instinct kicked in, as a gentle breeze enveloped her, encouraged her, it warmed against her flesh and filled her body with a sense of pleasure as she began to ride him. Rocking her hips, lifting them and letting them fall heavily against his own. Her walls tightly dragging up and down along his shaft with every movement. Each fall of her hips driving him deeper into her. Her hands caressed up along his chest as she leaned forward only slightly, her eyes watching his as she rode him, slowly increasing pace and the strength of the fall of her hips.

Eventually she sat up completely again, leaned her body back a small ways to fall more comfortably into the rhythm of riding him. She was beginning to enjoy it more and more. The pleasure finally riding out the pain completely, and it began to build, slowly coiling in the pit of her stomach with each rise and fall of her hips against his own. Her hands lightly traced along her own thighs, and up her torso to her breasts. She hadn't any thought nor idea what had come over her, but she desired more of a touch. She toyed, and teased her breasts as she rode him, her moans growing heavier, somewhat louder. "Oh.. Marcus!" She breathed in the throes of pleasure. Lost to everything except this moment, and him. He clouded every sense, every though, every heart beat.. it was all for him, focused on him and filled with him.
 
As he lay on his back, his gaze slid over her nubile form, which glowed from the moonlight that bathed her porcelain skin. She was radiant right then, her hair all tousled and her body flushed, need plainly written on her face. Her words, right before he’d rolled them, had settled into his soul and lightly caressed his heart, bringing his own feelings to the surface and now, gazing upon her beauty, he couldn’t imagine being without her. The union might be guided by the Goddess and her consort but it would not be without its danger, this he knew and this he accepted; no matter how hard the path was that lay before them, together they could win if they wanted that. He knew he wanted her love and wanted peace for their kingdoms; anything beyond that he would take as it came along. Her moans drew him back to the present and he watched as she slowly sat up, his fingers trailing down her smooth thighs, caressing her skin lightly. Her fingers traced down along his chest before bracing against his stomach, giving her the leverage to slowly lift herself and drop back down along his hard shaft.

His back arched slightly at the slow sensual movement, a moan sliding from between his lips, hands holding onto her legs for support. He listened to her words, his gaze never leaving the sparkling emerald of her eyes, lost in them. A smile bloomed on his face when she finished, letting the words fill him like none other before had ever done, his hands gripping her thighs a little tighter at the thought. The kiss caught him by surprise and he returned it, heat roaring to the surface once again, but she was gone before he could taste more, a groan falling from his lips. That groan turned into a moan, followed by others, as Illayna sat back up and began to move, her hips gliding against his sensually and sharply. Though a beginner to the sexual ways of men and women, she was clearly learning fast, her actions becoming more fluid and sure as she moved her hips up and down on him. She was so tight, so moist, that the sensations were bombarding Marcus, dragging pleasure through his nerves and his muscles by force. His ability to stifle his moans had long since failed and they filled the glen, his and hers mingling together just like their bodies were, creating a cacophony of love like no other.

She shifted again then, her body leaning back more, creating a delicious little friction that sent his body into orbit. Lost to the pleasure that pounded inside her, Illayna began to move faster, harder, her hands gliding over her breasts, beginning to play with them. It was an unexpected sight and one that ripped a moan from his mouth, his back arching as he drove his shaft upward, meeting her hips as they crashed down. “Illayna” he breathed, another moan following it “I’m...unnh…god…I’m so close.” He could feel the tendrils of his climax fast approaching, jumping from nerve to nerve as it raced down towards his engorged shaft. Shivers and moans wracked his body, sweat breaking out over his chest, and in that moment, he did what came natural, reaching out and pulling her down, retaking control. His arms wrapped around her back as his lips found hers, the kiss crushing, passion and heat all rolled into one. Bending his legs at the knees, he increased his leverage and began to move, his hips flexing hard, fast, driving him into her again and again. One hand slid up and claimed her hair, fingers sliding into her golden tresses and gripping it, pulling back on her head. The minute their lips separated, Marcus let out a strangled groan and leaned forward, his lips finding her neck. Mindful to not leave a mark, he simply nipped at it, light little grazes against her skin as his hips slammed into hers repeatedly and with loving force. It hit him then, that climax of all climaxes, bowing his back and ripping his lips from her neck. “Illayna….” he almost screamed as one last thrust tipped him up and over the edge, his orgasm washing over him, causing his hot seed to pour forth, spurt after spurt flowing into her.
 
Illayna fought to maintain control upon her body, and she was quickly losing that control with every rise of his hips and fall of her own. Driving the pleasure through her body. She rocked her hips down against him, his hands upon her thighs warm and enticing. Illayna had never thought of the day she would give her body up, least not without marriage. It was blasphemy for her body to be touched by any man, but with Marcus it felt right, she knew this was right. This was meant to be. With every motion her body trembled, the pleasure coiled, and her heart fluttered. The passion, the lust, the need, the love.. all of it simmered within her, and finally she could take no more. "I...mn.." she couldn't get the words out. The pleasure crashed through her, her body trembled. Just as she began to come, Marcus had cried out that he was close, and had once again taken control. his arms tightly held her to him and his heavy thrusts slammed up into her, forcing her to ride out her own orgasm. Her walls fluttering, tightening around him. The pleasure unlike anything she'd felt before.

Her mouth crushed to his in that kiss, the taste of him savored upon her tongue until their lips broke away and his strangled moans filled her ears. His hand gripped in her hair and tugged her head back, she canted her head, his lips at her throat. He practically screamed her name then and she cried out as he thrust into her, his warmth suddenly flooding her. She could feel the thick, heady seed coating her, filling her. She suddenly felt foot, and relieved. Her body sated, the afterglow washing over her, and the euphoria of the pleasure settling in upon her body. "Marcus..." She breath his name, a whisper of pleasure and loving adoration as she leaned down and nuzzled into him. Her lips caressing along his neck ad jaw to his lips. She kissed him softly, gently nipping his bottom tier. He had showed Illayna something unlike anything she'd ever known or felt, and it brought her closer to him. Made her one with him, and she could ask for nothing more. With this moment, this night... she knew, no matter the cost, no matter the hardships they were in this together, and she would work for him, with him, to bring peace to their kingdoms despite the dangers that would inevitably lay in their path.

"I love you.." She whispered breathlessly, her heart still racing, her blood pounding, but her body was tired, and sore her soul alight with every emotion. She rests against him completely. Her body trembling. She knew, come dawn, the dull aches she felt now would be more prominant, and she'd likely be bruised in places she'd never really thought to be bruised, and would likely be stiff. But she wouldn't have it any other way. She wouldn't have given herself to any other man, than her sweet, loving Marcus.
 
Stars, all he could see was stars, those twinkling little lights that danced before his eyes, not the ones that existed up in the darkened sky. They dazzled him, dancing here and there each one drawing his attention from one moment to the next. As his body slowly settled down from what was arguably the most intense orgasm of his young life, Marcus slowly came back to his senses, the lights blinking out one by one until all he could see was lovely Illayna. She leaned down, breathing his name on her very lips, her face nuzzling in against him and his hands slowly slid around her waist then traveled up her back to caress her golden tresses. His breath was still coming hard and fast, pure testament to the love that they had shared, their bodies now slick with sweat among other things. The light mist of the waterfall continued to flow across the glade, now a perfect gift wrapping for the magic they had created. His eyes closed and he shivered as she kissed his neck, jaw and lips, gently claiming them for herself in a moment that was both tender and romantic, his body melting under her touch.

When she pulled her head away and gazed into his eyes, he was lost…lost to her, lost to their love, and lost to their cause. Those three little words, when spoken from her heart, sent a molten bolt of lightning skating along his nerves until it settled in his soul, warming him from the inside out. His fingers left her hair and glided around to gently trace her cheeks and jaw, his touch a light caress as he tried to memorize her every feature and curve, a smile slowly blooming on his face. “I love you too, Illayna. More than I could ever imagine.” They had consummated that love in this peaceful and secure glen, under the watchful eye of the Goddess and her consort, and Marcus knew it would now be their spot. A safe haven for them to retreat to when things became dangerous, perhaps even a place to bind their hands in marriage if they survived that long. A sudden image of the two of them, walking through the glen with a little girl between them, each holding one of her hands, suddenly flashed through his mind and his eyes widened in surprise. He studied Illayna, trying to gauge if she’d seen the same thing, but when he couldn’t tell, he kept it to himself. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, not a portent for the future after all.

As he held her, simply basking in the feel of her body against his, a sound came to him. It was the simple snap of a twig, off near the edge of the glen, but it was enough to bring the warrior in him to full attention. With a sharp, unexpected roll, he spun them off the cloak and separated from her. His hand snatched it up and tossed it her way before he sprinted across the ground to the edge of the waterfall, retrieving their swords and returning to her side. He was in his pants before he could blink then stood facing the edge of the glen, sword now out of its sheath. It was the simple snap of a twig but to his experienced fighting mind, it was a threat that could not be ignored, not when he had the Princess of Greymere at his side. He began to move softly towards it, his eyes and ears scanning the edge, listening, searching, waiting. When the voice called out, he froze immediately, the sword dropping slightly. “Cedric, is that you?” he answered, his voice echoing through the glen. “Approach slowly, with your hands out where I can see them.” Though he trusted Cedric, he had no idea if he was here of his own free will or coerced by others and he wasn’t taking any chances.

The branches rustled some more and then Cedric stepped into view, his body fully armored, hands out at his side. The pommel of a sword peeked over his shoulder but he made no move to grab it, his eyes studying Marcus first and then, beyond him, Illayna. A smile quirked at his lips and he held it there for a moment before turning serious again. “Marcus, Illayna, we have a problem. Your help is needed immediately.” Marcus slowly backed up until he was standing next to Illayna and studied Cedric. “How did you know we were here, Cedric?” he asked his voice cautious now. Had they been followed? Just then, the air between the three of them seemed to ripple and take form drawing all of their attention towards it. When it solidified into the shape of the Goddess, Marcus gasped. Her gaze turned towards him and she smiled. “I led him here, Sir Knight and Lady Acolyte, just as I protected the two of you during your union. Your kingdoms need you now. Listen to Cedric and do as he bids. Lives depend on it.” With that the Goddess was gone, leaving his second to explain. “Lord Aquitaine has lost it, Marcus. He’s taken a contingent of soldiers to the Greymere camp, intent on storming it in retaliation for the men you killed. I tried to stop him but there were too many so I gathered all the soldiers loyal to you and sent word to Sir Richard alerting him. Your men are ready Marcus but they need you to lead them.” Glancing at Illayna, he gave a brief bow. “My lady, I will get you to your camp safely if you will trust me. I see now that you are right for Marcus and his vision, your vision, is best for our kingdoms. I would be proud to assist you in this cause.” He waited then, letting the silence of the glen wrap around them, trusting in Marcus and Illayna to do the right thing.
 
Illayna laid against him, basking in his warmth as they simply relaxed. She could hear the whispers in the dark, feel the gentle breeze sliding along her spine. Teasing those ivory lines that marked her flesh. The symbol of Acolyte forever etched upon her flesh, and holding her closer to the Goddess than any could even ever begin to dream. No acolyte before her, had come in contact with the Goddess as close as Illayna had, in times perhaps personifying her. In silence they rested just enjoying each others presence until suddenly Marcus threw them over, pulling from her and standing. Illayna was quick to her feet and fumbled to catch the cloak, wrapping it about her body like a towel and holding it in place with one hand as he quickly bound off to retrieve their weapons. She took her sword from him and slid it from it's sheath, the alabaster blade sang clearly as it was drawn, the blade arched high at the ready as Marcus called out. Though he was eager to lower the edge of his sword even a notch, Illayna held hers high. She was a mess, honey curls tousled and tangled, her body drenched in sweat and water from the mist, and even though she had the cloak to hide her, she could feel the combination of their fluids dripping down her thighs and bringing a crimson blush to her cheeks. "Cedric?" She questioned as he stepped forth. She lowered her sword, trusting the man nearly as much as she trusted Marcus. To her he had a good heart, and soul. Though she was certain it was the Goddess and her concubine who influenced this sense of trust.

The man stepped forth, fully armored and his eyes studied the two of them, Illaynas blush intensifying. Marcus made the first question, one that brought a strong point, but as the air began to ripple, Illayna settled in at Marcus' side and gently held a hand over his to stay his sword. The Goddess appeared and her voice rang throughout the glen. Melodic, and with an ethereal lilt. Illayna listened, Illayna spoke not, she waited for Cedric to speak his peace and she nodded firmly. " Right. " She then glanced to Marcus. " It seems the witching hour has come." She spoke softly. "Sooner than even I expected." She sheathed her sword and started towards Cedric, a sudden air of regal seemed to come about her. She walked with a confident stride and sway, much like a princess, but something a little more. She had a bit of warrior in her herself, it was the backbone in which her mother had insisted Illayna be raised. With the will to raise her sword and fight if so be it. "If you can take me to Richard, Cedric, I can have my fathers men ready to assist you in no time if he hasn't already done so. You can trust Richard, as you would trust me." She glanced back to Marcus one last time, an image stayed fast in her mind, a memory that was not quite a memory. The soft sounds of laughter, and the bubbling stream. A little girls smile, and her sweet, melting laugh. She smiled some, though she prayed they lived long enough to experience that moment for real.

She moved quickly to her clothes, and began to collect them. Slipping them on whilst using the cloak to hide herself in the process. She unwrapped it from beneath her still slightly damp tunic, and belted her pants tightly, fastening her sword to her hip she slipped on her boots and laced them tight, draping the cloak back over her shoulders she didn't bother to tuck in the tunic, or mess with the fiery mane of honey curls that framed her face in a tousled mess. "We have to go now. Time is too precious to waste my love.." She addressed Marcus. Moving back to him swiftly for a moment, and though her body felt stiff and sore, she moved with fluid motions. Her hand cupped his jaw and she stole a kiss from his lips. "Be Safe, My knight..." my king she whispered beneath her breath, for someday, should they live through this and their dream envisioned come to life.. it would rightfully be his title. She would make sure of it. She gazed up into his eyes for a moment, her own brilliant hues shimmered, they rippled as if something had skimmed just beneath their surface. The pale gold of the Goddess' eyes glinted just in the iris of her own.

Without another word she turned then and made haste back towards Cedric, and across the glen. "Please, we must hurry. " It was wrong, for a woman to lead an army, it was wrong, for a woman to brandish a sword, at least it was for a woman of Illaynas stature, but in these years, unbeknownst to most, her father was ill, though he stood tall, and strong in appearance, he was brittle and weak. She could trust he would armour and mount to lead his men against the rise of Aquitaine, but he would surely fall and Illayna could not allow for that. Her father was all she had left of her family and she would lose him, like she had lost the others, to that twisted Lord Aquitaine.
 
Marcus stood dumbstruck, the sounds of the glen fading into the background, replaced by an eerie buzz that filled his head. Cedric’s words were hard to believe, beyond insane even, and the High Knight found it impossible to grasp them at first. Had it not been his second who delivered the news or the Goddess who confirmed it, he would have dismissed what he’d heard as the act of a prank gone overboard. Knowing it was true though had stunned him, frozen his mind in place for a moment, his eyes simply blinking at the absurdity of it. Aquitaine had truly gone over the edge, at least temporarily, if he was leading a force of Narvashal soldiers against the Greymere camp. Not only would he be breaking the truce if he attacked but he would also set off a full scale battle between the two kingdoms that could only end in massive bloodshed the likes of which Aurelian had never seen in its past.

It was Illayna that spoke first, her witching hour comment snapping him out of his daze, his mind roaring back to the present with the force of a cracked bullwhip. He turned, watching as she strode forward, her back straight and her head held high, the soul of the Princess inside her shining free, despite the cloak wrapped around her lithe frame. She spoke quickly with Cedric, agreeing to go with him to her camp, and then turned, her gaze locking with his. All the love and desire that they had shared was still there in her emerald eyes but now it was joined with a fierce determination and strength of will to do what was right. When she moved to gather her clothes and change into them, he did the same, slipping into his boots and sliding his shirt on over his moist chest, adding the vest at the last minute. His weapons were quickly strapped here and there and his sword slipped back over his shoulder where it rested in its sheath. Soon he was back at her side, and when her hand cupped his jaw, his eyes closed to half lids, savoring the kiss she placed against his lips, memories of earlier resurfacing. “We can stop this Illayna, prevent the bloodshed before it starts. Our cause has the support of the Goddess after all; it will not end tonight before it even starts.” They were bold words, words meant to ease her fears, but he truly believed them. They could do this, would do this; the lives of two kingdoms depended on it.

He followed her then each reaching Cedric’s side at the same moment and with an unspoken agreement, they fled the little glen and the magic that watched over them. As the darkness of the forest closed in around the three, Marcus wondered what the next few hours would bring, worry for his love and his kingdom heavy in his heart. Led by pale line of moonlight they finally emerged at the edge of town to find three horses saddled nearby. He reached for her then, pulling his love into his arms, and claiming a fierce kiss. Heart pounding when he finally pulled away, his teeth nipping at her lip, he grinned. “We will survive this night, my love” he murmured softly, his gaze locked with hers. “Of that, you have my promise.” His words done, he stroked his fingers across her cheek and then turned to Cedric, giving him a nod. “Lead her safely, Cedric and then find high ground with a clear view. I want your bow in play as soon as you can get there. If things get ugly, aim to wound but not kill, is that understood?” Cedric slapped his fist against his armored chest and gave a curt nod, then turned and climbed aboard his horse. As soon as Illayna was up also, they galloped off, angling for the Greymere camp.

The High Knight climbed aboard Ariana next, leaning down to stroke her neck gently. “Old girl” he whispered in her ear “I think things are about to get interesting.” With that he kicked her into motion, sending her pounding through the streets towards the Narvashal camp where the troops loyal to him waited. Wandering pedestrians scattered from his path, aware of an urgency that they didn’t understand, and soon he pulled up in front of their main gate. Sir Regan hailed him immediately, stepping from the shadows of the camp, his hand near his sword. “Sir Marcus, we are ready and awaiting your orders. We are fifty strong, my lord.” Marcus sat up straight in the saddle at that news, surprised by the total number that was loyal to him instead of their High Lord. “How many did he take, Regan?” he asked, dreading the news that he would hear. “Eighty knights, sir, and ten more archers.” The numbers drew a groan from Marcus and he shivered where he sat then slowly wrapped a cloak of strength around him. “Saddle the men, Regan and let’s get out of here.” A battle cry rose from within the camp and soon the sounds of thundering hooves could be heard as Marcus and his force took to the streets.

Slicing through alleys and down broad lanes, he scattered his forces, wanting to completely surround Aquitaine and the men he’d brought with him. As they got closer to the Greymere camp, he could hear the shouts of battle cries and pushed Ariana harder, closing the distance as quickly as he could, Regan at his side. As they entered the open field surrounding the opposing kingdom’s camp, the High Knight’s eyes widened. The sight before him was nothing short of a blood thirsty mob that knew no rules; Narvashal troops had dispersed into skirmish lines and already drawn their weapons, facing off against an equally armed and charged group of Greymere knights. He could hear Sir Richard’s bold voice barking orders among his men and his third in command doing the same in their group. Things were ugly and about to get worse, a point that became clear when he heard his Lord’s voice. It was shrill and angry, raised as loud as it could get, the vindictive man ordering his men to advance. Just then another sound rang through the field, that of more horses arriving on the scene. Marcus turned to see the High King’s troops ride in on their flank, weapons also drawn. Sir Regan leaned over and spoke to him, his voice soft and sure. “If you’re going to do something, sir, now would be the time.”

Marcus gave a sharp nod and surged ahead, slicing his horse through the High King’s troops, scattering them left and right. He did the only thing he could think of then, driving his horse right down the middle of the opposing forces, his voice ringing clear. “In the name of all that is right and good” he bellowed as he brought his horse around, stopping squarely in the middle of the battleground “stop this insanity now!” He drew his sword and pointed it at his Lord, aware that at any moment an arrow could strike him down. “Lord Aquitaine, do not do this. I beg of you. Truce will be broken and men will die, all for nothing. Be the leader you used to be and stop this now.” They were bold words, fighting words, and he knew that his days would be numbered after this but if they got the man’s attention, then so be it. Lord Aquitaine glared at him, stalking forward on his horse, and pointed his own sword in return. “Get out of my way, Marcus. I claim retribution for the death of two of your men…at the hands of that infamous witch!” The last was bellowed as he pointed across the way, turning Marcus’s head. He saw her then, standing tall among her people, her flowing hair glowing. Their eyes locked from across the distance but then he turned back and faced him. “That is a lie, my lord” he said, his voice rising for all to hear. “I know this because those men died by my hand.” A collective gasp could be heard then, on both sides of the line, and Marcus gathered his strength. He knew his words would be a shock to all but what he had to say next would be even worse. “If you persist in this stupidity, my lord, you will not simply be fighting with Greymere. Look around you, see what you face. You are surrounded, Lord Aquitaine, by the High King’s troops on one side and men loyal to me on your others. Unless you want this war to end through the death of yourself and most of our men, this ends now.” With that, Marcus simply waited, wondering what would happen next.
 
Illayna moved swiftly with purpose through the thinly illuminated trail, only to be snatched up by Marcus as they reached the edge. His arms strongly about her and his mouth hungrily upon her own. She kissed him back fiercly, strongly. She smiled brightly. 'I expect to see you bright and Early, My Knight. We have a lot to discuss." She answered to his promise. Only to quickly move to her appointed horse then and mount quickly. Following Cedric back towards camp. She slipped through the gate and was greeted by the hurried words of her chamber maid. She parted ways with Cedric then, with heavy thanks in her heart. Dismounting momentarily, she stood stark still in assist to the maid who quickly fastened bits of armor to Illaynas body with well practiced hands. They'd done this before, each time her father called for it. To prepare her for the day battle may meet their doorstep, and today was only the first.

She Urged the maid back to safety and remounted the horse, sword hanging heavily at her hip, she cared less for the wild mane of honey curls that framed her face as she rode to meet Richard and the rest of the men. She sat tall, and proud upon that saddle, as she approached the worried commander. "My lady, your father was escorted out of camp as soon as word came to us. We did not expect you to return here. " He looked upon her with knowing eyes, she had too much to risk, but Illayna would not leave her men without a beacon of hope. "We still have hope, Richard. Aquitaine will be stopped.. but no one Kingdom will rule the other." He looked at her then, weariness upon his features. "Such dreams Illayna.." "Are supported by the Goddess!" She snapped. He visibly flinched. Unknowing that Illayna had recieved more than she bargained for with the role of Acolyte. "Marcus and his men are on their way, we must assist them, all threats to Aquitaine should be meant to wound not kill. If he dies.. it will be by my hand or his own."

Richard nodded solemnly, in no position to argue her command. They rode out to meet the men in battle. The scene laid out before her was heart breaking, the battle cries rang in her ears. She listened as they dulled to her senses. Her eyes narrowing on Aquitaine and the memories flooded her. Reminding her of all the wrong he'd done, of all the blood he'd shed. Illayna let a deep and heavy sigh, only to glance once and meet eyes with Marcus. They held gaze for a moment before he strode forth to meet his Lord in the midst of battle. Illayna steered her horse forward. Her men parting from her path, those who could at least. Her sword drawn, it's alabaster blade glistening in the mood light from tip to pummel, the hilt adorned with the wings of the Goddess, and a stone of deep onyx. She focused upon the two men, Richard flanking her, protecting her from any unseen hand that might do her harm. She raised her blade to Aquitaine. "Heed his words and desist. Aquitaine, or die by my hand." Her words came cold, an eerie steel to her voice.

"The Goddess frowns upon your vision of dominance, she weeps for what you've done. She weeps for the loss of both our peoples, our brothers, and sons. She calls for the mothers, the daughters, sisters..destroyed by our hands. Lastly, she calls to us to fix this. To stop this madness!" She paused her words then, letting them sink in. "Keep in mind, she does not favor you this night Aquitaine, and if your death is what will bring a greater vision to our peoples, then let a new King rise in your steed, and come face me." Marcus might of had a different plan, but Illayna was battling several influencing emotions. The will of the Goddess, the Will of her Father, and her own warring demons. She hated Aquitaine for all he'd done to her, she hated Aquitaine for the innocent lives he took.. and she hated herself, for the lives of Narvashal people her own men had taken by their royal command. She wanted Aquitaine to stand down, to heed Marcus' words, to cease this insanity and return to his camp.. but if he refused to do so, she would gladly teach him a thing or two.. granted it would come with heavy assistance of both his and her own men.
 
The tension in the air was thick and Marcus could feel the sweat begin to roll down his face, driven from his pores by adrenaline and just a little bit of fear. Though he’d fought numerous battles in his life as a knight, and taken his fair share of souls, the waiting and anticipation never got easier. His hands itched to act, to charge into the men in front of him, slicing them down where they sat; that was the blood lust talking though and he knew that so he held his ground, his hands opening and closing out of reflex. Aquitaine’s face was livid, the redness spreading across his cheeks and down his neck, his anger clearly rising fast. His earlier words to his horse came to mind then and Marcus could only smile. Things were about to get interesting indeed. His eyes scanned the row of men in front of him, making eye contact with all that stood in the front row, letting them see that he was willing to fight for this. They were his men, had fought under his command for years, but right now they stood on the wrong side of the line. Perhaps a few of them would step aside, lay down their arms if they knew how much he cared about this; it was the only hope he had if he wanted to save lives. If they charged, it would get ugly fast and Marcus would be caught squarely in the middle.

He heard a rustle behind him and sensed movement in the Greymere camp but he didn’t look to see what it was, didn’t take his eyes off the enemy in front of him despite the cautionary itch that crawled up his back. When her words rang out, booming across the clearing, the challenge was clear in her voice. It caught him so off guard that he actually jerked around in the saddle, his eyes widening. Die by her hand? One part of his brain recoiled at that, knowing that the words would only inflame things more, but the other part of his brain swelled with pride at the strength and determination she displayed. His eyes searched her face for a moment, checking to see if it was a bluff, but it was all to clear that she had every intention of following through on her threat should the need arise. He couldn’t blame her of course; his Lord had made an attempt on her life and now threatened her men. In her shoes, he’d probably do the same. Turning back towards Aquitaine, wanting to keep him in sight, he listened as Illayna continued speaking. The words were inspired and passionate, evoking emotion and calling the Goddess into play, a move that he thought was brilliant, not to mention true. When she finally finished speaking, he could hear a low murmur pass through the troops in front and back and a grin slid into place.

“Listen to her words, my lord” he said, his voice pitched so that many could hear it. “This vendetta isn’t worth it, not when it’s built on a lie. I’ve already told you my blades killed those men, striking them down before they could do the same to my friend. I would do it again in a heartbeat.” He paused then, gathering his breath and stealing another quick look around. The battle cries had settled but no one had broken from their ranks just yet. “Look around, Lord Aquitaine. Three forces oppose you and combined our numbers are larger. Go through with this and it doesn’t end well or back off and return to camp, living to fight another day. It’s your call.” Lord Aquitaine stared at him for a long moment then looked over his shoulder at Illayna. Finally he clucked his heels against his horse and trotted it forward, closing the distance with Marcus. The High Knight tensed but didn’t move, his sword staying at the ready. Stopping a mere few feet away, Lord Aquitaine stared at his high knight, the anger wafting off of him in waves. Leaning forward, he kept his voice level, pitched low. “You play a dangerous game, Knight” he said, purposely dropping the word High from his title, a grave insult in normal times but one that Marcus could ignore. “You think you have the upper hand right now but mark my words, this is not over by any means. Peace will not happen while I lead Narvashal and you will answer for your crimes when you return to camp.” Marcus simply watched his Lord, his eyes studying his face.

Leaning forward himself, his hand still on the sword, he smiled grimly. “Be careful what you say, my lord. Fifty of those troops out there have shown allegiance to me and I’d wager to say there are a few more in your group that might cross sides now that the Goddess is involved. Do you really want to test the fates and split our troops in two? I think not.” He glanced back at Illayna briefly, his eyes shining bright, and then turned back to Aquitaine. “If you desist and back away now, I will gladly submit to whatever punishment you demand within the privacy of our camp. Mark my words though – make another move on Sir Cedric’s life and I will react the same way again. Now, make a choice, do the smart thing. End this standoff and return to camp without any loss of life.” The two men studied each other for a hard moment, unspoken thoughts and emotions flashing between them, but finally the Lord sat up and glanced back at his men. Raising his fist in the air, he raised his voice and bellowed for all to hear. “Sir Marcus, High Knight of Narvashal, has confessed to the murder of two of his own knights. By Kingdom law, he will be punished in our camp at dawn tomorrow. Let all of you be his witness to this.” A roar rose from the ranks of Narvashal soldiers at this news but Marcus couldn’t tell if it was in favor or against the judgment.

As Lord Aquitaine began to turn his horse around, he suddenly stopped and stared at Princess Illayna, his sword tip coming up. “You are an abomination of the greatest kind” he said, his voice full of hatred. “Tempting noble men with your wiles and wearing the cloth of battle while aspiring to be an acolyte? I think not. You are a spawn of the devil and I will not fail the second time.” His words were laced with venom and Marcus stiffened next to him, his gaze flicking to Illayna before moving back. Had Aquitaine just admitted to ordering the previous attempt on her life? Marcus believed he had but no one that could prove it had heard so it was a mute point. He briefly wondered what Illayna’s reaction to the words was but before he could turn and see, his Lord galloped back to his men, immediately being swallowed up by the group. That should have been the end then but instead a battle cry rang out and one Narvashal man broke from his ranks, charging straight for Illayna. Marcus never had time to react, couldn’t even move to stop him, but it didn’t matter. The hum of an flying arrow sounded on the air and the soldier fell, a fletching buried deep in his shoulder. Cedric had held to his word, taken high ground and dropped the man in his tracks, and Marcus had to smile. Pointing his sword at the two closest men, he barked at them. “You, pick him up and turn back.” Standing in his saddle, he raised his voice for all to hear. “Narvashal troops, here me. Return to camp now and await further orders.” That did the trick as the men began to turn and gallop out of the clearing, the thunder of the horse’s hooves filling the air. Soon, only Marcus’s troops were left, along with the High King’s men, and he turned his horse to face the Greymere camp. Staring into Illayna’s eyes, he smiled and briefly nodded his head. Turning his gaze to Sir Richard next, he thumped his chest and then turned, leading his men back to camp, wondering what his fate would be the next day.
 
Illayna narrowed her eyes upon Aquitane at his last spoken words, the bruises that littered her body from the events of two nights before began to ache, and sting against her flesh. A reminder of the attempt already made upon her life. She itched to grip the rains, and just as she was about to urge her steed forward and perhaps drive against Aquitane while his back was turned, a man broke ranks and charged forward in an attempt to attack her. Illayna raised her blade just as the steed stomped the earth and reared back, but Cedric had retaliated faster and the man tumbled to the earth at the feet of her steed, wounded but not dead. She sheathed her blade and glanced back to Marcus. She was teeming, that bit was obvious, but with anger.. not pride. She turned her horse around and with Richard and Aeros guarding her back she headed back to camp. As they moved beyond the gate a generous amount of men took their positions on guard and began the rounds of duty that would fall through for the remaining weeks of festival.

Richard gained pace with Illayna and eyed her much like her father would. "You weren't in camp.. you knew you werent supposed to leave, where were you?" "I was out for a walk, Cedric found me as soon as things went sour. Nothing to worry about. Send word for my father to return, and we will discuss this matter in the morning. For now I am tired. " She then halted her horse and motioned to Aeros to come forth. Richard continued on ahead. She glanced around a small sum before issuing his order. "Aeros, I want you to round up three others, and keep an eye on the Narvashal camp. If any harm, and I mean threatening harm, is to come to Marcus.. you alert me straight away." The man, slightly confused, nodded. Illayna was determined. If Aquitaine meant to do her love harm, she would kill him. She would see to it without a doubt, that if any harm came to Marcus, Aquitane would pay. She Dismounted shortly after and the stable hand took the steed away. She escaped to her tent, avoiding anymore confrontations from anyone else.

Once within she slowly began to disassemble her armor. Sliding it off and setting it upon it's proper post. She ached, from head to toe. From the bruises of the fight a night before... to the bruises of her coupling with Marcus. Pitched her sword against the edge of her bedroll, and grabbed a towel. Slipping off to the bathhouse she relaxed in a hot steamy bath. Cleaning her body of the blood, sweat, and dirt of the day. The last bit of their love making had felt so good ,that she hadn't noticed the blood upon her thighs from the taking of her innocence. She leaned her head back on the edge of the tub, and closed her eyes. Remembering the memory.. that was not quite yet a memory. Her mind recalling the little girl, with her curling auburn hair, and her brilliant eyes. The brightness of her smile and the laughter... oh the laughter it filled Illaynas heart and she smiled. Was it just wishful thinking? Or perhaps she'd been gifted a promise of the future shall they succeed. They would succeed, nothing was going to stop them.
 
As he watched the Narvashal troops gallop from the clearing, Marcus sighed with relief, his body sagging a bit in the saddle. They had averted a disaster that night but he knew it was only temporary. Clearly, Lord Aquitaine was slowly losing it, using every opportunity he could find to bring the war to Aurelian, despite the truce both kingdom’s signed. It could only lead to trouble of the worst kind and if they spilled blood here, the High King’s own troops would get involved. They had ridden into the clearing when they’d learned of the disturbance that was occurring but they’d clearly been under orders to withhold action until an attack occurred. Personally, Marcus would have handled it differently but he understood the High King’s reasoning. Although “united” under one High King, the kingdoms acted autonomously for the most part. It had worked that way for millennia and the High King saw no reason to change it. Little did he know that others might have other ideas.

Glancing one last time at the Greymere gates, he saw Illayna disappear through them and remembered well the righteous anger she had displayed. His love had a fiery spirit inside her and the very thought made him smile wide. If that vision of his came true one day, he knew that little girl would have the fiercest protector in all the lands and it wouldn’t be him. The sound of a galloping horse drew his attention to the left and he saw Cedric approach, having come from the direction of the High King’s troops. He pulled Ariana to a stop and waited for him, raising his hand in greeting. “Wonderful shot, my friend” he said when Cedric was in hearing distance. “You averted disaster for sure.” Cedric shook his head. “I don’t know about that. I think that woman of yours would have split that idiot open like a piece of ripe fruit.” Marcus shook with laughter and then motioned towards the other troops. “What’s their stance, Cedric?” His second glanced back and then frowned. “About what you’d expect. They will keep a very close eye on the two camps and intervene if it gets out of hand; otherwise, its neutrality per normal.” The High Knight nodded and prodded his horse forward, getting lost in his thoughts for a moment. The extra scrutiny could be a good thing and a bad thing in his mind but there was little he could do about it.

The two men rode in silence then, following on the heels of the men loyal to Marcus, all of them heading back towards camp and the interesting moments that lay ahead of them. Confessing to the murders of his two knights had been necessary in Marcus’s mind but in the end it had done little to sway Aquitaine’s opinion of Illayna. For whatever reason, the man had fixated on her and would not stop until one of them was dead, of that he was sure. Tomorrow he would face his judgment day, as meted out by Lord Aquitaine’s orders, and there was no telling what those would be, though it was clear that they would hurt. He’d challenged his Lord enough to guarantee that without a doubt but perhaps he could negotiate with him before the time came. After all, Marcus now controlled a large part of the Narvashal force and there was no telling how many of the men stationed outside the city would follow him vs. Aquitaine. It gave him a measure of power that he would use wisely when the time came. They reached the Narvashal gates and passed through, both men leading their horses to the stables and then moving towards Marcus’s tent. Inside, Marcus quickly stripped and slid into a night shirt, his body wearing from the day. First it had been the tournament then the coupling with Illayna in the glen – a memory that would live with him forever – and finally the standoff at the Greymere camp. He wanted nothing more than to rest before tomorrow and with a nod, he bid Cedric good night and retired to his slumber.

No dreams came to him that night and he awoke refreshed, rolling out of bed and quickly dressing. His first order of business was a meal but then he headed straight for Aquitaine’s tent, pushing his way through the guards until he was inside. The Lord stood when he entered, anger filling his face immediately and he pointed at Marcus. “How dare you barge in here uninvited, knight. Get out and pray that you live to see tomorrow when I’m done with you.” Marcus stood his ground, his own anger rising, and simply shook his head. “Insult me all you want, my lord, but the fact remains that I am still your High Knight. You can remove me from that post but I don’t think you are quite that stupid. I control enough of our troops now to devastate our camp and turn the tide of this war. Don’t give those men a reason to do it and you just might stay alive long enough to keep fighting your petty little battles. Mark my words though, I will fight you ever step of the way.” They were bold words, words meant to drive a knife deep into the man’s heart, and they worked. Aquitaine slammed his hand down on the table and rushed around it, coming face to face with Marcus, spittle flying from his lip. Marcus simply met him with a sardonic stare, letting the truth of what he said sink in. When it did, it was obvious as Aquitaine took a step back, his eyes narrowing. “40 lashes to the back, my High Knight. Twenty per man that you killed. That is your punishment that will be meted out this morning at dawn. Your back will be so scarred when it is done, your little slut of a Princess will not want to look at you, much less touch you. Are you brave enough to accept your punishment?” Marcus swallowed, steeling himself inside, and gave a sharp nod. “I will meet you at the punishment block in half an hour, my lord” he said. With that he turned and stepped from the tent, worry seeping into his bones.

Forty lashes would destroy him, wound him so badly that he might never fight again, but if it helped bring about peace then he would gladly accept it. As he moved between the tents, he was hailed and turning, he saw Cedric hurrying forward. “Marcus, a rooftop sentry loyal to us has reported the sighting of four men, believed to be Greymere soldiers. They are keeping watch on the camp but making no move to do anything else. What are your orders?” Marcus considered the matter, a ghost of a smile sliding across his face; it was obvious who had sent them. “Let them stand their watch but get word to Illayna immediately. No matter what happens this morning, she is to do nothing. Do you hear me, Cedric? Nothing. Impress upon her my wishes, do whatever it takes. My punishment will be 40 lashes and I will take them like a man and do my part for peace. If she tries to stop this, she will make things worse. You have to convince her of that.” Cedric had paled at the news of the punishment but finally gave a nod. “May the Goddess be with you, my friend” he said before he turned and hurried from the camp, leaving Marcus alone to contemplate his future. Raising his gaze to the sky, he closed his eyes and said a quick prayer, wanting nothing more than peace in his soul to help him get through this.
 
Illayna went the night in a soundless sleep. She woke in the early hours of the morning and avoided the idea of food. The smell of it only irritating her, she'd worried herself near to death over what Aquitane might do to Marcus. She dressed in a simple blue dress. The silver embroidering simple and neat. She moved towards her fathers tent quietly. She stopped just outside the entrance, she could hear the words being crossed inside. She winced, hearing her name and she quietly slipped inside. "Father?" She called quietly, his words became whispered and a moment later, Erik pushed beyond her exiting the tent with a sly smile flashed in her direction. She bowed her head some and proceeded forward. Her father sighed heavily and sat back in his chair. Glancing up to her with worry in his eyes, a strong doubt she had come all too familiar with in him these past few years. He doubted very much he could keep this war up much longer. "You did a brave thing, dear heart.." He said softly, as Illayna moved to kneel beside him. "That man, he was Narvashals High Knight?" Illayna nodded softly as his hand came to cup her cheek.

"Brave souls." He whispered again and kissed the top of her head. "So.. this goal for peace.. does the Goddess truly stand by it?" "She more than stands by it father, it is her wish, and it is her will. I can but only carry out her will my Father.. if I fail.." "The only thing standing in your way is Aquitane... Illayna I have faith in you. where my will and my strength is fading yours is growing strong. This alliance you have with the High Knight and his followers is Striking, Richard has even vouched for him. You have quite frankly my dear driven a very dangerous rift in the ranks of Narvashals men. " He chuckled and patted her head before sighing heavily again. "I don't want to wage an all out war father, but Aquitane is a devilish man, who can not see beyond his ways. I fear for those who might support the peace amongst his ranks." "As do we all Illayna, but we can only do so much. Go now, and prepare to head into the city. I hear there are an array of merchants in the Market this day, with plenty of interesting things that might appeal to you dear. Just.. try to enjoy what time of peace we are alotted." Illayna nodded. Rose to her feet and kissed the top of his head.

She was to spend the day with a two man escort out in the city enjoying herself like the rest of the Greymere nobles. She retrieved her cloak and laced it over her shoulders. Richard met her on her walk to the stables. She smiled in greeting and he bowed his head. "M'lady.. how do you fair?" "I am tired Richard, worried.. and filled with dread, but I must stay strong." He nodded a little, worried for his young Princess. He walked with her in a comfortable silence to the stables where they met with Aeros, her second guard, and the three of them retained their steeds and mounted, heading for the gate that lead to the main road. As they rode just beyond the gate, They were halted. Cedric had caught up to them just before their departure. He seemed hurried and urgent. Illayna pulled the reigns to turn the horse around to meet him. "Sire Cedric, is everything alright?"
 
As Marcus moved on, Cedric saddled his horse and sprinted through the main gates into the city, blasting past the semi-concealed locations of the Greymere men. His orders were clear; get to Illayna and convince her that she was not to interfere with the Narvashal activities that morning. She’d already sent men to keep watch and he had no doubt they would report to her the minute activity occurred in camp. As he rode, Cedric’s mind cringed at the thought of his friend suffering such a punishment. For all his worry though, he would do as he was ordered and stand idle while it was administered. He knew the knight was set on the greater goal of peace and would be angry if Cedric worked against that. Reaching the outskirts of the Greymere camp, he spotted three people leaving the gate, one of them a woman. Sliding to a stop in front of them, he nodded as Illayna addressed him. “Milady, we spotted your men outside our camp keeping watch and Marcus sent me to you. No matter what happens this morning, he does not want you to interfere. His punishment will be severe enough as it is but he has agreed to it for the greater good of your cause.” He hoped his words would be enough to keep Illayna away but somehow he doubted it.

****

Marcus made the rounds of the camp, checking in with each of his men, those that had stepped forward and declared their loyalty to him the previous night. The number still surprised him but their enthusiasm did not; they all wanted the fighting to end and saw what he was doing as a noble goal worth supporting. He hoped that his efforts didn’t result in their deaths, trusted that Aquitaine would not be so dumb as to split his camp, but in the end, only time would tell. Taking a moment to let them know what was coming, he gradually steeled his nerves and eventually headed for the punishment block. Reaching it, he stood and waited as knights began to gather, most of them Aquitaine’s men. A guard stepped out and rang the gong, calling all men forward and alerting them of what was to start. Lord Aquitaine soon emerged from his tent and strode through the crowd, his royal robe hanging off his shoulders, swaying as he walked. A murmur ran through the men but it quickly hushed as he raised his fist.

“Good soldiers and citizens of Narvarshal” he said, his voice ringing loud and clear. “I stand before you to fulfill the requirements of punishment as decreed by me. Sir Marcus Steele, your High Knight, has confessed to the murder of two of his own men and after careful review of the crime, I have determined that his punishment shall be 40 lashes to the back.” Shouts of cheer, along with shock and dismay, rang through the crowd but no one strongly objected. Lord Aquitaine held his hand up again and received quiet a second time. “You might ask why he isn’t being put to the death for his crimes and to that, I tell you that we investigated his claim that the men he killed planned to attack another of ours and determined that it was true. Thus, acting in defense of a friend, Marcus shall not be put to death but his punishment will be severe.” His words were met with stunned silence this time and Marcus had to admit that he had played that well. With a signal, two guards stepped forward, one quickly stripping his shirt off his back while the other bent him over the punishment block and secured him. He heard the footsteps of the man chosen to do the whipping come forward and looked up, seeing his third in command. He had a nasty leer on his face and bent down, whispering. “I’m going to enjoy this very much, Marcus. Very much indeed.” With that, the man stepped behind him and raised the whip, preparing to make that first strike. The High Knight closed his eyes and relaxed his body, as ready for the pain as he could be, and just as the first blow fell, a breeze blew across his face carrying a voice with it. “I am with you, Marcus, now and forever” it whispered before fading as the first grunt erupted by his body, followed by the blast of pain. Two more fell in rapid succession but he felt another breeze, this time across his bare back, and gasped as some of the pain lessened.
 
When Cedric spoke, Illayna felt her blood chill, but a warming touch came over her, one she knew could not be seen. She relaxed her shoulders but kept her head up. A comforting whisper in her ear, advice she knew well to follow. "You have my word. I will not interfere unless more than this punishment is set into play." She bowed her head softly. "Thank you, Sir Cedric, for bringing me his words so swiftly. You have my word, and should anyone move otherwise.. rest assured it is not by my order." She parted ways then with a kind farewell, and though it pained her to know what harm would come to Marcus, she glanced up to the sky once. "The Goddess healed him once.. She will stand by him again." She was certain. That warmth washed over her again and that voice in her ear. The Goddess is With him, always and forever, our daughter, as she is with you. Your pain.. is her pain. He will not bare this punishment alone. She felt comforted with that knowledge. She rejoined Richard and Aeros, and the three of them strode into the capital city.

It's streets line with several colourful merchant stands, presenting a wide variety of interesting nicknacks and weapons or clothes. She took her time, browsing as they rode through. She studied the various sales, but her mind, though somewhat comforted.. was still worried about Marcus. She stopped at a particular stand, and dismounted for a moment. Aeros took the reigns as he too dismounted. Richard scouted ahead. Leading the horses Aeros stood close as Illayna began to peruse through the jewelry at the stand until she found the one that had caught her eye. The metal band was strong, and enscribed with simple words. "Forever Love" upon the inside of the band, the outside was riddled with odd markings, very masculine in appearance, it was perfect, she could give it to Marcus. With a brilliant smile she purchased it, and placed it securely in her saddle bag. From there she continued on, walking alongside Aeros as she browsed.

Her mind kept straying back to last night.. from the moments alone with Marcus, to the abrupt and dangerous gathering at her camp gates. She sighed softly, and slowed her gait. Each bruise aching, some good memories... others not. The ones upon her face had begun to yellow, She stopped to rub her cheek for a moment, strands of hair brushing her knuckles. "M...M'lady.. are you alright?" Aeros' timid voice brought her back to reality and she smiled softly. "I'm fine, Sir Knight.. let us continue." With a nod, he lead her long.
 
His meeting with Illayna done, Cedric returned to the Narvarshal camp at full speed, dropping his horse at the stables before racing towards the punishment block. He had her assurances that nothing would be done to stop what was happening and he could only hope it was true. The Greymere men had not been recalled, he had noted as he rode in, but neither had they moved. He pushed his way through the gathered crowd, shoving men left and right to clear a path, finally coming out in the front just as the crack of the whip sounded. His eyes fell to his trusted friend, bound to the punishment block like a piece of skinned beef, his back already showing the bloody welts of the first few blows. As he watched, another fell and Marcus jerked hard, a groan coming from his lips. Cedric’s gaze fell to the markings on his back and his lids narrowed as he stared, wondering why the damage didn’t seem as bad as it should have been. Turning to the man next to him, he motioned to Marcus. “How many lashes has he had?” Ten came the answer, causing Cedric to stare again. His skin should have been a bloody mess by then but it barely looked touched. Feeling a breeze brush his cheek, he suddenly stared upward and let a small grin fall into place.

**

Marcus lost count of the blows to his back after the first five, the soft leather of the whip slicing into his skin with each smack. There was pain, definite pain, but far less than he would have expected and he knew that the Goddess was with him. Each time a blow fell, a breeze blew across his skin, sucking the pain away before it could even begin. By the time the blows reached ten, he could feel the blood trickling through the cuts but it was still tolerable, so much so that he decided to have a little fun. Raising his head to glance over his shoulder, he grunted. “Is that the best you can, Tomas? No wonder you’ve never advanced past third rank. Put some strength into it man!” The last words were said forcefully, loud enough for everyone to hear, and he thought he heard a few snickers in the crowd, bringing a smile to his face. The next blow was harder, rocking his body against the stone, and he gasped but held his scream in as the pain blossomed throughout his back. No breeze came this time but words were whispered. “Brave words, my son, but foolish too. Never taunt your enemies unless you are in a position to deal with them.” Before he could fully digest the goddesses words, another blow came, drawing a ragged scream from his lips.

By the time Tomas had hit him twenty times, Marcus had broken out into a cold sweat but his pain had begun to ease, soothed by the steady stream of air that glided across his back. Blood oozed but didn’t flow, at least not until blow thirty crashed down, opening the gashes more. By now he was breathing hard and squirming on the rock, his back becoming extremely sore, yet he knew that the possible damage could have been far more severe than it was. Some of the men were cheering now, but not for the punishment itself but for the way Marcus was withstanding it. He could hear Cedric’s voice in the crowd, murmuring to the men around him, and it wasn’t until he heard the whispered words “the will of the Goddess” that he knew what his friend was doing. Blow thirty five drew another scream from his lips and the final blow, number forty, almost made him pass out. When he was finally cut loose from the stone, Lord Aquitaine stepped to his side and pronounced the punishment finished. Two men stepped up to his side, prepared to help Marcus up, but the High Knight waved them off and slowly stood by himself. He swayed in place, it was true, and was paler than a ghost but stand on his own he did, despite the moan. He could feel the blood flowing down his back but the pain was bearable and thus he turned to Lord Aquitaine. “My lord, you have cast your punishment for my crime and I stand before you now as living proof of the Goddess’s will.” Turning so that his back was visible to all of the men, he raised his voice again. “Look upon my back all soldiers of Narvarshal and witness divine intervention! I should be crippled, passed out, and a bloody pulp but I’m none of those things. Think on that while you go about your business today.” With that, he turned and staggered forward, the men parting for him. Cedric reached his side and discreetly helped him make it to his tent, where a healer was waiting for him. As he collapsed face first on his cot, Marcus knew the next stage of his rebellion had begun. Rumors would begin to circulate rapidly, of that he had no doubt.
 
Illayna walked alongside Aeros, she carried light conversation in hopes it would keep her mind off of Marcus. She could feel another presence with them, powerful and Masculine. The God, the lover of the Divine Goddess was with them, protecting them. She smiled to herself. She was just getting ready to share a joke with the young knight, Sir Richard was a few paces ahead of them when a tall figure shouldered the princess and knocked her stumbling into Aeros. She looked back in time to catch the nasty sneer and an unmarked cloak. Illayna steadied herself and watched the man disappear into the crowd. Things were about to get a bit more dangerous. "Lady Illayna, are you alright?" She nodded softly, and was quickly boxed between the two males. "I'm fine really.. " She gave both men a reassuring smile and proceeded on. She purchased a few small things here and there. One in particular she had fallen in love with. The dress was short, not long and flowing like she was used to but the sheer skirts were light, and where they were open and short in the front it was long and flowing in the back. A simple bustier style bodice, with no sleeves. The champagne colored material was beautiful with it's gold embroidering.

About mid day, they returned to camp. Illayna had been feeling slightly ill. She sent word to recall her men stationed outside of the Narvashal camp, and she awaited for them by horse back just outside of their own gate. Tonight, the High King had called forth all Kings, and their closest orders, including Marcus and Illayna, for a private dinner in his court. She knew what the matter of discussion would be. The battle that nearly occurred on Aurelian territory was not to be let go. The High king would dictate all actions throughout the remaining time of festival. He would personally over see all actions committed by both kingdoms. She was not fond of that, but it was necessary. Though it only meant warfare would continue in stealth and silence, behind closed doors, and when eyes are momentarily averted. Goddess be with them.. they would need all the help they could get. When her men regrouped and arrived she smiled upon them and welcomed them with a job well done.

Each returned to their tents, or went off to do whatever it was they desired, while Illayna rode down the road a little ways. knowing it would be foolish to approach the Narvashal camp, but she wanted to see Marcus.. she had to see him to know he was okay. She stopped herself however, and slowly made her way back to camp. A warm breeze brushed along her cheek, and the dull aches in her body faded into practically nothing. "Thank you.." She whispered softly to the nothingness around her. There was still plenty of daylight ahead of them.. she had the whole day to prepare for the evening meet. She sighed and continued to slowly make her way back to camp, enjoying the silence and alone time.
 
The pain was intense, lancing through his body like little lightning strikes, inflaming his nerves and causing trembles to roll through him. Marcus gritted his teeth and locked down his stubbornness, playing a little game with his mind that helped him block out the pain. As bad as it was, he knew it should have been a hundred times worse and he was thankful for the divine help he’d received. The Goddess’s lesson about taunting his enemies was also something he would not soon forget, the pain of the two lashes she let land without help searing an indelible mark on his soul. Aquitaine had played the punishment well, using it to drive home a point to his men while also appearing to show mercy to Marcus. It kept the camp from splitting down the middle, at least for now, and as much as he hated to admit it, the knight knew it was a good thing. While his goal would be helped if the Narvarshal camp annihilated itself with in-fighting, it would mean more loss of life, the very thing he was trying to avoid. Plus, it would simply inflame the rest of their army, taking the war to a whole new level, something that wasn’t acceptable at all.

When the healer stepped back, the pail of dirty water moving with her, Marcus rolled to a sitting position and then slowly stood. Bloody rags littered the floor of his tent, along with a few moist bandages and he was once again reminded of what he’d gone through, bringing another pang of pain. “Thank you healer” he said to the woman, bowing his head slightly out of respect. “You are welcome, Sir Marcus. The bandages will hold you today but I will need to change them again in the morning.” She paused, as if she wanted to say something else but hesitated instead. It was Cedric that spoke next. “Speak your peace, healer. We are all equals in this tent today.” The healer glanced at him, a blush coming to her cheeks, but then nodded. “There are whispers among the men, sirs…whispers that the Goddess intervened today, protecting Sir Marcus who is her chosen champion. I..I don’t know if that’s true but I know what forty lashes should do to a man and that didn’t happen to you.” Her gaze was fully on Marcus now and he met it evenly. “If you are truly touched, my lord, then I and the other healers will follow you. We are tired of repairing men broken by battle.” Marcus studied the woman for a moment and then gave her a curt nod. “I welcome your support, Healer. I…have need of eyes and ears within the camp. You could serve a great role for peace if you and the others could help me with that.” The healer smiled then and gave a brief curtsy before exiting the tent, leaving Marcus and Cedric together.

“That was a good move, Marcus, though you may have endangered her life as a result.” Marcus shrugged. “If she wants to help, Cedric, I can’t stop her. At least this gives her a purpose.” He moved away from his cot then, feeling the bandages pulling at his skin, a grimace on his face. Slipping a shirt on over his chest, he stood straight, turning to face his friend. “Thank you for the rumor about the intervention of the Goddess” he said but Cedric simply laughed in return. “Rumor my ass” he said. “You are standing here today because She favors you. Don’t let her down, Marcus.” With that he turned and headed for the tent flap, pausing to glance back one last time. “Oh, you better get used to that pain you’re feeling because you have a long night ahead of you. The High King has invited all Lords to the palace again, for dinner and to discuss the matter from last night. You and I are accompanying Lord Aquitaine.” Marcus groaned at the news, knowing what his body would feel like by the time the evening arrived but then he realized that Illayna would likely be there too and a smile broke out on his face. Cedric saw it and laughed again, shaking his head. “You, my friend, are besotted. Just don’t let those feelings get in the way of your goals if you can.” On that note, the knight disappeared through the flap, leaving Marcus to his thoughts. He finished putting the shirt on and cleaned up the mess on his floor then slipped out into the light. It was time to make the rounds of the camp, to be seen and heard by his men, and to put more fuel to those rumors that had started circulating. Anything that would help their cause was worth it, no matter how much pain it caused him.
 
The camp was bustling with life as always. Only now they were keeping on constant alert. Illayna stopped by the stable to hand off her horse. Though as the stable boy moved to take the steed away, she stopped him. "No..I... I'll take care of him today." with a curt nod, the boy dismissed himself as Illayna lead the steed into his stall and began to remove his bit, reigns, and saddle. Following through with the blanket and she patted down his flanks. She the grabbed the brush and began to brush him from neck to shoulder and on. Brushing away the dirt and dust of the day, tickling his itches and soothing his twitching muscles. She listened to the steady breathing of the steed as she groomed him. Comforting him with soft words, and sweet whispers. Confiding in him. "I feel different today..." She spoke to the steed softly. " Not different.. because I've become a woman.. not different because I've fallen in love.. not different because the Goddess speaks to me.. I feel different...entirely." She gently patted his neck beneath his mane, and nuzzled in against him. "Something brilliant is happening.. and I can not place my finger upon it..." She sighed softly and the horse sighed deeply, whineying quietly. She smiled and gently patted him down and resumed his brushing.

She brushed in a comfortable silence, combed his mane and tail, braided his main with a light delicacy. To keep the fine hairs from tangling. She kissed his large nose and closed the stall door behind her as she left. Two hours had passed and she felt much more relaxed and a tuned with herself. As she moved through the camp, she was greeted with more enthusiasm than she had been before. Perhaps her act the night before had proven to the people of Greymere, their king was not the only power they had.. their Princess too would lead them with a warrior heart. She spoke with few however and retired early to her tent, to bathe and prepare for the evening ahead. She was tired... she felt so tired, but she had to keep up. There was too much at stake tonight. She dressed in the new gown she'd purchased. The Champagne material went well with her peachy complexion. She slipped her feet into the shoes and laced them up along her calves. She sighed softly and stood before the mirror, looking at herself. The yellowing bruises seemed less obvious with the bright colors. She traced her fingertips over them, remembering that night and shuddering. She'd come close to death.. and Aquitaine would pay for it. She would see to it.

Richard slipped within the tent after announcing himself. Illayna had just finished tying back her hair, pinning it with a jeweled butterfly. He smiled, much like a father would when looking upon a daughter. Richard was every bit a father to her, as her own father was. She'd no sisters to care for her, upon her mothers death, so she took to two fathers. "Come My Lady, your father awaits us." With a soft nod, she followed him out of the tent, and to meet her father. She was surprised to see Erik waiting with him. She became curious, and the look upon her fathers face quirked her curiousity even more. When they arrived, ulric took Illayna by the hand and craddled it gently. Before using his other to gesture to Erik. "Illayna.. despite your efforts.. we can not be sure the war will pass... an in light of this.. Erik.. has offered us the aliance of his army.. in accordance with your hand." Though she could see he did not appear happy about this, she was shocked that he would even consider, knowing, deep down.. without her having to speak it, she was loved by another. She tore her hand from his and narrowed her eyes upon Erik, who looked as devilishly sly as ever. The fool had been planning this all along.

"No." Her word came hollow, yet powerful. "I will not. " She moved forward, and a loud slap echoed in the surrounding area. A few men stopped to look. "If you loved me... in any bit... fancied me...you would not have taken this route Erik, you would not! To take advantage of a situation like this.. with talk of aliances! HA!" She scoffed. "You're weak. Your men are weak!" She growled. "Where were you, when Aquitaine set fire to my mother... where were you.. when Aquitaine brought down these gates... where were you? Hiding in your temple, like some begotten priest?!" She turned away from him then. " If the God favored you... where is he now Erik? No man, who calls him self under the will of the God, would hide in fear, when war was brought to his doorsteps. Reread the word... review your lessons... in temple, and in life.. the God and Goddess were not weak.. they were not filled with fear... they stood proud and fought for what they believed in.. and the Goddess does not wish for me to marry you Erik, she does not favor a fool." The mans face was red, the crimson spreading through him like wildfire, to be embarassed so openly, was not something he was ever subjected to. "A real man, would know humiliation, you still have many lessons to learn. " She glanced back to him. "I request you Dismiss yourself from my camp, and the next lady you wish to call upon... court her properly.. do not just jump like some starved dog.. at any seemingly inappropriate oppertunity."

With a growl and a few choice words crossed with Ulric, Erik was dismissed. Her father approached, placing a firm hand upon her shoulder. "I could not turn him away so easily Illayna.. the help.. could have been used..should i now expect another Enemy brought to my doorstep. " She looked up at him with sad eyes. "No father, Erik is no so foolish. But you should have known better. Mother would have killed you for even considering it!" "I know my daughter.." His voice was sad, and weak. "Forgive an old fool?" She smiled softly, and turned around to hug him, kissing his cheek. "I could but only forgive you and love you father. Always."
 
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