Hi everyone!
This Chapter is probably not edited as well as it could have been, as I really just wanted to get it done and dusted so I can get to the good bits (god the pain of writing). Finally, it's finished though (yay) so next chapter we are off with Darius to see some familiar faces!! Hehe.
I hope you guys enjoy it all the same, and don't get too wary of Vandor. He's a nasty doggy with terrible manners, but he doesn't actually bite :)
Lots of love,
Daisy x
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Chapter 24 | The Final General
*
'I can see
t h r o u g h
you.'
-anon
*
IRIS
'Vandor will consider you a threat to his King.'
It was a moment before Iris realised what her tutor was implying. When she did, she felt aghast. "But I would never-" she began, but Balthazar cut her off.
"I know that Princess, but Vandor is incapable of seeing it that way. Silvon or not, Vandor himself is loyal only to the House of Greyson. For all he knows, you could intend to claim the throne back from Darius. While some may argue that is your right ... there are those – like Vandor – that would disagree. Heavily. In the eyes of many, Darius did technically, win the throne fair and square.
"And while his motives for doing so may have been spurred by loyalty to the House of Silvon, it is still Darius who has served as King for the past fifty years. Those who have served him during that time have never seen him as a mere stand in. Regardless of Darius's wishes – whatever they may be – those who support him will not see him step aside so easily. Not when they have fought so fiercely for him to gain the respect he deserves."
Iris could not help but notice the slightest spark of challenge, that just for a moment, had flashed through her tutors calm blue eyes. Did that mean Balthazar too, was someone who felt that way? Someone who viewed Iris as a potential threat? She found herself feelings slightly sick at the thought.
"What Balthazar is saying," Arlo said quietly, as he drew her backwards into a loose embrace, "is that, if Darius was to step aside, what is that saying to those who have served him loyally, and seriously, as their King, for all these years. He would practically be dismissing their faith in him."
"However," Arlo's body shifted slightly to block her from Balthazar's view. She could hear the frown in his voice as his tone turned accusing. "However, Balthazar- you went too far. She may be young, but you should remember who it is you are speaking to." It was rare for Arlo to criticise the older lycan with such a defensive tone. Her guardian was not happy.
"It's fine," Iris assured him, shrugging out of his hold slightly so that she had a clear view of Balthazar. "I understand why Vandor would be concerned," she told the old lycan, although the directness of her gaze made it clear she was not only referring to the General she had yet to meet, "but it is not my intention to do anything that would upset the current Monarchy. Especially not in a time of such unrest." She gave Balthazar a genuine smile- it was easy to do. Despite her discomfort at the thought of her tutor suspecting her so, she supposed she could not blame him. And she could hardly condemn him for his loyalty to his King. "And as you have so eloquently said before," she teased, "in my current state, who in their right mind would choose to follow me?"
Her words were meant in jest, but there was a truthfulness to them that stung Iris's heart, even as she spoke to them herself.
Because in all honesty, there was nothing she could do. She had nothing. She was nothing. Her family may have been powerful once, but not any-more.
Now it was just Iris.
Just her alone.
Even if she had wanted to usurp the King and retake the throne, who would help her? She was not powerful, she barely knew how to use her command, and she knew nothing of being a Monarch.
But now it was suddenly clear to Iris that even if she had no such intentions towards the throne, there were still going to be those who would suspect her regardless. She had assumed that she was fitting in here, slowly but surely. Had she been mistaken in feeling that way? Had she merely been an outsider this whole time?
Suddenly, it made sense to Iris why Darius had chosen to keep her presence a secret from the general population. He was not worried she would rise up against him. He was concerned they would turn against her.
They, being the mass of lycans that crowded below, crying out in adulation of their King.
They, being the ones who had been pulled by their Alpha out of the ashes, while he had simultaneously been shouldering the worlds hate and shielding them from the brunt of it, with his own bare back.
Iris was unsure what expression she was making, but Arlo's arms tightened around her and before she realised, Balthazar had dipped his head slightly, his lips pinched thin, his eyes tight. "I must apologise, Princess. This teacher has overstepped his boundaries."
"It's fine," Iris repeated, unable to find new words to refute him properly. Suddenly she felt a bit too hot. "Can we just watch now? Whatever the General Vandor's feelings are towards my existence, I will cross that bridge when I come to it." Her voice was hoarse and she coughed lightly to clear it.
"As you wish, Beauty." Arlo murmured from above her head, his arms still tight around her as he pressed a kiss into her hair. Tactfully, he changed the subject, and his smooth, flowing words made it easier for Iris to gather herself and gain the sense of anticipation she had had before the conversation had turned south.
"The lycans behind Vandor will be those who are taking the pledge today." Arlo told her.
"Is there a reason why it's done in public?" Iris wondered.
This time, it was Balthazar who answered her question, speaking after a moment of hesitation. "Yes. It is because it is the right of the existing pack members, to see who it is they will be welcoming into the pack. While Darius can accept whoever he wants, as is an Alpha's right, the pack still needs to accept them also. Otherwise, new lycans can hardly integrate themselves easily. And when it comes down to it Iris, for all our division we are still pack creatures. We function best as a unified unit." Her tutors' words had regained the light-hearted manner that Iris was used to, and tentatively she met his gaze.
Balthazar offered her a rare smile. There was a trace of emotion in his eyes that lingered, however- something that looked far too close to pity for Iris's liking. Iris felt her hackles raise defensively and she moved out from Arlo's embrace, determined to stand out from under her guardian's protection. Arlo however, frowned at the action and tugged her resolutely back into his side.
"Where are you going," he grumbled crossly. "Stay where I can see you."
She looked at him in disbelief, all other thoughts forgotten momentarily. "I'm literally standing right here." She emphasised as Balthazar laughed in the background.
"Well maybe I'm cold," Arlo grumbled petulantly as he leaned on her heavily.
"You don't get cold," Iris pointed out from underneath Arlo's weight. She shoved at him, but his only reply was to lean on her more.
"I do get cold!" Arlo protested. His tone turned teasing. "The cold shoulder you're giving me right now is pretty chilly."
Iris was rolling her eyes before she even realised. "Just pay attention," she retorted, "weren't you supposed to be educating me?"
"That's Balthazar's job," Arlo continued in his sing-song voice that Iris knew he only used when he was trying to simultaneously annoy and distract her. Frustratingly, most of the time it was rather effective. Like now.
"Balthazar, please continue so that this idiot will shut up." Iris requested of her tutor politely.
The old lycan chuckled, "As the Princess wishes." He pointed to the platform, "Vandor has brought those who wish to pledge themselves before the King. It will start soon."
Sure enough, while they had been talking, the procession of lycans had reached the platform, and were now spacing themselves out along it. There were exactly eight lycans, five male, three female. They were a mixture of ethnicities, but Iris was not worldly enough to identify where it was specifically, that any of them came from. Not that it really mattered, after all in the lycan world– pack was pack, regardless of background.
Vandor was standing in front of Darius and as Iris watched, the intimidating lycan dropped to one knee, his head bowed in respect. Darius placed a hand on his General's shoulder, speaking to him briefly before withdrawing. Vandor nodded in ascension and rose to his feet. The heights of the two lycans were almost equal.
"This is your first time witnessing a pledge, Princess?" Balthazar spoke as Iris watched the King and his General turn to face the eight lycans.
"Yes," Iris said, suddenly feeling a little bit nervous, "I've read about it, but the descriptions are hard to imagine."
"And what do you know?"
"Well," Iris said, her eyes trained on Darius, "I know that pledges or vows, can be accepted by any lycan, regardless of status, but the stronger the lycan, the stronger the pledge. If a lycan makes a pledge of allegiance over top of one that has already been formed, then the stronger will cancel out the other – similar to a command."
"It is not as easy as a command though," Balthazar cautioned her warningly. "The command is a battle of wills. A lycans pledge is a commitment of their very souls. It is not so easy to transfer a pledge from one Alpha to another. Such an action is practically treason, and they will be judged for it accordingly. If the Alpha finds their resolution lacking, then it could very well be the lycan themselves who is devoured."
Iris shuddered. "And these lycans?" She asked, pointing to the ones who stood below, "Who are they pledged to? Why did they choose to join Darius now?"
"I don't know," Arlo said, sounding more calm about the situation than Iris felt. "But most of them will have not pledged themselves before. There won't be any problems."
His words brought Iris some comfort. "I didn't realise there were lycans who existed outside the main packs," Iris said in surprise.
Arlo smiled down at her. "Of course, there are. You are one such lycan, Beauty. Or had you forgotten?"
She had forgotten, Iris realised with a start. As of this moment, she had not offered up this so-called pledge to anyone. But then no one had asked it of her either.
"You are not expected to align yourself with anyone, Iris." Arlo's tone was light, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that Iris could not place. "You are a Silvon. You should not have to bow your head to anyone."
Iris had heard her guardian say such things before, but she was suddenly struck by the fierceness of his words. It was as though he saw her as someone greater than who she was. Although she felt that his confidence might be a little misplaced, the thought still gave her warmth. She smiled and patted his arm complacently. "I think you might be biased," she laughed lightly.
Arlo grunted and was about to answer when a sudden voice, echoing from the centre of the square, interrupted him. Their party of three fell silent as they listened to Darius, who had finally begun to speak.
The King did not speak any louder than usual, but his commanding tone drew the attention of all who had gathered instantly. A hush fell over the busy square, allowing Darius's words to travel effortlessly over the crowd.
"Residents of Lunex, this Alpha greets you."
Such a simple sentence was met with uproar. For a moment, Iris was unable to hear anything other than the cheers that echoed around her. Her heartbeat quickened in response, a rush of anticipation skittering through her veins. This was what it meant to be part of a pack.
And then Darius raised a hand, his face as impassive as always, and silence was prevalent once more.
"Today, your General Vandor has returned from his travels with lycans who seek to join the House of Greyson. What would you have them do?"
Iris gripped the railing of the balcony, unable to quell her rising excitement as the crowd below roared their answer. The atmosphere was contagious, intensely so. She wasn't sure if the lycans in the square were in support of the newcomers or thirsting for their blood.
"Pledge! Take the vow!"
"Teach them the power of the King!"
"Show them the strength of Greyson!"
Although it seemed as though Darius was unaffected by the chants from the crowd, as Iris watched, she could see him visibly begin to bristle and with each step he took, the edges of the platform seemed to tremble and quake.
When Darius next spoke, he did not need the silence of the crowd to be heard, his voice was a booming tremor that shook the very air that Iris breathed. Iris saw Balthazar's gaze become slightly unfocused and she recognised that her tutor was acknowledging an internal voice that she herself could not hear. So, Darius's words were being projected through the link also.
"As you desire, they will have an opportunity to pledge themselves to us," Darius rumbled, and Iris suddenly realised that he was transforming, his height becoming double what it was before, "but they will first acknowledge power of your King."
The noise of the crowd intensified, and Iris wasn't even sure what they were saying anymore, but their approval was undeniable either way.
With his muscles bulging and stretching, the fabric of Darius's clothing burst apart at the seams. His shirt tore, unable to contain the swell of his massive torso. The ends of his trousers split up the sides to accommodate the hindlegs that bent backwards on themselves, reshaping into haunches with thick paws instead of feet and claws that splintered the wood of the platform below. His hands flexed at his sides, nails lengthening into black claws that Iris knew would be as sharp as any sword.
The silver fur that raced to cover his tanned skin ate up his face last, and Iris watched, entranced as his features morphed too. His straight, roman nose elongated into an animalistic snout, his skull changing in shape, golden hair shrinking back into his scalp until it formed a thick silver ruff around his neck; the longer hair blending with the fur on top of his head. His ears pulled backwards and upwards, morphing into triangular points that twitched in response to the roar to the crowd, before pressing flat, back against his skull.
Within seconds, Darius as Iris knew him had vanished, replaced by a towering creature that stared imposingly out at the surrounding crowd. He was undoubtably a lycan, yet still with distinctly human characteristics- the upright stance, mostly human torso and arms, and those frightening grey eyes.
He was terrifying.
A sleek, yet jarring combination of wolf and human. And when he spoke, the voice that grated out from between his fanged jaws was raw with power.
"You already acknowledge me as your King," Darius growled, "but you have travelled this far to pledge yourselves to me as your Alpha."
He spoke to the lycans that were lined up in front of him, yet Iris felt as though he were speaking directly to her. She felt her nerves wound tight with anticipation, waiting, certain that at any moment that chilling gaze would turn her way.
She had seen both Arlo and Darius's half-beast forms before, but it had only been for the in-between moment before their lycanthrope had fully taken over, and she had never attempted to maintain the form herself. Had they really been this large, in the moments before the change?
She did not envy the lycans on the platform. To their credit, although they seemed terrified, they all had managed to remain upright. Iris watched as one of the females – visibly shaking – reached out to grasp the hand of the male next to her. Her skin was fair, her hair even more so. A pale waif, amidst a field of blossoming colour.
All of them were staring, straight ahead, their gazes unwavering, even as Darius paced in front of him, the sheer weight of his half beast form causing the platform to groan in protest. Unlike Iris, they were not so foolish as to meet the gaze of the King.
"This means, you wish to offer your pledge to the House of Greyson." Darius continued, in his guttural tone, "In offering up your pledge to me, you pledge yourself to the pack. You acknowledge that your interests, from this day forth, align with the pack, and align with what actions I – as your Alpha – deem necessary to maintain the wellbeing and security of the pack. Do you understand?"
The calls of acknowledgement echoed out from the eight, some more firm than others.
It occurred to Iris then, that those lycans who had returned with Vandor were not necessarily fighters. Certainly, the quaking female and her male partner seemed to be rather ordinary, yet they were suddenly faced with such alarming circumstances.
But surely they had known, had been prepared in advance for what undertaking the pledge would mean. Iris wondered what their circumstances had been, to lead them to this choice, to this moment.
"Good," Darius snarled. On top of his head, his pointed ears, which had – until that moment, been pressed flat against his skull, perked upwards slightly, twitching sporadically in acknowledgement of the sound from the crowd. "On my command, you may advance and present yourself, before offering your pledge."
Arlo's arms suddenly tightened around Iris, and she jolted from the stupor she had unknowingly slipped into as she had been watching the action. Her guardian leaned forward to speak into her ear, his voice low.
"Now each lycan will step forward, one at a time to offer their pledge to the King. Their pledge will be devoured, and should his lycan deem them worthy, it will be accepted."
"And if they are not worthy?" Iris whispered.
"The lycan pledge is brutal, Princess," Iris looked to Balthazar to find that her tutor's eyes were hard. "As I said before, if they are not strong in their resolve, they will be devoured instead."
Iris stared at the still trembling female lycan on the platform. In front of Darius's massive form, she seemed so unbearably fragile.
"Outward appearance is not always a true judgement of a person's resolve, Iris," Arlo said, noticing the direction of her gaze. "Vandor does not bring back just anyone from his travels. He would have tested them first."
Still, Iris could not help her sharp intake of breath when the female lycan became the first to step forward out from the group. Iris gripped the railing of the balcony, her knuckles growing white.
"You are the first?" Darius's voice in his half-beast form was like thunder, rumbling through the square. Abruptly Iris remembered the look in his eyes when he had glared down at her at the entrance to Aelin. Did he look like that now? Looking down at that nameless woman? Iris did not envy her position.
"I am the first." The female lycan confirmed. She spoke with an accent Iris was unfamiliar with, and despite her trembling stance, her voice remained steady. "My name is Otsana Eos, and I have come from the far North with my husband. Before now, we belonged to no pack other than each other."
"Very well," Darius growled, "then you may begin."
"Yes, my King." The woman lowered herself shakily to her knees. "I come before the Alpha to offer my pledge of allegiance to the House of Greyson. May his lycan gaze upon my soul and deem me worthy."
There was a moment of inaction, after the woman finished speaking and Iris felt her whole body tense as she waited for something, anything, to happen.
But when it finally did, it was like nothing Iris had imagined.
A stream of light burst forth from the woman's chest. It was like a tendril of thick fog, streaming out into the air, and Iris's eyes widened as she watched the tendril waver slightly, before stretching to hesitantly curl around Darius's imposing form.
As it did, the woman's head fell back, her mouth agape. There was a light building in the back of her throat, and the same light illuminated her eyes also, rendering them white and unseeing. There was a distinctive luminescent mark on her forehead that had not been there before, and Iris zoned in on it, realising – as it grew brighter – that it was in the shape of a crescent moon.
"What's happening to her?" Iris stared intently at the woman. She did not seem to be in pain, but her blank expression seemed too much like a silent scream for Iris to feel truly comfortable.
"Don't worry," Arlo reassured her. "Everything is normal so far. Her lycan has offered her pledge, now we will see if my brother accepts it."
The tendril of light emitting from the female's chest seemed almost sentient as it wove around Darius, tentatively seeking a way in. The end of it hovered in front of his chest for a moment, pulsing slightly, as though it were alive. It stretched forward a little more and made contact with his skin.
The instant the tendril made contact, it snapped into place, as though it had been caught and pulled from the other end. In a second, it went from being an almost transparent waif, to a solid chain of light that bound the two lycans together. The light pulsated, and then it was suddenly flowing in excess, pouring from the females' eyes, mouth, and ears, at an alarming rate.
But the light was not dispersing into nothing. Instead, it seemed to be streaming into Darius; to the point in his chest where the two were connected. Darius seemed mostly unaffected by the flow, but Iris noted the bristle of hair around the scruff of his neck as his hackles raised and the way his ears pressed backwards against his head.
In the background, the crowd roared.
"Now we will see what will be devoured, Princess." Balthazar's tone was solemn. "The pledge, or the woman."
Iris glanced at her tutor and then back to the platform. "What do you mean?"
"That light coming from her body," Balthazar drummed his fingers against the railing of the balcony, "you can think of it as her soul. The pledge binds one lycans soul to another. That's why such a thing as the pack link exists. But to give too much of one's soul is to welcome death. If her lycan's 'will' is too weak, Darius will consume it all."
"Can't he stop before that happens?" Iris asked, slightly horrified.
"He cannot. It is instinct." Balthazar looked callously down at the scene below. "The strong prey on the weak. Such is the way of our world."
"You don't need to worry, Princess," Arlo softened the harshness of her tutor's words as he nodded towards the pair on the platform, "it is very rare that a lycan is killed when offering their pledge. Our race is not so weak. Look, the female is fine."
Sure enough, the light stream was not as strong as before, and Iris watched with undisguised relief as it dulled again, before dispersing completely. The woman's eyes returned to normal, the crescent moon on her forehead fading back into her skin.
For a moment the female was listless in her kneeled position, but then she seemed to realise what had happened and she straightened, glancing around warily. Upon looking behind her, Iris saw her make eye contact with the male she had been with, offering him a wobbly smile – which he returned.
"Congratulations." Darius drew the woman's attention once more and she rose to standing, her head bowed in front of him. "You have been accepted into the House of Greyson."
The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and Iris could not help but smile in relief. Catching sight of her expression, Arlo laughed. "You are too kind as usual, Beauty," he chuckled, "you don't even know the woman, yet you were so worried for her."
"That 'woman' is now part of your pack Arlo," Iris snapped in retort, elbowing him in the side, "don't you think you could bear to be a little more supportive?"
"Yes, yes," he placated, and Iris rolled her eyes. She heaved another sigh, suddenly aware of just how nervous she had been.
"Do you want to stay and watch the rest?" Arlo asked her, alert as ever to her changing emotions. "Now that you've seen one, the rest will be mostly the same."
"I want to stay," Iris said resolutely after a moment, "I want to see the others."
There was a smile in Arlo's reply. "As you wish, Princess."
-
The rest of the pledges passed uneventfully, as Arlo had said they would. It seemed that the woman had been the most nervous out of the eight, and as such, the following vows were executed much more quickly. Aside from some slight variation of wording – which Balthazar said was unimportant, a detail left to individual preference – the only other discrepancy was the length of time each light chain bound the lycans to Darius.
"Again, it depends on will." Balthazar told Iris when she raised the question. "Those with strong wills can offer their pledge and break the link. Those with weaker wills will struggle more to severe the connection. It is how the Alpha measures their strength."
Iris thought she understood. But still, the whole process seemed so harsh.
In just under half an hour, all eight lycans had offered their loyalty with nothing out of the ordinary occurring. With a few more short words from Darius, the lycans dispersed into the surrounding crowd, welcoming hands stretching to receive them with pats of congratulations and smiles of greeting.
"What will happen to them now?" Iris wondered.
"There are those whose job is to integrate new members into our pack." Arlo said. "Vandor already would have assessed their attributes before bringing them before the King. They will be taken care of."
Iris nodded absentmindedly, her gaze lingering on Darius who was still maintaining his half-beast form on the platform. Gabriel had appeared, holding Darius's thick cloak, while Vandor stood on the other side of his King, unspeaking.
Darius reached for the cloak Gabriel offered and finally he began to transform back, his body shrinking until he had resumed the form Iris was most familiar with. As though he had barely noticed the transition, Darius swung his cloak around his shoulders without pause, covering his bare chest. His trousers however, now ended just below his knees, but Darius did not seem to care, as he made his way down from the platform with both Generals in tow.
"We will re-join them now," Arlo said, releasing Iris from his loose grasp as he leant back and stretched, a joint popping in his shoulder. "I believe my brother plans to assess the soldiers Vandor has returned with."
"Are they new recruits as well?" Iris wondered curiously.
"No," Arlo dismissed, "but it is important to reassess our soldiers every so often, to ensure their pledges remain firm."
Iris hummed vaguely, feigning disinterest, but she understood immediately, what Arlo was not willing to say. Darius suspected there was a spy in his ranks. She thought of the civil war that was brewing, just outside of the boundaries, and wondered what had occurred for the King to suddenly be doubting the loyalty of his own.
*
"Stay by my side."
Iris grimaced, but did as she was asked, falling to walk slightly behind Arlo. "I know you said to be prepared, but I highly doubt he's going to eat me," she hissed. "Don't you think you're being too protective?"
Arlo sent her a faint smile and reached out to ruffle her hair- and action she managed to dodge at the last second. His expression turned playful, and his arm shot out to snag her, ruffling her hair determinedly anyway. "When did you become fast enough to dodge me?" He laughed as she protested furiously.
"Since you became old and slow," Iris retorted, glaring up at him from underneath his hand.
Arlo feigned heart ache at her words, and Iris could not hold back her laughter. "No, but seriously," she said, tugging on his hand, "stop worrying so much."
Arlo chuckled. "If that's what you want, then perhaps you should try harder not to be so concerning."
"Brother."
Iris fell silent at the voice, as did Arlo- her guardian stepping in front of Iris to conceal her slightly, an action she let him away with, despite her earlier words.
Darius stood just in front of them, looking up to acknowledge the arrival of his brother. It seemed that he had been in conversation with his General's, and a both of them nodded in greeting as Arlo approached.
There was a tug at Iris's elbow and her gaze slid to the side to see that Balthazar was standing quietly beside her. Ever so softly, her tutor shook his head.
Don't say anything.
Iris swallowed. She looked back to Arlo and almost jumped from her skin when she realised that Gabriel had approached without her notice. The third in Command was looking quietly down at her, his expression similar to Balthazar's.
"Shall we go to explore the town?" He asked lightly, but there was no mistaking deeper meaning concealed in his words.
Now is not a good time.
Looking past Gabriel, Iris could see Arlo was speaking to Darius lowly. Beside them stood the man Iris had only observed from a distance. The King's Second in Command - General Vandor.
Iris had already thought the man to be imposing, but up close, he was even more so. She had admired his uniform from a distance, but now she could see that it was actually armour, crafted from solid metal plates, curved to fit his form precisely. The plates that covered his shoulders curved upwards into points, like golden dragon fangs, the rest of the amour a deep ebony.
As though sensing her gaze, Vandor looked up, and Iris suddenly found herself under scrutiny from bottle green eyes, the colour so light that they seemed almost luminescent against his deep, sepia skin. His eyes, like the elegant sword-like brows above them, were angular and they narrowed further as Vandor scrutinised Iris carefully. Iris felt her scalp prickle. This was the gaze of a hunter.
"Vandor."
Mercifully, Iris was released from scrutiny as the General looked to where his name had been called. Iris's eyes snapped across as well, it was Arlo who had drawn the General's attention. Arlo was looking at her now, his expression stern.
'Go.' He mouthed, and it was then Iris realised that Vandor did not yet know her significance. He had merely been curious about the lycan that had arrived, accompanying his Prince.
Iris's fingers fumbled for Gabriel's arm as she tore her eyes away and forced her legs to move.
"Let's go," she said shakily. "Let's go to the market for now."
"We will see you soon, Princess." Balthazar murmured on their way past with a gentle pat on her shoulder. "Don't worry too much. His Majesty will inform Vandor about the circumstances before you meet him. If it is Darius, then Vandor won't say too much."
Iris nodded, but as she and Gabriel hurried away without a backwards glance, a sudden thought occurred to her – triggered by Balthazar's wording.
"Gabriel," Iris asked quietly, "was Vandor aware of my existence?"
Iris had always assumed that everyone had known about her, long before she knew about them – except for the general public of course. There had never been any indication of otherwise- all of the guards in the palace were familiar with her. So were the soldiers that frequented the training grounds. Gabriel and Ezekiel had spoken about how they had been looking forward to her arrival, since the first moment she had met them in the forest.
"No." Gabriel replied. Her guard was looking straight ahead as he manoeuvred them easily through the crowds. "No, the King thought it was best not to tell him."
Iris swallowed and nodded. "I see." She said lightly, ignoring the concerned look Gabriel sent her.
Although she had reprimanded Arlo for worrying only moments ago, she couldn't help but do the same thing now. It seemed that perhaps her guardian had not been overreacting after all.
*
Fortunately, the rest of the afternoon passed more cheerfully than the morning. Iris didn't know if Gabriel had received orders to keep her busy, but she welcomed his distractions easily, choosing not to think too deeply about the motives.
Putting Vandor from her mind for now, she told herself there was nothing she could do, and instead indulged in the riches that Lunex had to offer.
It seemed that Gabriel had indeed grown up here, a fact he confirmed himself, and her guard walked the streets of the lively town with easy familiarity. He was well known to most of the people who passed them, and Iris – with her soldiers' uniform and scent concealing spray – garnered only a few curious looks from her guard's adoring fans.
It was extremely amusing, to watch her stoic guard being hounded by such a wide variety of exuberant lycans, who seemed all too happy to see him. Iris simply had to follow as – with his face growing more and more impassive – Gabriel was passed along, dragged to accompany, and sent to visit what Iris had calculated as being, at least a third of the Lunex township.
Which was how they had ended up in their current situation.
"Don't tell me you were planning to come all the way down here without even stopping in to visit your mother?!"
Iris stifled a laugh, as Gabriel stood, a little stiffly in the middle of the cosy shop. There was an uncomfortable expression on his face, possibly due to the fact that they were currently standing in the middle of what was clearly a dressmakers, but mostly due – Iris thought - to the short woman that was currently bustling around Gabriel's much larger frame.
"Iris, this is my mother," Gabriel had informed her seriously, upon entering the shop. "Mother, this is Iris."
Gabriel's mother, who had introduced herself to Iris as Sila, was tiny – barely reaching Gabriel's shoulder. What she lacked in height however, she made up for in personality. She bustled around her son, her chestnut curls bouncing with indignance as she reprimanded Gabriel crossly. At some point, she had whipped out a feather duster, and was now brandishing it in Gabriel's face while simultaneously dusting his uniform.
Iris felt her cheeks cramp from holding in her smile, as she watched Gabriel go slightly cross-eyed from trying to keep the duster in sight as it wiggled insistently near his nose.
"I'll have you know that all the neighbours were talking about was how you had been to visit them, before you came to visit me," Sila was saying, her tone resentful. She whipped a tape measure out of nowhere and lifted up Gabriel's arms to start measuring.
"I apologise Mother," Gabriel said formally, "however, I would point out that we have only been in town since this morning, and after the official business wrapped up, we have been occupied in other stores-
"No excuses," Sila interrupted, her tape measure sliding back into its holder with a snap. "You should have come here first! Izsak, get out here and greet your son!"
Helplessly, Gabriel lowered his arms. There was a shuffling noise from the back of the shop, followed by a curt, "coming," and then a few seconds later, a tall lycan was ducking through the door at the back. He straightened, peering around the room as he absorbed the state of its inhabitants, and Iris felt her heart warm slightly when she realised that – although Gabriel had gotten his curls from his mother, his forest green eyes had undoubtably come from his father.
It seemed that was not all he had inherited, and Iris felt as though her chest would burst from holding in her laughter, as she watched the equally stoic Izsak receive a grilling from his tiny, yet enigmatic wife, about not coming out to greet their son sooner.
"Well don't just stand there," Sila bustled, "what are you, carved from stone? Say hello!"
"Hello, son." Izsak laid a firm hand on his son's shoulder, giving it a pat. "It's good to see you."
"And you, Father." Gabriel replied formally.
Iris almost died when Sila passed underneath Izsak's outstretched arm without the slightest concern for hitting her head – the interaction made only better by the fact that her husband didn't flinch in the slightest or make to retract his arm.
"How have you been?" Izsak asked, blinking around the feather duster that had once again appeared from nowhere and resumed its attack of the front of Gabriel's military coat.
"Well, thank you," Gabriel said solemnly. "How is business?"
"It's going well," Izsak replied modestly.
Iris looked around at the walls that were lined with opulent materials and fabrics and felt that was rather an understatement. She hadn't taken a closer look at any of the dresses hung on the racks, but they seemed exquisite.
"It's going more than well," Sila piped up, seeming to agree with Iris. The small woman was momentarily hidden by her husband's large stature. "Your father's summer designs have just been released and they were a hit." Her tone was smug. "We've received orders for export, that's why the shop is so stocked currently. Half of this will be being shipped out in the next week."
Iris couldn't stay silent any longer. "Really?" She exclaimed, stepping to Gabriel's side, "that's amazing!"
"This is Iris, dear," Sila fussed. Finally seeming satisfied in her dusting of her son, she stopped beside her husband and smiled at Iris. "Gabriel's been training her up to become part of his Majesty's guard."
"Really?" Izsak's voice suggested that he was surprised, but Iris was only assuming- as the lycans face had about as much expression as a block of granite. "Impressive, young lady. Your parents must be very proud."
Iris heard Gabriel begin to correct him, but she interrupted him quickly. "They are," she grinned, thinking of Arlo and Balthazar- although, she half expected Balthazar to appear from nowhere and strike her down for being so assuming. Proud? She imagined her tutor scoffing, who's proud. What have you done to be proud of?
Iris's grin widened. "Gabriel is a great teacher; you must be proud as well Sir."
Izsak's deep green eyes almost imperceivably grew softer. "I am," he replied simply.
"You should take a look around the store, dear," Sila ushered Iris towards one of the racks towards the door, "you're very pretty. I'm sure any of these would look lovely on you."
"Oh, no. I don't-" Iris began to say, but Sila was already pulling things from the rack.
"Nonsense," she asserted, loading Iris's arms with items, "just because you're in training, doesn't mean you can't enjoy the material things. Go and try these on. Izsak dear, Gabriel has grown since you last took his measurements, you'll have to do some adjustments on that coat you finished. Iris can try these on while you do that," she ushered Iris towards a changing room at the back, "go on honey, shoo!"
Iris sent a pleading look in Gabriel's direction, but both father and son simply watched her go with the same resignation in their eyes. And so, accepting of her fate- Iris laughed.
"Alright," she smiled down at Sila, "if you insist."
*
It was a good two hours later that Iris and Gabriel both finally emerged from the tiny shop, their arms ladened with bags. Sila had insisted Iris receive a discount, but Iris had paid in full, sneaking the rest of the money onto the counter before exiting the shop.
She did not mind paying for such beautiful clothes, even it was doubtful she would wear them. It wasn't her money anyway, Iris thought with a smile, and Arlo would be delighted if he knew that Iris had actually gone shopping for dresses of all things. The thought of his pleased face made her laugh.
Further down the street and out of sight from his parents, Gabriel collected Iris's bags for her, insisting to carry them despite her protests.
"Please Princess," he said, making sure to keep his voice lowered as he addressed her, "it's the least I can do."
"I don't know why you're apologising," Iris laughed, looping her hands behind her head as she gazed up at the cloudless sky, "they were lovely. Have they always been in that business?"
"Yes," Gabriel asserted, "my father is rather expressionless on the outside, but he saves all of his passion for his work. My mother worked in a similar industry overseas, making lace. They met when he was still part of the guard, and he brought her back."
"That sounds like a dream," Iris sighed.
"I suppose they were very lucky," Gabriel mused.
"Did they live in Lunex when Aether was attacked?" Iris asked quietly.
For a moment, Gabriel was silent. "Yes," he said finally, "both of them fought in the battle. My mother was heavily injured, and movement on her right side was impaired. She hasn't been able to do lace work since."
"I'm sorry," Iris was horrified.
"She was very talented," Gabriel's voice was soft. "But she has recovered well. She contents herself with helping my father now," he sent Iris a quick smile. "Father responded by expanding his work fast enough so that she can now cut and measure to her heart's content. So don't be sorry, Princess. She is still alive, that's what matters."
"I suppose," Iris said, "but still."
"That's what happens in war, Princess," Gabriel sounded far too accepting for Iris's liking, "sometimes, sacrifices must be made."
"You sound far too accepting," Iris grumbled.
"Only because you are still too naïve," Gabriel raised an eyebrow at her, "although in this case, it is not a bad thing. It is my wish that the Princess should never have to experience war."
"Well, there is something we can both agree on," Iris smiled tightly, "although I hope that my lack of experience doesn't come at the cost of others."
This time, Gabriel did not reply.
*
Iris sighed as she stroked the nose of her horse and waited for someone to appear to tell her it was time to go home.
Gabriel had instructed her to wait at the coral, while he went to check on the progress of Arlo and the rest of the party. Iris had been happy to comply, the day had been rather eventful after all. She had just used the last of her coins to buy a fruit crepe from one of the market stalls (still her favourite) and had just finished licking the last of the syrup from her fingers before turning her attention to the horses.
"You've had it easy," she mumbled to the blonde mare, leaning through the coral to scratch the diamond shaped white patch on the mare's forehead, "you've been in here all day just eating and relaxing." Iris fumbled around in one of her saddle bags, searching for the bag of apples amongst the mass of dresses that Gabriel had packed neatly inside. She finally found one and offered it to the mare, smiling as the soft rubbery lips snaffled up the treat from her hand.
There was a nudge on her shoulder, and she looked up to see that two other horses had trotted over to see if there were any extra offerings. She recognised Gabriel's brown gelding, who she was familiar with and, lingering off to the side- a little more wary- Darius's black and white stallion, with whom she was not.
She offered both of them an apple anyway. The stallion took a little more coaxing, he was tied separately – as a precaution, but Iris shifted around so that she could reach him comfortably and after a moment he accepted the apple from her palm, crunching it a little suspiciously. She laughed. Just like his owner.
"Hello."
Iris froze.
The voice was unfamiliar, but that alone should not have been enough alarm Iris the way that it did. She turned slowly, suddenly certain of who she would find, and ridiculously unprepared to face him.
Sure enough, Iris met a pair of green eyes that were a stark contrast to the comforting forest green of Gabriel's. It was a hunter's eyes that found her own, and as General Vandor looked down at her with a gaze that told Iris she was prey, she knew with certainty, that this time, the General knew exactly who she was.
Iris took a deep breath and forced a smile onto her face. "Hello," she said, feigning ignorance. It was a safe strategy, she thought. "I don't believe we've met."
"Forgive me." The General's voice was smooth and collected, and Iris was only slightly unnerved by the fact that she still hadn't seen him blink. He extended a hand for Iris to take; his hands incased in soft leather gloves, ebony black. It was a detail Iris had failed to noticed before, but then she had probably been too busy trying to absorb the rest of him to look at his hands. The gap of skin exposed between the glove and his cuff, reveled the tail end of a tattoo. It seemed a sharp contrast to the rest of the Generals sleek, polished appearance.
As he took Iris's hand lightly in his own, she could have almost been forgiven for assuming that everything was going to be fine. That was until he gave a short bow over her hand, his armor clinking lightly and his next words slipped from his lips like hot butter.
"Forgive me," he repeated, "I should have introduced myself to her Majesty sooner."
The way he said the words 'her Majesty,' reminded Iris of the first time Darius had addressed her as 'Princess'. Both titles, then and now, were filled with contempt. As though she were underserving.
While she had gradually come to realise Darius's initial stance on the matter, Vandor was just being downright provocative.
Iris withdrew her hand sharply and the General straightened, his green eyes glittering like jewels, his angular face impassive. Iris struggled to maintain her composure, finally managing to paste the smile back on her lips.
Iris had decided on something, as she had followed Gabriel around Lunex for the better part of the afternoon. What Vandor thought of her, was of no significance to Iris. He was not her subordinate, and neither did she have to answer to him. She did not need his approval. And if he was going to view her with suspicion, then that was his problem. As long as Arlo and -dare she think it- Darius, had confidence in her, then that was enough.
Now that she was face to face with him however, she found her resolve wavering slightly. She had thought Darius to be intimidating, but there was still his similarity to Arlo that softened his edges slightly in Iris's eyes.
This lycan before her had none of that. He was completely unknown, and if the cold demeanour he was currently projecting was anything to go by, he had no intention of letting her get to know him any more either.
Iris's hands slowly curled into fists. Vandor was wrong if he thought she was going to cower away from this meeting again. And she knew that the reason he was looking down at her so contemptuously now, was because he had seen her retreat earlier for what it was. She had run from him once, and now he thought he had the upper hand.
"I don't believe," Iris said lightly, "that you've introduced yourself yet."
The General's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe I need an introduction," he said dismissively. He knew she was aware of who he was. But she was not just going to let him have the satisfaction of getting away with it.
And so, Iris gave him what she imagined to be a winning smile. "I believe your status would say otherwise, General."
Iris had the satisfaction of seeing Vandor's eyes widen, just for a second, at her blatant show of self-assurance. He advanced towards her threateningly, and it took all of Iris's willpower not to step back. The lycan General stared down at her, this time not bothering to conceal the hostility in his gaze.
"Let me make one thing very clear, Silvon. I only have one Monarch, and he is currently sitting on the throne."
"Who you serve is your business," Iris answered coolly, craning her neck upwards to meet his glare head on. "I did not ask you about where your loyalty lies, any fool could see that. I believe, I asked you for your name." And if Iris put as much of her command into that last word as she was capable of doing – well no one had to know, now did they?
And Vandor certainly wasn't going to tell anyone, not if the way his jaw was twitching as he forced himself to resist her was any indication. Iris tried not to feel smug as she took a small step forward, just enough so that there was barely any space left between them. But her heart was still racing with self preservation and an irrational sense of confidence. It was a dangerous mix.
"Your name." Iris repeated, this time, making her command obvious.
She did not drop her gaze. Although the General was terrifying, Iris did not sense the same oppression that she had felt when faced with Darius.
Arlo had been right. She did not have to bow to this man.
Iris knew there was no chance that Vandor was just going to introduce himself now that she had humiliated him, but still, she had the satisfaction of watching the vein in the middle of the General's handsome forehead throb slightly.
"You see," she said lightly, "I know the 3rd and 4th Commanders, Mizuki and Gabriel, and the 1st Commander happens to be the lycan who raised me. But I don't know you." Iris gave the General a calculating look that made him visibly bristle. But still no bite. So, she pushed her luck and dropped more bait. "Darius hasn't told anyone else about me. How do I know you aren't a traitor-?
Snap.
"Insolent girl," Vandor snarled, surging forward in fury to back Iris up against the coral. His hands came up on either side of her, caging her in, and behind her the horses whinnied in alarm. She heard the wood behind her splinter in his grasp. "How dare you address his Majesty so informally. Show some respect."
"Why should I," Iris gasped, "who are you, to order me?"
"I am Vandor, his Excellency's second in Command," the General snarled. "I have served his Majesty for longer than you've been alive. Take back your words."
What are you, five? Iris wanted to scream at him. "If you've been alive so long, then you should know how to better control your temper," she said instead, her tone one of mild disgust.
This time, it was a vein on the General's neck that was pulsing. Iris thought that perhaps she could have left that last comment unsaid. It was good to be confident, but overconfidence was just asking for disaster.
"What is going on here?"
Now that voice was more familiar, and this time the shiver that raced up Iris's spine was one that, strangely enough, she did not mind.
For a moment, Vandor remained locked in place, staring down at Iris with eyes that expressed he wanted nothing more in that second, than to grind her into the ground under one of his polished black boots.
But then the voice came again, and this time it was colder than before. "Move away from her. Now."
A muscle jumped in the General's jaw. "Yes, my Lord," he gritted out, withdrawing slowly. Iris looked to the side and saw that finger marks had been etched into the wood of the coral. "Forgive me."
As soon as Vandor stepped aside, Darius came into view. His expression was impassive as ever, but Iris saw a familiar storm brewing in his eyes.
His gaze flickered from her, to Vandor. "What is going on," he asked in a clipped tone, "Vandor, you're attracting a crowd. Be more mindful of your surroundings. You're at home now."
"Yes, my Lord." The General painted a different picture, with his eyes lowered down to the ground. Iris ground her teeth in annoyance. How one man could go from being absolutely terrifying one moment, to completely docile the next, she did not know.
Darius's head swung back to Iris. There was silence for a moment, and then he spoke.
"Are you okay?"
Iris gathered herself and pushed herself away from the coral with a tight smile. "I'm fine," she said, meeting Darius's eyes just for the satisfaction of seeing Vandor prickle visibly in the background, "General Vandor, was just introducing himself." Her eyes curved in humour, as she turned to offer Vandor a smile so sweet she was surprised her teeth didn't rot straight out of her mouth. "Weren't you Vandor?" She added, dropping his title, just because she could.
"That's right, Princess," the General replied stiffly, but she could see him brewing. She would have to avoid him after this. That much was certain.
"Is that so?" Turning back to Darius, Iris was surprised to see a slight trace of humour lingering in his eyes. He stepped forward, ignoring his General to stare at Iris broodingly. "Well then, I am glad to see the two of you getting along." His eyes flickered to the fence behind Iris's head, and she knew he saw the finger marks imprinted there.
"I wouldn't say we were 'getting along'," Iris said ruefully, "but tolerance should be achievable."
This time Darius really did laugh. It was a soft one, a quiet huff of breath that might have gone unnoticed, had he not been so close. But Iris felt her heart flutter unfairly all the same. "Do you hear that Vandor?" Darius's attention snapped to the Commander, "The Princess deems you tolerable. Count yourself lucky and make sure it stays that way. The moment she finds you intolerable, you will be answering to me."
"Yes, my King." Vandor grumbled sourly.
"Good." Darius moved to unfasten the gate to the coral, his expression impassive once again. He did not spare another glance in Iris's direction. "Vandor, ride back with me to the castle first. I know you've just returned back but I need you to accompany me on a short mission."
"Yes, Majesty."
"You're leaving," Iris had already known, but she could not help but voice it regardless.
Darius's black and white stallion clattered from the coral with the King astride it's back, and when Darius finally looked down at Iris, he had never seemed so far away.
"Yes," his eyes were hard, "I have business in the Water Kingdom. Wait here for Arlo, he will be back soon. You will return with them. Do not leave this spot. If anyone asks, you are a solider charged with minding the horses."
"Yes," Iris swallowed down her frustration, unsure why she was feeling that way in the first place.
For just a little bit longer, the King remained in place, his stallion chomping at the bit eagerly. Darius's grey eyes were unreadable as he stared at Iris, and she felt it was unfair, when she knew her emotions were displayed on her face so clearly.
"Be safe, while I am gone." He said then, and she did not mistake the light command that was placed in his tone. She felt the command, but when it reached her, it washed over her cleanly – ineffective.
And then he was gone, the stallion clattering away over the cobblestones with a swish of his tail, Vandor hot on his King's heels with a parting look of scorn thrown in Iris's direction.
And all Iris was left with, was a hollow ache in her chest that she could not explain.
*
Authors Note: Depending on when you read this - I did end up re-editing Vandor's description a little bit so that he is wearing gloves (a detail I forgot to add earlier). You'll understand why later on :)