Rowan oils down his chest and sharpens his weapons as he prepares for the Hunt.
It is a sacred tradition that he now has the chance to participate in now he's come of age. Kaiden, who's doing the same opposite him, is also allowed to participate.
The naturalists are always the most successful clan with big bounties of fish and meat. Kaiden always loves to boast of his kin's superiority where hunting is involved; he especially loves to boast when Nimue is around. Though Rowan doesn't know why as Nimue may act like a warrior but she is a strong naturalist herself, she knows of their abilities to use the gift with hunting animals.
Both of them are part of his cadre along with Morrigan and no matter how much they both deny it, it's painfully obvious to Rowan and Morrigan the feelings both Nimue and Kaiden harbour for each other.
"Pass me the flask brother," Kaiden calls from across the room, reaching his bare arm out, careful not to knock over the oil lamp that keeps the tent light in the evening.
Rowan puts down his weapons for a moment, reaching for the flask of water and tosses it to Kaiden's outstretched hand, which catches it effortlessly.
Kaiden takes a long swig of water before setting it down as a bead of sweat trickles down his face as his expression becomes worried.
"On second thought, is there any wine?" Kaiden asks, smoothing his dark blonde hair back before letting out a nervous laugh, "I think I may need it before I go to ask Nimue to paint some symbols on me for the Hunt."
Ah. So the night has made him bolder than usual. Rowan smirks, shaking his head as he passes Kaiden a jug of fresh wine.
Kaiden pours himself a large glass before downing it completely making a slight face as he swallows all the contents.
Finally he slams the empty glass back down to the nearby table and looks up with a mask of confidence on his face.
"I'm going over to ask her now before I lose my nerves," Kaiden says, nervousness heavy in his tone as he shows a bit of vulnerability to his best friend.
"I don't think losing your nerves is your top priority because after you go and talk to Nimue you might lose your balls instead," Rowan says laughing.
Kaiden gulps, his slightly drunken confidence diminishing slightly,
"Yes I'm rather attached to my balls so losing them would be a problem," Kaiden says, trying to lighten up the mood and calm his own anxiety.
Suddenly he nods and a determined look settles on his face,
"I'm off to face certain doom now brother," Kaiden says solemnly, "wish me luck."
Then he leaves the tent, a confident step in his walk.
Rowan smiles, rolling his eyes, sharpening his weapons one last time. Good luck to Kaiden. Confronting the likes of Nimue Murtra can be a dangerous task indeed.
But confronting the likes of Queen Nalani is another treacherous task in itself. She's practically a child of the Goddess.
He puts down his knives and weapons and looks at down at them, satisfied. They are now polished, shiny and sharp enough to cut cleanly through any animals he might hunt. He has to claim some victory or he'd never heard the end of it.
But in Bastian City the first thing you learn when you're given a weapon is how to take care of it properly. Warriors who don't take care of their weapons are not respected in the war city.
The tent flap suddenly rustles and Nalani enters the tent.
She looks beautiful but that is to be expected.
Her hair is free and wild as the waves of glossy black hair cascade down her back. Rowan wonders if it still smells like jasmine as it usually does or if it has picked up the musky unique scent of Innisfuil Valley.
She wears a loose black dress suited for warm weather and the lustful eyes of suitors. The dress is sleeveless with a plunging neckline that reveals some of her cleavage and the dress stops mid thigh revealing her marvellous long legs that are slightly tanned from the hours outside in the city of Rolanth.
Her skin, which is already slightly tanned from her training outside with Morrigan, now emits an almost golden hue as well, making her skin glow as if it truly is fire that prowls beneath her skin as well as the storm inside.
There is a light touch of cosmetics applied on her face but no jewellery to give her a natural elemental look unlike the poisoners who will have piled tons of cosmetics and jewels onto their pampered little poisoner queen. But not matter how much makeup the Arrons smother their queen with, she could never compare to his Nalani, his light-bringer.
Her eyes, normally so dark and black that it feels like staring into a perpetual abyss seem to have some light deep within them, brought out by the specially applied cosmetics that cover her eyelids. He can always got lost in those eyes but today even his soul has truly been pierced by them.
She has always been beautiful but Rowan has never wanted her more than he has in this moment.
"You look ..." He trails off trying to find the right words to describe her beauty.
Nalani only smirks at him, walking in confidently saying, "I think the words you were looking for are beautiful, ravishing and just generally spectacular," she says, giving him a a twirl for as she shows him her dress.
Nalani loves seeing his reaction but she would've made this much effort anyway. If death is inevitable she may as well looks good as she passes. Death feels only moments away now as after Beltane the year of bloodshed truly begins but for now at least Nalani can enjoy herself for one last taste of the salvation of love and freedom.
Meanwhile Rowan can only nod as he desperately tries to keep his eyes on her face and not keep them from wandering.
"I'm not even wearing a corset," she says, chuckling lightly, "you should've seen the look on Andrea Arron's face when I walked past the poisoner encampment."
Rowan joins in her laughter replying, "I can imagine."
A moment of silence passes between them and then Rowan becomes painfully aware of his own lustful stares at Nalani and looks away quickly, blushing.
Almost reading his thoughts she raises her eyebrows at him and smirks even more so before moving right beside him.
Without warning she marches up to him, pushes him down on the bed and straddles him, taking his face in her hands in a dominant way and kisses him but only once, pulling away quickly, mischief dancing in her eyes,
"Consider that your Beltane present," she says, smiling as she sees his happy but dazed face.
Her face then turns expectant but still mischievous as she speaks again,
"So where's mine?" She questions, hunger evident in her eyes as she makes her insinuations.
"It's a surprise," he says and she lets out a frustrated huff.
"I hate surprises," Nalani says dryly, slight wariness evident in her tone.
"I know," Rowan says smirking at her frustrations, "but it'll be worth the wait."
She still looks frustrated at first but then Nalani nods, acceptance coming to her as she lets out a small smile,
"Well I trust you," she says slowly, the word sounding foreign to her as she lets her vulnerability show.
He recognises her letting him in slightly and showing her vulnerability to him,
"I appreciate that," Rowan says, one of his hands taking hers in a gesture of affection, "now I want to ask you something."
"Anything," She answers immediately.
"Will you paint me?" He says, his hand picking up the black paint jar in preparation. Every hunter who participated in the hunt is painted, usually by the women they love as it supposedly gives them good luck in their hunts.
"Of course," she says without hesitation as she takes the jar, looking into the dark substance below, "Now let's see I will be the artist and you my muse."
"Would you prefer a nude model because that can be arranged," Rowan says with a smirk, his boldness coming out to play.
Nalani scoffs, "There's nothing worth seeing under those trousers that I'm certain of."
"Care to wager on that?" Rowan questions trying to bait her.
Nalani only shakes her head and climbs off of his lap, "Not today, I would feel bad for you when you lose," she says and then pulls him up off of his bed, "hurry up Rowan we don't have all night."
"Now there's the bossiness I remember and the impatience."
"My best qualities," she says smiling, "how else would I assert my dominance."
Rowan raises an eyebrow up, "So you think you're the dominant one in this relationship?" He questions.
Nalani looks amused by the question,
"Oh Ro," She says, putting down the paint jar as she pushes him down on the bed again and climbs on top of him, moving so close to his face that they're noses are touching, "I know I'm the dominant one in this relationship."
Rowan doesn't get a chance to respond as Nalani takes full control.
She kisses him again slowly but passionately but it's the kind of kiss that leaves him wanting more. His hands start to tangle in her hair and he breathes in her addictive scent. It is jasmine just as he had thought it would be. They kiss again but as he tries to keep it going she pulls away and gets up again,
"Now come on, it's time to paint you or you'll never make it to the Hunt," she says pulling him up again, "and we need to be quick because Vivianne is probably pulling her hair out trying to find me."
"Probably," he agrees picking up the jar of paint again and passing it to her, "my mother will not be happy when she finds us in her."
"If she finds us," Nalani reminds him with a small smile, preparing to paint him.
"Aren't you ever worried that we'll get caught?" He questions, genuinely curious.
Suddenly Finn, her previous lover, comes into her mind. The one who was killed on her birthday after Priestess Mab saw her and him together.
The thought makes her sad but Finn was only a commoner of little importance and Rowan is the son of the strongest elemental family in Rolanth and of a Black Council member. What could they possibly do to him or her if they found out? She would never let them hurt him anyway. Never.
Shaking her thoughts away she replies, "No," she says in partial honesty and then she smiles, "and what would they do kill me?"
Rowan smirks at the question and they both chuckle, "I see your point."
"And when I'm the official queen crowned and my sisters are dead then I will appoint you as seat on my Black Council or the Queensguard if you prefer," she says, giving him a generous offer, "that way we'll be able to stay close together when I live in the Volroy Palace."
"That is a generous offer," he states, considering it silently.
Neither of her mention that he will have to be her lover in secret, watch as she married and bedded another. He could never be king consort, it will be one of these mainlander suitors who arrive at the Disembarking tomorrow.
He knows how they will watch her during the Quickening, he knows how their lustful eyes will roam her body, all of them wanting to rip her Beltane dress off of her. Her king consort will love her. She is beautiful, wild and powerful and besides pretty queens are easy to love. It will make him jealous but he will have to watch.
It is his own fault really. Only fools fall in love with queens. Only king consorts can survive a queens love. And Rowan could never be that.
Not noticing his brief silence, Nalani waves her hand in dismissal casually,
"It's nothing, just a little payment for your necessary services," she says, kissing him once more, her hands exploring his short hair and his exploring her long waves once again.
They keep kissing and kissing both of them wanting to take it further but tonight is not the night for that. That night may never come for he has heard that mainlanders expect a maiden for a wife when they marry. It's absurd but he doesn't want to cause problems for Nalani.
Shaking his thoughts away, he continues to kiss her, letting his hands roam freely, both taking advantage of what little they have each other. Neither of them are fools. They both know every second they spend together is borrowed time.
Eventually they both must breath as they pull apart momentarily.
"Do you think we'll ever get enough of this?" Nalani questions in between their kisses, breathless as she takes a moment to breath. Rowan is a good kisser and fluent in the art of love, she enjoys it. And she is sure that when they eventually lie together then he will be as good a lover as he is a kisser. But it wouldn't have mattered to her anyway, she will love him all the same.
"No," Rowan says honestly, kissing her again and then leaving a trail of faint love bites down her neck, "the only way I'll ever leave you is if your order me away."
Nalani chuckles slightly as she takes his face in her hands and looks him in the eye,
"That will never happen," she says in all honesty.
And it is true. For now she even believes it. She will always keep Rowan close, he is both her protector and lover of sorts as he hasn't taken her to bed yet. Though she is equally also his protector. They will protect each other.
"Now I really must paint you or the Hunt will be over before you even get outside," she says smiling and he reluctantly lets her go as she gets the paint once more.
She dips her fingers in and then removes two fingers from the jar to reveal the inly black substance on them. The substance feels surprisingly cool and comfortable on her fingers but foreign. She has never touched paint before, especially this war paint that is fit for hunting as hunting is a battle of sorts, one between the hunter and the prey.
After she finishes studying the paint, she starts to raise her hand to his bare chest but then looks into his eyes in question.
He nods and taking a deep breath she touches his toned chest, starting with with a spiral as she begins her artwork.
- - - -
The sound of faint voices and the smell and sight of smoke from bonfires is the first thing Achilles Murtra takes note of as him and his camping party of suitors near Innisfuil Valley.
The temperature is surprisingly warm for spring and makes the back of his neck sweat slightly - his loose golden hair doesn't help either.
Many male warriors in Bastian have shoulder length hair and both he and his father have shoulder length hair which they keep loose normally unless the weather is too warm.
He is a war gifted man of twenty summers and the oldest child of the famous Pele Murtra and her husband Malakai Murtra.
His family favours red hair and green eyes but he only got the green eyes - instead of possessing the flaming curls of red like the rest of his family, he possesses his father's golden blonde hair. Needless to say he looks out of place with his hair when he's with his younger siblings. But he still has those green Murtra eyes.
Finally though he has returned, fresh from the shores and excitement of Salkades. From something beyond the island. After all, most islanders never leave.
He has picked up a few jewels, gold and riches along the way, along with new weapons and a few new warrior friends.
He and these friends had drunk until they blacked out and bedded every young, pretty woman at each port they visited and every city.
But that's in the past and he must disregard his wild ways and now dedicate himself to becoming a prominent warrior to make his mother proud.
And he has come back at an eventful time. It is Beltane and after Beltane the Ascension Year begins. A year of bloodshed and war. Well for the three queens.
It makes his eyes light up with excitement. He is no stranger to war.
For Fennbirn doesn't have allies everywhere, especially as they have only recently rejoined the rest of the world. There are still battles to be fought, no matter how small and Achilles has fought in every one of them. War is a game to him and he can't wait to play in this game of thrones.
As he approaches the camp he sees many young warriors and hunters already outside, freshly painted in what must be preparation from the Hunt. He had not realised that the Hunt was this soon and is too tired to participate much to his annoyance. He would like to show off his skills.
He sent word to his mother when he left Salkades and as soon as his ship landed at Longmorrow Bay so his family are all assembled outside to greet him along with a few other important warriors.
They are smiling, standing tall straight and proud, the picture of a united family.
His mother is in the centre and she hasn't changed a bit, she's still the strong slightly intimidating woman she's always been but with a soft spot for her family. Her face only looks slightly more weary than it did but it is to be expected for she is responsible for the entire island.
To her left is his father, whose dark golden hair is loose like Achilles' own hair and his beard is trimmed neatly; Malakai Murtra stands supportively at his mother's side - always her fiercest protector. Though it is more the other way around with the strength Pele's war gifted and her fierceness.
By his mother's other side is Morrigan, who has the same determined look that is permanently etched onto her face but she is taller and seems more sure of herself than before. There is a certain light in her eyes, they gleam with a new purpose. Achilles recognises it because that is exactly how he felt when he left Fennbirn.
Minerva has changed from the scrawny little shy twelve year old to a taller, more moody looking fourteen year old. She looks happy to see him but otherwise disinterested in the entire situation.
Little Ares isn't here but Achilles suspects he has the same youthful face of a child and a playfulness that the world hasn't knocked out from him yet; Achilles has always been glad for it. He can't wait to see him when they all return to Bastian City. Home. Finally
His other sister Nimue stands next to Morrigan in stark contrast with her waves of jet black hair and the piercing blue eyes. She has grown up now and she is beautiful. But he still sees her as a cute little kid who looked up to him, just like how he sees Morrigan.
He makes the last few steps to the camp before breaking his serious expression and going to embrace his mother first,
"Mother," Achilles says, hugging her tightly and then going to hug his father, who is beaming at his oldest son, "father, I've missed my two best fighting instructors."
Pele shoots him a look while Malakai only chuckles and Achilles smirks, "And I've missed my dear loving parents of course," he says, still smiling as he and Malakai exchange a smile and Pele looks happier now as she gives her son a look of approval.
"And of course I've missed my dear little sisters," he says turning to greet the three of them.
Morrigan gives him a smile and pulls him into a brief hug, "Big brother," she says in recognition. It is the most emotion he'll get from her but Morrigan isn't usually one for affection. Any emotion she usually has if anger when Achilles used to knock her to the ground when sparring.
Achilles moves past Morrigan and pulls his younger sister into a brief hug,
"Minny," Achilles says, smirking as her face darkens in distaste.
"No one calls me that anymore," Minerva states, rolling her eyes but she can't keep the smile from her face completely.
"I must be no one then," he says, messing up her hair softly much like used to do to Ares and her when she was younger.
Minerva's face instantly darkens even more and she tries to smooth her wild curls down as she turns and storms back to her tent.
"What about me then Achilles?" Nimue says crossly, folding her arms, though amusement twinkles in her blue eyes, "are you not going to greet your old partner in crime?"
Achilles smirks and pulls her into a bear hug, though she seems so tiny to him now because he's grown into his full height, "You've grown up almost as beautifully as me," he says, genuinely complimenting her whilst also boosting his own ego.
"Ooo what a compliment, watch out or maybe next I'll get a silly hero haircut of my own to rival yours," Nimue says dryly.
She has missed him. They were good friends in Bastian City. Always bantering.
"Goddess, with a haircut like mine you'll have all the men and women of Bastian to your bed, though you might already for all I know," he says, eyebrow raised.
"Who told you?" Nimue exclaims in mock shock, "was it by endless string of lovers?"
"Of course," Achilles says very seriously, "I've heard you're the worst heartbreaker, you flatter them, sleep with them and then dump them."
Nimue nods, playing along, "you know that sounds so familiar now you've brought it up, I wonder who does that ... oh would you look at that, it's you," she exclaims in exaggeration still enjoying their little game.
"True," Achilles says, shrugging before laughing and Nimue follows suit. Morrigan rolls her eyes at their usual banter and leaves them to it. When Achilles lived in Bastian City they always had to share Nimue as both of their best friends.
"See you later Nimmy," Achilles says with a wink and Nimue salutes to him in response.
Achilles then strolls past his family and greets the Anteres and the Beaulins, winking at both Elena Beaulin and Wren Vatros as he goes.
Elena looks at him shyly but also in plain awe while Wren, a little more bold, smiles suggestively back at him.
Oh the joys of being back on the island, he must remember sample the war ladies at his first chance.
The mainland girls are fine but they lack a certain passion that the war gifted women, and men, possess. He mainly prefers women but he doesn't mind a man in bed every now and again.
As he goes to start flirting with a nearby priestess this time, his mother suddenly appears behind him causing him to turn around.
"I must speak with you my son," she whispers, gesturing with her head to the biggest tent in the war camp and then she starts walking leaving Achilles to roll his eyes but nonetheless follow his mother for a secret discussion.
They walk along the thick grass, all bright and vibrant green much like the pretty yellow flowers that have taken root in it. The skies are an array of light blues and the sun shines brightly overhead, light streaming in through the valley, warming it in its gentle embrace.
Despite the island's 'barbaric' customs it still has its charms and springs on Fennbirn are beautiful and almost peaceful.
Wordlessly, his mother steps through the tent flap, the two guards stationed at her doors bowing their heads in respect as she passes.
He ignores both of the statues as he follows his mother in.
The tent smells like his mother's favourite scent. Sage. A strange smell. Known for warding off bad spirits. But his mother has always been superstitious, ever since his aunt Hecate claimed to have seen a ghost. But she may have just had a vision of the past, she is sight gifted after all.
"You're not trying to ward me off with all this sage are you?" Achilles jokes in an attempt to loosen his mother up.
Pele only says 'no' shortly and then goes to sit at the head of her table. Achilles sighs, it's going to be a serious matter then, but takes a seat next to hers as she gestures for him to sit.
"So why am I here?" He questions, genuinely curious. The only time his mother used to request to talk with him alone was when he was in trouble. But he's only just got here so he couldn't have been in trouble yet.
Pele sits so tall and straight, with her business face on and not her motherly face. Definitely a serious matter then.
"Achilles," She begins warily, "you are an accomplished warrior, one of the best of your generation some might argue."
Achilles raises his eyebrows in surprise at this, "Oh," he says, still surprised and slightly wary of this rare flattery, "thank you."
He wasn't expecting a compliment, his mother is harsh, but he knows that his mother didn't just call him in here to flatter him and boost his ego.
"It's because of your skill that I am asking that you became a personal guard to Queen Nalani, the elemental," She says and he immediately starts to form a protest, "You will do this because I made a deal with Vivianne Westwood, promising her four of my best warriors to guard the queen as well as backing Queen Nalani in her bid for the throne. Three other warriors will guard her but you will be her personal guard and guard her at all times."
Pele then clicks her fingers and a maid, who he hadn't spotted when he first came in, soon comes running from the corner of the room, a glass of wine in hand.
Pele makes Achilles wait for her to continue as she swallows the contents and he catches the young maid starting at him lustfully as she waits for the glass. She's pretty, if a little plain. Likely giftless.
After a minute his mother lowers the glass, handing it to the maid who reluctantly leaves to refill it and then she continues,
"Perhaps one day you will be in her Queensguard, Perhaps you will even be the Commander," she says, looking hopeful as she tries to persuade him, "it would be an enormous feat for you to rise to a high rank within the Queensguard, as no man has ever done before.You could be the first male Commander if you become her personal guard now. She will learn to trust you and rely on you."
"No absolutely not," he says instantly, "I've just returned from battles in Salkades, I don't want to be in her Queensguard and I am one of your heirs I shouldn't be guarding some elemental girl, I should be with you and the family, in Bastian City, my home."
He runs a hand through his long hair, frustrated with this whole situation.
"I've only just got back and now you want me to leave again," he says, exasperated but then he becomes curious, "and what exactly do you get out of this deal with the Westwoods anyway?"
Pele smiles slightly, "Favours," She says, "lots of favours which I can call in at any time, she will do anything I ask if I guarantee her this and also three guaranteed seats on the Black Council for whomever I choose."
Achilles rolls his eyes and leans back into his chair, still shaking his head. "You're asking me but it's not really a choice is it?" Achilles accuses. He knows his mother.
"No it's not," she says bluntly, "You may have been gone for a while but don't forget I am not only your mother, I am also in charge of Bastian City and this entire damn island so no it's not a choice and yes it is a command that you will follow, this is not a negotiation. Vivianne will even pay you generously for your particular service."
"But mother," Achilles protests in despair, "I don't want to guard this queen and I already have more money and riches than I need from my various travels. I'm already a wealthy man."
Pele's eyes narrow as she locks him with her intense, scary stare, "You will do this Achilles," Pele says, no weakness in her tone or face as she rises above him, "it is an order from the Head of the Black Council."
He sits in silence for a moment as he contemplates and Pele takes this opportunity to present a mini speech.
"Achilles, you have been away a long time, things have shifted, I have enemies at every side and I need to ally myself with the winning side. The Radurons have openly threatened my rule and I'm sure the Arrons are secretly plotting against me. One of these triplets will win and we need to ally ourselves with the one who will help us and that will be Nalani. I'm trying to protect this family's future!"
Achilles is silent for a moment before he goes to speak again but Pele puts a hand out in warning, silencing him immediately.
"I have more power than you little boy and you would do best to remember it," She says in a dangerous formal tone. She is not speaking to him as her mother, she is speaking to him as her general, a war leader but Achilles does not take kindly to being ordered around but he knows that he will have to do this. For a soldier cannot disobey his general.
"Now please go and find Nalani," Pele says, her tone softer, "you will guard her and make sure she doesn't leave her tent during the Hunt."
Achilles reluctantly nods and Pele nods back at him in answer and then gestures for him to leave.
Still angry, he leaves gladly. Now time to find this elemental brat, he thinks as he starts walking into the trees to find the elemental encampment.