Chapter 4 - On A Mission

When Alarick told Thorne that he had decided to hear Erriene out about this mission, the man winced in sympathy.

Thorne, who had a long hair that he kept tied and a black beard that he trims, trotted his horse along with him in the front line. He supposed his party of soldiers was too big, but you never knew with Southerners.

It wasn’t as if he was showing off.

Maybe he was, a little.

“Det taj aquele, hein?” Thorne said, walking on thin ice.

(That one, eh?)

No one ever knew where the line crossed when the subject was Erriene.

Alarick was confused himself.

One thing was for sure, no Northerner ever wanted to speak with Prince Erriene.

It wasn’t because he was rude and spoke nasty about them, no.

It was because the prince could be extremely pleasant, and use that against you. Also because he could manipulate and twist your own words when he wanted something from you, and he would never tell you what it was.

Any other person like that wouldn’t survive a week in Maud because they tended to kill first and question later. Erriene, however, had a way with Maudians that no one else has.

Maudians in general descended from mountain giants which was why they were taller than the average human, and the grunts and growls meant more than it seemed to.

Most noble blood Gythaeans, if not all, descended from elves, and while most of them had the same height as any average human, some still were a bit shorter and had ridiculous pointed ears. Also their language was more sung than said.

The Maudinian language was a pride to their country, because it was the hardest to non-Maudians and downright impossible for Gythaeans.

Aside from his mamkka, the damned Prince from Gytha managed to not only learn the language in two months, but to make it sound soft and pleasant- the growls more like moans, the grunts more like sighs- and no Northerner that met him ever forgave him for doing that.

“Mate ele.” Alarick had said after Erriene walked away from the hall of the castle, looking the ever dignified prince in those ridiculous druid clothes that were in no way woman-like, but Alarick made a point to tell him that every time they met just for spite. “Han omoara lipsit dur.”

(Kill him.)

(He disrespected you.)

“Dintre pe le ai du grozav nu,” Randal had drawled with a pensive expression, “Det ai vrut spui dur rudan mhotha koju niste.”

(Of all the things that you had said)

(That was the greatest one that you did not meant.)

That day, Alarick decided that he hated Erriene.

Sometime later, he decided that he was also irrevocably in love with him, and that’s how he felt about the subject ever since.

It took some time to realize that he craved Erriene. And when he did, he tried to convince himself that it was just the male body, and not the person.

The whores that were sent to him as gifts to pacify him were used to experiment with a man. The ones that looked wanton, he fucked. The beaten and scared, he sends away or made servants out of. There was only one thing that he wanted to hear when he was inside of a man, and it wasn’t crying.

But every time he lay down with a whore, it was Erriene he was thinking of taking, possessing his small body with all he had, giving him no choice but to enjoy it.

Dominating him entirely.

Trying to get it off with a whore to forget the Elf prince or to at least vent his frustrations to someone else only lasted for about a week before he could not even look, let alone touch anyone that is not Erriene. Even imagining that the whore in front of him is the prince isn’t working anymore.

If it isn’t Erriene, then it can’t be anyone at all. It’s sad but it’s true.

If Erriene was a woman, or any low citizen, Alarick would have bought him a long time ago from his family, and tried to win him when he was secured in the castle.

With the way fathers in Gytha married off their daughters like insane men looking for money and status, it would be an easy deal.

But that wasn’t the case.

Erriene was a Royal Prince, so Alarick couldn't have him.

And if he couldn't have him, then he should ignore him.

But at the end of the day, his heart was in such a fragile situation with Erriene. He didn’t think even the Prince knew how much power he had over him, otherwise, he would surely be using that to his advantage.

Alarick never really understood why he had to want the Prince for himself of all people.

How could anybody actually like that man?

That annoying, disrespecting, untamed and uncontrollable creature.

Especially Alarick, who liked to control everything he owned.

Thorne cleared his throat, startling him from his daydreams. The snow was ending in the surreal way that gave Maud Country it’s fame, and they were entering Kalise’s territory.

“Maudian temper, I suppose.” Thorne said in rough Gythanean. “Prince Erriene, I mean.”

All of the soldiers and servant in Maud knows how to speak the common language, albeit not smoothly as the language requires. It was like an unwritten law ever since Aefstine married Randal years ago.

His mamkka was not familiar with the Maudinian language at first and thus, needed a translator to talk to his vaderkka. Miscommunication and misunderstanding used to occur because of it.

Alarick nodded.

“You’re right. Maudian temper, mind of a Southerner. He has always been trouble.”

“Would make a good Queen, though.” Thorne grinned, using the Gythanean term.

Alarick shook his head, smiling softly.

“Make me crazy, that’s what he does.”