Throwing the Gauntlet

Chapter 5

Frey used the ladder leaning against the bookcase to get to the top shelf. He fingered the bridges of the books until he found the one he was looking for. He pulled it out and smiled at the familiar cover. Perfect.

“Frey?”

Frey jumped and gripped the ladder tightly as it wobbled. Lain came around the corner in the next second and raised a brow when she spotted him.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?”

“Well, it looks like you’re pulling down half the library,” Lain said, pointing to the formidable pile of books teetering on a nearby table. “But I know you already have a library worth of books in your room, so I’m wondering why.”

“I put half of them back,” Frey said defensively. And who gave a s**t? It wasn’t like anyone else in the castle seemed to use them. If someone wanted them back all they had to do was ask. Besides that, he needed more because in just a week he had read through the entire collection in his room with the wolf.

 Lain looked over the books he had chosen. She picked up one of the art books. “Charcoals and pastels? I’ve never seen you use those.”

“Thought I’d try something new,” Frey said, trying to go for a flippant tone. He was not going to tell her that the paints weren’t quite working the way he wanted them to and he wanted to try a different medium. He wouldn’t be able to get the golden eyes with the charcoal but sometimes a tiny bit of colour in a black and white could be very effective. It had worked before with his paints. He’d never done anything with charcoal, or pastels, but he was willing to give it a go and he was always happy to find a new way to express his art.

Lain shrugged and picked a new book. “Frankenstein, really?”

“It’s a classic. Is there something you wanted?”

Lain chucked the book back on the pile. “Your father is looking for you.”

“What else is new?”

“You’re supposed to be entertaining your guests.”

Frey rolled his eyes and threw the book he was holding to Lain and climbed down the ladder. “I’m busy.”

“I can see that.”

Frey headed to the historical section. He’d never really been much into history but maybe it was time to learn something new. He wondered what kind of art they had back then. It was funny that he’d never really wondered that before now. He’d been more invested in the modern arts.

“Are you listening to me?”

“Sure,” Frey said absently, as he looked through the collection.

“Frey!”

“For fangs sake, what? I’m busy!”

“Take that tone with me again and you’ll be more than busy.”

Frey sighed and sunk into the nearest seat. “I know what my father wants, and I’m not going to be used as some kind of lamb to the slaughter for his machinations. Why does it even matter if I’m married? He already has control of the vampire hordes.”

“Who knows? Have you met her yet? I see you conveniently weren’t there to greet them when they arrived.”

“I was busy.” Well, fighting with the wolf and trying to make him eat could be considered being busy. Considering the stupid stubborn creature still hadn’t eaten anything even Frey thought it was absurd that he was trying to force the issue. He suspected it was usually the other way around; you know, starving them to make them weak, or whatever. But he just wanted the obstinate mule to f*****g eat something. Today would mark almost two weeks since he had last had a bite of anything. Didn’t they need to eat? Wasn’t he hungry?

He felt like he was having more conversations with himself than ever before, because the wolf still hadn’t responded to anything he had said and Frey just couldn’t help himself and kept trying to goad him into saying something, anything.

‘You’ve been awfully busy lately. I haven’t seen you in the training centre all week.”

“I actively try and avoid that place.”

“I’ve noticed that. That’s why I made specific times for you to be scheduled in there. And you’ve now skipped three lessons.”

Frey groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Is there something non nag related that you wanted me for?”

“Not really. But I would suggest finding your father before he finds you,” she said, and with a wave, she walked off.

Frey resisted the urge to poke his tongue at her retreating back. Barely.

--

Frey tried not to cringe when his father caught up with him as he was heading towards the stairs that would take him downstairs and to his captive.

“Where are you taking those?”

“To my room,” Frey said. He thanked the fang that even though he was headed for the dungeon room, it passed by his room and he hadn’t gotten that far yet so technically he wasn’t lying at this stage. Besides, the books would go to his room, eventually. 

“How is your training going?”

Which one, Frey wondered; the one where he was supposed to grow up or the one where he was supposed to tame the giant beast he had chained up? The beast that wouldn’t even eat when he was told, he thought grumpily.

“Fine.”

“I hope you’re taking this seriously.”

“Of course, father.”

“I’d like to present him at the next Gala.”

Frey stopped walking. “But that’s only two months away.” And what the hell did he mean ‘present’ him? None of the tame wolves stayed in the castle after their training was complete. Frey had never even seen a wolf before he’d laid eyes on the one he currently had downstairs. It was the first one that had ever been brought into the throne room and chained for everyone to see, as well. What the hell was going on?

“You’ll be required at the gathering tonight as well,” his father continued. “I expect to see you well dressed and paying extra attention to Lady Clarissa. She expects you to shower her with all the attention accustomed to her station.”

What station? She was just the daughter of a stuck-up asshole of a dignitary. “…yes, father.”

“Don’t be late.”

And then he was gone as quickly as he had come.

He entered the room with the wolf, in a foul mood. He was tired, he was hungry and he was incredibly fed up with all the bureaucratic s**t he had to deal with. For over one-hundred years his father had left him alone. What the hell was so bloody important now that suddenly everything hindered on what Frey was up to? He felt like he couldn’t turn around without feeling like his every move was being watched.

He dropped the books in his arms in a heap. He couldn’t care less if he damaged any of them; they could easily be replaced. He gave them a kick and they flew across the floor with a satisfying clatter. He glared at the wolf, who was – of course – staring at him. He noted that the servants had already left his food on the trolley.

He was suddenly furious. He was so sick and f*****g tired of being manipulated into everything.

“What? What!” He crowded the wolf, forcing it to move backwards before their heads butted. “Why won’t you f*****g talk to me? Speak! I have done nothing but be nice to you and this silence is getting on my f*****g nerves!”

The creature raised a brow. Frey clenched his jaw and pushed away from the wall. “That first night doesn’t count. It was payback for my arm you asshole! And my chest! And you know what, f**k you! If you hadn’t gotten caught neither of us would be in this f****d up mess!”

The growl that erupted from the wolf had Frey instinctively taking a step back. “Oh what, you don’t like that? Well pooh for you, you f*****g bastard because this is your fault. And what, your solution is to starve to death? If that’s the case I might as well slice off your head now and save us both the trouble!”

He grabbed the cutlery in frustration and cut a piece of meat furiously. He shoved it against the wolfs mouth roughly, not caring that it smeared some of the juices across its cheek, and dribbled down its chin. “f*****g eat you son of a b***h!”

Their eyes locked for a heartbeat and then the mouth slowly opened and took the meat. Frey couldn’t look away as he chewed. He had never seen a more relieving sight as his jaw moving.

No. He wasn’t relieved. He wasn’t. He was just happy that he wolf was finally listening to him. Finally f*****g eating something and doing what he was bloody told.

That was all.

He cut another piece, and then another, until the two large steaks were gone.

“Do you-do you want more?”

His heart skipped a beat when it nodded. He moved to the door, making sure not to rush and seem over-eager. He ordered the guard to get another four pieces of steak. He didn’t know if the wolf would want something else, but he wasn’t going to push at this stage. It was enough that he was finally eating.

--

Frey ducked behind the pillar, not daring to peek.

“What are you doing?”

Frey jumped and grabbed his chest. “Lain, you scared the s**t out of me!”

“What are you doing?” Lain asked, again. Her arms were folded and she looked amused.

“Is she looking for me?” Frey hissed.

“Who?”

Frey gave her a deadpan look. “Seriously?”

Lain chuckled, and peeked around the pillar. “She’s talking to some of the ladies of the castle. But I’m sure she’ll be looking for you in a second. Didn’t your father tell you to stick close to her?”

“Yeah, so?”

Lain shrugged. “It’s your funeral. She’s coming over, though.”

“What? How does she know?”

“Probably because I’m here.”

Frey bit his lips. f**k, f**k, f**k. He did not want to get stuck conversing with her again. He held out a hand to Lain. “Come, dance with me.”

He pulled her out onto the dance floor before she could protest and twirled her around. She giggled and gripped his shoulders as they came together.

“You really think this is going to work?” she asked.

“Well, worth a try.”

Lain merely smiled at him and slowed their movements. “You’re supposed to lead, Frey.”

“Right, sorry,” Frey said. He switched his movements. “This is your fault for always insisting on being the ‘man’ when we practiced.”

“Because you were hopeless.”

“When am I not hopeless?”

“Well, there is that.”

Frey spun her around and laughed out loud as she exaggerated the movement and made her dress flare out beautifully, twisting a few more times than necessary.

“Nice,” he said.

“Why, thank you,” she said sweetly.

He raised a hand, stroked her cheek and tugged a curled strand of her red hair that had snuck out of her messy bun. “You’re my best friend.”

“Why so serious?” she asked, laughter dancing in her eyes.

Frey shrugged and twirled her in, then out and picked her up by her waist and spun them around. She stepped down gracefully as he let go and moved effortlessly back into the movements of the dance.

“You clean up nice, you know,” she told him, rolling her thumb over his jacket covered shoulder.

“Why, thank you,” he said cheekily. She smacked him in the arm.

“Your father is watching.”

“Let him watch, I don’t give a flying fuck.”

By the time the song was finished they were both breathless. They left the floor arm in arm, giggling to each other as they tried not to trip over their own feet.

“Frey.”

Frey stopped himself short as his father cornered him. He did not look happy to see either of them. Lains hand tightened on Frey’s arm.

“Father.”

“Clarissa would like to dance, do go ask her. Lain, a word?”

Frey looked at Lain, worried. She gave him a reassuring smile and pushed him. “Off you go, the lady wants her dance.”

Any other time and he would have mouthed ‘traitor’ at her but he was far too worried about the way his father dragged her away. He barely noticed as he spoke to the Lady Clarissa and asked her for a dance.

He did, however, notice that long after their dance finished Lain and his father were still nowhere to be seen.

--

Frey wandered through the empty halls. The party was still going strong but as soon as he had unlatched Clarissa’s hand from his arm he had gotten out of the room as quickly as possible.

He poked his head into the training room that was reserved for the royal members of the castle and stepped inside when he realised Lain was in there.

“Lain?”

Lain glanced at him from where she was pummelling a punching bag. She had changed from her black gown to one of her training outfits that fit her like a glove.

“Everything okay? What happened with my father?”

She kept punching the bag. “Nothing. It was fine.”

“What are you doing in here? Why didn’t you come back to the party?”

“I was told to retire for the night.”

Frey scowled and leaned his back against the closest wall to Lain. “Are you serious?”

“It’s-not-like-I-didn’t-expect-it,” Lain said, punching furiously. She took a deep breath and clutched the bag to stop it from swinging. “We kind of asked for it after that dance. You know what your father wanted you to do. You should still be there.”

Frey grabbed a towel from the rack and threw it to her. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t bad, he just wanted me to leave the party. It’s not a big deal, Frey.”

“Yes, it is. I’m sick of this micromanaging he’s been doing lately.”

“He’s trying to groom you for his position so he’s trying to reign you in. It makes sense.”

“Excuse me? You agree with this s**t?”

“I didn’t say I agreed with it,” Lain said. She threw the now soaked towel back to Frey and he squeaked and jumped out of the way. “It just makes sense what he’s doing if that’s what his end result is. That’s not a reflection on whether I think it’s right or not.” She sighed and laid down on the floor. “Why do you keep fighting this so hard? You were born to do it, you’ve always known you’d have to take over sooner or later.”

“I was hoping I might have a few more hundred years,” Frey muttered. He lay beside Lain and they linked their fingers together. “I don’t like the way they run things, and how much appearances seem to be all that matters. It’s why I’ve always avoided it.”

“I know.”

They lay in silence, and Frey closed his eyes, not caring if he fell asleep or not.