Elvi

The Way Of A Royal

The men stepped into a semicircle, giving space for Elvi to reach the King, who sat on the ground, flexing his hand to calm himself. She knelt in front of him, slowly reaching for his hand. His eyes moved to her, paling nearly instantly to his normal brown.

“Elvi,” he said quietly.

“Rowan, are you okay?”

“Thankyou for stopping me.”

“I would say it was my pleasure, but you know how I feel about him.” The shifters around them laughed.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, pulling her closer to him. Elvi stayed quietly. “Did he touch you?” his eyes bore into hers.

“It is unimportant.”

The King growled, making to stand up, the men around them making uncomfortable movements to block the King, all equally uneasy. Elvi placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping him on the ground.

“I need to go see what is happening with the rest of the Coven. They must be terrified.”

“Stay here,” Haydeon said, touching her gently on the shoulder. “I’ll go.” He teleported to the other side of the wagons.

“It is very important, Elvi,” the King said in a dangerous voice.

“I handled it.” The King stared at her, for a long while.

“Did you break ways with Morana?” he asked unexpectedly.

“Well… yes. I mean, she is making public shows with Arryn.”

“She is an i***t,” the King said.

“I agree.”

“Elvi,” called Priestess.

She stood, walking over to the front wagon. Climbing into the back she watched as Priestess wrapped Arryn’s neck, helped with the bandage by Morana. Morana held her head down, avoiding Elvi’s eyes at all cost.

“He will need to return home, so the healers can attend to him. He is lucky he didn’t break his neck. Morana will go back with two others, to attend him. We will continue on.”

“Yes, Priestess. I will inform everyone.” She left the wagon, not giving any of them a second glance. Walking up next to her brother she announced, “Priestess needs two volunteers to escort Arryn and Morana home to the healers.” Two men near the front stepped forward, and exited the charm cautiously.

“How bad is he?” Haydeon asked under his breath.

“I think he is lucky to still have his head attached to his body,” Elvi replied in a matching tone.

“Gods, he really lost control didn’t he?”

“I think so. His eyes were black.”

“They can do that?” Haydeon asked, turning to her quickly.

“I guess so. Maybe it is just a royal thing. I have no idea.”

“Do you think he would have stopped himself if you didn’t?”

“Honestly? I don’t believe so. I think he would have happily killed him.” Haydeon let out a long breath.

“It’s all a bit intense isn’t it. What started it? I was checking the horses.”

“He overheard me talking to Morana,” she answered unhelpfully.

“About?” Haydeon encouraged.

“Arryn trying to encourage me to join their relationship.”

“What!” spluttered Haydeon. “But you are with her.”

“Apparently not anymore.”

“Since when.” Elvi shrugged. “I thought they seemed weirdly attached today.”

“They can have each other. I won’t fight for a cheater. I have no idea how he managed it, but he finally got what he wanted. But apparently it still wasn’t enough because he wanted me in the mix too.”

“Gods that man is sick. I bet he was planning that all along.”

“I think he has been for a while now, yes.”

“My Lady Elvi.” Elvi sighed as Alarik called out to her.

“No rest,” joked Haydeon.

“Apparently,” she replied, walking away. “Yes Alarik. What is it?”

“They are about to move the piece of filth. We were hoping you could distract the King,” he asked hopefully.

“Distract him how?”

“Take him for a walk or something” Alarik answered, shrugging.

“If I must. Hey Wolfman, you’re with me” she finished, by yelling to the King.

Alarik laughed at the King’s expression. He was sure he had never been addressed so informally in his life. The King got to his feet, following her into the trees, looking confused, but not annoyed at all about being alone with his mate.

“Apparently I am to keep you occupied,” Elvi began, grabbing the King’s hand as he came within touching distance. He watched their hands, not paying attention to his surroundings in the least. “What is your favourite thing to eat?” Elvi asked, snapping him out of his trance.

“Witches,” he joked. Elvi rolled her eyes. “Pasta” he answered truthfully.

“Oh, I love pasta,” replied Elvi enthusiastically.

“What is your favourite type of pasta?” Rowan asked, enthralled by their easy conversation.

“Reginette. Preferably flavoured. You?”

“Pappardelle.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, Elvi leading Rowan through the forest by his hand. The tingles in his growing so strong he was unable to ignore them any longer.

“Elvi,” he started, pulling her to a gentle stop. “As much as I’m enjoying the physical contact, you don’t have to hold my hand. You know that right?”

“I may not be a King, but I'm not a simpleton. However, I do recognise that touch seems to calm you.”

“I would never accuse you of that.” He stared into her eyes, he rightfully found a lot of pain in them today.

“Does every shifter’s eye turn black?” she asked, staring into his eyes with curiosity. He laughed at the unexpected question, caught off guard.

“Um, no. Just royals.”

“Interesting,” she said, quirking her head and taking an involuntary step forward.

“Elvi,” Rowan started, gently grabbing onto her arms, “We should go back to the others,” he finished awkwardly, not trusting himself to control his action, with her attitude shift.

“Oh, yeah” she agreed, seeming to wake from a trance. Blushing, she led the way back to the Coven members.

“Thankyou Elvi. I appreciate you helping me. I know you didn’t need to at all. I would say I am sorry for the harm I caused the rodent, but I most definitely am not.”

“It helped everyone, not just you Wolf King,” Elvi said playfully.

“Ah Elvi, there you are,” called Priestess.

“Is he gone?” Elvi asked, walking away from the King, without a backwards glance.

“Yes, five minutes ago.”

“Good.”

“We will talk about what happened when we get back.”

“Yes, Priestess.”

*

Elvi took in the site of the grey concrete building in front of her. She didn’t think that she had ever seen such a depressing place. The wire fence and baron dirt ground gave no room for comfort. A feeling of deep mourning took hold of her as she noticed the lack of windows. How long had it been since some of her Coven had seen natural light, or felt fresh air on their faces? Eyes welling with tears she moved with the crowd towards the only entrance. The King made his way to the front of the group; Alarik and Priestess right behind him. Priestess looked how Elvi felt. With a grey pallor and shaking hands she stared at the guards barring their way.

“My King,” said a guard, bowing low.

“Are you organised?” the King said, paying the man little attention.

“Yes, Lord. The vermin,” the man’s eyes widened as the King turned to him, eyes narrowed. “The witches are gathered inside.”

“Release them” he answered, voice low.

“Yes, Lord. Open the doors,” the man called.

Elvi watched as one of the guards took a heavy bronze key and opened the door. With a clunk it was pulled sideways and a guard appeared, followed by two lines of emaciated prisoners in dirty grey uniforms. Tears fell rapidly as Elvi watched the twitchy group of her Coven walked towards the gate, like dogs that were used to torture and terrorism. Priestess ran forward, clinging to a woman halfway down the line. The rest of the Coven members followed her lead, clinging to family members and dear friends. Elvi saw her friend Arawn (ah~rown) and ran to him, throwing her arms around him, and holding on tight.

“Elvi. Elvi, I can’t breathe,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist gently.