Waiting for Him (Gwyn)

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

The soft sounds of the court lulled in Silisia's mind. Her blood stained tunic and riding breeches had been replaced with a soft midnight blue gown and her hair had been restyled and scented with jasmine. She sighed at the trivial nature of it all. She ran a soft brush through her silver hair and regarded herself critically. The sun was setting outside her window and her duties for the day were done. It had been five days since her encounter with Gwyndar, and although she had begun to doubt whether he would come, she would still go out to meet him. She selected a dark cloak and positioned it around her shoulders with care. She assumed that the rider would probably not care how she looked as he could not afford to pamper himself so. She had to agree that the whole idea was laughable. When there were people suffering in the world, with almost no hope of moving up in the world, the rich lavished themselves in frivalous expenses. She felt ashamed for her way of living. She ran her hand over her soft skin that was scented with expensive oils.

She took once last glance at herself in the mirror. The mixture of dirt and blood had left the face that was now delically touched with makeup. However she did not put on too much finery. She did not want to enforce the stereotype of the upper class. She had no idea why she had invited him to see her again. She was a queen, with a duty to her people. What if the world saw her with him? Even if she declared his pardon for saving her life, would they accept it if she took him as a lover? And what arrogance was it to assume that he actually felt that way about her. She had kissed him, not the other way around. It was all her initiative and he had probably been too shocked to realise what was happening. She went down to the stables. The soft stapping of horses' hooves against the hard earth calmed Sil'd nerves. She moved over to her young war stallion, Obilvion, and gently stroked his nose. His nickered, hoping for time to go exercise.
"Not today boy," she crooned softly, her eyes softening.
She did the same to her riding mare, who was less enthuiastic to go out and after a stroke, decided her hay was far move interesting.

The servants looked up startled as the queen moved to collect her finest tack and moved to the most maginificent stallion's stall. She did not know whether Gwyn would be stupid enough to bring his dragon. She hoped he would retain some common sense. He would be giving the queen's horse back and so he would need a mount to return upon. The great black stallion was only fitting. His onyx coat shone like the diamond scales of him dragon and the tack too was black, simple, but well made from the softest of leather. It would not be fitting for the rider to return in tack bejewelled. For one, it would do little to highlight his masculinity. Once she had saddled the horse, she led him from the stables. She did not climb aboard however. Instead, she led him through the city, muffling the sound of his hooves with her magic. The last thing she wanted was to be followed. Soon the city fell away to grassland. The ride to the mountain however, took a little longer. The queen kept her eyes on the sky, watching for the dark mass of ther dragon Siluth if he was to come.

After an hours walk, Sil finally reached a clearing. She tied the large horse to a nearby tree and moved into the centre of the clearing. The wind gently played in the soft folds of her dress and demuringly unveilded the face of the small queen. The soft scent of her perfume carried on the wind, and Sil looked into the distance only daring to hope that Gwyn had decided to come. Anxiety rippled through her. Would he be the aggressive man she first met, or the person who had gently traced his callous hands across her injury with the only intent to help her.
<"I am such a fool,"> she thought to herself as the minutes ticked on. She almost turned back. She knew she had not given him time to come but why would he? And even if he did, would he see the same woman he saw in the mountains of Maldragua? That woman did not wear finery nor prance about in a pretty dress. She was almost simple, and spoke her mind even when it almost killed her. Now she was Queen Silisia, the woman controled by men trying to end her reign, a war trying to gain control over her people. Yet, perhaps she could still be the Silisia whose cheek he had affectionately touched in farwell.

[Gwyndar]

Riding on horseback was far less adventurous than what Gwyndar had expected it to be, comparing to his Dragon the rider wondered why people even bothered with horses. They were scared of the simplest things and the one he was on loan with had one of the most weakest disposition when faced with Siluth on their corresponding rendez-vous. At points during the last few days Gwyn had wondered if it was him that spooked the beast, eating in a most uncivilized manner and never talking unless the need to. He had no prior knowledge on the real care and devotion needed to look after a horse.

Still, now covered with his ragged cloak and protective chest ware the rider made it through the days better than without. Not chancing his going into any nearby villages for fear of being caught again. There had been far too many close calls for him to take the chance. If he were seen to be on the move they could track his probable movement and could perhaps find a way to track down the Queen herself. that and the body of the young Allan boy was still blood on his hands. Regrettably as he had done nothing that deemed him of murderous intent. It had been a simple cut. A shallow blood wound.

Apparently that had been all it needed.

Thundering hooves through the dense quiet was covered only by the crunching of undergrowth. The trail he forged with the beast aided with his many weapons now stashed around his person.

The last time he had seen Silisia he had but a single blade. Now, fully equip he could open a shack of elven weapons. His ranged weapons the most prized as their hand crafted quality being made precisely to Gwyns own bodily measurements. He had no doubt that the transaction between queen and rider would simply be one of returning property that was once hers. A loan before the two once again parted ways. Unappetizing as it was for the rider to swallow he knew he had to keep his hopes low.

The woman had seen the monster he was, and had time to mull over his actions. How could someone so pampered and wealthy wish for anything more. Even if she had kissed him. Was it simply means for her to distract him from what she knew would be a murder before her eyes. There was little belief in him that there was any other motives for her arranging another meet. Whatever he had done for her had been a way of her not turning him to her authorities 'though she had every opportunity to. That did not mean however that he was without wish.

<"She was so delicate ..."> He mused, remembering how soft her skin was as he watched her pain filled recovery from what could have potentially killed her. For that he was at least thankful. To have kept that beautiful creature alive but for his own pleasure; he could think of no malice whenever his thoughts returned to her. She was the Queen of Samarid ... Queen Silisia Anja Saffy of Samarid.

His Queen.

Soon the rider found his designated location approaching; not a mile behind his black dragon swooped for its lunch. Catching many of the exotic creatures he had never sampled from farmlands before. It was his own pleasure that brought him here. Not the loyalty he held to his rider. Very few times it was that which made the black beast do anything Yet still he had warned to be vigilant in his riding, making sure that no-one saw his face and that he was not to be discovered. Even if it would mean he would be put in front of her Majesty for trial.

Pushing his hair from his eyes, now wild and scattered from riding for days under a large heavy hood the rider made note of any clearing where he could hear any signs of life. It had been a long day, many clearings showing no sign of obvious life. That was until he passed one somewhere closer to the edge than he had been traveled. There he heard the voice he had dreamed of for nights on end. <"No more a fool than I."> He replied, a hint of amusement in his thought as he thundered toward the clearing. No sooner as he replied the figure of the giant upon horseback cantered from behind an expanse of trees before finally slowing. Circling the woman once before the rider lowered himself from the beast.

"Highness." He mumbled, nodding his head once in acknowledgment while eying her carefully. She too had a horse, to which he assumed her ride into the clearing. Its coat gleamed black as treacle. Heavy, yet shining in the small light that came through the trees. "I trust you are well." He spoke with the emotionless voice he knew well to be protective of his thoughts. The woman before him had changed severely from what he knew of her last. Gone was the riding clothing; replaced with the clear indication of regal blood. What remained was the subtle fragrance he knew to be her own. He had kept the handkerchief she left with him, clinging to it as he hid that night in the depth of the forest. A makeshift cover against what had felt like a months worth of rainfall in a single night.

It was the first time since childhood that the rider had felt like breaking down and crying.

A completely foreign emotion ha taken over him, covering his thoughts with pain and mourning, not for the young boy he assumed to hav e perished. But for the loss of what he thought to be the only other living human capable of looking past the title of murderer. "You look ... well. My Queen." He commented, taking up the reins of his ride and leading it over to the tiny woman. It had been all he could say because of what she now looked like. She had changed more than he had thought she could. Oh what a fool he had been to even consider her being the same woman. She had come to him in desperation for a cure to what would surly have been her death. Not out of compassion for the convicted killer.

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

Sil barely managed to contain her nerves as she waited for the figure of her rider to appear. She wrung her hands nervously. As much as she realised that he would probably have slipped back into the man she had first met, she still held much anticipation for his return. She self conciously smoothed her heir, hoping that she looked pretty enough for him. It had been awhile since the queen had felt any need to make herself look beautiful for anyone, and purely went out to look good for herself. The queen's self confidence and self image was probably her biggest weakness. That's why when the rider had pushed her away because of who she was, she had taken it to heart. Would she be good enough for him?

She ran her hands over her dress nervously. Gwyndar the murderer had shown himself in their last meeting, but she had also seen his vulnerable side. The side of him that had let the boy live.The man she had willing chosen to kiss, not to stop him from murdering the boy, but more as a reflection of her emotion in a time where she had thought he would kill the child and with that action push her away as he embraced the label he had clung onto. She still could not understand why the boy had pushed Gwyndar so. At least he had not died for his foolishness.She had snuck back, just to see the boy awake. Nalean had healed him and was probably very unimpressed with the queen's flight. A soft voice echoed in her mind, echoing off her senses. How clos was he, or perhaps she was merely imagining things.

The echo of his reply, brought an affectionate, relieved smile to her features.
<"I did not think you'd come,"> she crooned softly at the voice of her rider. She looked into the dark forest, waiting for him to come through. The heavy hooves of her stallion touched her ears, and as he burst through the tree, Sil's features broke into a smile of utter joy. The rider was no longer shirtless, and had changed almost as much as the queen. Instead of showing his muscles, his chest was covered in armour and his weapons flashed warningly around his body. He was truly a spectacular warrior to behold. He was a trained killer, a living weapon. That's how most people viewed the dragon riders. The best weapon to have in this war. She watched him circle her and then climb off. She almost ran up to him, but refrained herself when he heard his address.

"Rider," she replied, hestitantly. She had expected things to change, but not so much. Sil looked for any indication of thought but could find none. He was probably protecting his thoughts. She somewhat wished she had not pointed out that they could hear each other
"I am doing well," she said. <"Although I have had a part of me missing.">
"I hope your ride was pleasant enough," she said pleasantly, trying to keep her thoughts as uncensored as possible. She felt the tension between the two of them and wanted him to know that it was ok to trust her. She kept her eyes on him.
<"I am still me,"> she said softly in her mind, realising that perhaps she was very different from the woman who had come to him out of desperation. She gently walked up to him and took the reins of her horse from him.

Her breathing quickened as the giant man walked up to her. He almsot dwarfed her. She smiled at his words, politely.
"It's as though you're holding back what you really mean, Rider," she said softly and seriously.Something uncomfortable was emminating from him and the queen did not know how to approach him. While she felt like opening to him and losing her inhibitions, something huge seemed to stand between them. Perhaps it was class difference, profession, status. Perhaps it was that she so clearly looked the queen part and he still could only see himself as a murderer unworthy of anyone's affections.

As she walked to where the other horse was, she wondered if he thought she was leaving him and if that was all she wanted. She tied the chestnut horse on the tree next to the black one and moved back to where Gwyndar was standing. A twig snapped in the bush. The queen flinched and linked her fingers through his.
<"We must get out of sight,"> her voice was soft and pleading. She quickly pulled him toward the base of the mountain range. As she reached a seemingly solid rock wall, she bent down pulled
a dagger out of a holding on her calf. Before the rider could react, she slashed her palm open and smeared her blood on the wall. The secret had long been a safe place for the royal family. The rock shimmered and disappeared. It was a useful room to have if the city was underattack. The rock only accepted the tribut of royal blood. But now, Gwyn's blood had mingled with her own. Perhaps he too could make his way in here. She quickly sheather her dagger again.
<"Come,"> she said softly, using her hand that was not bloodly to pull him through the entrance. As soon as they were both through, the doorway shut again. Darkness enveloped them.

Heat, she concentrated her magic to the palm of her injured hand a globe of fire appeared. She lit the brackets on the wall, letting go of his hand rather reluctantly and moved into a room offshooting from the main tunnel. The room was doomed and a basin of water was in the middle. She allowed the globe of fire to hung effortlessly in the room. She did not glance over her shoulder to see if Gwyn had followed her. There were some smoothed rock benches upon which Sil sat, waiting for the Rider to join her.
<"I want to hear your side of the story,"> she tried to keep her voice sensitive, but an echo of an order resounded.

[Gwyndar]

Straightening his monsterous height the rider only smirked at the tiny womans thoughts. A pleasant ride? If having trouble walking for some time after riding for a day was called pleasant then he could be said to have had a pleasant ride yes. "Quite ma'am." He replied gruffly, his demenor as always when full bodied was threatening to any who could see. Perhaps part of the reason that the horse was so unwilling to be put to his will. "I fear your horse has become one of those with little acceptance of me." His smirk, though not one of normal content showed the hidden amusement at the poor beast. How he missed his Dragon, flying was far more agreeable.

With one flick the hood fell from Gwyndars head and the hair was removed from his eyes. Unlike the queen he had no way of covering the wear of the day from his face. Forced to bear the days, aging his young self more than normal. It was unfair, such petulant wants for the day Gwyndar found himself wanting. He wanted to be human once more; not this creature hidden in shadows. Beneath even the thought of dirt from the Queen.

Her coming had worried him once more of his capture; there was perfect opportunity for her to hand him in. Have her soldiers, even only a few come to take him away. <"My apologies for the weaponry. I was wary you may have had a ... change of heart concerning me."> The thought was heavy with regret, the weight of each invidual blade, each arrow another notch in his belt. Every single weapon a result of hours crafting and years destroying the lives around him.

<"So I am glad you are still yourself Silisia."> He spoke warily, using her name as a way to gauge her reaction toward him. If she had been given a change of heart it only meant that he would know sooner and be able to leave with his dignity still intact. What use was he once he had returned the beast that had caused him so much trouble. It would give him more indication as to whether it was wise to flee once emore and call upon his dragon to take him from the clearning without being harmed. He was cautious at all times, always looking to the corner of his eye where many feared to look.

From his height he could see almost all of her royal garb, for more extravagant than what he had previously experienced back in Maldruaga. Of course, here she was within her own territory. There he was safe within his own world. Now he was outwith his comfort zone, though the horse knew exactly where it was going the rider atop had no idea of the layout. He had never traveled as far as Stratenvale before and it was interesting to see the farmlands merging with the natural landscapes. It was far more peaceful than what he was used to within the barbaric lands of his home.

The people seemed to be much happier around their lands. Not worried by the threat of war; that was at least how it seemed as an outsider. He had no knowledge of the intrqeuite life that people lef in comparrison to his own. He was definately not one to take example from. "If you really knew my meaning highness, I worry it may be misconstreud." He answered honestly. He had no reason to harm the queen despite his impressive display of weaponry.

But he had fled the mount of Maldruga; leaving nothing but the lasting spell of man behind as he fiynd himself night after night in primative crafted shelters. "I only keep them hidden for your own sake highness." With a short bow he huffed at his false alliance to the queen. If anyone were to really bother about treating him as an aqual they would see him as a follower of his native country. Not of Samarid.

They were indeed from two very different world, even if their class was not so far apart.

With great intrest he watched as the beautiful queen walked with the horse over to the second. The intent to leave him very acceptable, though it was less than what he so dearly desired. Her beautiful figure, the gentle sway of her hips as she walked, the way the skirt of her dress billowed around those legs he had seen so uncovered within the security of his cave. How he longed to see her as she once was. Not a Queen. Not an authority over him that wished to order his person to their whim. Simply as a woman he had developed a caring feeling toward. A woman. Not the Queen of all Samarid.

<"As you wish ..."> He replied solomley, knowing well that she knew the lands far better than he it was not a shock that she knew their position could potentially be compromised. She would be better to be not seen with a killer. He would follow her perhaps into the mouth of hell, just not into prison. <"I understand the need for concern. What with that Allen boy on my hands it is no wonder you need to be more careful."> His voice was not full of the hurt that one would find in a normal being. Instead there was just an emotionless void, empty and cold as the eyes upon his face.

Fidning himself grabbed by the hand and led toward what seemed to be the foot of a mountain, Gwyn let the feeling of the beautifully soft hands once again upon his skin. It was all he could do not to simply close his eyes and bask in the softness. She was like a child, soft and smooth. And that perfume ... it was so intoxicating. Had she realised that to a man devoid of human contact, such sweet smelling aromas where almost mind numbing. He watched her carefully as she pulled him along with her, the scenario almost laughable at someone his size being forced along by a woman so tiny. To frail.

So frail that before he could even lift his hand to stop her she had pulled a blade from its shieth on her beautifully slim leg. He had never before seen the draw with thin legs, his own were thick and hevy with muscle. Giving him ease when jumping massive heights vertically. Though they too were usually hidden with the aid of his cloak and long dark clothing. The less of him visible, the better. "Silisia!" He scorned, watching as her blood ran freely from her palm. For an insane instand he worried so many things about the poor queen.

Had she cut too deep? Was it a blood wound like the Allen boy? How clean was the blade? What if she got an infection in her blood? How would he help her this time if she became ill? He couldn't show up with a bleeding queen in his arms. That would definately end badly.

His thoughts were however quenched like the fire that had licked at his brain as he watched her hand being placed upon the mountainside. She had obviously known about some sort of entrance. What other reason would she have for doing such an unsightly thing? He gave her a low sigh as once more he was taken upon the hand and led inside the mountain itself. 'though he live in a cave most of the time the feeling of actually being swallowed whole by the mountain itself was a new and frankly welcome feeling.

The safety it provided was only accented by the darkness that he was so used to living n. It was comforting to have the blackness around him. He had lived months without sight because of it, and once again the thoughts of familiarity were raised from his memories.

However, quick as the darkness had brought comfort gwyndar was put on guard as a ball of flaming light had developed from inside the womans palm. It was a beautiful thing to behold. Pure magic. Though he was of familiar blood; such that it called to him. He had never managed to capture that essence of magic in his blood. It had evaded him much in the same way love and security had since his birth. Gwyndar had never experienced it.

<"Silisia ... that is ..."> He was lost in his thoughts as he watched the fire glowing. Illuminating the walls and leading them down a path large enough to walk in, but low enough that the giant of a man had to duck his head slightly so as to not scrape his forhead against the stone ceiling. <"This place ...">

Had he not turned his head from the magic touching the walls the rider would not have noticed the reluctant dropping of his hand. The feeling of softness now one more leaving him. He was so encaptured by the pure innocence of the magic that it took the Rider much longer to move his body of his own request. Gwyndar had never been so out of thoughts. "I am amazed." He mumbled, finally coming out of the tunnel and looking around the dome with some strange awe. It was another moment longer before he walked to the Queen and tentatively sat down. His breath coming out in a slow whistle as once more he looked around before acknowleging the Quens thoughts.

"What does my story matter. I killed a beloved elder and his dragon. Even with my side of the story I have no excuse for what i did." The mournful tone suggested how desperately upsetting the idea of forever being condemned was for the outcasted rider. Forever being one of the people who could never live a life that was worth anything.

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

Sil could almost not understand the rider's expression. Everything seemed to be dark in his mind. She could not help but to flinch away at the gruffness of his voice. She wished to hear the soft compassion in his voice once more, and even though she doubted she would hear it again soon. She kept her eyes on him, uncertain of how to react to the main in front of her. Her eyes held a wary tenderness as she traced his outline. A small, amused smile echoed on her lips at his words.
"I'm afraid that is not your fault, as much as you believe it. He has not been ridden by anyone else in his life," she said good humouredly, regarding the offended stallion. She had missed the fiery stallion, but at least she knew the horse could guide the person she had longed for to the secret clearing. Not even her closest council knew where the royal's escape hatch was, just in case there was a traitor in their misdt.

As his hood fell, Sil fell a rush of calm go through her. The rugged face of the rider created a serenity within the queen. She could count the years on his young face. She took a step forward, and tentitively touched her hand to his cheek. The reality shook her. He had really come back. However, she quickly pulled her hand away, hoping not to scare him. She knew today she was in a position of power with her army just a few miles away. She could turn him in if she so wanted but the thought repulsed her. She would rather serve his sentance, then send him to his doom. He would not stay in her prison long. The dragon riders would take him away to serve their punishment and she doubted whether they would let him live. Even if she could never see him again, she would rather him live. Perhaps she was being selfish for wanting to see him. Perhaps it would have been better if she had never asked him to come see her.

<"You live in a dark world, rider,"> she said softly. <"You owe no foolish trust to me.">
She wanted to touch him, hold onto him as she spoke to him. But she knew the tension between them had not yet disappeared.
<"I have not had a change of heart about you, Rider,"> her words were soft, and comforting, as much as she could allow them to. She felt his regret. Should she feel hurt? No. He had done what was right by him.

Her eyes twinkled in great glee as he spoke her name, however weary his words were.
<"Just because I change my clothing, does not change how I feel about you, Gwyndar,"> she said, her voice somewhat scolding. He needed to know that she was not as fickle as he made her out to be. However, he could not be blamed for his thoughts. She was sure very little people had been kind to him or remained so. She could imagine woman enjoying his... company... for awhile, but for very little else. Bedding a murderer was definately something lesser woman could boast about.

Silisia watched him carefully. He seemed quite on edge. She could not blame him though. He had been dragged halfway across the world by a horse who had very little lovefor other people into a land where the people would hunt him down. A land where she had a different role. A place where she was a queen. A queen who could sign his doom with a single word.

She looked at his curiously as he spoke, her mind working to understand how she could mistake his words.
"That gives me no ease, Rider," she said, her voiced laced with amusement. She somewhat enjoyed how uncomfortable she made him. It was not the same as how she made her council uncomfortable. They were just uncomfortable to follow the orders of a woman and often regarded her as kess than a servant. She frowned to herself at the thought. Why had they allowed her to become queen if they wanted a male ruler? Perhaps it was because she was the last in direct line to her family. Her sister was adopted and the only other ruler was her cousin who was leading the army currently. A huff of annoyance escaped her lips as he bowed to her.
"All my life people have kept things from me, for my own good," she growled. "I do not want to be a queen around you!"
She kept her eyes firece, but her voice softened. "Please, I only want to be me around you."

Her eyes held a sadness as she regarded him, hoping he would understand. But she doubted whether he would take her words to heart.

She glanced over her shoulder as she walked away, wondering if he would turn to leave. But instead, she found him looking at her with a curious expression. She kept her response neutral, but she could not help the small smile touching her lips. As she turned to walk back, she remembered the soft countours that defined his muscles. There was a sensitivity in his face that she had only gotten to see in a glimpse. She had dressed up for him but she regretted it. He had acted differently around her.

<"If it is not your wish, you are not obliged to follow,"> she thought humoursly, at the man, hoping that he would take more of a stand against the young queen. His next words made her frown. He believed the Allen boy to be dead? Her eyes softened in sympathy. How long had he been living in this grief? She would rectify that thought soon. She looked at him in a curious confusion.
<"I need to be careful?"> she scoffed lightly.She gently squeezed his hand in comfort as she took his hand. While she could not speak of his living yet as they were not safe in full view of others, she would tell him soon.

She felt him lagged behind a bit. Her hand seemed to be lost in his large one that spoke of great hardship. Her breath shortened and for a moment she could almost not breath. However, she quickly snapped out of it. She glanced behind her at him only to find his eyes on her, with an expression she could not read. She smiled comfortingly him at him. She had little clue what she was doing to him.

She looked up at him as he scolded her. Her lips broke into an unsure smile. What was he feeling?
"It's ok," she said gently, ignoring the throbbing pain in on her palm. She had done the cut a little deeper than usual as she hurried to avoid him trying to stop her from cutting herself. She realised that for him the whole action may have been totally random and confusing. "Shh, relax," she crooned softly, trying to get the large man to relax. She realised that the Allen boy had seemingly died to Gwyndar had only had a small wound.

She looked at him affectionately as he sighed. In relief? With a strak realisation, Sil realised that he was protective over her. When men seemed to be protective... they cared about the other person. Her expression softened ever so much at the reminder. Although she had a lot of reasons to doubt him, she could hold onto this memory.

She glanced around to him as he spoke. He seemed completely floored. Another rush of affection touched her lips. She walked back toward him and gently placed her lips on his rough cheeks.
"Hush," she purred softly, allowing her own amusement to rush through her. He continued to amuse her as he wandered around with the cave. The smallest of smiles touched her lips as he spoke. She watched him patiently as he moved around the dome and finally as he moved to sit next to her. She moved closer to him, and gently placed her uninjured hand in his in comfort. She was not sure how comfortable he'd be telling her his story.

She listened quietly.
"I don't care I want to hear your side," she said softly. "But before you do, I need to tell you something."
She turned her body to face him, and gently held his head. Her eyes closed and she projected the image of the live Allen boy being healed by Nalean.
<"He's alive,"> she spoke into his mind. She pulled her hands away and searched his face for any sign of relief.
"You did not kill him," she emphasised, her body still turned toward him. An anxiousness filled her. Would he understand that he was not the murderer of the young boy? She gently pushed a piece of his hair from his face, a tenderness behind her actions.

"Tell me what happened," she repeated, her voice very soft.

[Gwyndar]

Even with the knowledge that the Allen boy was alive, Gwyndar did not relent in the guilt that had built up inside his mind around it. He had caused the boy such a wound from so little; he was too dangerous to be around. Too dangerous even with such a pathetic little blade as the one he had was. Such a tiny wound and he had almost been the cause of another innocent murder. It had been all he could do not to simply give up on the life he was preteding to have. There was no life in the way he had survived these past years. <"I almost did."> He grumbled mentally, putting a rough hand through his hair and gripping at the roots for just a moment, growling inwardly and letting out a long huff of breath.

Why would the Queen even trust herself with someone such as he? With so many weapons upon his person, swords covering his entire body it was some feat of amazement that the queen had trusted him thusfar. He had already shown her how totally volitile he could be when the occasion came up. How could she trust him even in the slightest? So much so that, in the midst of his awe inspired taking in of the room he had felt the delicate brush of her lips on his cheek. Oh how it tingled with a magic unable to be passed through blood alone. How confusing it was to be on the receiving end of feelings he too was experiencing ...

Her delicate hand pushed some of the hair covering his face away, making him more openly exposed to her interpretation of his ractions. How he wanted to tell her; to tell anyone. But after such a long time his own story seemed to condemn him, self defense still made him look the killer. In the end that was all he was. A cold heatred, emotionless killer.

"For whatever difference it make make to your interpretation of me; let it not cloud what facts remain." His face hardened again and his hands balled into fists on his knees. Hunching his posture over in anticipation of the very regular trip down memory lane that would perhaps seal his fate again. If she didnt believe him ... if she chose to believe he was nothing but the killer she would turn him to the authorities. Of that he was sure.

Why else would anyone want to listen to the convicted rider killer. A Dragon killer. The most mighty beast in the world, dead by his hand ... it was something that made Gwyndr remain awake most nights. Regretfully thinking the entire night away instead of getting any much desired rest for the next morning. "I must first make you understand that, from a young age I was taught to fight." He began, breathing out slowly yet keeping his eyes fixed on a single place in front of him. Focused on the basin to which the room surrounded. "My father, an elf had married and had child ... me ... with a barbaric native of Stryklak. Some business deal the marriage was made on. They never had much affection for each other."

"Once born It was little time before I had accumulated the skill of marksman with bow and arrow. As an Elf, my father taught me the craft needed to create them, how to string the bows, get the correct angle of the tail and to fit them to my exact size so i would never miss. He taught me to hunt and he taught me to kill. The first being a rabbit when I was four. I had to hunt it, kill it, skin it and roast it before he showed me anyting else. It would go on for days ... but it taught me the patience i needed for dragon training later. Back then it seemed the logical thing to do, hutn to kill, kill to eat. That was how I was raised to think and essentially how I have evaded the authorities for so long." With a low chuckle he slowly moved to open the hand which the queens had laid upon. Letting it rest in his open palm. It was a comforting sensation.

"Around my seventh year, my father left. Simply told us one morning that he was leaving and he never returned. It was that simple But my mother never cared for him, nor me if I am perfectly honest. It became very dangerous at home however, without his security my mother became very much in debt with local merchants. Every time that happened again I would be forced to work long hours to py for her expenses. That was when I left home, aged seven to find something more meaningful. I had always intended on being someone with a meaning in their life. To find and experience what I knew i had missed out on in earlier childhood.

"As i wandered the forests of Stryklak and the surrounding areas. There I found what would become my mentor and paternal figure. A Rider who had recently made enemies with some soldiers of Strvtcomche. Forcing him to take shelter elsewhere within the forest. He found me wandering the forests and had tried to fend me off but I had shot an arrow at him, catching his cloak and pinning him to a tree. He called me an excellent shot and his marksman in training. It was he who taught me the way of the dragon you know; perhaps part of the reason Siluth and I are not so happy with each other. I was not trained with an elder, and I started so early that by the time many riders were in training themselves I found myself having to fight for my right to have a dragon."

Slowly, the rider shuffled on the stone seat before standing; an uncomfortable coldeness creeping down his spine as he described the way in which his life had forced him into the profession he found himself in. "As a Dragon rider I thought I would find myself as a person, not as a misfortunate offspring of a loveless; marriage of convenience. I would finally be something. But, I was still a child when I was brought into the adult world. I drank until I was intoxicated, I took many herbs that ... er ... pushed me more into intoxication." Putting a gruff hand behind his head the rider took a deep breath, running his hand through the hair. He hated opening up to people. It made him vulnerable ... however, at this point there was little more pride he could lose.

"Rider Cvmat was one of the best mentors anyone could ever wish for. But ... one night while I was finsing my way through the land of intoxicated teens, I had neglected my duty as his trainee that I had to make sure he was never found. The guards found him, guilty of many crimes from petty theft through to the attempted assassination of the king. They had him killed on the spot." Slowly, he stopped his movements, stopping in the middle of the room. That night; that horrible night. He had been enjoying himself at the moment his mentor has suffered the fate he had worried over for himself so many times.

"They ... One swift slice to the head. He was brought to me for identification, after they had killed him. But i was too gone to think, I just kept going. Partying over and over. Getting myself a bad reputation for filandering. It was such a new experience, being around woman. Mainly however they were the daughters of the riders and the elders. One of which I had met that night, having drunk more beer, taking more herbs. Trying to stop myself from morning the loss of my mentor. So ... one woman came to me. She targeted me. Her father was Elder Malcum. His daughter was spoild and she knew her father did not approve of me and my lifestyle. So ... she offered herself. I was too far gone to refuse. I just wanted to get away from the thoughts. So i said yes.

"She had promised to leave me after that night. Not days after Me and Siluth became one." With a short half hearted smirk the Rider looked back at the Queen. Coming around the other side of the basin and walking slowly, menacingly. "I do not know if you understand what it takes to find your dragon. Even if you pass your training there is no guarentee that the dragon you find will accept you. Many bodies lay at the foot of the Maldruga mountain. Thrown off from the top by unruly dragons. Siluth tried to throw me off, but instead of accepting my fate, I fought back. I always fought back. So we sparred until one of us gave up. We never agree who it was. After that, he respected me enough to kill me and make me his rider."

With a sigh he continued around the basin, his steps getting longer, his strides faster and with more panic than before. "As a Dragon rider newly formed you are aware of everything. Your emotions are going insane, your senses are heightened in a way that only a Dragon can understand. You can know that something is coming from at least twenty feet away. That was how I had heared him coming." Looking back at Silisia to gauge her reaction, he felt his voice become angrier. Deeper and darker. More the dangerous man he was known to be.

"Elder malcom had heard from his daughter that ... that she was pregnant of my loins. that I had taken what should have been her marriage gift to her husband. So, not a week after I became a young rider he came for me when I was resting." The voice once more changed, became panicked and worried. Almost pleading for the forgivness of the Queen for his past indescressions. "He came for me when I was nineteen with his sword. Intent on killing me or severly wounding me to the point where i would bend to his whim. But I could feel his approach and Siluth had alerted me to the danger. So ... I; I was up and my sword was through his heart before I had even awoken. He was dead before my eyes. The first human I had ever killed. But I had been scared, panicked and wanted to keep myself safe rather than letting him wound me."

Without looking, the Rider sunk to his knees on the ground. Eyes facing down and his fists pounding once against the ground. "Then his stupid dragon felt his death ... she came to find him. to protect him. But she was too late and had sunk down to mourn him. Opening its massive mouth and roaring in pain. I had thought she was to kill me, so i threw the sword at her ... It hit her just as squarley as it had gone through her rider. Her heart penetrated so fast she had but a second to let out an agonising cry of pain. Of utter defeat that no Dragon should have to endure."

From his position on the floor the rider felt his face becoming hot and he put his large hands upon his head. Trying to make the pain go away. The pain in his chest through his ragged breathing. His ribs putting a strange pressure on his lungs as he breathed. Close to wheezing. "I had killed the Elder and his Dragon. The next morning his daughter had alerted the authorities within the day. She had known he had come for me, and knew it had been at my hand he had died. That next morning I was cornered by the guards of the land; swords drawn and their scowling faces so disaproving. They had charged me and i had pulled the same stunt i had done on my mentor. Drawing an arrow and pinning one of the guards to a tree in a way which they had accepted as an attack.

"From that moment over five years past I have fled. Meeting guards from all countries as they tried to catch me. Attacking me from behind, from the front ... trying to shoot me down from the air. So after a while I simply started fighting back. Anyone who recognised me and tried to alert the guards or take me on I ended up just killing on the spot. It was self preservation. And the blood of so many people are on my hands. By my hand I have taken away the lives of fathers, sons, brothers, mothers, daughters and sisters. Children and parents ... grandparents ... none of them were saved. Even once I had to torch a family home with the children still inside. Simply to protect me from being caught.

"After that long Silisia ... I cannot be found. There are too many bodies to hide. Even if I were to save your life twelve times over and repend my ways; there is only one punnishment suited to someone of my criminal record. I worry that where anyone to see you with me, even for a moment without you handing me in you would be considered a conspiracer. I do not wish to impose such a fate upon you Silisia. You are too important to be put in such a position."

(( OOC :: Word count = 2240
ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!?!?!? ))

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

She scoffed at his words, her amusement showing. Almost killed the Allen boy? The poor weakling had fainted at the sight of his own blood. She watched him carefully.
<"Almost? The poor boy is squeemish for blood. He fainted,"> clear amusement in her voice, but her eyes slowly sobered to seriousness. <"Stop being do hard on yourself.">
She knew it was easier said than done. She used to be hard on herself, but over the years she had given into the knowledge that the past could not be changed, only moved on from and learnt from. She sighed to herself, wiping the thoughts from her mind.

Perhaps the queen was too foolish around the heavily armed man. But her trust was part of who she was, and he had saved her life. He had earned her trust. If he wanted her dead, she would have already been dead. He could have left her to die when she had begged for help from him out of desperation; he could have run her through when she kissed him; he could even have killed her know. However, here he was, vulnerable in front of her, heavily armed, but not dangerous to her. Sil herself was quite capable to defend herself. Her magic was match enough for sword and sinew. However, physically, she was no match for the large man. He had no outer reaction to her display's of emotion. Perhaps he did not reciprocate her emotion? She frowned to herself, unsure of how to approach the guarded man.

She searched his eyes as he began to speak again. Her tenderness remained as the large man hardened against her request. He did not want her to see him as much other than a murderer. Her own expression hardened as he spoke. Did he want to be alone? She fought against her fraying patience and frustration gathered under her cool expression.
"I will weigh up the facts," she replied, her voice hinting amusement. She was used to being the judge of the people. Luckily she had only ever charge someone of reason once and that was her long lost family man who had murdered the whole royal family. She had been lucky to escape but she had felt as bad as he when she had condemned him to death. At the time, she had been over taken by rage at the death of her world. At that moment, she found herself wondering why she did trust him. Her life had been taken away by a murderer... but now, a murderer was her personal life for now at least.

She gently squeezed his hand as he began. Unsure, she regarded him, as he began his story from the beginning. Suppose it was the best place to start. After all, a lot of things go unsaid when the story began in the middle. She focused entirely on him, even though he did not meet her eyes. Her own misgivings gave way as he heard his story. Perhaps if he had given the other man a chance... no, that was different. He had not only taken away Sil'd family, but also her innocence. He was different from Gwyndar. He was truly a monster, while Gwyn had shown the queen his good side, his pure side when he saved her. No sound escaped her lips, no condemnation, no sympathy. Utter neutality.

Her eyes warmed as he opened his hand and allowed the queen to place his hand in his. She had found no flaw in his story as he spoke. It all seemed reasonable. She vaguly wondered what it would have been like to have a father who had actually taught her something. She had been taught by the many palace employees. Life had been impersonal from that front and that's when things had gone wrong for her family. If only... she quickly pulled herself out of that thought chain. She had never had time to grieve for herself or her family over the last ten years. She had not had time to, nor the luxery. She wove her fingers into his, and squeezed his hand, erging him to go on. Anxiety filled her as she dreaded the answer in the story. What if he turned out to be the cold blooded killer that everyone thought he was? What would she do then? Would she be able to leave him? She doubted it. Perhaps she had already been drawn in too far.

Sympathy burst through as he spoke of his father leaving him. She remained silent though, knowing that he would probably not enjoy having her sympathy. However, her tenderness remained, soft and silent. Left home at seven? His life had been far from easy. No wonder he resented those who seemingly had it easy -- or so she thought he resented them. She was unsure of what it was that caused his initial reaction to her, and her people. However, her mind drifting from him was not desirable.

She could barely believe that the man was opening up to her. A rush of affection touched her mind. She could still find no trace of the cold blooded man everyone spoke of, only a man who had found himself in a tough circumstance and had done what needed to be done in order to survive. Her hand dropped as he stood. The warmth of his body had moved away as he physically removed himself from her touch. Almost as though he was also removing himself from her emotionally. She folded her arms across her chest, watching him carefully. Her heart ached for him as he discribed how he saw himself. His pain did not seem to spring from his murder, but also from something longer lasting. How could anyone love themselves if they were never loved? He took none of his words as a conviction of bad personality. Her angry grew with his circumstance.

She flinched as he mentioned the death of his mentor. Had he experienced any good in his life? Was he dooming anything between them already? Her eyes followed him as he paced, her own expression unreadable. She felt a stab of strong emotion as he spoke of another woman. Was it jealousy? She flinched at the ridiculousness of it. She had no right to be jealous that he had...enjoyed the company of another woman, such a long time ago too. She looked back in surprise as Gwyn met her eyes once again. Her stature seemed to darken as he paced once more and Silisia felt a shiver of fear. She had heard of the peril that the riders faced.

Her eyes flickered over his lengthening strides. The distance melted under his new pace. She knew he was about to tell her of the day he became known and seen as a murderer rather than a man. She kept her eyes neutral, as he looked back at her. He had got a girl pregnant? The rider had a child? So far, this had been the most shocking of the story. Did he ever see the child? Was it really his? However, her thoughts were washed away in the panic of his voice. She stopped herself from walking up to him. What if she found that he was just as cold hearted as the man who had killed her family? However, only anger flared up. Not at him. His actions were completely justifiable. The rider had been intent on killing Gwyn. It was only self defence. She remained silent though. She did not want to break into his train of thought. It had taken awhile for the rider to open up to her and she did not want to stop his story.

He fell to his knees. Her eyes grew wide as she cautiously approached him. However, she dared not get too close as he slammed his fists against the floor. She knelt close to him as she heard the rest of the story. Her actions were timid and small as she carefully regarding the rider in anguish. The death of the dragon was eltimately tragic but nessesary. She could not imagine that the dragon would not want revenge. But his utter anguish dispelled her fear. She shuffled closer and placed a hand gingerly on his thigh. She did not know how to comfort the rider who acted as though he was in extraordinary pain.

She remained silent as he spoke, allowing him to finish. Her eyes remained soft and without condemnation. Murderer? No. She could not see it. She could not see the monster he could see, even with the death of others. Sil herself was not blood free. She had killed in battle and she regarded his actions on the same level as his. She felt some revulsion at the mention of the children, but she pushed it away. Everyone made mistakes in battle, and killed children, and woman.

"Hush," she whispered, moving closer to him. She took his face in her hands. "Look at me," she said softly, but authoritively. "My family has suffered at the hands of a cold blooded murderer. A true monster. I see nothing of him in you. I don't care about what other people think."
She traced her thumb on his cheek, her expression still unreadable. "A conspirator against who? I am the law here. I am in my rights to give you pardon in Samarid, even if it puts us to war against Strvitcomche. I doubt they'd fight. their desire is to remain nuetral."
She dared to move a little closer to the rider on the floor.
"I will not give you up," she replied stubbornly. "I will think what to do. Perhaps I won't need to be important anymore and you won't need to be found."
She could barely imagine Gwyndar agreeing to be king and she was not sure enough of her feelings to make such a drastic decision and she was even less sure of how he felt about her.
"Do you want to be happy?" she asked softly. If he did not, then all her efforts would be for nothing.

[Gwyndar]

The weight of his confession sat heavy upon the shoulders of the Rider. His body hunched over uncomfortably as he stared at spot on the ground, focusing all his feelings that were clouding his thoughts on that one spot. Pushing them out of his head, preserving himself. Keeping whatever sanity he had to focus on not lashing out as was his normal scenario. If he kept his sanity to a level where he was able to not harm himself or anyone for at least the time he spent with the Queen he could at least try and emulate the non monsterous image she had conjoured of him. It was almost laughable. Not a monster. If only he could prove it.

Her comforting touch on his thigh did not make the thoughts any clearer in his head. Instead it did quite the opposite.

Very delicately he removed the tiny womans hand and simply held it in his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. His posture never changing, it would protect him from actually showin what he feared would be emotions too severe to be reciprocated.

Yet the infinitely brave and perhaps stupid woman had offered what he assumed was comfort. She was atempting to stop his self loathing in the way that had gone on for such a long time he had perhaps forgotten how to not hate himself. There was so much hate aimed at him, so many children parentless, in the way he had been in his early life. He had orphaned children, widowed spouses ... killed of a new generation. It was that he could not get over. Having killed small children. One in particular had always remained in his mind. The body of a young girl being pulled from the blaze he had set alight upon her house. Still robed in her night gown, holding what he had guessed to be her toy and cradled into a foetal position to protect herself from the smoke and flames.

That image haunted him every night. It hurt like a physical pain in much the same way it hurt when he had watched Silisia in pain as she had repelled the poison. It made him wonder if he knew as much about himself as he had previously thought. "Silisia ... even without the death, or almost death of the Allen boy ... there is so much death which follows behind me. I am simply the cold hearted murderer who wished he was not." He mumbled, eyes set hard on the face of the beautiful woman who had gave order to look at her. He had always held close the image of that poor perished girl. He had for a moment then wondered how he would react had it been the child he had fathered. He never saw nor heard of the child ever existing, his searches were poor and at times deserted due to constant movement from his person.

Yet the thoughts that he had fathered a child at such a young age; that there was a child of the age of five in the world that came of his loins. With his blood running through his veins. Was it any wonder that the image of that poor girl haunted him so? "Sometimes I wonder if I should stop running." The words were past his lips as ghostly as his thoughts. If he just stopped ... gave in. It would all have been over by now. Gwyndar believed in no after life, when someone died. Their bodies became minerals of the earth. He had seen death by his hand too oft to think otherwise.

"No." He said simply, cutting through the words of the queen as she told him of her role as the law of the land. She may be the law, the judge. But the laws were not hers to bend. Her subjects would have an uproar at the thought of their queen pardoning or even halting the excecution of a mass murderer. It was simply out of the question. "I told you. You are too important for me to rish putting you in any situation that would cause you unease. Were you to do anything other than hand me in publicly with the death warrant your people ... It is possible for them to overthrow you. I will not let it be seen."

Her words however confused him. Keeping his indignant thoughts for once simply as his own thoughts. But, what had she meant? When would she ever not be important and he not the same wanted man? <"She did ask in delerium what it would be like if she were not queen back in Maldruga. Perhaps she still has those same fantasies. A world away from here."> His thought channel open with the stress of having to regail the tales of his life felt very strange for the rider. The queen had made him feel such different emotions that it was difficult for him to keep track of the ones in his own body. Never mind having to theorise the existance of others.

Happiness he knew was reserved for the deserved. Those who brought good to the world. He had obsevered happiness once, not when he was drunk and gone with mind altering herbs. Not when he spent an evening entertaining a woman. Nor when he gained his dragon. No, he knew what happiness was. He had seen it on the faces of the other children as they played while he went hunting with his father or worked for his mothers living. He had seen it when he was training with his mentor upon the faces of those his age, carefree and full of the freedom to do as they wished.

And he had seen it on the face of his queen as he arrived with her horse. Her glee expressed at the return of her property no doubt. "I do not deserve such an emotion. It would only cause weakness, reserved for those who bring goodness to others. Not for one who takes the very life from them." He spoke very plainly, not with malace or hurt. Simply of thefacts he knew of himself. Why should he be given such an option. He simply had no time to sit and be 'happy'. He had to hunt, he had to eat and he had to run. His life could be summed up within only a few words. Of which contained all he knew of life.

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

His confession hung in the air between them and he continued to avoid her gaze. What was he expecting her to do? His confession hung like a barrier between them, keeping them far apart. No matter how Sil pushed against his wall, he continued to build it up against her. Sadness welled up inside of her. She looked desperately at him, hoping for an answer to leave his lips. He was driving her crazy. Before him, she had been a calculated, albeit unstable queen who had often sought an escape.Unfortunately, her last true escape had found her ambushed in the street and stabbed with the blade that drove her and Gwyndar's destinys together. How could she view her saviour, not only physically, as any sort of monster? He had shown her excitement again, and had given life outside royalty meaning.

He felt her remove her hand and for a moment she thought he would reject her touch but she was pleasant surprised as he simply kept it in his hand. She gently curled her fingers around his hand, trying to connect the distance between their worlds. The soft caress of his thumb lulled her into bliss. For a moment, she could forget everything that stood as a barrier between them. However, when she looked up and found he had not looked up. What was going through his head? No thoughts emmintated from him that she could pick up. Nothing. Frustration reigned.

She patiantly waited for him to gain some confidence to look at her. If he did look up, he would find nothing but compassion radiating from her. However stupid and foolish she was being, she felt nothing but affection for the man. Perhaps she could not bring herself to hate a man who had never been loved. She felt as though she was perhaps his last hope for kindness. She slowly touched her emotion to his mind in the gentlest thoughts. What was she doing? This could never be. She was a queen of a country at war and he was a rouge dragon rider. Why did she so long for him and the touch of his rough hands so poised to be kind to her. She had no idea what demons ran through his head.

"In my experience of cold hearted murderer, they do not show regret," her voice was laced with an angry silence. She took abreath, watching the dragon rider carefully.He had finally had met her eyes. The screams of her daughter rung in her ears and the cry of her husband to run. It had all happened so fast from a man who had... She shook the memories from her mind. She saw nothing of the man in Gwyn, even if she tried to find the merciless glint in his eyes. yet, there was absolutely nothing that echoed evil.

Before she could even dream of a world that contained him, he pushed her away. She fowned, and almost pulled her hand away in hurt. She listened to him stonily, trying hard not to take it so personally.
"I guess you have seen that people do not appreciate mercy," she said tiredly. <"As you seem to distrust mine.">
She looked away to the floor, frustration building up and creating a wall of her own. her efforts seemed to be wasted on a man that had no desire to see her. She stopped the annoyance from visiting her face.

She frowned at his words. <"Nothing like that. I dream of a more possible future. The people do not appreciate a woman as a queen, so I could hand the rule to my cousin. But of course, right now I doubt you desire that."> Or desire me. She slowly pulled away from him and stood up, and walked to the back of the cave. She held a hand to her brow in frustration. This was all very foolish of her. What was she thinking?

She remained far from him in the silence. The ball of light flickered in her annoyance. She had put herself out there yet had been pushed aside by the man's self loathing. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling vulnerable. She vaguly listened to his answer, her disappointment growing.
She turned and simply stated, "You made me happy, Gwyndar."

[Gwyndar]

"That was foolish of me." He mumbled,standing up once more and shrugging his shoulders slowly, keeping his wince of pain at the shifting the metal against his battered chest inside his head. The dreadful feeling of losing something close to him had arose from the pit of his stomach and was nestling itself like an infestation inside his chest. Manifesting into a painful lump that made his breathing slightly more ragged than before. It was no mistake that he was the lone rider. He never did do well with people. Every time someone came close to him he managed to subconsiously push them away with little more than a single comment.

Gwyndar did not understand the emotional need required to keep a person entertained. He never discovered that well needed social skills which would make him more available for others. That would show him not as an emotionless shell. But as someone who felt as much as anyone; simply keeping it out of sight at all times. "I am a fool to think that what you express as happiness to be any other." Facing away from the Queen Gwyndar put a hand to his head, gripping the front of his shaggy hair. He could never made anyone happy; never give them what they wanted.

"I don't understand what you want from this. What possible reason could you have for showing me anything other than disgust." He growled, pushing his hand out to the air in exasperation. He simply could understand the situation he had been placed in. For all his knowledge of survival and weaponry skills he knew nothing about the world of emotions and even less; women. <"What a fool I am. There is no way she sees me as anything more than a lucky cure for a poison incurable to most."> He thought with an internal sigh. In truth he had admired the queen for her beauty, for her admirable ability to see things others couldnot. For having the bravery to come to him when she was at her most vulnerable, a most dangerous time.

But she had trusted him.

So why could he not find it in him to simply trust her too? What had she done herself to show him anything but kindness and mercy? Like she said; he had rejected hers.

"Silisia I am not a good person. I have tried to make you see this, for your own sake. But you keep telling me that i am more than what I know. That there is some sort of goodness in me; but there isn't!" Pulling at the hair, Gwyndar spun around gave the queen something of a look of complete self loathing. There was no excuse for the things he had done in the past. The only thing left was complete surrender.

Slowly and with great care the Rider unshiethed each blade, placing them carelessly to the side as he tossed them away from him. First the two cross crossed over his back, taking them at the same time in what looked to be an attack. Followed by the three blades around his waist. Two of which thin swords lighter than an arrow each. They were crafted many years ago, each refined by the elves for precise and swift actions. They too joined the thicker, heavier blades on the ground. Removing the bow from around his shoulder and the arrows from their pouch on his back all that was left was the beloved dgger he kept at all times on his person. The same blade he had bled himself with to save the queen, the one he used to bleed the weak stomached Allan and the only thing which remained of his father.

Taking that from its holder and giving it a look of disgust he threw it to the other end of the room with a grunt of anger. Every possible weapon he had on his now gone he began stripping himself of his protective clothing. The metal causing him to wince and flinch as he shifted his cracked ribs around inside him to remove the clothing. Finally, with one final snap he detatched the sword shiething belt around his waist. Leaving bare from the waist up apart from the pendant around his neck.

It had been a gift given to him by his mentor the day he passed his dragon training. Now, he stood before the Queen and opened his arms in defeat. "I am at your mercy Queen Silisia of Samarid." He said with a straight emotionless face. "I have made a fool of us both; i hav admitted to the murder of hundreds without cause. I have endangered your reputation simply by being here. And here I stand. Do with me what you will my Queen." He said, his voice losing itself to a whisper. It was the sign of defeat upon his face that gave away the absolute despair that raged in his head.

The Queen did not find affection with hi,. She found only kindnessl of which meant nothing in the big scheme of things. She had obviously missed the way her touches ragd fire under his skin. How her beautiful perfume caused an uproar inside his mind. How her very prescence was enough to make the mass murderer consider surrender. But what she had also missed was how she have him hope.

Hope that he had trusted her to keep alive.

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

She vaguly heard him speak, her annoyance flaring. He was right. It was foolish of him to make her happy. It was foolish of her to have allowed herself to be happy around him. It was foolish of him to have used his own blood for her healing. After all, now, no matter how much she resisted it, she was drawn and connected to him. She sighed shakily, aware that he had now stood up. She wanted to pull away from him, to forget him, but his prescene echoed endlessly in the back of her mind. Even if they were worlds apart she'd be able to find him there in her mind. His blood pulsed aggressively through her veins, bound to stay there by magic. His blood would always protect her. If only he knew the power of the magic he had used.

She turned slowly, intent on facing him. Even though she trusted him, she also trusted him to be volitile and aggressive in his anguish. Her eyes echoed a soft sadness as she looked at him as well as with a longing. She knew she could not dare to think around him for fear that he reject her thoughts; for fear that he did not feel the same as her. She waited, tense and wary. And yet, all she could think about was the flutter of her heart when she came close to him, how she could not breath when he touched her... and the fear he ignited when he showed his hurt, his anger, his regret. How could she ever get close to a man so intent on self destruction? Her anger flickered into self pity and grief for a man she was already losing. Even if she fought for him, it did not seem like he was ready to fight for her. He still had a journey ahead before anyone could get close to him, she reasoned. She frowned at his words. Any thing more than happiness? She remained silent. Did he wish for more? She watched him turn, moving away from her.

She flinched away from his next words. His rough words cut into Silisia's emotions. How could he not understand? How could he not even want to try having a normal moment? Just a moment with her. The soft whispers of mind words formed in her head. Her eyes grew wide.
<"What a fool you are indeed, Rider,"> her words weren't cold, just disappointed. How could he see her like that? <"I...I... had... it doesn't matter anymore. It can't happen."> She had feelings for him? Her breathing stop for a moment in realisation of her own emotions. And yet, she could not tell him. He'd push her away. Hurt trickled in as she looked at him with a wry sadness. What did it matter? She had the responsibilities of a queen. One day she'd be married off again for the only reason to produce an heir. There would be no love, no affection; only duty.

She looked down at her hands, almost willing to give up on the man. He obviously did not want her affections.

She held her ground as he spoke again, and resisted to flinch away as he spun around. The look in his eyes broke her heart. He could ot love anything, or anyone if all he knew was how to hate himself. He had never stopped mistrusting her and that thought slowly pushed her away from him.
"You won't let yourself be a good person," she whispered, her voice dripping with sadness. What was the use if arguing? The fight in her eyes died as she looked at him with hopelessness.

As he reached carefully for his blades, Sil moved back, confused by the sudden turn of events. What was he doing? The blades fell to the floor and he proceeded to relieve himself of his other weapons. As the pile grew larger, her eyes grew large. What was the meaning of this? She resisted the urge to sheild herself. Her eyes flickered with recognition as the blade he had cut himself and Siluth open with to save her life too joined the pile. She remained still and tense in the happenings and her eyes were wide and intense as she watched him. His anger in discarding it made her flinch away and a shield flickered in and out of existance.

With the weapons gone he began to remove his clothing. His flinched made her expression darken. The injury was another testiment to how little he had trusted her with her trusting him with her life. She watched his armor fall to the floor, followed by his sword sheeth. Her eyes danced over the familiar countours of his body. She could not help but feel her heart skip a beat.She slowly took a tentitive step forward and stopped as quickly as she had decided to move forward. She slowly unbuttoned her own cloak and let it fall to the floor behind her, exposing her low cut satin dress.

Her eyes twinkled softly at his words. All the annoyance fell away as he stood exposed before her. She slowly moved closer to him, ignoring his rash words. She gently touched her hand to his torso, relishing the feeling of the contours beneath her finger tips.
"You are a fool," she said, with an amused tenderness in her voice. "You did not make me a fool though. I made a fool of myself developing feelings for you. That is not your doing."
She looked at him gaging his reaction. Perhaps it was foolish to wait. She gently pressed her lips to his collarbone. She looked at him carefully. reluctantly, she took a step back.
"If you want to leave, go. I will forget I even saw you. That way you can garantee no one will see us together. If you stay, I will not turn you in. I owe you my life," she insisted, her voice touched with a strange longing.

[Gwyndar]

Gwyndars breathed hitched only momentarily as the gentle touch of Sils hand made contact with his bare torso; were all her touches this tender? Had she been so gentle so as to lessen his anger? In all honesty it was a third opetion he had hoped for previously. He had - with true fantasy - wished that he could have found someone to teach him how to love, to teach him how to be happy. But with every moment his mind once more discovered more reasons to get the woman away from him; to protect her. Keep her safe. Even if it meant he could not be with her. Much as it hurt him.

The night afterhe had healed the queen Gwyn had found his thoughts returning to the beautiful young Queen. Her small lithe figure haunting him as she pranced around his mind; dancing, laughing, smiling.It had all in his head however, for every time he woke he found himself alone on the forest floor once more. The silence overwhelming as the memory of her voice still whispering in his head. Siluth had grown sick of his constant pining for her, leaving the Rider for a few nights to clear his head. Only to return and find the depressed remains of what he had thought was a breakthrough.

With a look of shock the defeated man lowered his gave to the woman as she spoke. her confession of what she had made herself a fool over causing a burst of hope to spark up; only for his subconcious to shoot him back down again. <"Feelings can mean many things Gwyndar. Do not make yourself more important than you really are to her. She is far above you."> as soon as the ghost of a smile touched his mouth it was once again gone. She had called herself a fool for forming feelings for him. She apparently had realised how bad for her he really was.

For once, the rider could not bring himself to speak. Holding strong in his acceptance of his fate as he knew he must do. Was this part of his punnishment? Being forced to think how terrible he really was. To be tortured by her terribly gentle kisses, now thrice over? Had he not finally found a way to hold her here? To be open and willing to commit to something so terribly impossible that it was possibly perfect? A surge of will power forced its way throug Gwyndars common sense, evading his self hatred, avoiding all his protective thoughts and simply forcing itself to the forefront of his mind.

While the Queen spoke of his leaving, the stone faced Gwyndar listened, taking in every words; every sound the beautiful woman made. He had no intention of leaving and no intention of making the woman forget him. His worry of having to protect her, in this cave was faced only with his ow volitality. Yet even so, he desired no remision from her person. "You owe me nothing my Queen." He mumbled, taking a tentative step forward and putting his hand on her cheek as he had done the last time they parted ways. However this time he had no intention to flee her presence. Instead, he leant down slowly, using the hand on her cheek to lift her head slightly and gently placing his lips on the top of her head. Just above her hairline. It was a sign of what really went through his head without passing the barrier that was such a personal expression.

"I do not wish to leave; I wish only to keep you safe." He mumbled into her hair, looking down at her from his amazing height and offering what he attempted to be a smile. It was difficult; never having needed to be the one showing his emotions.

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

Under her fingers, she felt the rider's torso stopped for just a moment. She really had that affect on him? She could barely see past her own insecurities about people and love. She continued the trace the outlines of his muscles, wondering if this was it. Would it all end here, and would she have to forget him? She looked up at him, her eyes caged in wonderment and apprehension. What was he feeling? Questions littered her mind. She wondered how much longer she could keep her feelings to herself, without reciprocation. Perhaps, it was simply not meant to be.

As her fingers gently wandered his torso, her mind wandered the extent of their journey together. For the first time in years she had felt seen, if it was only just for a second under his gentle touch while she had been at her most vulnerable. If he had truly been the cold hearted murdererr he said he was, she would have been dead at his hand already. Yet, he had shown no true evil around her. She looked up at him, her eyes tracing the features of his handsome face. Her eyes lingered on his lips for a moment.

Her confession brought an echo of shock across his face that amused the queen. But his thoughts dampened her feeling of momentary triumph. How could she convince him of her feelings?
<"Hush,"> she scolded, knowing the man had probably forgotten the bridge between them. His foolishness was beginning to deter her. How could she convince him of what clearly was in front of his eyes? Could only deep confessions of undying love give him the slightest indication of her feelings? <"The feelings I speak of do mean many things. You make me feel alive, and I feel attracted to you. I care very deeply for you Gwyn, more than as a friend.>"

The rider had no reaction to her soft kiss. Blush crept across her cheeks as she realised how foolish she had made herself look. When he had no romantically inclined feelings to her, she had gone and thrown herself at him. Had she no dignity left? Since when did the Queen of Samarid throw herself at a man who had no feelings what so ever for her. She took a step backward, allowing her hand to drop from his torso. Humiliation ran through her mind.

She was about to protest loudly at his words, but she was silenced as he took a step toward her. She remained silent, dumbfounded at the rider's ability to change his mind at the slightest whim. The soft touch of his hand as he cupped her cheek sent ripples of electricity through her. Her breath caught and she struggled to pull air into her lungs. She remembered he had done this previously, just as he had done before he had left her. Was this his goodbye? She caught her tears before they fell. She could not lose him, but if that was his choice, then she would have to accept it. She put her hand over his and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of his touch. But instead of leaving, she felt him lean down. He kissed her? Pleasant shock ran down her spine. Perhaps he did feel the same way. She instinctively moved closer, so close that her body touched his.

"I can look after myself, rider," she whispered back. "I have only ridden into batte."
She laughed cheekily and rose on her toes to kiss the baffled rider. Her lips connected with his, a little more roughly than the last time. Her hand moved up to his neck and pulled him closer.

[Gwyndar]

Slowly closing his eyes as he held onto the tiny woman, Gwyn took a deep breath. Taking in from close proximity the intoxicating smell that had caused him such mental strain. So sweet. Yet he couldnt put his finger on exactly what it was that was so alluring, the smell itself or how the smell was complex and purly her that every time he came close he was reminded that she had stopped him killing such an innocent person. That she was the good in him. She made him good. Still, her confession caught him off guard. He had been so sure of everything until that point. Sure that his thoughts on her; her intentions. That he had neglected the idea that there could be any other explaination.

<"I care for you also Silisia. You are what is good in me. But ..."> He stopped for a second; trying to figure out what it was that he really felt. Was he truly going to admit that she was his biggest weakness. <"I am afraid i will harm you."> The thought fell with a defeated sighf rom the riders lips, his other hand coming up to smoth the hair on her head. Only causing it to become more stressed. She was just so beautiful. And so close to him he could feel the top of her low cut dress against his skin. It was impossible to think like this.

Inside his head all that could be made out was an overiding feeling of warmth from his gut. rising through his body to his throat where it became a terribly uncomfortable lump. This made his breathing shorter; more caught as he listened to her laughter. There was nothing so pure as laughter. Nothing so good as true laughter from a woman. A desired woman more so. Yet he knew that her words rang true, she had been one to lead an army into battle riding only on a horse. It was wrong for him to think of her as a warrior. She was so delicate and far too precious to have been subjected to that sort of world.

He himself had seen war before. He knew the destruction that followed, the destruction that as a Dragon Rider he had the responsibility to cause for the pledged loyalty to a side. Normally; riders follow the decision of the Dragon Leader. Gwyndar however found himself wondering if his having been an outcasted rider for so long meant he was not under such law. It was not like the riders would happily welcome him back even if he was to follow the leader.

So what if he were to pledge himself to a side? If he knew his loyalties were given before any war broke out, he would have control over his siding.

Gwyndar knew what he had to do.

Just as the woman found him in a kiss so meaningful the Rider found his thoughts drifting over images of the destruction he knew only too well. He could make such a lifestyle as pennance also could he not? Even if it were in secret to the rest of the world. While he found himself wrapping his hands around her face while he leaned down to be more of her level the riders breath felt heavy in his throat. Now was a time he knew their connection would play to his benefit.

Quietly and almost as if he was making a silent pact his voice whispered into the mind of the Queen. <"I Gwyndar the murderer hereby pledge myself to Queen Silisia Anja Saffy of Samarid. Whensoever she may ride into battle let it be known I will be there by her side with Dragon, fighting for her side. I pledge myself as her Dragon Rider from here until she release me from this servitude."> Gently, he traced the side of Silisias face, his rough fingers gently caressing her hair, her cheek before he gently pulled himself away. Careful not to jerk himself back and hurt her in the slightest. "I am yours." He ?Whispered, opening his eyes and looking at her with only truth and a longing to fufil what he set out to be when he joined the training of a Dragon rider. He would be something more worthwhile. He would not remain a monster.

[/font]

[Silisia Anja Saffy]

As she was held in his arms, she took a deep breath. Even though she was in the arms of an infamous murderer she felt safe and protected. She never wanted to let him go, because she did not know how long he'd stay if she did relinquish her grip. Thought fell away as she could feel his body against her. How could she concentrate on anything beside the sculpted man so close to her. And for the moment, everything stilled. No thought interupted the purity of the moment. She wrapped her arms around him, closing the smallest space between them. she attempted to bridge the mental gap by shortening the physical gap. The last time she was held this way was beyond the ability to recall. She had forgotten the soft yet rough touch of a man.

Her heart sped up in joy in his words. He cared for her. That's all she wanted to hear. And if it was the last thing she ever heard, it would be enough. But then her glee was halted. She almost pulled away. Would he leave her? Would he flee from her world? Anxiety filled her up and she desired to run away. The word from his mind automatically made her build up walls against him and her feelings for him. Yet his words brought a soft comfort.
<"I have no fear of you harming me,"> she replied softly. She would trust him with her life, after all, he had earned that trust when he had saved her life. She slowly pulled away enough to trace his torso against.

She looked up at him curiously. He had become slightly unresponsive as though he was mulling something over. She was surprised. Most men who were this close to woman in provocative clothing could not keep their hands to themselves. She smiled slightly. He had never once tried to take advantage of the queen's position. Even though she had deliberately taken one of her more revealing dresses. She let him think.Perhaps he was contemplating their future or the lack there of.


As she kissed him, she found him respond. The soft cup of his hands drew her in. Her heart stopped and she struggled to breath. Her fingers trailed up and untangled themselves in his hair. She pushed herself against him, feeling her bare skin rub against his. It all felt unreal and yet so perfect. She slowly trailed her fingers down his neck onto his chest. For a moment she could imagine giving up her lifestyle for the pleasure she was experiencing. Wild ideas of fleeing into the wilderness entertained her. She could live in a cave with Gwyn and his dragon, with little complication of the world of fashion and politics.


His words, however, put stop to her fantasies. She almost pulled away in confusion. Pledge alligance to her? She remained dumbfounded as he pulled away and the trace of his fingers was barely noticable. She looked at him for a momeny not comprehending. He was hers? She looked down, her eyes unreadable. It would allow them to be seen together without judgement. And he would be in the position to protect her. Had it been the mention that she too ride into battle? She looked up at the changed rider before her. He was hers. A smile began to grow on her lips.
"I accept Sir Gwyndar, Dragon Rider of the Queen of Samarid," she whispered. She knew that his loyalty was not with the people of Samarid. He was completely there for her. <"My rider."> She purred. She never had to be away from him now. The people would not care if he indeed was a murderer. They had a dragon rider on their side, something the enemy did not have.
"I shall declare it to the counsel in the morning," she concluded, her emotions still mixed. She would not be able to face herself if Gwyndar died. <"Don't you dare die on me."> she warned softly, her voice filled with anxiety.

She kissed his lips softly once more, and pulled away with a curious sort of contemplation on her face.
<"And I am your queen.">