Chapter Twenty *NEW*

Laying on his back, against a mattress covered in animal skins that were soft and comfortable, his head propped up against several pillows. Gaalin relaxed with his hands behind his neck, staring up at the ceiling and humming a soft tune to himself. He'd had much to drink and begun to feel his limbs grow weaker, deciding to return to the room he'd rented for the night. Except, despite him anticipating that he'd spend the night alone, he wouldn't.

His companion from the evening lingered with him, and now she crawled up his waist ever so slowly. She had opened the front of his shirt, toying with the wooden buttons, placing soft kisses across his abdomen and chest as she reached the stubble on his chin. Sitting atop him, she smiled.

"Are you excited?" she asked.

He shrugged, and she pouted playfully. "My dear Gaalin, what can I do to make this better? Hmm?"

His red eyes flicked to hers and he smirked. "Do as you like, but I'll expect you to do it well enough for me to enjoy it."

Her smile returned, replacing her pout.

"There's coin if," He pulled at her neck, enticing her for a kiss. "-if I thoroughly enjoy it."

Libelle stood in the middle of the great hall panting, suddenly exhausted from the sudden outburst of her magical energy. Her limbs were shaking, and she looked as if she were about to collapse. Gaalin rushed to her side once again, he didn't understand it, yet he felt an unimaginable sense of protection for her. He felt like he had to protect her, as if it were his duty. Why?

He caught her once more as she dropped to her knees. Her face falling against his chest, as he reached her in time to drop to the floor to catch her. She was conscious, but she was weak. Despite his concentration on her, the bellowing laughter of the fat King forced him to turn his glare in his direction.

He laughed, accepting the assistance of two servants to get back onto his feet. "Yes!" he shouted joyously, "Yes, fantastic!"

Clapping his hands together he approached the two. "A slayer! Yes, the elf is indeed a slayer!" The King continued to laugh, enticing the servants in the area to join in on his excitement. "At such a young age and she already has such an exceptional force! I can't believe I was able to witness such power for myself!"

Libelle turned within Gaalin's grasp, turning to face the king who now stood just a few feet from them. The man's beady eyes were narrow from his wide smile, his breath smelt like sour meat, and his body odor stung her sensitive nostrils. He stopped close to them, bending at his wide waist to lean over her.

"Who cares if the slayer is an elf, she will make our kingdom rich. Heh, if it dies no one will grieve. It's excellent."

"My lord, if I may" a timid servant said approaching them.

The king snapped, "You may not."

Libelle watched the blood drip from Gaalin's arm, and all he could do was wrap his uninjured arm around her. The King was staring at her as if she were some first-class treasure, it was disgusting.

"Hmph, even for an elf it's not terrible looking. Small, skinny, but not bad." The Kings words caused Libelle to shiver and Gaalin to growl. "I'll make you an offer elf."

Libelle's eyes almost began to tear up, yet she bit her tongue and refrained from speaking, so the King continued. "Slayers are rare these days, the last one I heard died fifty years ago. Lost their life in battle. Yet he earned this city a fortune, aiding in making it the successful place it is. He was able to protect my land by fighting my enemies, slaughtering hundreds. He also killed countless dragons."

"Dragons?" Libelle spoke, then flinched when a guard stomped his foot.

"You will address the King as my lord or not at all, you vile elf!"

The king chuckled, "Ignore him little slayer, now, listen to my proposal." The fat King walked slowly back to his throne, huffing and puffing as he stepped up just a few stairs.

"I can tell just from looking at you elf that you've lived a hard life, you've suffered through hard times, haven't you?" She didn't reply. "So, I make this offer to you elf, live in Edinburgh."

Gaalin saw where this was going, he didn't like it. He stood back up, holding his hand out to assist Libelle to stand beside him. The king accepted a drink from one of his servants, drinking nearly all its contents before tossing the mug to the ground for someone to pick up for him.

"Now, you'll live here in my city, within Edinburgh, in luxury. I'll make sure you are well fed and clothed. You'll have a home of your own to live in. Servants to tend to your needs. Anything you can imagine; I'll make it yours. In exchange," he almost stared lewdly at her at this point. "-you'll become a true slayer for me."

"My lord, you can't waste such resources on an elf." Someone spokes, someone most likely from the Kings court. "Even if it's a slayer, it is an elf." The man scowled.

The King waved his hand yet looked at this man with a wink. "Child, I'll have the best swordsmen, the most knowledgeable magicians teach you to hone your skills. You will be cultivated in a skilled warrior, and you will defend Edinburgh with your life. You wouldn't be able to get a better offer anywhere else."

He leaned forward in his throne, intertwining his fingers together. "But if you refuse me... you will not like the consequences."

Gaalin snarled. "So, you'll force her into cooperation, eh? Become the slayer of Edinburgh or die?"

The king laughed, "I didn't say I would kill her. I would, do something much better than that."

Libelle looked repeatedly between the two, then she turned her face against Gaalin's shirt. "What do I do?" she whispered.

"Don't do it, I'll get you out of here. I'll take you to one of the elven villages, they're far, but you'd be safe there."

"I can see that you're quite attached to that black skinned demon slayer. I suppose then, I'll start with him."

Libelle flinched at his words, "What do you mean?" she asked. Just loud enough for the man on the throne to hear.

"Have you ever heard of the blood eagle?" The king asked.

Gaalin tensed, and Libelle shook her head.

The king laughed, "What hole did this rat climb out of? Heh, of course, this will be after you watch him be beaten, but then... I'll have him thrown to the ground in front of the entire city, we shall bind his hands and feet. I'll have my man here, Ivar, cut from his pelvis to his ribs, and we shall cut each rib from his spine, one by one. The bones will be pulled from his spine, then we will be able to see his organs, all still intact. Oh, just so you know child, he'll still be alive at this point. Next, we- "

"I'll do it!" Libelle shrieked.

Gaalin groaned, "Child, no."

"I'll, I'll do it! Just don't hurt him." Libelle looked genuinely concerned, worried about someone who was more than capable of taking care of himself. He couldn't risk this small child sacrificing herself for him. He could only imagine that she was imaging the years of pain she had suffered, pain that would be inflicted upon him without her cooperation. Yet she didn't understand that he was used to that sort of pain, it didn't bother him any longer. He could take it.

"Excellent!" The King shouted. "Audor, make the necessary preparations."

A man dressed in robes nodded, then turned and walked away down a dim hallway. Several of the individuals in the crowd began to speak in protest, yet the king waved his hand at them to dismiss their concerns. Gaalin wanted to snatch Libelle and run away with her, how could he knowingly abandon this child here? How could he leave her, return to his adventures and work as a mercenary, knowing that she would remain here in the care of... these people.

"Dark elf, I have a task for you as well."

Here it comes, he thought. The king would tell him to leave, to not return to this city, a place where he was never wanted to begin with. Unless he took Libelle now, he'd have to leave her here and now. Who knows what would be done to her, how much more pain she'd have to suffer, as the Slayer of Edinburgh? An over-glorified title.

"You shall remain here."

Gaalin's head snapped up. "What?"

The king was smirking, "You are a mercenary, yes? A sword for hire? Well, I am hiring you. You shall be this child's housecarl."

"What!"

The king's smirk became more sinister, "Gaalin is your name, is that correct?"

Gaalin swallowed the lump in his throat. "Why do you want me? There are many others more suitable to be a housecarl than I."

"Why should I waste one of my subjects on an elf? I don't believe they've done anything wrong, so why should I punish them? Besides, I've heard of you, and your deeds. You're quite famous around these parts. You'll agree, won't you?"