Chapter Eighty-one

CONTENT ADVISORY / TRIGGER WARNING

THIS NOVEL CONTAINS DEPICTIONS/STRONG IMPLICATIONS OF THE FOLLOWING THAT SOME READERS MAY FIND OFFENSIVE OR DISTURBING:

~ VIOLENCE

~ PROFANITY

Several days had passed since Libelle and Eskil had returned to her manor. The days went by quickly while she attended to her home and livestock, and both men bickered their days and nights away. Gaalin being his usual overprotective and aggressive self towards the man-beast. Eskil being sadistic and sarcastic while constantly taunting the dark elf in front of Libelle.

He had grumbled with her when she had forced him to sleep in the fully furnished room opposite hers, yet despite his grumbling, he still managed to sneak her away from prying eyes. This was not as often as he would have liked due to Gaalin's constant hovering, but Eskil had grown tired of the male servant, and his sexual frustrations were becoming overwhelming. When Eskil started to play practical pranks on the servant, Libelle knew she had to get them out of the house or she would lose her mind.

"Gaalin, will you please take Eskil to the tailor and have him fitted for more...appealing clothes?" Libelle asked, examining a delicious looking red apple before adding it to her filling basket. She weaved through the markets of Edinburgh during the early afternoon, the trio having left her home before dawn.

Eskil stood behind her with his arms crossed and a forced frown on his face while he followed her around the city markets, glaring from beneath the hooded cloak she had provided. The clothes he wore were tattered and had the odor of a specific, foul smelling, grey-skinned elf.

Gaalin was rummaging through his satchel and handing a few coins to the merchant. "Would it not be best to leave him in his current attire? He's not worth spending the gold on."

Eskil's glare became less forced when he curled his lip at the man. "You're not worth the air you breathe," he hissed, loud enough for the drow to hear.

Gaalin whipped around, raising his hand to strike at Eskil when Libelle's slender fingers curled around his wrist. Her eyes narrowed as she spoke to him calmly. "I've had enough of your ill temper. I do not allow such treatment of my servants, and I will not allow such treatment of my captives."

Gaalin's hand lowered, and in a hushed tone he spoke to her with his back to Eskil. "My lady, you have yet to explain to me what you're planning to do with him. Why exactly are you wasting your coin on such a creature?"

She shrugged, turned and walked away to the next merchant. "I plan to do exactly as I've already told him. I'll clothe him, feed him, and keep my eye on him."

Gaalin rolled his eyes. "And? What else?"

"Nothing else."

Gaalin glared at Eskil when he heard him chuckle. "You must be joking. For once in your life, you have him at your complete mercy and you could make him suffer for all the pain he has caused mankind. You could wring him up in the stockades and beat him, although that still wouldn't be enough. You could kill him, after all, it's the only fate he deserves. Why won't you do that?"

She smiled gently at the young daughter of the merchant. She was learning the trade, and Libelle was enjoying the enthusiastic way in which she counted a dozen potatoes. They were bound to be bruised, and her grimacing father nodded apologetically while saying they were free. She handed the young girl a few coins anyway, trading them for the spuds.

"I won't do that because it's not what I was tasked to do. I was tasked to keep my eye on him, ensure he doesn't get into trouble, and to keep him safe."

Her retainer nearly screamed in frustration. "Keep him safe?"

She sighed, "Gaalin, I am trying to enjoy the morning market, and I am growing tired of this conversation. My intentions are clear, and my decision has been made. Eskil, him, the one standing behind you with a sadistic smile on his face, is here to stay. He will board in my home where he will be safe from harm, and that includes you. Is that understood?"

"No, it's not understood!" he argued, once again pointing at Eskil who was standing uncomfortably while the same little girl tried to hand him a bruised potato.

"My lady, please forgive me and understand why I must say this. It's lunacy for you to keep the prince of dragons in your home. It's lunacy for you to treat him as if he were a guest!"

Merchants and other dwellers of Edinburgh had paused their shopping to listen into their no longer private conversation. Some even stopped and came over to stand near them just to overhear the argument. Libelle was growing uncomfortable in the crowd, and even though she was not behind her helm, she felt urged on. She stood in the town square dressed in commoner's clothing, a long, blue-dyed wool dress. Yet she looked anything but common, especially with two men following her around calling her 'my lady.'

"Enough, Gaalin, we will discuss this later. Privately."

She could see his frustration and she understood it, but it was still not appreciated. He knew better than to argue with her like this, especially publically. With so many prying ears around them, she couldn't risk the common people finding out about Eskil, not until she'd had a chance to speak with the King of Edinburgh.

Gaalin looked like he wanted to say more; he was trembling with his anger like a child. For a moment, she thought he would continue with his outburst, but instead, he grumbled something unintelligible, grabbed Eskil's cloak and practically dragged the man-beast down the street.

Eskil cursed as he was yanked backwards by 'grey-skin,' his cloak still pulled down over his eyes so it was impossible for him to know where the dark elf was dragging him off to. He was spun around a corner and then his back slammed up against a stone wall. Cursing again, he lifted the edge of his hood up and glared down at the tip of the same dagger that had pierced his arm several evenings before. Gaalin pushed him backwards with a menacing glare.

Eskil chuckled, the noise a mixture of being both entertained and annoyed. "Problem, grey skin?"

"You vile creature, I ought to kill you right now."

Eskil snorted, "It's hard to be intimidated by someone so much more...minuscule than I."

"Bastard!"

"Dinner," he snickered.

"Threaten me all you like, scum." The dagger came closer. "If you ever hurt her, I will be the one to take your life!"

Grey skin was showing too much possessiveness towards Libelle, Eskil thought. Perhaps the drow felt more than loyalty towards her, and if that was the case, his aggression made sense. It was unacceptable for any man to show lewd interest in her though. She belonged to Eskil. He wanted to tear the dark elf apart then and there, but the blasted curse prevented it as a twinge of pain radiated through his chest with just the thought of it.

He stared down at the dagger. He may not be able to kill the man, but surely he could toy with him like how he had with Libelle. He bent down over the dark elf, his lips curling into a twisted smile while his expression turned dark and threatening.

He whispered into Gaalin's ear. "The slayer's life is mine."

The simple phrase set the sensitive man off. He snarled and tried slashing at Eskil with a curse. Eskil's concern had been proven right, the manservant did feel more than loyalty to her. No one, not even a retainer or companion would ever react like this if their master was threatened. Not any average ones at least. With this attack, however, he predicted his move and evaded the blade, grabbed the man's shirt and lifted him off the ground.

"Listen you pathetic mortal, if you threaten me one more time, even the gods wouldn't be able to save you. I don't care if this curse destroys me in the process, I will burn your body to ash and leave your soul to wander aimlessly in Hel for all eternity. I will remove your eyes, your tongue, and your nose so that you will wander with no sight, taste, or smell. All you will be able to do is hear...hear your own agonizing screams as your soul remains trapped and faces endless torture. There will be no end to your suffering."

Gaalin grabbed hold of Eskil's wrist, the man-beast had been able to lift him so effortlessly off the ground with a single hand. Panic rose in him and as he looked down at Eskil's mortal face, he felt nothing but terror. For behind his glowering expression, Gaalin swore he saw Eskil's true horned and scaled face staring back at him. He felt as if the fangs of the winged beast were opening up over him as the dark aura surrounded and suffocated him. He thought he was going to die, and the sensation was constricting around his soul.

"You there! What are you doing?"

Eskil dropped the drow when an Edinburgh guard rounded the corner, seeing the two mid-scuffle he approached them to intervene. As he stomped up to them, sword drawn, Eskil yanked Gaalin's arm and forced him to stand.

"Nothing," Eskil smirked. "My friend here just felt a bit woozy, I was just helping him up."

The guard looked between them both suspiciously.

"Is that right?" he asked Gaalin.

Gaalin panted but looked back at Eskil who still radiated that intimidating aura with such an intense glare. He was compelled to agree.

Sheepishly, he spoke to the guard. "Yes, I've just had a bit too much to drink. He was helping me up."

"Right, too much to drink." Eskil forced a smile.

The guard stared at them for a moment longer, then sighed and nodded. "Alright then, just be sure to sleep it off somewhere else."

Watching the guard leave, Eskil bent down to speak into Gaalin's ear again. He spoke slowly with all of his rage and possessiveness for Libelle in each word. "For the she-elf, and only for her, I am merely behaving." He walked away, pausing to turn back towards his new rival. "For now."