The North King slumbered away in his bed, as the night drifted by his open balcony doors, oblivious to the clomping hooves against the courtyard cobblestone. He had fallen asleep in the same clothes he had worn for the duration of 3 days in wait for his son, and his body had finally forced him to receive some desperately needed sleep.

Aidan O’Malley had gone through the motions of handling courtiers, and budgeting out the necessary resources for ferrying merchants across the Fey inflicted lake with a distracted vigor that made several courtiers share nervous glances at seeing their King so unlike his normally sharp good-humored self.

His flurry of tasks had been to serve as a distraction as he waited for the safe return of his son. Moving, running, and thinking until he could no longer function, he had collapsed on his bed in a stupor, and slept dreamlessly without budging in hours. It had been dueling the new soldiers in the courtyard that had done him in.

As a dark figure slipped into his room, and gracefully sailed over to the unconscious body of the King, Aidan O’Malley awoke, but continued to measure his breaths so that he still appeared asleep.

As the figure bent over the King, the King’s eyes snapped open, grabbed the front of the tunic of his intruder, and bashed his forehead into their nose.

Despite the King being in his 40’s he jumped to his feet with the agility of a cat, and grabbed the dagger from his belt just in time to hear the garbled voice;

“My King! It is me!”

Aidan lowered his blade at the sound of his Servicer’s voice, and quickly lit a candle by his bedside.

It could have been the flickering shadows across Ekon’s dark face, but the King could’ve sworn he saw flames of hatred flash across the man’s bloodied face, but as the King narrowed his gaze the cool mask suddenly reappeared.

“My Lord, I am sorry for startling you, but I came to alert you that your son has returned.”

As the King sheathed his dagger and stared with narrowed eyes at the Servicer in the darkness, he began moving towards the door.

“You should have announced yourself upon entering the room Ekon. I am sorry for injuring you, please go see the court physician immediately.” The Servicer gave a brief bow, still clutching his bleeding nose, and turned to leave the bedchamber with the King hot on his heels.

Aidan filed away the incident as something to ponder more thoroughly later.

As soon as the two men’s paths took them down separate corridors, the King broke out into a run as he darted down the hallway silently, leapt down the stairs, and broke through the door to the courtyard wildly.

His eyes rested on Tork whom looked grim as he held a torch high in the air, illuminating the courtyard with its gardens and stone benches, as the unmistakable form of the Prince slowly slid off the cart.

The King ran to him so quickly, that the Prince let out a small yelp in surprise when he was suddenly pulled into a crushing embrace.

“Dad I-”

“Don’t you ever do that again.” The King whispered his throat closing as he spoke.

“I cannot lose you. Don’t you ever, ever-”

“Dad I’m home, it’s okay. I swear. I can’t die yet- I still haven’t beaten you at poker or in dueling. Someone still needs to take you down a few pegs.” The King laughed as tears fell down his face. He still was clutching to his son’s undeniably smaller form.

“Eat and go to bed immediately. I want to hear everything in the morning.” The King released his son whom looked pale in the faint firelight, and as though he had lost a good deal of weight in the span of a nearly a month.

“Yes father.” The Prince gave a short bow as 2 footmen appeared yawning from the castle doorways.

As soon as the prince had receded into the shadows of the castle, the King turned to Tork his eyes still red with tears.

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse with emotion, and Tork shifted uncomfortably at hearing it.

“It is my duty and honor my liege to-”

“No. Thank you Tork. I have already arranged the funds to be transferred to you coffers. I believe you will find it a fair price for the troubles.”

“There is no need for undue generosity my King.” Tork bowed, and straightened immediately, his orange yellow eyes glowing brightly.

The King studied the Beast Awares face more openly, as he saw the near black circles under Tork’s eyes. It suddenly dawned on the King that he shouldn’t relay that he knew why Tork traveled without Lady Agnes and her Servicer in disguise, however he was surprised to see only Quib snoozing away in the cart without any sign of the tall female Beast Awares.

“Where is Ora?” The King asked softly, and watched Tork’s body visibly stiffen.

“She… She had to return home for a while.” He answered while masking his features.

“I am sorry to hear that. I hope that her family is well.” The King was skeptical at the lack of explanation, but was too indebted to Tork to press him further.

“We have much to discuss on the events pertaining to my son. Did your trainees decide to stay in Rockfell?” The King watched as a dark expression moved over Tork’s face, making him look incredibly menacing.

“No. I need to leave to retrieve them at the bequest of Lord Sean O’Farrell. Apparently they were in disguise and their true identities are Lady Agnes Beatha and her Servicer. I’m sure Duke O’Farrell already informed you of that fact however, we crossed paths on the road.” Tork studied the King’s face which remained emotionless at hearing the news.

“Yes, Lord O’Farrell is quite distraught at the departure of his betrothed. The sooner she is returned to his keep the better. I believe the household has only now discovered that she has not been in their care.”

Tork’s eyes widened in surprise.

“How did the Duke delay the discovery for so long?”

The King leaned against the cart casually as he continued to stare at Tork calculatingly.

“He employed his physician and a trusted maid to inform everyone that her illness was incredibly contagious, and so everything from food to clothes was brought in disposed of, and cycled through, to aid the illusion that she was present. They all believed her Servicer unable to leave her side for a moment. I myself am quite impressed, but I believe the Duke allowed the truth to come to light knowing that when he finds Lady Beatha he will have to return with her at his side, and couldn’t think of a way to shirk the truth any longer.” The explanation took more out of the King than he realized it would, as the days of exertion and sleeplessness began to weigh on his body.

“What is to be the Lady’s fate, my King?” Tork asked keeping his tone light, but hearing his blood roar in his ears.

“Tough to say quite honestly. Were things in the Kingdom not so… volatile at this time, she could be charged of breaking her marital contract and sent to spend her days as a scullery maid in shame to someone in the South Kingdom. However, I believe Sean O’Farrell will instead find a way of covering the scandal and still wed her.”

Tork was unable to hide his shock as his jaw dropped and he gaped wordlessly at the King.

The King looked up at the night sky, and let out a long weary sigh.

“I am telling you this in confidence Tork, as you are tasked with retrieving Lady Beatha and her Servicer, and she will need to know the consequences to her behavior. She will also need to know that her wedding will take place immediately once she is back in Sean O’Farrell’s presence.” Tork clamped his jaw shut, and the King stared at him with renewed interest.

“I’m sure you were unaware you were harboring a runaway Tork, given the extreme consequences of such an act, however did Lady Beatha say any particular reason as to why she had fled the side of Sean O’Farrell?”

Tork struggled with his dilemma in silence. The King knew that he had lied about knowing about Agnes. He had to given the subtle threat of consequences, and was now trying to use it to lever information.

Why would he care about why Lady Beatha ran though?

Resigning himself, Tork’s shoulders slumped forward.

“She had said she was in danger from a man when she was staying with the Minkies. She said that he had been bullying, domineering, and cruel. She fled to make a better life for herself where she might be free.”

“Interesting.” The King uttered softly, his pale green eyes that were uncannily similar to Aggie’s were bright in the firelight.

“Well, I have only known Sean to be kind towards those lesser than himself, so I am more inclined to believe that the young Lady merely didn’t wish to marry an old man. A pity that she lacks a sense of duty, and is marrying into such a high position of power.”

Tork studied the King carefully. He was being strangely forthcoming about his opinions and facts pertaining to Lady Beatha, and Tork couldn’t help but feel that something was amiss...

Something he wasn’t seeing.

“Forgive my saying my Lord, but in my time of knowing Lady Beatha, even though she was disguised, she was not vain or dimwitted. She was an adept student, and though naïve, quite clever. Though there is one character feature that might have incurred a less than favorable side of Duke O’Farrell, if I might speak frankly my King?” Aidan had a small smile on his face as he folded his arms and nodded at Tork in encouragement.

“Lady Beatha has her own mind, and does not cow to other’s wishes. The Duke likes things done a particular way, and expects people to do as he says. He also is not known to be particularly welcoming of nobility, and might not have appreciated her more spirited side. He may have viewed it more as insolence than a woman used to having a say, and an opinion.” Tork’s insight obviously surprised the King, and he processed the information carefully.

“Have you seen Duke O’Farrell be unkind before, Tork?”

“I have seen him be brash and forceful.” He knew he had answered the question too hastily, but the King didn’t reprimand him for the disparaging description.

After a few more moments of silence, the King spoke again.

“Unfortunately, there is little that can be done. Unfavorable marriages happen, and the couple must learn to manage their differences and face their problems. Running away and… training to be a bounty hunter, was foolish on Lady Beatha’s part.” The King looked as though he were caught between disbelief and laughing at imagining Lady Beatha as a bounty hunter.

“Ah well. Please rest before your departure tomorrow, and I wish to hear every detail of my son’s rescue before you leave in the morning. A chamber has been readied for you.” The King stood, and Tork gave a quick bow as the King retired for the night, leaving Tork standing in the courtyard clutching his torch with a his heart hammering.

One thing was certain… he would never hand over Lady Beatha to Sean O’Farrell. As the Beast Awares gently awoke Quib, his mind returned to its fretting cycle of fear and anger over Aggie and Arlen.

He had to find them, and agonized over whether or not they were still alive and well.

“If any harm has come to them…” Tork thought as he handed the reins of the horses to a young sleepy stable hand that had staggered into the courtyard.

“I will slaughter the tribe that took them.”

***

Arlen opened his eyes slowly, and breathed in shakily as he expected any movement of life to bring him pain. Instead, he found his breaths came and went with the same healthy ease they always had, but frowned as he realized there was a weight on his chest.

Raising his head slowly from the ground, he found himself staring at the top of Aggie’s messy matted hair. Arlen sat up higher, and was able to see that Aggie had half fallen asleep on him in the night, and as the Minkies bustled around them cleaning up breakfast daggers and stomping out the fire, he realized no one was staring at them scandalized.

Arlen shifted more noticeably causing Aggie to stir from her sleep, and raising her head from Arlen’s chest.

She blinked blearily, before she locked eyes with Arlen’s stunned ones.

“How’re you feeling?” She asked quietly her eyes full of worry.

“Fine. I… I am sorry for causing you distress my Lady. It was my own poor behavior that lead to the unfortunate incident.” He bowed his head shamed, and Aggie was grateful he couldn’t see the hurt and anger she felt that he should apologize for being in agonizing pain.

“Arlen, please don’t apologize. I… Just. Don’t.” She sighed, and stared at him quietly, her face tense and concerned.

Arlen opened his mouth to argue the point, but she rose to her feet and left before he could object any further.

Aggie was rubbing sleep from her eyes as she walked to the bright cave opening, and looked around as the warriors packed up their sleeping mats and sharpened their daggers in silence. There was a strange grimness in the air that puzzled Aggie as she looked at all of their agitated faces.

She was lost to her thoughts when a pair of hands clasped her shoulders, and a set of thumbs began rubbing deep relaxing circles between her shoulder blades.

“Who… the fuck… is touching me?” Aggie asked through gritted teeth, despite having a good idea of who it was before he answered.

“Mek.”

Aggie closed her eyes and wrenched herself from his grasp. She turned around scowling darkly at the entertained Minkies man, but found herself being surprised at the sight of him.

He had no beard like the other Minkies men, and had sheared off much of his hair which had previously appeared as wild and matted as Aggie’s own hair. Yet even more surprising, his former black facial markings that matched the rest of the tribe was scrubbed free, exposing his golden skin with its small dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

Without the hair, Aggie realized he was actually only a few years older than her, and he actually was quite attractive… the realization made her briefly forget that he had been attempting to rub her shoulders moments before.

“You… Shaved.” She managed trying to regain her former fury and cover up her obvious surprise.

“The bugs get bad if I don’t sometimes.” He replied lazily as his gaze drifted over her figure without a hint of discretion.

“I have those.”

“Bugs?” Mek’s eyes locked on her own as she stared levelly at him. She had supplied the information in hopes of disgusting him, but he seemed all too cavalier about hearing that she came with pests in her hair.

Aggie nodded and folded her arms over her chest.

“You should cut your hair much shorter. We can get them out much easier.” He said evenly, betraying no sign of disgust.

“I’m not cutting my hair.”

“Your hair isn’t salvageable anyway. It’s matted. They will lay eggs more easily if you don’t.” Aggie squirmed at the imagery.

“Fine. I’ll go cut it then.”

Mek watched her go with a smile. She hadn’t risen to his bait as he had hoped she would, but knew he could whittle away at her patience throughout the day. They needed to start training soon.

Aggie settled herself on a rock, and pulled out her dagger. She took her time sharpening it, all too aware that Mek was watching her with great interest.

She grabbed at the pins that had been pinning her hair atop her head, and winced as she touched some of the dried blood that had come from the multiple bites she had received.

She had just managed to get her hair down when Arlen exited the cave staring at Mek’s intent expression curiously, then followed his line of sight, and saw his Lady about to cut dangerously close to her scalp.

“Lady Beatha, I can do that for you.” His voice sounded loud in the silence of the camp, and Aggie flushed brightly as eyes turned to her.

Arlen walked over to her, and took the dagger from her hands.

“Please stop calling me ‘Lady’, I am nothing like a Lady these days and its making me uncomfortable to hear.”

“Whether or not you like it, it is what you are.”

“Not anymore. So stop. Call me Aggie.”

Aggie wasn’t sure if it was the iron in her voice that finally convinced him, or if he was still trying to make unnecessary amends over frightening her the previous night, but he conceded by saying;

“How short would you like your hair Aggie?”

“Short enough to get the bugs out.”

“You will look very much like a boy.”

“Good. Maybe Mek the pervert will lose interest.”

As Arlen started on her hair she felt him tense at hearing the Minkies male’s name. She didn’t draw attention to it however as he bent over her, and worked methodically at removing her greasy matted hair, along with the bugs.

He was nearly finished when the Queen stepped out from the cave and addressed her tribe.

“We leave once I’ve eaten. Then we will try to make it to the foothills by nightfall. Where is Beatha and the Servicer?” She asked Mek who was still lounging by the cave entrance. He pointed to the rock Aggie was sitting on beside the small pile of hair.

The Queen cocked an eyebrow in question.

“Bugs.” Mek supplied shortly as he pushed off the wall and headed over to a group of warriors that were sharpening their weapons.

The Queen walked slowly over to her hostages, and stood in front of Aggie as Arlen dropped the last piece of her hair beside her.

Arlen had quite clearly done his best to avoid cutting the hair down to the scalp, and had left her with about 4 inches of hair and had picked through it as carefully as possible. While she didn’t look quite like a boy, she definitely had more of an edge to her look with the change.

“Servicer have you recovered?” The Queen asked, her arms folded over her chest and pretending not to notice what they were doing.

Arlen bowed low, and then righted himself.

“Yes, thanks to you I can live on to serve my Mistress.”

Aggie cringed at the words as she stared at the ground, hating them fiercely. The Queen noticed but continued to hold Arlen’s somber gaze.

“I see. We leave momentarily, so prepare to depart.” Without another word the Minkies Queen turned, and strode back into the cave.

“Thank you for cutting my hair.” Aggie ran her hands through the bristled ends with an odd lack of emotion.

“You objected so adamantly before my La- Aggie-,were the bugs truly so terrible?” Arlen asked as he stepped back from Aggie as she stood up.

“They weren’t great, but it also is just impractical. I suppose I had a little more vanity than I wanted to admit to when I had us keep some of it long. I just need to get used to no longer being a courtier.” She shrugged and stood up, then gazed out at the view before her in the brilliant morning light. It would be another sunny warm day, and as Aggie breathed in the fresh mountain air, a breeze blustered across her face.

“After the King’s Settlement, I want us to set sail to your home.” She turned to face Arlen who still looked pale after his harrowing night.

“If you will follow me to Tara first, then we can do that, but otherwise that is our priority.”

Arlen wanted to argue with her. He wanted to tell her it was no use, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. There was a weight to her gaze and her words that were different from before. A maturity, or a burden, had grown in her over night that frankly unnerved Arlen when he thought of her former bright and teasing nature.

After a moment of silent thoughtful staring, Aggie turned from him, and headed back in to the cave where the load of broken weapons they were to carry lay waiting.

As she walked, she stole a quick glance at Mek who was sitting with his fellow warriors, but was still watching Aggie with a small smile on his face.

“Oyy- Lady! Feel like letting me give that hair a good tug?” He called out to her with his eyes dancing at the sight of Aggie’s cropped hair.

Tieg whom sat with his back to Aggie smiled grimly, and all too casually, placed the dagger he had been sharpening down near his side.

Aggie burned bright red at the taunt, and slowly walked over to the group of men who chuckled at her flushed complexion.

“Virgin or not, I doubt you can handle me.” She said coolly.

With a sweep of her hand, Aggie picked up the blade Tieg had just placed down, and threw it with great precision near Mek’s right ear, only to find with stunned surprise, that he had caught it by the handle as it had cart wheeled by him.

“We’ll see about that.” Mek smiled all the more brilliantly, and for some reason, Aggie felt more embarrassed at the feelings she had staring at his smile than she did at having her surprise move prove to be nothing but child’s play to a group of warriors.

“Now Princess, want to learn how to do something better than party tricks?”