farkasfenrikson

[farkasfenrikson]

The idea was scary… and intimidating. It went against every code that he had been raised to follow by since the tender age of five, it was all he had ever known and all he expected to know. She was right, he obeyed every rule to perfection, often refusing to call her by her own name no matter how much she insisted. But even Farkas had his limits. Even he recognised what was right from what was wrong, and containing his best friend behind the palace walls the way the monarchy did was cruel. How was she ever expected to lead a realm she knew nothing about? Rule a group of people she had never met or spoken to. If they were caught… it would be disastrous. But they weren’t unintelligent people; there were ways, thanks to magic, to conceal their plans. He watched her rise to her feel, peering down at her with his hands behind his back, nodding and smiling softly, that delicate smile that he always had only growing a little. “Mhm, of course I do… though, we must take caution!” There it was. Classic Farkas, worried and concerned about what something might entail. “Yes, we must take caution, but.. provided we conceal certain aspects, I believe we can have an enjoyable evening.”

It was risky. Letting the princess explore town like that? If anything happened, he would never forgive himself. And he wouldn’t have time to forgive himself, for his head would probably be on a pike. But Farkas was the best of the guard, excellent with a sword and excellent with his werewolf gifts. Nothing was going to happen. “No toying. How is a princess ever to become queen for a realm if she has never even seen the realm or conversed with it’s people? I do not enjoy seeing you being the palace walls all day, princess. I just ask one thing of you — stay at my side at all times. No… no doing what you do best; wandering. As hard as that may seem.” She could not get distracted and wander away from him.

“We will need to conceal your identity a little.” He continued, “Your dress, your jewels, and most definitely no crowns. Perhaps a change in eye colour? What about yellow? You can… be my cousin visiting from another town.” He laughed softly.

The life of a princess was one that was supposed to be filled with wonder and splendor. Galavanting through the extensive marbled halls of the palace, evenings spent attending balls and engaging with the likes of nobility from all across Eyiven, mingling among those whom were desperate to a chance to court the crowned princess and future queen of such an extensive land. But never in that list that was longer than her entire stature was included the prospect of potentially leaving the palace grounds out into the realm that she was meant to govern.

Every single day, Athea would stand on her balcony in her massive chambers looking down onto the palace grounds before she would cast her eyes towards the city that lingered beyond the palace gates which she never had dared to leave. She would watch the way the servants would leave for the evening, the cooks, the maids, the cleaners. She would watch the way the tutors and philosophers whom tended to live in the palace library would walk down the path holding armfuls of books. She would watch as all the knights whom watched the grounds during the day would leave but simultaneously greet those whom would be watching the grounds into the hours of the night. And how she longed to be like them. How she longed to one day go past the glimmering golden gates and see what was offered beyond the palace walls. But her mother, Queen Kree would never allow it.

Her brothers were allowed to do as they please, however, and often times they would leave the palace grounds to focus on their own work only to come back in the night with little gifts for their baby sister and stories of their daily antics.

Ayas - who was basically her twin brother with the 10 month age gap between them - was infamously known for coming back with sweets for Athea from the bakery considering he seemed to have started courting one of the towns best bakers. A young woman their age named Niana. And to be courted by none other than a prince was a big deal. She would sit and listen to Ayas speak of his chats with Niana as she ate her baked goods with nothing but a smile on her face before one of her other brothers would show up and come to sit by her. Then the topics would shift to their day and what they did. And in a way, Athea was blessed by the goddesses above that her brothers doted so much on her that they were so open to sharing their lives this way. Knowing all too well of the confines she endured by simply being the heir to the thrown. But her safety was priority and as much as they attempted to sway their mother… they also knew why Kree remained so adamant on the matter. With Athea’s slightly frantic and carefree excitement for life, the outside was a dangerous place.

Tonight had been no different except that this time, the young princess had been out on the palace grounds collecting flowers when the bells had chimed and marked the end of the working day for those who bustled about the palace in the day. A small frown had formed on her face as she looked up and saw the position of the sun hanging lower in the sky as she held her basket in her hands. Farkas typically would remain by her side until she chose to dismiss him and she only looked back at the young man who held a single flower in his hand that she herself had gifted to him. Her best friend and her loyal knight, she wished to never take away from his time spent by himself without having to worry about running after her when she momentarily became distracted by fluttering birds or peculiar fish in the ponds around the palace grounds. It would be selfish and wrong.

Her heart pang at the thought of what he may have planned for the evening once she allowed him his reprieve as they made their way up towards her chambers in silence. Would he be going to see friends? Would… he be going to see a girl? A pretty werewolf girl whom did not need to be trapped somewhere and could perhaps do fun activities with him? It was no mystery that when she looked upon Farkas those purple hues of hers shown brighter and after the incident where her eyes had seen him at his bare.. the young girl has been left very confused and frazzled. But the girls feelings for her knight weren’t exactly consistent and often times the pull she had to him felt… different.

They had soon made it to her chambers where the knight had opened her door for her before she allowed herself to enter shortly after. The basket of flowers in her hand found their home on her bed as she moved to open her balcony doors as the crisp evening air wandered into her room. “Where do you believe them all to be going tonight, Farkas?” She asked the boy as she stepped outside and looked down upon those leaving the palace. “Do you believe they shall be wandering home? Or perhaps they shall be on their way to indulge in a beverage with friends? Do the people of the village below hold festivities where they may dance into the wary hours of the morning?” She spoke with a longing that Farkas would be more than aware of and it was heartbreaking to listen to.

The dress she wore was a beautiful burgundy decorated with a delicate lace and gorgeous white flowers trailed the hem of the large dress for an added pop. She moved easily in her dress as she found herself soon plopping down onto the floor of her balcony, her small hands holding onto the ornate golden metal that decorated the boundary around it. Athea sat in silence for a moment as she watched more and more people exit the place she called home, sadness soon riddling her face as she looked down at her lap. Her eyes glossed over slightly as she did her best to brush it away as she turned to Farkas with a smile, “You may leave me here, Farkas, I shall see you in the morrow. Viktor shall be here soon to watch mine door during the hours I dream…” her tone was weak and laced in disappointment. In sadness. “Enjoy thy evening…” With a small, forced smile, she turned her attention back down to the people outside.

[farkasfenrikson]

Her questions made him laugh softly, shaking his head a little as he folded his arms over. “They are all those things and more, Your Highness,” He began, his voice always quiet and calm but always more so when the evenings drew to a close. He’d always preferred the night time over day. “People laugh and they cry and they dance.. oh, altercations are most frequent in those places. Mead and ale seem to bring out the worst in citizens.” He didn’t mention much on his own personal experiences; he was a couple of years older than Athea, and as such had gone through a few extra awkward situations. Like his moment with Ioana, a girl his age who worked at one of the taverns he used to frequent at. It almost seemed unlike Farkas to do something like that, but he was human with a human heart and emotions. He wanted to experience things. “My experiences have always been pleasant, I would say so. I’m a amiable customer.” He joked gently.

As it was evening, he didn’t wear his usual armour that he did when on duty. Instead, he wore a white, long-sleeved shirt with a protective vest under, dark black and boots and dark pants to match. Holstered at his side was a sword. As a werewolf, armour wasn’t so necessary. He was undeniably attractive in his outfit, curly hair and a warm smile to match. Couple that with supportive and attentive nature to his friends made for a likeable being. But he couldn’t bear to see her upset still no matter how she smiled at him, and his recent imprinting fiasco meant his love for rules was wavering a little. “Actually, Your Highness… I was wondering about a proposition I had.” He said, moving to balcony railing and gesturing to the town. “Would it not be nice to perhaps… have a little trip to the city this evening? You could see the famed taverns yourself.” He just wanted to do something good for her. When others refused.

The life of a princess was one that was supposed to be filled with wonder and splendor. Galavanting through the extensive marbled halls of the palace, evenings spent attending balls and engaging with the likes of nobility from all across Eyiven, mingling among those whom were desperate to a chance to court the crowned princess and future queen of such an extensive land. But never in that list that was longer than her entire stature was included the prospect of potentially leaving the palace grounds out into the realm that she was meant to govern.

Every single day, Athea would stand on her balcony in her massive chambers looking down onto the palace grounds before she would cast her eyes towards the city that lingered beyond the palace gates which she never had dared to leave. She would watch the way the servants would leave for the evening, the cooks, the maids, the cleaners. She would watch the way the tutors and philosophers whom tended to live in the palace library would walk down the path holding armfuls of books. She would watch as all the knights whom watched the grounds during the day would leave but simultaneously greet those whom would be watching the grounds into the hours of the night. And how she longed to be like them. How she longed to one day go past the glimmering golden gates and see what was offered beyond the palace walls. But her mother, Queen Kree would never allow it.

Her brothers were allowed to do as they please, however, and often times they would leave the palace grounds to focus on their own work only to come back in the night with little gifts for their baby sister and stories of their daily antics.

Ayas - who was basically her twin brother with the 10 month age gap between them - was infamously known for coming back with sweets for Athea from the bakery considering he seemed to have started courting one of the towns best bakers. A young woman their age named Niana. And to be courted by none other than a prince was a big deal. She would sit and listen to Ayas speak of his chats with Niana as she ate her baked goods with nothing but a smile on her face before one of her other brothers would show up and come to sit by her. Then the topics would shift to their day and what they did. And in a way, Athea was blessed by the goddesses above that her brothers doted so much on her that they were so open to sharing their lives this way. Knowing all too well of the confines she endured by simply being the heir to the thrown. But her safety was priority and as much as they attempted to sway their mother… they also knew why Kree remained so adamant on the matter. With Athea’s slightly frantic and carefree excitement for life, the outside was a dangerous place.

Tonight had been no different except that this time, the young princess had been out on the palace grounds collecting flowers when the bells had chimed and marked the end of the working day for those who bustled about the palace in the day. A small frown had formed on her face as she looked up and saw the position of the sun hanging lower in the sky as she held her basket in her hands. Farkas typically would remain by her side until she chose to dismiss him and she only looked back at the young man who held a single flower in his hand that she herself had gifted to him. Her best friend and her loyal knight, she wished to never take away from his time spent by himself without having to worry about running after her when she momentarily became distracted by fluttering birds or peculiar fish in the ponds around the palace grounds. It would be selfish and wrong.

Her heart pang at the thought of what he may have planned for the evening once she allowed him his reprieve as they made their way up towards her chambers in silence. Would he be going to see friends? Would… he be going to see a girl? A pretty werewolf girl whom did not need to be trapped somewhere and could perhaps do fun activities with him? It was no mystery that when she looked upon Farkas those purple hues of hers shown brighter and after the incident where her eyes had seen him at his bare.. the young girl has been left very confused and frazzled. But the girls feelings for her knight weren’t exactly consistent and often times the pull she had to him felt… different.

They had soon made it to her chambers where the knight had opened her door for her before she allowed herself to enter shortly after. The basket of flowers in her hand found their home on her bed as she moved to open her balcony doors as the crisp evening air wandered into her room. “Where do you believe them all to be going tonight, Farkas?” She asked the boy as she stepped outside and looked down upon those leaving the palace. “Do you believe they shall be wandering home? Or perhaps they shall be on their way to indulge in a beverage with friends? Do the people of the village below hold festivities where they may dance into the wary hours of the morning?” She spoke with a longing that Farkas would be more than aware of and it was heartbreaking to listen to.

The dress she wore was a beautiful burgundy decorated with a delicate lace and gorgeous white flowers trailed the hem of the large dress for an added pop. She moved easily in her dress as she found herself soon plopping down onto the floor of her balcony, her small hands holding onto the ornate golden metal that decorated the boundary around it. Athea sat in silence for a moment as she watched more and more people exit the place she called home, sadness soon riddling her face as she looked down at her lap. Her eyes glossed over slightly as she did her best to brush it away as she turned to Farkas with a smile, “You may leave me here, Farkas, I shall see you in the morrow. Viktor shall be here soon to watch mine door during the hours I dream…” her tone was weak and laced in disappointment. In sadness. “Enjoy thy evening…” With a small, forced smile, she turned her attention back down to the people outside.

[farkasfenrikson]

Athea masked her sadness well, it hid behind her naturally bubbly nature oh so seamlessly, but Farkas was her best friend. He knew better than anyone, better than her own mother at times, it seemed. And what he sensed was a very lonely person. Like previously said, they were best friends, but sometimes when they were together, he noticed the way she seemed to almost place herself in a box. Her life was extremely isolated, she had no freedoms and no say in the choices of her own life. Everything was decided and predicted for her. And Farkas couldn’t help her… that’s what hurt most. Seeing his oldest and dearest friend suffer internally like this frustrated him, and it was hard not too; he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been around the princess offering her support in some way or the other. It was all he had ever known since the tender age of four and all he had trained to do his entire life. Be her best friend and be her protective companion. His father’s family had served the royal family personally for centuries, and Fenrik himself was personal guard to the Queen; Farkas was offered the role of her protection at the young age of four, and every day since bar two evenings a week, he stood at her side. But the one thing he couldn’t protect her from was her own entrapment.

This evening was a perfect example of this. The entire day she had seemed a little quiet, but watching now, as the sun set, how she watched people leave through the main gates with such sadness in her eyes left him… troubled. Something unexpected had happened in Farkas’ life, recently, something unorthodox and something that wasn’t supposed to happen. Ever. He had imprinted… on the princess. He could remember the day so clearly, they’d simply been in the palace gardens one day, when she had suddenly rushed off to coo over a beautiful bird that had landed in one of the bushes. It had been such a simple day, but that feeling had crept into his skin and broken the ground beneath him. Suddenly, he worshipped the ground she walked on. He had always loved Athea, always as s friend and perhaps in other ways that he never truly admitted to himself, but suddenly she twisted up his stomach and twisted up his brain. And he was absolutely petrified and absolutely heartbroken by this revelation, for a werewolf only ever imprinted once, and it never went away. He recalled confessing to his mother, weeping softly on her shoulder about how there was nothing he could do. He had formed an everlasting, unbreakable bond with a girl he could never have. That hurt most of all.

It seemed this imprinting fiasco had, however, loosened him up a little. Farkas was many things but he had always been too rigid for his own good. Now, he seemed to be creating opportunities for the princess more often than he should. “Many return to their families or lovers, Your Highness, but yes, many journey to taverns for the evening. I myself visit sometimes on my evenings off.” He smiled. The pair were stood on her beautiful balcony of her chambers. To see her use silence was rare, and the glossy look in her eyes wasn’t lost on the tall werewolf. “Actually, princess… I am staying on tonight. Viktor won’t be replacing me. If… that is okay?”

The life of a princess was one that was supposed to be filled with wonder and splendor. Galavanting through the extensive marbled halls of the palace, evenings spent attending balls and engaging with the likes of nobility from all across Eyiven, mingling among those whom were desperate to a chance to court the crowned princess and future queen of such an extensive land. But never in that list that was longer than her entire stature was included the prospect of potentially leaving the palace grounds out into the realm that she was meant to govern.

Every single day, Athea would stand on her balcony in her massive chambers looking down onto the palace grounds before she would cast her eyes towards the city that lingered beyond the palace gates which she never had dared to leave. She would watch the way the servants would leave for the evening, the cooks, the maids, the cleaners. She would watch the way the tutors and philosophers whom tended to live in the palace library would walk down the path holding armfuls of books. She would watch as all the knights whom watched the grounds during the day would leave but simultaneously greet those whom would be watching the grounds into the hours of the night. And how she longed to be like them. How she longed to one day go past the glimmering golden gates and see what was offered beyond the palace walls. But her mother, Queen Kree would never allow it.

Her brothers were allowed to do as they please, however, and often times they would leave the palace grounds to focus on their own work only to come back in the night with little gifts for their baby sister and stories of their daily antics.

Ayas - who was basically her twin brother with the 10 month age gap between them - was infamously known for coming back with sweets for Athea from the bakery considering he seemed to have started courting one of the towns best bakers. A young woman their age named Niana. And to be courted by none other than a prince was a big deal. She would sit and listen to Ayas speak of his chats with Niana as she ate her baked goods with nothing but a smile on her face before one of her other brothers would show up and come to sit by her. Then the topics would shift to their day and what they did. And in a way, Athea was blessed by the goddesses above that her brothers doted so much on her that they were so open to sharing their lives this way. Knowing all too well of the confines she endured by simply being the heir to the thrown. But her safety was priority and as much as they attempted to sway their mother… they also knew why Kree remained so adamant on the matter. With Athea’s slightly frantic and carefree excitement for life, the outside was a dangerous place.

Tonight had been no different except that this time, the young princess had been out on the palace grounds collecting flowers when the bells had chimed and marked the end of the working day for those who bustled about the palace in the day. A small frown had formed on her face as she looked up and saw the position of the sun hanging lower in the sky as she held her basket in her hands. Farkas typically would remain by her side until she chose to dismiss him and she only looked back at the young man who held a single flower in his hand that she herself had gifted to him. Her best friend and her loyal knight, she wished to never take away from his time spent by himself without having to worry about running after her when she momentarily became distracted by fluttering birds or peculiar fish in the ponds around the palace grounds. It would be selfish and wrong.

Her heart pang at the thought of what he may have planned for the evening once she allowed him his reprieve as they made their way up towards her chambers in silence. Would he be going to see friends? Would… he be going to see a girl? A pretty werewolf girl whom did not need to be trapped somewhere and could perhaps do fun activities with him? It was no mystery that when she looked upon Farkas those purple hues of hers shown brighter and after the incident where her eyes had seen him at his bare.. the young girl has been left very confused and frazzled. But the girls feelings for her knight weren’t exactly consistent and often times the pull she had to him felt… different.

They had soon made it to her chambers where the knight had opened her door for her before she allowed herself to enter shortly after. The basket of flowers in her hand found their home on her bed as she moved to open her balcony doors as the crisp evening air wandered into her room. “Where do you believe them all to be going tonight, Farkas?” She asked the boy as she stepped outside and looked down upon those leaving the palace. “Do you believe they shall be wandering home? Or perhaps they shall be on their way to indulge in a beverage with friends? Do the people of the village below hold festivities where they may dance into the wary hours of the morning?” She spoke with a longing that Farkas would be more than aware of and it was heartbreaking to listen to.

The dress she wore was a beautiful burgundy decorated with a delicate lace and gorgeous white flowers trailed the hem of the large dress for an added pop. She moved easily in her dress as she found herself soon plopping down onto the floor of her balcony, her small hands holding onto the ornate golden metal that decorated the boundary around it. Athea sat in silence for a moment as she watched more and more people exit the place she called home, sadness soon riddling her face as she looked down at her lap. Her eyes glossed over slightly as she did her best to brush it away as she turned to Farkas with a smile, “You may leave me here, Farkas, I shall see you in the morrow. Viktor shall be here soon to watch mine door during the hours I dream…” her tone was weak and laced in disappointment. In sadness. “Enjoy thy evening…” With a small, forced smile, she turned her attention back down to the people outside.

[farkasfenrikson]

Now calm and relaxed, Farkas embraced his surroundings with a more neutral state of mind. Glancing around, he noticed the elements of nature within the room, and his wolf senses picked up on the magic that ran through them; not real fauna, yes, simply an illusion, but still beautiful. The howls in the distance slowly echoed away into the night until only silence remained, the twentieth hour commencing in full swing, and any hope of communicating with Athena as easily as he did most days had vanished. Watching her move closer to him, his glowing yellow eyes shined with something that would remind her of home, a familiar, comforting sight, his tail swaying slowly behind him. Even in this form, he was huge, towering over the girl, a common trait in his family; they always had been bigger than other wolves, at least, after everyone had their growth spurt. Her words made him move in a little, nudging her cheek gently with his nose as a sign that he understood. Almost, a thank you, for her kid words.

Seeing how she gestured to his lap, his eyes trailed after her hands slowly, expecting a proposal like this. Was it proper? Appropriate for a guard to be doing? He… wasn’t sure. But he was also her best friend, and he wanted her to be happy. Moving his head, almost as if to say ‘yes’, he shook out his fur a little before moving so he was closer, resting his fur-covered head on her lap gently. She would feel the warmth, the comfort, the safety… everything. But that was everything Farkas offered on a daily basis, just… in a difference appearance today.

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

Nodding slowly, Farkas pulled at his white shirt a little. It always had that effect on him, the full moon, made him antsy, hot under the skin, desperate the rip off the awfully itchy clothing he had to wear daily as a royal guard. “It can often take a wolf by surprise, princess, yes.” He smiled softly, feeling the redness on his cheeks as she pressed a kiss onto his skin softly. Why was he reacting this way recently when this was something she’d always done? He didn’t understand, but he didn’t have time to consider that right now. Glancing behind him once more, he noticed the way the moon was shining brightly in the sky, encouraging him to move to his feet and pace towards the partition. Before disappearing behind it, he placed his hand on the side, looking down to the girl with a grin. “I… won’t be able to talk shortly, princess. Do feel free to continue your poetry this evening, I won’t be able to stop you.” With that, he disappeared behind it.

Now covered and out of the way, Farkas let out a slow sigh, rolling his shoulders back, before beginning to remove his garments. First, his leg and arm armour, with his guard boots soon to follow. Then, his tunic and trousers, folding them up neatly and placing them on the drawer beside him. Always one for perfection and calmness, Farkas was perhaps one of the only knights, if not the only one at all, who treated his clothing with care. He could feel the breeze a little more now even though werewolves never grew cold. And lastly? His braies. Something which he removed rather cautiously; yes, Athea wouldn’t see him, but he still felt exposed. What he didn’t know was that if the teenage girl was curious, she would see through a tiny crack in the partition… well, everything. Having trained as a knight for as long as he could remember, and being blessed with the growth spurts generations of his family had, Farkas stood with a tall and strong build. Muscular and defined from all the work he put in, Athea would surely be treated if she was so curious. And, with all undergarments gone now too, a couple of extra delights as well.

Folding up the last peace of clothing, the beginning of the twentieth hour began, and the before the knight could do much else, he felt that rushing sensation his his skin, racing through his blood. A wave of comforting warmth washed over his body, and within merely a minute or so, the human teenager was gone. What replaced him was a large wolf with dark, jet black fur that shined against the torchlight. Though he wasn’t exactly small, quite the opposite, there was a gentleness to the creature, something caring in his eyes. But the wolf hadn’t exactly adjusted to his unexpected environment; being indoors. Rather than making a graceful entrance for the princess, Farkas’ prediction was correct; the animal stumbled out from behind the partition, scampering about for a moment until he heard the dozens of howls from the distance outside, a little confused. It was something that happened every full moon, wolves howling to the sky so the moon knew of their presence, but the noise triggered the wolf to let out a howl of his own, almost an innate reaction. But that familiar sound offered comfort, and it allowed the human mind to retain it’s ways, Farkas coming to the surface slowly… and realising who stood before him. His howls ceased, he grew still, and the boy grew tame, waiting for the royal teenager’s reaction.

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

Smiling as she described her rather awful ability to lie, the knight smiled softly. It was true, she always had been a terrible liar, even when they were small children and lies were a common thing that slipped from your tongue. He could recall many occasions when she had been caught doing something she shouldn’t, often roping him into the mess as well, but had been unable to escape being reprimanded by her parents, brothers or the council, for everyone could see through her words. “You always were rather terrible when it came to evading the truth, weren’t you, princess?” He joked lightly before nodding, making a mental note to not go against her words. “Of course not. Mother would like to see you regardless, I am certain that we can both find a way for you to spend some time with her. Without a single lie.”

“I speak the truth! The nymphs loathed her for her beauty, so prayed to their gods to cast her out to sea as punishment. But… the beautiful princess always had the hero ready to save her.” He had loved these stories as a child. Stories of heroes saving the day, they were always the ones he loved best. But his favourite story of all time would always be the one of Fenrir the Great. He could recall growing oh so excited each and every time his mother or father told him the story as a child, and no matter how many times he heard it, he would always listen in awe. His favourite game to play was with his toy wooden sword, pretending he was the great hero himself, and to his delight, his father would always tell him of how similar he was to Fenrir himself. I could stare at them for ever if I could. The werewolf wondered if this was how other best friends spoke to each other, if other best friends held each other’s pinky the way she held his. That hadn’t gone unnoticed. “You always speak like one of the bards in town, Athea, such poetry in your words.” But without realising, Farkas’ eyes were now fully yellow, and suddenly, all those feelings and emotions he had described to the princess earlier had come to light. Had time really gone that quickly? He didn’t seem too notice the way the minutes had flown by until he noticed the clock above her desk on the wall. Five minutes before the twentieth hour. Five minutes before he no longer be human. Sitting himself up, he turned to Athea, pulling at his shirt as he felt a little antsy, his clothes feeling tighter and his skin feeling hotter. That coupled with his nerves made for a rather fidgety Farkas. “Princess, I…” His stomach turned a little, pointing to the window where the full moon was nearly at it’s peak. “… I… may need to step behind the partition now. It’s about to happen. I can feel it.”

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

Farkas was well aware of what people said about the pair of them. That his job was never ending, that he was more like a parent than a protector sometimes, running after the easily-distracted girl who got herself into trouble way more than she should have. The sound a heels running somewhere followed by knights boots, a clanking sword and voice yelling ‘princess, please wait!’ could often be heard around the palace. And yet… he never cared. Yes, he worried for her safety, but he loved how true she was to herself. “She misses you too, Athea. Perhaps if you were to… faux a little illness, she might be able to stop by.” Acting as if she had a fever gave her the opportunity to see his mother if she truly wanted to. Tala knew the restrictions of the princess, she could keep a secret if need be. Going quiet, Farkas listened to the girl explain how the dark woods were also home to dark fae as well, something he knew little about. And how she felt pity for those wolves who chose a path of darkness as opposed to balance, and this is where their differences showed. Farkas did not feel pity, he felt strong dislike for werewolves who chose a life of violence; everyone was free to choose the sort of life they would lead, and if you chose one of darkness, how was that respectable? He thought it was anything but. But he kept those thoughts to himself. “Mhm, they hide within the woods and would never think to step into the towns or cities. They prefer it that way.”

Peering upwards, Farkas’ ever-changing eyes glowed with a gentle awe, watching the way her magic came to life to draw a rather accurate depiction of the sacred temples. Smiling, he nodded, “Very much so, princess. It’s beautiful, what you’ve created.” But soon, it vanished, as did her smile. Hearing her sigh, he knew what it meant — another reminder of something out of reach, another reminder that her freedom was nonexistent, anything but. His heart ached for his best friend, knowing she was denied something he took for granted. She would often ask him of what he spent doing when he wasn’t in the palace, to which the answer was either with friends in the city, or out in the woodlands escaping for a few hours with nature, but he avoided details. Details were more of a reminder to how trapped she was. It made him wish he could do something… find a way for her to experience life as it truly should be.

“… I…” He was stumped for words for a moment. All he could do was watch her with a beaming face, gentle and filled with happiness. She was truly beautiful, with her words, with her eyes, everything, it made the werewolf’s cheeks turn red and his skin grow warm with adoration for his best friend. But… Farkas wasn’t supposed to have thoughts like that. He could think those things about whoever he desired, except her… never her. And thus, he shoved them away into a tiny box in the back of his mind, sealing the lock away and throwing away the key. “I’ll always be your best friend, princess, I —…’ She kissed his cheek, and there was that same feeling again. His stomach churning a little. He was once again lost for words. So he chose the distraction; the stars in the sky. Casting his eyes along, he recalled learning about the stories of the stars as a child, remembering his favourites. “That constellation right there… that is Andromeda. My mother told me that she was a princess from years forgotten, cast away to the ocean for being more beautiful the old nymph tribes. But she was saved by Perseus, a hero… and they fell in love.” He knew a princess more beautiful than the rest. Moving his finger along, he pointed to another, “That one there, that is Lupus, a wolf. Mother used to tell me as a child that the moon created the constellation after me, for she had never seen a baby with eyes that glowed as bright as mine.” He chuckled softly, recalling how he used to believe such a story when he was young. “I am certain she told the same story to all of my brothers.”

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

Biting his lip, the boy grew shy. He did both of those things, but it was simply who he was. Cautious and at times, rather anxious. Any suspicion and he held a hand to his sword, ready to cross whatever the danger may be. “I simply care for your safety, that is all, princess.” But for a moment, he grew distracted; he noticed the way she was looking at him, and he felt his stomach flip. Why had this been happening so often recently? This was his best friend, someone he saw every day. Now… she made him nervous? It made no sense. “Thank you, she is wonderful. She wishes she could visit you more often, but she also believes it, in a way, to be a good thing — it means you are in good health when she is not inside the palace walls.” He joked softly, but it was true. Tala was a healer, one of the best, and was often called upon by the royal family in times of medical need. “Of course. And… I hope my children are able to continue the legacy of their family, supporting yours, making their own memories inside the palace.”

Shaking his head, Farkas wanted to laugh at all her worries. The constant concern that she would offend someone, when she was the opposite of ignorance and foolishness. “You would never offend me, Athea, curiosity is good — we would be bored without it.” He began, considering the three questions she asked. All offering something interesting to learn. “No, it is painless; this gift is… innate to our species and our species only, the shift is a natural process we all do. But, it does… it does create a tingling sensation under your skin before you change, almost… warm, akin to a crackling fire. We are naturally strong and fast, but far faster and stronger in our wolf forms, our senses far more in tune as well. We can sense things from miles away, sometimes.” But the third question made him hesitate for a moment, growing a little more serious. Wolves that couldn’t remember what they did on a full moon; they existed but were frowned upon. “The way of the werewolf, princess, is a way of balance. The man and the wolf must work together, not separately, as both parts offer goodness to our lives — leaning too far into one disregards the other, and puts you out of balance. There are people in our species who believe the wolf is superior to our human selves, and thus they choose to lead with their animal instincts far more than they should. Doing so loses your human conscience, and in turn your memories. They are dangerous people, and live outside the city, deep in the dark woods. We… do not associate with them.”

Another reminder of how restricted the princess was. Everything she knew of the outside world came from Farkas, he tried his best to make up what she was denied, bringing her gifts and items from the city when he could, but it would never make up for the taste of true freedom. “Of course,” He smiled, “They are beautiful — made of glistening white marble and moonstone, large pillars at the front, and a domed roof at the back. Inside, everything appears as the colour of the ocean, deep blues and turquoise, but the most important part is the pool in the centre. It sits below the dome, which is has an opening to allow the light of the moon inside. That is where we give thanks and leave offerings to the goddess.” He explained, hoping she would understand a little more. “That… would be nice, I think.” He nodded, shuffling so he could lay himself down, head resting against the pillows below him. “I… must confess, princess, I am a little nervous about showing you my wolf.” He began, “I haven’t ever really shown it to anyone outside my brothers, my parent and Lucian. And do not be mistaken, I will always view you as my best friend above any royal title you have, with all due respect, I just…” He turned to face the girl, a little oblivious to how close their faces were, “… I hope it meets your expectations. You grow so excited at such things, I worry it will disappoint.” He had always loved the night sky, and looked forward to her display of magic, just as he did when he was a child.

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

Laughing gently, he leaned back against the wall. “There is nothing wrong with peculiar, princess. We would all be very dull if we didn’t all have our peculiarities.” As she mentioned the colour of his eyes, the eighteen year-old nodded slowly. “I’m presuming from that they have begun to change colour — yes, over the next few hours, they will become less and less brown until eventually, they are all gold. My mother used to say they looked like lost Siren treasure when I was a child.” He explained, thinking to his mother for a moment. Tala, like many mothers, exuded nothing but warmth and goodness to her children, and though it might sound a little biased, Farkas truly did believe she was the best mother a son could ask for. All his brothers agreed. “And yours are never boring, princess, they remind me of the lavender in the courtyard gardens.” The palace was somewhere he viewed with duality; it was his workplace, ultimately, the building from which he earned his keep, but it was also filled with people he loved dearly, a home, almost. A strange balance of the two. “I will always consider the palace as a second home. Many memories lay here.”

Farkas smiled fondly towards his best friend — if there were two things Athea was, it was respectful and intrigued, the way she treated new knowledge with such a fascination never failed to cheer him up. He especially appreciated such qualities from her because he knew of how hard she prioritised giving people her full attention; she found it difficult to manage distracts, he could tell right now, it was in the small details — playing with her dress as she spoke. He wondered why she found it hard but never questioned it, he simply understood that this was how her brain worked sometimes. “You can ask any question whenever you want, princess, I don’t mind at all. It is not something to be kept a secret, our culture is common knowledge. We have, in the city, many moon temples, where we can give thanks and offerings to her. They’re beautiful.” Hesitating, Farkas shook his head — she had done more than enough, and he was grateful for it. “I… no, Athea, what you’ve done is more than I could have asked for. I am certain that I will be absolutely fine, I’m just taking precautions and wanted you to know.” Seeing the partition appear at the flick of her hand, Farkas was reminded of the wonders of magic. Though he’d never been jealous of witches and faes for having such gifts, he was in awe of what they could do, and he had seen it’s ways his entire life; it never grew old. “That is perfect. Thank you.” Why did he feel so nervous about showing her this side of him? She was his best friend, she wouldn’t care about what he looked like at all, she was simply excited to see him. But Farkas couldn’t help it, he was worried that his wolf wouldn’t be… well, good enough.

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

She spoke truthfully. No one new Athea like Farkas did, some might even argue that he knew her better than her own family did, but that’s what happened when you spend every single day of the week with the princess, when you whole life was dedicated to protecting her, decided before you had even turned five. Farkas saw Athea for who she truly was, a kind, intelligent and exciting girl full of life, not an opportunity to gain a seat on the throne as so many men of noble birth who visited the palace did. “What sort of friend would I be if I didn’t know you for all your truths, enjoy you for all your truths? Even those truths that are a little peculiar.” He teased gently, smiling brightly at the girl in a soft joke. He was beginning to loosen up a little now, he always did, you just had to give the werewolf a few moments to relax.

And away she went, squealing and jumping with excitement like she always did. Farkas was far too used to the princess greeting him with physical affections like this, be it tight hugs or quick kisses on the cheek, and though he had insisted that doing that could get her into trouble, she did it anyway. She never did listen to the rules when it came to their friendship. “Truly.” But recently, Farkas had questioned her gestures of affection less than usual, he would simply let her do as she pleased with rosy cheeks. His brown eyes glistened with something warm as she spoke of making plans, his own irises beginning to shimmer with something gold in them. This always happened on a full moon, they waved between chocolate and gold, until eventually not a speck of brown would be seen at all. Watching her move away, he stepped aside so she could cast what appeared to be an incantation, one he didn’t recognise in her usual repertoire of spells, but his eyes glowed as he noticed the elements of nature trickle into the room. It was beautiful, and what he liked. It felt… natural to be surrounded by fauna and flora, it was where wolves were meant to be, outside with nature, protecting the earth as promised. As such, Farkas wasn’t sure how his wolf would react being inside, he couldn’t remember ever spending a full moon indoors. Though he had perfect control of that side of him, at times the animal instinct took over and a wolf would reaction as a creature would, not a human. “It’s beautiful. Thank you, you’ve always made me feel most welcome in your home.” Moving to sit beside her carefully on the ground, he placed his sword beside him, crossing his legs over.

“Our full moon transformations are an important part of werewolves life’s, Athea, every single one. It is the only time we do not choose to shift, and though it most harmless and not painful at all, we always shift at the 20th hour in the day.” He began, turning to face her and explain a small aspect of his life, “We spend the evening outside, in nature, looking after fauna and flora around us, as this is our duty to the moon. She blessed us with our gifts, and in return we assure her that the earth is healthy and thriving. That is why you always hear a chorus of howls on the twentieth hour. It is our way of informing the goddess that we are at her service.” Glancing to the window, the sun was in it’s last hour. Athea would attend dinner with her family, then be excused to her chambers where she could spend the evening with him again. “I… must confess, prin— I apologise, Athea… I must confess, I do not know how my wolf will react to being indoors, I warn you that for a moment I could be slightly… nerved, so to speak.” He continued, confessing his concerns like he always did. “And… uhm, well, wolves tend to remove items of clothing but we shift, or they will rip and they cannot be salvaged. May I be excused for a moment of privacy, when the time arrives?” All he needed was a partition to stand behind.

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

Farkas loved being Athea’s best friend. She truly was the kindest soul he had ever met, and he knew how restricted she was, confined within the palace walls. Because of that, he tried to offer her as many aspects of a normal friendship that he could, but at times even he slipped into something more formal. He couldn’t help it; he took great pride in his role as personal guard ever since the day he had been assigned it at the tender age of four, and he came from a family that valued respect and honour above all. That coupled with the fear of losing his job caused him, at times, to be a little frigid, but he really ought to loosen up a little, at least behind closed doors. “Do not take my formalities as me not having care for our friendship, I do and I always will, I just… wanted to ensure I maintained my standards to the best I could. But… of course, Athea. I will learn to reduce such choices.” He smiled, making a note to abandon his formal attitude to things. All she had to do was flash those glossy eyes his way and he would crumble at her word. Then, he felt the air change; he could sense in his blood that she had grown sad at his words, something that he expected. And there she went, speaking of how she wanted to see his wolf, “It is improper, Athea, such things should only be used around royalty when in times of need and I —” Suddenly closer, he felt like someone was pulling at his heartstrings. The expression she had, the energy she exuded, the reminder that she had practically no freedom whatsoever. How could he deny someone an experience they wouldn’t get anytime else? Sighing softly, his smile returned, seeing how she held out her hand, and he gently took it into his, “… You should perhaps send a scroll to Elroy explaining that his assistance is no longer required this evening, then. I shall stay. For you.”

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

Farkas’ werewolf hearing picked up the little squeal of excitement Athea let out at his presence, smiling softly to himself as his eyes were cast to the door for a moment. He was glad to know that she enjoyed his presence as much as he enjoyed hers. Hearing her give permission for him to enter, he opened it up and headed inside, closing it behind him gently. He’d been inside the study many times, to collect her so she could make her way to an event, to oversee her as she studied, everything really, and soon enough she came in through the doorway leading to the balcony. Despite being her best friend, Farkas always followed the code of conduct within the boundaries of princess and knight, despite her insistence that he didn’t have to. He simply valued the concept of respect. “Good afternoon, your highness.” He smiled, bowing for a moment before rising back to his normal stature. “Why, thank you, that is most kind of you. The honour is mine to serve you.” He spoke earnestly; for saying he was such a force within the battle field, with weaponry, as a werewolf, Farkas spoke gently. His voice was calm, quiet, warm.

“I am sure this is known to you, your highness, but tonight is a full moon — I have arranged for Elroy to care for you this evening as I won’t be on the palace grounds.” Elroy was a faerie guard, one of the guards who replaced Farkas on the rare occasion that he was unable to attend his duties. Tonight would be one of them; the full moon was considered a sacred evening for all werewolves, and as such they were all excused from their duties if they so wished to be for the evening. The key word being ‘if’ — even though he would be stuck as a wolf, the the royal protector’s code of conduct did not specifically outline how you were to protect the royal family, just that you had to do with the upmost quality and care. Meaning, you could be a human or a wolf, as long as your house member was safe, it was okay. But Farkas never, ever remained around Athea as a wolf, as he viewed it as improper, so excused himself each time. And each time she objected and complained, saying that she wished to see his wolf, that she didn’t care about such things, and so Farkas braced himself for the usual monologue he was about to hear.

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

It was Morindas, which meant the afternoon was designated for all of the royal guard of Eyiven to do one thing and one thing only — maintain weaponry and train with their swords. All members of the guard, supervised by the head of legion, Fenrik Ulricson, spent three hours at the beginning of every week in the palace courtyard dedicated to the two tasks. One hour was made for ensuring their weapons and armour were to of standard, be in with sharpening, polishing or even at times, magical enforcement. The other two hours were spend reviewing and practicing sword skills — stances, position and aim. And that was only the first day; the other days were spent covering over forms of combat, depending on the species, or… doing their job. For Farkas, son of the head and personal knight to the princess and future queen herself, the training went as it always did — he stood at the side, calm and quiet, as Farkas was a controlled presence, not bothering a soul, simply watching the others learn.

But when it came for his time to train against another other soldier, an entirely different side appeared. Strong, cutthroat and forceful, the werewolf maintained a perfect balance with his sword that no other soldier could. But respectful all at that same time. As his father and other knights watched, the boy took down his opponent with ease, the other guard on the floor as he hovered above him, pointing the tip of his weapon just under his neck. Success. But… he wasn’t perfect. He had his flaws, or perhaps the better word was ‘distraction’. On the balcony above stood a desk with a beautiful girl sat around it, studying as he tutor oversaw her. The princess. His lifelong best friend, the one he protected every day. She had a bit of a tendency to get distracted when she worked outside, but if that’s what the princess wanted, then she got it. Looking up, he noticed her watching, and he get her a rather cheeky smile, still holding his sword in place.

“Farkas!” Fenrik called out suddenly, snapping the boy back into reality who jumped slightly, “Finish this fight properly.”

“Yes, sir.” Looking back down at his opponent, he suddenly pulled his sword back, before stabbing it into the ground beside his arm. A sign, that in a real fight, his opponent would be dead with a sword weapon through his heart. Maintaining the rules of respect, he held out his hand for the other guard to grab, pulling him up and patting him on the back. “Will I live to see the day that I win against you, Farkas?” Lucian, Farkas’ friend asked, brushing off his own sword. “A bold claim that such a day even exists.” Farkas teased, nudging his friend.

“That is all for day!” Fenrik called to his students, clasping his hands and gesturing to the barracks in the distance. “Return to your duties.” There was a chorus of ‘yes sir’ amongst the knights who all began to scatter to their specific roles. Waving goodbye to Lucian, Farkas wandered over to his father, who had his hands behind his back. “Excellent work today, son.” Glancing to the balcony, the older man noticed Athea studying, “Clean your weapon and return to the princess.”

“Yes, father.” Farkas nodded, following the order immediately, knowing she would be finished with her studies soon. Not that anyone had to ask him to go see Athea. He’d been caring for the girl in some way since he was four years old, then only as a companion and friend, but now both of those things alongside being her protection. And he would never change it for the world. Having polished his weapon, he sheathed his sword in the holster on his hip, removing his battle armour and placing it inside the specially designated storage for those who served the royal family personally. Something his family had used for generations. Now wearing his normal clothes, he checked his sword was safely at his side, before heading up the spiral staircase at the side so he could find the princess.

Knocking at the door of her study, he waited for her permission. “Your highness, it is I.” He called, though she would already know.

[farkasfenrikson]

‘ oh, please take me to one of those taverns the guards frequent! they look so quaint, farkas! ’

This is not where Farkas had anticipated spending his evening if you had asked him earlier that day. Did he anticipate being with the princess? Yes, every day he spent with royal woman. But in the heart of the capital city? In a tavern? This was most unexpected. Once the pair had managed to sneak outside the palace walls, like they occasionally did if all could be timed correctly, she had insisted that this was where she wanted to go. She thought they were…quaint, as she had described it, though many in the city were anything but. They were seedy and full of shady citizens. But she was curious as to why so many loved such institutions, and as such, he had chosen to take to her to one of the more popular ones, if not the most popular of all. One that many werewolves frequented, as it laid on the edge of the city, where many wolves lived.

Taking her inside, Athea posed as an ordinary citizen. Without her beautiful jewels and dresses, she could pass as a normal fae, able to converse and move freely as she chose. And that was the greatest gift Farkas had ever given her: freedom. Holding the door open for her, he watched her walk inside, the princess’ face lighting up at the sight. Funny, taverns were such mundane places, but her purple eyes danced around with excitement. The building glowed with the light of the fireplace and torchlight, as both men and women, mostly werewolves, gathered around tables and stools in deep discussion, drinking the city’s finest mead. In the corner, a man strummed away peacefully on his lute, until he took notice of the solider.

Loklan was a local bard, well known and beloved for his constant ability to always find a new tale to tell when it seemed the world had run out. He was a dear friend of Farkas’ mother, Tala, so had watched the young soldier grow up. Smiling, he wandered over to the pair to greet. “Farkas, my boy! Good to see you, it’s been some time.” Turning to Athea, his smile grew, “And my, what a beautiful, young lady you have graced us with this evening. Welcome.” The man spoke softly, bowing his head gently towards Athea in greeting. Oblivious of her true identity, he simply treated her as another passerby, but perhaps that’s what the princess needed. To live a normal day.

“We don’t receive many faeries in our part of town, my lady. Say, would you care for a melody? You’ve come to the tavern most famous for them, after all.” Hearing her say yes! in excitement, the man smiled, before looking looking at the two younger beings. “Perhaps… a song about Fenrir? Something to indulge your faerie ears into the world of the wolves?” Upon hearing that she didn’t know who Fenrir was, his eyes widened a little in surprise. “You’ve never heard of Fenrir? I’m surprised your friend here has never told you. I say, you must hear this, it’s a fascinating little tale.”

“Centuries ago, during the First Civil War, there was great warrior who lived in the high mountains with his clan. His name was Fenrir. When the war began, his land was threatened by the soliders from the Moors who had ravaged many of the other towns and villages nearby. Worried that his family and clan were next, one evening under a full moon, he prayed to the powers beyond, unsure of who would answer, but asked for protection and support in his time of need. Who answered? The moon herself!”

“She blessed Fenrir with the power to turn into a great beast, bigger and stronger than any of the wolves we see today. In return, she asked that he used his gift for good, protecting the nature around him that without her, we would not have. And as your friend here should know, that promise continues for all wolves today. Fenrir went on to be a great hero, saving his tribe from the danger and rising the ranks to serve the first royal family himself. He had many children of his own, who all carried the gift of the wolf — all wolves today are said to be a descendant of Fenrir, after all — and he passed peacefully, buried in his home within the mountains.”

Farkas had heard this story a million times, yet it never grew old. Fenrir was the person he looked up more than anything (beside his father), the hero he aspired to be. Smiling, Loklan nodded, “And perhaps, the most intriguing part of this story is that they say Fenrir’s spirit still walks among us.” He saw the way the young wolf and young fae’s eyes widened. “They say that in times of need for our people, Fenrir’s soul will rise again in the form of another hero, blessed with the same great form he has, and challenge the darkness that may threaten us all. And perhaps he already does! Perhaps he walks among us today,” The man glanced towards Farkas, still smiling, but with a glint of something mysterious in them. Like he knew something no one else did. “We simply don’t know.”

Farkas turned to Athea whose face was full of intrigue, hooked from the story from start to finish. “I shall let you indulge in your evening, friends.” Loklan smiled, nodding and picking his lute back up, returning to the back wall of the tavern. “Interesting, isn’t it?” Farkas commented, allowing her to ramble on and on about how interesting the tale was, how Fenrir reminded her of her personal guard himself. He loved it when she did this, he could listen to her talk for hours about all the things she loved. They were polar opposites, him the calming presence and her the joyous light. “Why, thank you, that means a lot.” He spoke earnestly; being compared to a hero like that was an honour.

Moving to the innkeeper, Farkas found himself ordering two meads, one for himself, and one for the princess, who had insisted on trying such an interesting concoction, as she had put it. He knew she would hate it but bought it for her anyway. Taking her hand, he gently pulled her towards two stools in the corner where they could have some privacy, helping her sit down before he moved beside her. “Look,” He nodded, gesturing towards Loklan who was tuning his lute, “He’s about to begin.”

The tavern quietened a little, eyes on the bard who cleared his throat and stepped forward, “Thank you — this melody is titled ‘Fenrir the Great’, one of the first songs I ever composed…”

There once was a hero our books called Fenrir,

His posture was tall and his friends held him dear,

When troubles and bloodshed did threaten his home,

He sought a great power from the mothering stone!

The mother herself, she blessed him with a strength,

A wolf he became, sharp and of great length,

The beast of the mountains, that was his new name,

For any who challenged him failed in shame.

The beast and the queen, they did become friends,

And Fenrir himself, he met noble ends,

Buried in the high mountains, his body does spend,

Forever a hero, his name has been penned,

Many years have gone by, and our hero still sleeps,

His children today, they do mourn and they weep,

But don’t be mistaken, his soul still doth prowl,

For Fenrir lives on, in another wolf’s howl!

The tavern clapped loudly, enjoying the song they had heard a thousand times over. It never seemed to get old, but no one applauded as loudly as Athea herself, the girl laughing in delight as she spoke of how marvellous it was, how marvellous the tavern was, how marvellous the… mead was? Oh. No. She absolutely hated that, her face contorting as if she had sucked a sour lemon, struggling to swallow the small sip she had taken. And all Farkas did was chuckle, leaning towards her beaming expression on his face, “You can only take a princess so far. Remind me to sneak out some palace wine for you next time, your highness.”

[farkasfenrikson]

—a princess and her knight

“do you believe that i will ever be able to escape these walls, Kas?” the young princess asked as she walked several steps ahead of her guard, arms stretched the side as her delicate blue dress moved through the light breeze with ease with every step she took. “do you believe that when everything is over, we can take a little journey to places where you have been? and show me all that you’ve talked to me about? i grow tired of circling these gardens for hours and hours hoping for something new but being only disappointed every time. as vast as they are and you would believe that something would occur but alas! Not a single moment is new.” She stopped herself under a hedge archway, leaning her back against the greenery as she looked up towards the blue skies above them. It allowed her knight to catch up with her, head turning to one side and the other to ensure that they were in complete solitude as he moved to stand in front of her, a hand slipping through her dark hair as a gentle smile pulled on his lips. “I grow offended by your statement, Princess. As we have snuck into these gardens many times and made plenty of memorable instances.” Turning her head away from the sky, she looked up at Farkas with a bright smile, arms lifting and slipping around his neck as she gently pulled him towards her. “When will you begin to call me Athea, my love? I absolutely adore when you say my name and yet you deprive me of the luxury.” With that, the young knight leaned forward, forehead pressing against hers as his hand moved to rest against her jaw gingerly. “Whatever you wish… Athea. And to answer your question from earlier; One day. One day I will take you everywhere and anywhere you wish to go. And you will tire in different ways, Athea. I will make sure of it.”

[farkasfenrikson]

“I… feel like I know this place. It’s like.. home. Do you feel it too?”