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Fantasy Draconic Disagreements

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Dahlia was frozen in place when she saw the broadsword hilt grasped in his hand, even going so far as to draw it. While Thane was indeed terrifying when he looked like he would cut her down, the glistening drool on the corner of his mouth lessened the fear by a fraction. She let out a sigh when he sheathed the sword and wondered if he was always going to react so violently to things. If she had been daring and hadn't been startled by him, she would have poked at his neck and taunted him for falling asleep. That was probably a death wish though for anyone who disturbed this man when he slept.

When he complimented her playing she gave him a confused look, fully expecting he would have been upset. She also didn't expect him to share any personal information about himself; that his mother played for her family to calm them down. When he brought up that his estate was as much as hers and it was his she shook her head to disagree. "I'm just a guest with a use, she countered with a small shrug."

She was curious about the handmaiden he had selected. "Ilia?," she repeated. She was eager to meet her, it would be interesting to be around another woman who wasn't a familial relation. Dahlia's stomach growled noisily and Dahlia looked at the wall in embarrassment. She wasn't about to admit she skipped lunch and hadn't finished her breakfast. Thane would probably lecture her and mock her.

"W-Well, since you're not going to cut me down I'll just.. go," she said awkwardly, moving to leave the room. He had no reason to stop her so she could try and find the kitchen and swipe a snack. Mentally she was glad she didn't go into his study. However she had gone through his nightstand and if she revealed that she knew about the book now he was going to be livid.
 
Fable Fable

Thane clicked his tongue in irritation at her insistence that she was merely a guest in his estate. “I have no intention of coddling you into a better attitude, but I suggest you rethink that stance. We are mates,” he tapped at the mark on his neck, still angrily red and bruised. “Perhaps that holds a different meaning to you, but so far as it concerns me that means you have a right to both my protection and possessions—if nothing else.” That alone was plenty… the protection of a Warlord was no small thing. He didn’t expect her to appreciate it, not yet at least, but he had an inkling that she would be glad of it someday.

It seemed that the female meant to shift the discussion away from anything important or serious, and Thane sighed noisily, preparing to tell her about the maid when the audible growl of her stomach reached him—even from across the room. The Warlord frowned at her. Had the fool forgotten to eat? By her reddened face and the way she looked away from him, it was clear that she was embarrassed. Females.

“No,” he said to her flatly when she said she would be going. “Part of the agreement we made was that you would take meals with me and I have not yet eaten dinner. You can retire to your room after you’ve fulfilled that obligation. Come along,” he didn’t bother looking at her, not sure whether he did or did not want to see gratitude there. He also didn’t want to closely examine why he was even doing this, showing her this little kindness. In truth he didn’t have much of an appetite after such an exhausting day, but he wasn’t about to let his mate go hungry because she was being foolish.

Not slowing his stride to accommodate her shorter legs, Thane marched them to the kitchen where Greta was still puttering away. “Greta, would you make us something to eat?”

The cook glanced towards the doorway where he had stopped and grinned at him. “Workin’ up an appetite, are ya?” she shot him an impish wink.

“Oh yes, that’s exactly what we’re doing,” he replied dryly.

Greta cackled and began clattering about, pulling out some bowls and soup spoons as she scuttled to a big pot on the stove. “Lucky fer the two o’ ya, I just finished makin’ something for that new ‘andmaid to eat, so I’ve got some stew for ya,” she took a massive ladle and scooped two generous portions of stew into the bowls, sticking one spoon into each of them. “Now off ya go, enjoy yerselves.” She shoved the bowls into Thane’s hands and turned whistling back to what she’d been doing before.

The Warlord turned to shoot Dahlia a look, “I suppose we can eat back in our rooms.”
 
ashwynne ashwynne
( Firewind Firewind Hello lurker >D We see you. )

Dahlia crossed her arms over her chest, she didn't expect any sort of coddling from him. However that didn't change her feelings on her presence here. She wanted to scoff when he said the word protection but she managed to keep herself from expressing her thoughts. She sighed, trying to release the pent up tension in her body at their interaction. It was useless being angry at him and only made herself upset, and getting upset over him being unable to understand was foolish. That was his problem, not hers.

When he said no to her trying to retreat she flinched a bit at his tone. She wasn't going to argue about not eating with him a she had agreed to spend adequate time with him and to leave the impression to others that they were doing what mated couples did. Besides, it's not like she wanted to skip lunch, it just slipped her mind until it became too late and it wasn't like she was starving so skipped a meal wasn't going to kill her. Hopefully Ilia wasn't as directionally challenged when in a new place.

She silently followed behind Thane, just wanting to stay out of his way. When she picked up the scent of food her salivated a bit. Dahlia had figured she could spend some time constructing a list of pros and cons to living here and being Thane's mate. Obviously there were currently more cons, but the food was good and there was a piano she could play so she couldn't say there weren't any positives.

Greta's comment about working up an appetite flustered her but thankfully Thane replied. She hadn't expected the elderly woman to be so cavalier with Thane, so casual. She needed to make Greta a friend if she could deal with the imposing Thane. Not to mention the perks of snacks and maybe even getting to cook things herself. She doubted the woman would let her cook something for Thane if she figured he wouldn't like it or it was terrible quality. So as much as that was a revenge fantasy for Dahlia she'd simply have to let go of that idea.

Dahlai followed him back to the bedroom scanning her surroundings as she began to sort of the various halls and where they led. A week and she'd be decently familiar with everything enough to not get lost as long as she didn't find any secret passages. A thought crossed her mind as she gazed at paintings in passing. Shouldn't he have portraits of his family somewhere? Dahlia was curious not just about his family but about him as well. What did the young Thane look like? He couldn't have always been so cold even as a child right?

As they entered Thane's bedroom and he set down the food on the same table they had eaten this morning, she politely sat down where she had before. "This might sound odd, but if we're going to eat together, perhaps you should treat meals as more of a social occasion rather than... eat ravenously?"

Meals at home were always filled with chatter. It was the only time in the day where the family managed to get together at the same time, so it was when everyone could share things that happened, joke, and just relax. "I-If you don't find that agreeable, fine. I'm not going to push the matter." Dahlia had no idea what to talk about with him anyway. His family was a sensitive subject. Like hell she was going to bring up the book in his nightstand right now. Then it hit her, plants!

"About the pot and soil," she began, "could I leave it in here?" She meant his room since it had better lighting. The particular plant she wanted to grow could be difficult and having it germinate outside was risky. "I just need about twenty or so days for the seed to germinate and then I can move it," she explained. "It needs consistent moist soil and full sun. It'd be easier to observe it in here than a random room."

She paused for a fraction of a second before she remember his point to constantly remind her she had a right to his estate as his mate. "I just don't want to invade your space." She wouldn't have liked it if he went into her room and put stuff in it randomly.
 
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Fable Fable

For a long moment, Thane stared down at the bowls heaped with stew. Her suggestion echoed in his mind. Ravenously. Was that how one should describe his method of eating? Greta had called it ‘beastly,’ his mother had called it ‘disgusting,’ and his father had only ever laughed.

“Hmm,” in spite of himself a small smile tugged the corners of his lips up, “I believe you are calling me uncivilized and bad dinner company,” he seated himself in the chair opposite her. “I am not much used to sharing meals, you’ll have to forgive my manners,” but as he picked up the bowl, the Warlord silently resolved to not inhale his meal—or at least try not to.

Limiting himself to a measured spoonful at a time, Thane looked up at her with vague surprise as she made a request of him. It was a form of progress, at least. If Dahlia could summon the nerve to ask him for something, perhaps she would learn to stop tiptoeing in general. A healthy fear was fine, but her skittishness was something he knew he would not have patience for long-term. It was already grating on his nerves and they had been mates for less than a full day.

“Keep it here forever, if you wish,” Thane said mildly, spooning another scoop of stew into his mouth. “I have a fondness for plants, if you couldn’t tell, adding another is no hardship.” He was silent for another minute of silence, chewing over both the stew and her amendment about not invading his space.

“Provided you don’t throw things away without my permission, or add anything dangerous without informing me, you are free to do whatever you wish within the castle without asking me,” he glanced at her now over the rim of the bowl, “Save for touching my personal things—by which I mean the things kept in my desk or otherwise locked away. Everything else is fair game.” Thane did not think he could make it any more clear for her.

“Now,” he said, leaning back in his seat and pausing from eating the stew, “You seem to have an interest in gardening, has it always appealed to you?” Small talk was not his strong suit, but if she wanted a more normal meal experience, he was willing to be obliging. Besides, he knew nothing about her and that was undesirable for myriad reasons. If she would mother his children, he needed to know her.
 

"You said it, not me," Dahlia smirked when Thane stated he believed she was calling him uncivilized and bad dinner company. He wasn't exactly uncivilized; rude, cold, blunt, and seemingly a bit short tempered. Bad dinner company he was indeed though with the way he ate. How he managed to not make a mess like a child learning to use utensils was a curious skill. This time though he was being mindful and trying to take his time to eat rather than inhaling his food so quickly there could be a philosophical question brought about the food's very existence.

"It wouldn't flourish well inside. It's a vine and the flowers have a strong perfume which you might not enjoy to have your room flooded with. It can also get out of hand if left alone for too long." She took a small spoonful of her own stew. Yes, the food here was surely a positive. Greta the cook was now doomed to teach Dahlia how to cook good food. Now it wasn't that Dahlia couldn't cook food or that it was awful, but it wasn't anything amazing really. Not to mention she could only actually cook a few things.

"I won't mess with your things if I can help it, let alone throw anything out," she said after eating a few more bites. "As far as my interest in gardening I guess you don't know much about my family. The maternal side has owned territory which has been used to grow plants for generations. Mostly it's flowers and herbs. A small fraction of the flowers go to the flower shop we own and a larger amount goes into the production of perfumes. The herbs we grow also range from medicinal, poisonous, or spices for culinary uses. I pretty much played in dirt from the time I could walk up until my mother started the process of grooming me to be a proper lady fit for mateship."

Dahlia paused for a moment then furrowed her brows as she wondered if he even realized she was named after a flower. She didn't ask him such a question though since with how he had an interest in plants he probably knew what a dahlia was.

"Obviously her training didn't go very well," she tried to joke though mostly it was true.

"Why are you interested in gardening? It's not exactly a hobby one would expect from one in your position."
 
Fable Fable

“Ah, I see,” he said as she described the plant she intended to grow. “Why exactly are you so intent on growing this particular plant, if it is such a handful?” Surely there were other options that would require less care, ones that she could grow here in these rooms without making the space unbearable with cloying perfumes or ambitious vines that sought to overpower everything else in their path. It sounded a little like she was trying to grow a Warlord plant—domineering, high maintenance, and overbearing. The thought made him snort into his stew.

Cheered by his own sense of humour, Thane listened with silent interest as she elaborated on her childhood a little. A mate well versed in the benefits of various plants was a boon—particularly where it pertained to the medicinal and poisonous ones. Perhaps, utilizing her knowledge, he could create weapons more effective against humans… ones where a single scratch could kill. Poultices and the like were also always welcome on the battlefield, so the Warlord tucked away a few ideas to pursue with her at a later date. At present the female could hardly seem to sit in his presence without looking ready to bolt; a discussion of how to weaponize her knowledge would not be prudent.

“That explains a great deal,” he said instead, tipping his head towards her. “Both in your parents’ choice of name for you and in your interest in gardening.” Flowers had never appealed to him overmuch, Thane’s preference tending towards plants with hearty constitutions and bold leaves that stood proudly throughout the year. Flowers were too transient for his taste; here today and gone tomorrow. Perennials were friends that would live their lives with you, annuals never lingered. And, yet, he knew that dahlias were one of the few striking flowers that were perennials. He was not particularly superstitious when it came to names reflecting the ones they were given to, but it did make for an interesting parallel… would Dahlia, like her namesake, remain a lovely bloom that never truly left his side? Or would she be more akin to the annuals; waiting only for an opportunity to disappear? He did not know.

“Fortunately for you, I have precious little interest in a ‘proper lady,’ that is not something I reduce your value to,” not that ‘breeding potential’ was any better of a metric, but at least it meant he didn’t expect her to flounce around with false dignity. “Whether her training was adequate or not is irrelevant,” he idly looked her over, approval glinting briefly in his eyes, “And you may find yourself better equipped to be a Warlord’s mate than you may think—time will tell.” It was meant to be comforting, though in truth he might have done more good by simply chuckling at her joke.

“As far as I go,” Thane paused, frowning, for a moment when he realized that all his stew was gone. He had attempted to eat at a socially acceptable pace, but it seemed he had failed…though not by so wide a margin as with breakfast. “As far as I go,” he tried again, clearing his throat, “My mother had a fondness for gardening and plants. I suppose it rubbed off on me,” he looked away from her to take in the lush vegetation that ornamented his chambers, “It feels a little like she’s still with me with them here, not quite as lonely.” It dawned on him that he was likely oversharing, but it mattered little. He didn’t expect a revelation of his affection for his mother to change Dahlia’s perception of him. What son didn’t love his mother?
 

"Maybe you'll understand once you see what it is exactly," she answered his question somewhat evasively. "I'm not sure you'd care for them even after they've successfully bloomed.
I just enjoy the fleeting reward of this particular flower you could say. Once it's planted though it's a stubborn. You could say I'm leaving a legacy, something that will outlast me." she ended with a shrug without interest in explaining any further.

"My grandmother actually named me," she corrected him. "My mother wanted to name me Gertrude and my grandmother intervened before I was cursed with an unflattering name. My brothers all have names that start with G; Gideon, Gareth, and Gabe. Of all the possible girl names that started with that letter she went and chose that one."

She looked at him for a moment when he said he had little interest in a proper lady. "Oh? A proper lady wouldn't have made the request I did. She'd have happily and without question done what was expected of her. I'm not sure why you think I'm a better fit beyond maybe being less vapid?"

Dahlia listened as Thane began to speak on his personal interest in plants. He seemed a bit surprised at his bowl for a moment before going back to talking. So, it was his mother that had the interest then. Not surprising really since it seemed most ladies of higher rank had some sort of hand in the subject, those most of it was just flower arrangement rather than growing. Gardening required one to get their hands dirty and you'd not see a prim and proper lady ever commit that sin.

"You mother sounds like she is a lovely lady," she commented. He didn't talk about his mother with a bitterness, there was a flicker of respect and affection. "What was her favorite flower? Or plant? If you don't want to tell me her's, then what is your favorite?"

Dahlia finished her stew then, leaving the spoon to rest inside of the bowl. She was interested in learning more about him, now that he wasn't being intimidating currently. For the first time since they met she was actually really looking at him fully, curiously. He was attractive. She had expected him to be covered in horrible scars from battle to the point of disfigurement when she had been told she was going to be his mate. There were probably scars she hadn't seen, she'd be more shocked if he had none.

He didn't try to stuff his large build into tight fitting clothes that nobility wore and she wondered if it was because he would look silly in them or stuff like that didn't fit his physique. His attire suited him well enough, though if he ever wore armor he was was probably terrifying. As much as he was attractive he still could set her on edge with a tone or even an expression. It was things of that nature that made it clear to her he'd never really feel anything for her and so she would remind herself of that fact should she ever be tempted by any sort of hope that he would. She was going to be realistic about this.
 
Fable Fable

“Perhaps I will,” he allowed, his interest piqued by her evasiveness. Thane had not particularly cared about whatever plant she chose to cultivate before, but now he found himself almost eager to see it. “Plants are not the only way to leave legacies though, not even the main one,” he said, mind drifting onto thoughts of children and bloodlines, “But I understand what you mean.” He had a few dracaena marginata—dragon trees—and anthuriums that he had raised from seedlings as a child. They held prominent locations in both his rooms and his heart, though to an outsider their resting places would not seem significant amongst the plethora of other foliage.

At the clarification of the origins of her name, for a moment, Thane only stared at her. But then a bubble of laughter barked its way out. “I suppose we all owe your grandmother some thanks, you’re far too attractive to be saddled with such an ugly name,” he chuckled again at the mere thought of it, shaking his head slowly in mirth.

“And you’re correct. A proper lady would be ballooned with my child by six months, rather than avoiding the mating bed entirely until then,” he clasped his hands over his stomach, studying her carefully, “But children take after both their parents—if one half is weak, the children will be weak also. It takes courage to negotiate with a Warlord, it is something I can respect, and if I have my choice between a brainless female that happily spreads her legs and a female with poor manners but admirable courage I will choose the latter every time,” he shrugged a broad shoulder. It was common sense, as far as he was concerned.

He had been very fortunate in Dahlia. She was not, perhaps, exactly what he would have wished for in a mate if he had full choice, but she hit the mark near enough to his preferences that Thane had precious little to complain about—beyond her skittishness and general attitude towards the mateship, at any rate.

“My mother was lovely,” he corrected, his voice growing subdued. But after a few moments of silence he abruptly stood, pacing towards a bright corner of the room where a magnificent anthurium sat upon a white pedestal. Carefully, he picked it up by the pot and returned to his seat, setting it down on the table between them, pushing the empty soup bowls to the side. The spathes added delicate splashes of soft pink to the plant’s richly green leaves. “This, an anthurium, was my mother’s favourite—mine as well, incidentally,” he absently brushed a finger over one of the leaves. “I grew this one from a seedling with her help, as a child.” A slight smile flitted across his lips, there and gone so fast it might not have even existed in the first place.

“Is this mystery plant you’re intending to grow your favourite?” It was a bit of an odd conversation to have, he realized belatedly. Most mates did not likely spend their time questioning each other on preferences for plants. Still, it seemed to be holding Dahlia’s interest and some of the tension had gone out of her with this change of conversation. Thane didn’t expect it to last, but a corresponding tension was easing from him as well.
 

She didn't respond to his comment about other ways of leaving a legacy. Dahlia figured he was thinking about offspring since that was her entire purpose for him. She just wanted something that should their race cease to be, hopefully to continue to exist in some manner. Even if it was something as insignificant as a flower and even long after she passed no one knew she had put it there. It was a bit silly perhaps.

When Thane laughed her eyes widened. She was tempted to make a joke telling him to be careful after his laugh, that he might grow a heart. That would be a cutting joke though poking at what she felt was a flaw in his character. Not to mention he might be offended and then their conversation would likely end on a sour note. She'd at least like to amicable between them since they were going to be stuck with each other for a long time.

"Oh I wouldn't call a proper lady weak," she said thoughtfully. "Stuffed in corsets they've got some pretty strong pain tolerance at least. I wear one for a few hours and I was ready to be mercifully put out of my misery. I also wouldn't exactly call what I did courageous and also..." she paused and smiled as she tried not to laugh.

"N-Nothing, I'm not going to tell you because I'm scared you'll be upset if I do." There was no way so soon after their deal she was going to tell him she had expected him to argue back a shorter time for her request. She would have been willing - very reluctant and unhappy still - to go as short as three months. She had started with a longer time frame full expecting him to chip away at the time he would agree to spare her before consummating their mateship.

Dahlia didn't say she meant to use the present tense. If his was still thinking of his mother then she was still present in a way and therefore was still lovely even if she was no longer living. She curiously studied the flower but politely didn't touch such an important plant. She'd never seen one in person, only in one of the many books she had read which had black and white illustrations to depict the plants to help serve as an identification guide.

She looked up at him when he asked her if what she was planting was her favorite flower and she smirked at him and said, "No." She leaned back slightly in the chair and her smile grew slightly, "You're going to have to guess, make a game of it. You can ask for one hint once a month. I'll even given you an infinite number of guesses and to make it interesting we can even talk a reward for guessing properly excluding revoking the agreement on the six months. I'll even give you a free hint right now. It's not my namesake."
 
Fable Fable

“I don’t consider tolerance for discomfort to be indicative of strength,” he said simply, “By strength I refer to character—mental fortitude especially. Any female who goes along willingly with irrational conventions and doesn’t complain or question them is lacking in something, I think,” he studied Dahlia for another moment. “Though I suppose I can’t say I know you well enough to know whether you do possess that form of fortitude or not, perhaps eventually if you ever properly speak your mind around me I’ll be better able to judge.”

Dahlia seemed to think twice about whatever she had been about to say in relation to her negotiation with him, swallowing it in a sudden bright grin that lit her face. It was the first time he had seen her smile naturally and Thane had to admit that it was a lovely sight. It had a way of simultaneously softening and lighting her up that was incredibly appealing. Even if it was in response to some hidden thought she didn’t wish to share with him. “I can’t think of anything that would upset me so badly that you’d need to be afraid to tell me.” He almost added that she had nothing to fear from him in general but stopped himself.

In truth, he couldn’t harm her, even if he wanted to. Thane would never have a shot at another mate if something happened to Dahlia, and her value to him diminished greatly the worse of a condition she was in. It granted her a strange sort of immunity, a power over him, that Thane did not want to admit. So, he stayed silent. She would likely come around to that understanding on her own, but for the time being he didn’t need to encourage any thoughts of rebellion that might occur to her.

He had asked her the question about the plant as an attempt to carry on a civil conversation, but the wicked smirk she shot his way that only grew wider with her suggestion of a game was not what he had expected. For a long moment, Thane could only stare at her. A game sounded tedious to him. Worse, there were millions of plants in the world… to guess correctly could indeed take an infinite number of guesses. They could be old and grey, wrinkled shells of their current selves, and he might still never guess it. And yet, in spite the poor odds, Thane felt a flicker of his competitive spirit rise at this suggestion of hers. Besides, there was something irritatingly endearing in how animated she had become over such a foolish waste of time, and for this once the Warlord didn't see any harm in indulging her.

“Very well,” he said slowly, crossing his arms, “I guess an orchid, then.” For her to be this confident he imagined it would be something unusual, but there was never any harm in opting to guess a plant that was popular among many females. “A prize should be discussed, but I leave that for you to decide.” A yawn caught him unawares and he was late in covering his mouth, glancing with sudden bleariness towards the bed.

“As an aside… do tell me if I ever disrupt your sleep. I’ve never quite caught the knack for falling asleep and am often awake into the wee hours of the morning. I am not loud as a general rule, but I am also used to being alone so there may be things I do that cause you irritation that I would not think of.” Thane preferred to avoid labelling it as insomnia, even if it was, but having one of them consistently weary was plenty. He didn’t trust Dahlia to tell him if he did anything problematic of her own volition, so making it a request seemed the best route to get her to be honest.
 

Dahlia wasn't offended as Thane voiced that he didn't actually know her well enough to determine if she possesses the mental fortitude he had in mind. She didn't care if they lived up to any expectation he had set for her. That was his own problem should she not meet them. She hadn't held any expectations of him except mostly from what she had heard as rumors and thus far they seemed to be correct, though it was clear he had a few soft spots here and there.

She was skeptical that there wasn't something that would upset him so badly she should be afraid of him. Not that she would ever do such a thing, but there were those who went out of their mateship for companionship. Such a scandal was very destructive to everyone involved no matter the guilty party. The betrayed mate would be shamed by his mate's adultery. The adulterer would become a pariah. And if the person outside of the mateship who was involved was discovered, the disrespected mate could kill them without any repercussions.

So Dahlia knew for sure that was at least one thing that would enrage Thane most likely. As much as she doubted he'd harm her because of her specific purpose he wished to use her for, that didn't mean she wanted to live a life filled with animosity between them.

When he decided to play her little guessing game she figured if the current mood stayed the same then it would be unlikely they'd fall into hating each other. When he guessed her favorite flower was an orchid she smiled, paused and then opened her mouth slowly just to say, "No. Are you sure you want to let me choose the prize? I don't know anything about you really so I could probably choose something you abhor which wouldn't be a very good reward for winning."

So tilted her head slightly as he yawned, then mentioned how he was often up late and to tell him if he was disturbing her sleep. "Can't be worse than my mother banging pots and pans in the morning when making breakfast," she tried to joke though it was true. There was no sleeping in when her mother purposefully made a racket in the morning. She remembered his comment about his mother playing piano to help calm her family down. Dahlia wasn't still very unsure around Thane and so refrained from offering to play something for him.

"But fine, if you really disturb my sleep I'll be sure to tell you," she conceded. She got up from the seat and stretched in an unrefined manner, raising her arms above her head and closing her eyes as she enjoyed the feeling of releasing the muscular tension. "I'm going to go take a bath," she announced before going to her room, grabbing her chemise as well as her shampoo and soaps. Thane seemed too tired to take a bath himself so maybe this time she could float around without concern.

She went to the side she had used last time, quickly stripping down and kicking the dress and shoes off to the side. There was already a towel on the bench and Dahlia set her chemise down next to it before stepping down into the bath, setting her other items on the side and within reach. The bath wasn't actually super deep, only high enough to cover up to near her neck when seated, but it was enough to float without touching the bottom which is exactly what she did, closing her eyes and letting her hair soak in the water that was probably prepared nightly.

Dahlia stayed like this for only a few minutes before she went to scrub herself down from head to toe and then rinsing herself off. She was still fairly tired and the bath was actually exacerbating that feeling. She dried herself off quickly and tried to get as much moisture out of her hair as possible. After throwing on the chemise she returned, going through Thane's room and bidding him a polite goodnight before retiring to her own room, though she wasn't going to sleep just yet.

She turned up the oil lamp that had been lit in the evening by a servant to brighten the room before she plucked a book from the shelf to read. It wasn't one of the romance novels, but a book on floriography. She was fairly decent with the topic, but there was still much for her to learn. She flipped through the pages until she found the flower she was looking for; anthurium. Based on the color it had a few meanings, the pink anthurium meant compassion, femininity, and motherly love. It fit the image she had in her mind of Thane's more than she had developed thus far. Maybe one day she'd manage to ask him if there was a portrait of her.

She spent another thirty minutes flipping through the book and going to a very familiar page that held the information of what her favorite flower's meaning was. It honestly wasn't the reason she liked the flower. It didn't have a strong perfume and was just pretty and for her held a soothing presence. She'd avoid planting them since she didn't want to give away what it was. Tomorrow she'd see if he wanted his first hint of the month since she had offered him a free one to start the game.

Dahlia put the book away and doused the lamp, wiggling under the bed covers and closing her eyes hoping for a better night's sleep.
 
Fable Fable

“Frankly, it’ll be reward enough when I guess correctly,” Thane said with a shrug, “So whatever prize you choose will be fine. Probably more impressive if you manage to pick something I truly hate.” That was the benefit of a competitive spirit—winning was its own reward. Of course, trying to envision something she might choose as a prize that he would despise was equally amusing. A jar of spiders? Lemon meringue pie? Some sort of ugly necklace made with bird feathers? Thane could not think of many things he hated enough to be truly put-out if she offered them as a prize.

The image of Dahlia’s mother banging pots and pans in the kitchen made the Warlord grin, it sounded like something Greta would have done when they were children. Of course, back then, Thane slept like the dead the instant his head hit the pillow. Jorgen, his eldest brother, once commented that they could drag him out and dump him in the ocean without him waking. He would drown and wake up in the afterlife rather than abandoning his sleep. It was no longer true, had not been for a long time, but the memory was a pleasant one.

“I think I can refrain from banging things together,” he said dryly, “And thank-you, one of us at least ought to be consistently well-rested.” His eyes followed her as she stood and stretched, a pretty image, even if it lacked the ladylike refinement expected in most social circles. Fortunately, for Dahlia, Thane really did prefer a lack of those kinds of pretenses so her natural mode of stretching held greater appeal anyways. Or perhaps that was not fortunate for her. Thane had a feeling the female would prefer if he had less physical interest in her, rather than more. It mattered little. Six months was a long time, long enough to cool any interest beyond what was necessary for the production of heirs.

“Very well, enjoy your bath,” he said politely following her announcement, watching her thoughtfully as she left to her room and then again towards the baths. He had debated whether he would take one himself, but he decided to leave it to her for tonight. The Warlord was tired and still many hours removed from being able to actually sleep.

Thane collected the empty dishes and brought them to the kitchen. Greta scolded him for doing servants work, but Thane waved a hand dismissively and muttered some excuse about not wanting them to be disturbed. The cook had no answer for that, not very well able to protest against her imagined belief that the pair of them were hard at work producing heirs. So, he escaped without further lecture and returned to their rooms.

Distracted, Thane stripped quickly into the silk pyjama pants that he slept in. It was only afterwards that he realized Dahlia could have exited the bath and seen him fully naked had the timing been unlucky. Not that Thane would have been bothered, shame was not something he subscribed to and he was quite proud of his body. All the same, that would likely have caused a setback with the female, so he was glad that this time it had not ended in disaster. He would have to try and remember to be more careful in the future. Though, really, how does one remind themselves to not be forgetful of something they forgot?

Sighing, the Warlord picked up one of the books Roarke had left to him and began to flip through the pages. Reclined comfortably in the armchair, his bare chest radiating heat, the Warlord soon lost himself in thoughts of strategy and tactics. He was slightly startled when Dahlia bid him a goodnight, but after a brief pause he regained his senses, cleared his throat, and nodded to her, “Goodnight.”

Eventually, the Warlord transitioned from the armchair to his bed. Sleep still felt elusive, but after quickly glancing at Dahlia’s door—no light coming from beneath it—he opened his nightstand and pulled out The Bonds of a Heart. As always, he felt a wave of melancholy when his fingers brushed the worn cover, but he flipped it open anyways and turned to one of the ear-marked pages that he was especially fond of. It was a silly book. A story of two lovers parted by differing circumstances during the bloom of their youth. They were reunited years later when their lives were vastly changed and yet found that their connection to one another remained as powerful as ever—despite them both having been mated to others. It culminated in the pair abandoning everything to escape to some distant land together… losing all wealth and prestige but gaining each other. Foolishness.

Weariness eventually stole over him and Thane tucked the book back where it belonged, pinched the flaming wick to douse the light, and settled himself into bed to sleep.

As they often were, Thane’s dreams were all nightmares and he woke with a loud snarl and his heart pounding. A soft groan followed this, the Warlord rubbing his face with his hands to chase the feelings of fear, grief and unease away. He flicked a glance towards Dahlia’s door again, hoping he had not woken her, before throwing himself out of bed.

He opened the door to the hallway a crack, and was relieved to see his manservant there, “Roarke.”

“M’lord,” the other male said, a quick glance telling him all he needed to know about the quality of his lord’s night. Not that Roarke would dare show any hint of pity, Thane hated that.

“Dahlia is still sleeping, but once you hear her moving about… send Ilia to her.”

“Of course, m’lord.” Roarke said agreeably with a tip of his head, leaning himself beside the door as Thane closed it again so that he could hear when his mistress rose to greet the day.

For his part, Thane went to the bath. It was not a normal habit of his to bathe in the morning, but the dreams sat like a sickening film against his skin and he wanted—no—needed to wash them off.
 
ashwynne ashwynne
(Hello lurkers, how you liking the RP? 😜 )

Dahlia was ripped from sleep from the loud snarl that came through the door from Thane's bedroom. She sat up and looked at her closed door and wondered what exactly had happened to result in such a startling sound. She knew she had said she would tell him if he disturbed her, but she figured that could wait for now. Maybe he was in a bad mood about something. He didn't say when to tell him, just to tell him.

She yawned widely and her eyes watered a bit as she stretched out on the bed. She heard some talking between Roarke and Thane which seemed casual enough, so it wasn't like someone had broken into his room suddenly. When she heard the other door open and close was when Dahlia got up to open the curtains blocking from the bed's thick canopy which blocked the sun's light. She dressed herself in a casual light blue tress that had shorter sleeves and a pair of sturdy ankle-high black shoes that had no heels. No one would be able to tell unless they gauged her height was slightly shorter or they looked directly at her shoes at the right time.

A few other quick things and she was basically ready for the day. She opened the door and greeted Roarke with a small wave. Roarke raised a brow at her when he noted she had already gotten ready. "Did you forget mistress, that you have a handmaiden now?"

"Oh! Right! I - uh - did... sorry," she said sheepishly. She had been so distracted trying to understand what the snarl was about she forgot that Ilia was here. Roarke excused himself to go fetch her so that he could tend to Thane which Dahlia nodded to quickly. As Roarke left she stared at him hard and wondered if she could pester him for information about Thane, but then he might tell Thane and he would get annoyed she wasn't asking him. Ugh.

Dahlia sat in the armchair Thane used the previous night while she waited. She had to make Ilia believe things were normal between herself and Thane, so casually using the furniture in the room would help, right? Soon enough Ilia arrived, knocking on the bedroom and entering. Dahlia curiously looked over the woman since she wasn't sure how Thane had managed to find someone so quickly. It was clear Ilia had been written off for her appearance at minimum.

Ilia was slightly anxious perhaps at Dahlia's reaction to her deformities. However, Dahlia just smiled at Ilia as she got up from the chair and walked over to her, grabbing both of her calloused hands, "I'm Dahlia, which you are free to call me when it's just us since I don't want you to get into trouble for doing so. I sort of already got ready because I forgot you were here."

The handmaiden was slightly stunned and before she could say something Dahlia was tugging her to her room. "So, while Tha- the master of the house and I are mated we do sleep separately. We only need to share a bed for one activity. He tends to stay up late so I have my own room where I won't have my sleep disturbed." She quickly lied, trying to explain the separation. Thankfully Ilia didn't openly question her further, the topic caused the handmaiden to blush a bit and nod in reaction.

"How good are you with hair?" she asked Ilia. Dahlia had left her hair down, but her plans today it would be easier to have it up and out of her face as much as possible.

"I-I couldn't rightly say. My first time in this sort of position," Ilia honestly replied.

"No matter, it doesn't have to be fancy. I just need help putting it up so it stays out of my wait," Dahlia commented as she sat at the vanity and pulled out a small container of hair pins. Ilia nodded and set to work. She braided Dahlia's hair starting at the front and across the side then once all the hair was braided she loosened them slightly and puffed the hair but gently tugging. It only took a few hair pins to pin the rolled braid at the nape of Dahlia's neck.

"Ah, you are good. You didn't have to use a crazy amount of hair pins styling it like this," Dahlia complimented. Ilia smiled happily, glad her work had managed to please her mistress since if she was unhappy she'd likely lose her position.

During this time Roarke had fetched breakfast at Greta's orders and two plates and beverages were awaiting Dahlia and Thane. "Ilia, please come assist me for a moment," Roarke asked and Ilia excused herself after Dahlia said she didn't need anything else for now. Dahlia was required to eat meals with Thane and it would be strange to have Ilia lingering around. She sat down at the table and wondered how long exactly Greta was going to do this for.

"You can ask for your monthly hint if you want to," she would greet Thane with when he joined her for breakfast followed by asking about the pot and soil she had requested earlier of him. She wanted to get started.
 
Fable Fable

The perfumed water worked its magic on both body and soul. Before too long the Warlord felt calm and steady, woken up enough that dreams no longer held sway over him. He finished scrubbing and left the water, toweling off and turning to his clothes. The pants he had selected for the day were perfectly fine and he tugged them on alongside his swordbelt, but the shirt sported a hole he had not noticed previously. It was a fairly common occurrence; with battle training it was inevitable that many clothes were ruined. He would have to give the shirt to Roarke to patch, adding it to the pile he tried to stick to wearing during training as opposed to ruining new ones. Occasionally, however, he forgot and so mistakes like this were able to happen.

Sighing, he grabbed the shirt and stalked out of the baths and back to his room, preoccupied with thoughts of the battle training he was missing. It had been decided that his ‘honeymooning’ would take precedence. Never mind the fact that the ‘honeymoon’ was being delayed six months and now he lacked an outlet for his frustrations and appetites. Grumbling, the Warlord tossed the shirt with more force than was necessary onto the bed. Of course, it was at this point that the rich aroma of sausage, eggs, bacon and cooked potatoes tickled his nose.

Thane’s stomach growled loudly in approval and he turned towards the table where the plates had been placed. Dahlia was already seated and as Thane approached her from behind, she said something about him asking for his monthly hint. “Ah, yes, I suppose I may as well,” he replied, in truth having forgotten that the game existed at all. He was only half paying attention, much more interested in the meal set before them that contained all his favourites. Greta was spoiling him.

The Warlord swung around the table to take a seat across from Dahlia, fingers twitching towards the plate. But no, manners. He had to remember manners. Blowing out a noisy sigh he leaned back, crossing his arms over his bare chest to keep them from grabbing at the food and looking Dahlia over. “You slept well, I trust?” small talk. He hated small talk. Even when it was prudent and useful as this question had been.

Today she was wearing a light blue dress with shorter sleeves, her hair pulled up into a braid that sat artfully against the nape of her neck. It was a pretty look, functional too he would wager. “Is that Ilia’s handiwork?” he asked, nodding towards her hair. “She’s an acceptable handmaiden?” it would be tedious if Dahlia utterly despised her, but Thane supposed for the sake of his own sanity and peace within the castle he could find a different female if this one displeased her.

Before waiting for an answer, he nodded to the set table. “By all means, feel free to begin eating,” he might have said it more for himself than for her, but that was hardly the point. “And… remind me if I forget my manners,” he added with a mutter, knowing with a meal like this it would be a great deal harder to regulate himself than it had been with eating stew using a spoon the previous evening.
 

Dahlia had looked up when Thane had returned to the room, but she wasn't expecting him to be shirtless! She blinked a few times as she took in his bare chest which had a large and long scar across it. This scar didn't ruin the appeal of his physique though. She quickly averted her eyes to look at one of the numerous plants in the room rather than at her attractive shirtless mate. She was not going to be swayed by physical attraction!

Her cheeks felt hot and she was angry at herself for showing she was flustered by his appearance. She steeled her thought by forceful will alone, reminding herself of all the times he had upset her and to remember that he only say her as a means to an end, to produce offspring. He probably didn't even care for friendly companionship. With that in mind she would entirely focus either away from him or only on his face and do her best to not look at any part of his body.

Dahlia cleared her throat and looked towards her plate - her safe non-attractive plate - and took a bite of the eggs. Didn't he ever have fruit for breakfast? This was much too heavy in protein for her tastes. "Well, enough," she finally replied after chewing. "You did wake me up with you make a loud, angry sound though. I won't ask you what caused it since you probably aren't inclined to tell me. As far as Ilia goes, she did help with my hair and is very suitable as a handmaiden."

She made a mental note to have Ilia go with her to the kitchen to talk to Greta about sending some fruit in the mornings, even if it was just for her consumption. She raised her eyes to observe his hands as he used the utensils to eat... well awkwardly was the only way she could describe it, but he was trying at least. "You still haven't asked for your hint," she reminded him before nibbling at some sausage. She was worried it was the spicy type which wasn't to her liking and not to mention crazy to have for breakfast. However Thane seemed the type who would eat such a thing this early in the day.

"Also, if you're too busy I can ask Roarke to help me with the pot and soil," she suggested. He probably didn't want to waste his time on such a thing with her if he could avoid it. Surely eating meals with him and then staying within his quarters at night was enough to leave the impression he wanted. She paused before taking another bite, "What exactly do you consider adequate time to leave the impression everything is going as expected between us?"
 
Fable Fable

The Warlord nodded approvingly when she said she had slept well enough. A quick glance at Dahlia showed her focusing intensely on her food, cheeks slightly reddened. That was a touch odd and he couldn’t guess the reason why. Perhaps she’d had inappropriate dreams, now that was an amusing thought. Any smile this might have brought to his face faded though when she made mention of his snarling waking her up. Thane cursed softly and jabbed his fork into an egg, aggressively biting into it with his brows hanging like stormclouds over his eyes. “Nightmares,” he muttered, feeling it was better to admit it than consistently frighten her in the mornings, “I’m displeased that it was loud enough to wake you, I apologize for it,” but he couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen again, much as he would have liked to. “If at all possible, you should try to ignore it if it happens again and go back to sleep.”

It was good to hear that Dahlia felt Ilia was suitable, it certainly would save him the hassle of having to find a replacement for her. The female had seemed a goodly sort, but Thane had no real experience with how women interacted with one another save in books, so the possibility of conflict had seemed plausible. “I’m glad that you’re satisfied with Ilia, hopefully she will make your life here more comfortable.”

He turned his attention to the sausage now, mildly spiced in a way that helped wake him up in the morning. “Mmhmm,” he swallowed a mouthful of food and cleared his throat, “I would like to request my hint for the month,” he turned it into a formal-sounding request, at odds with the lighthearted contest it was attached to.

It dawned on him that Dahlia was only picking at her food, but before he could open his mouth to question whether the food was not to her liking, she asked about a time period adequate to leave the right impression on others. Thane chuckled and arched an eyebrow, “Six months, was that not what we agreed upon?” Abandoning the fork, he plucked a piece of bacon up and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a moment before sighing. “If you’re asking when you can expect me to leave you largely to your own devices—save mealtimes and at night—then I believe a week will be adequate. As far as everyone is concerned, we are currently ‘honeymooning,’” he grimaced at both the expression and at the lie they were weaving by allowing that impression to linger, “However I have responsibilities to my officials and vassals that require me to conduct meetings and perform inspections of the males to ensure battle readiness. Those duties have been put on hold for the time being, but I would be ill at ease to leave them longer than a week. At that point you will be free of me for the bulk of the day,” undoubtedly she would be pleased at that bit of news—considering the fact that she clearly wanted as little to do with him as possible.

“As to your pot and soil,” he cast a grim glance at her, “The only thing I’m meant to be ‘busy’ with at this time is you and our bed,” he jerked a free thumb towards the object in question, noticing a dollop of egg yolk on the tip of his thumb and absently sticking it in his mouth to lick off. “After breakfast we can go speak with Arthur about it,” he paused for a beat, “As a warning, Arthur is rather…. eccentric. Harmless, but odd. He lacks any sort of manners or tact, which is why I’d prefer to be with you for this meeting. He sometimes manages to keep himself under better control when I am there.”
 

Dahlia stared at Thane's fork as he jabbed it into the egg and shoved it into his mouth, but not before informing her that it had been nightmares that prompted his snarl this morning. It seemed at odds with his character to be disturbed by nightmares. The might and ruthless Warlord Thane seemed like he wouldn't be bothered by much of anything. Annoyed, sure. Frustrated, yes. Angered? Clearly within the emotions he was capable of. Perhaps it wasn't fear of his nightmares but rather anger.

She simply nodded when he asked her to try and ignore it. Dahlia doubted she would be able to, it was a fairly startling noise that set her on edge that someone wrong was going on. "You know you can ask me a question to get an answer as a hint. It's more fun than just giving you information and it's guessing which it the point of a guessing game," she pouted slightly at his lack of interest. Oh well, she wasn't shocked at his disinterest. "So ask me a question when you are ready, but if the game is bothersome we can stop."

As Thane explained that for this week they were to be spending time under the guise of a honeymoon period she listened politely until he licked the food off his finger. "You know what a napkin is, correct? That piece of fabric next to the plate." She didn't said it in a harsh tone or even sarcastically. It was calm because she knew he was trying to be better when eating with her and lecturing him would only serve to cause possible discord between them.

"So for a week we're essentially going to have maintain frequent interactions then," she thought out loud. She focused on finishing the eggs, leaving the sausage untouched. However when she saw Thane's taste for it she offered hers since she wasn't going to eat them, explaining she wasn't a fan of spicy foods so early in the morning. She took in his grim expression as he said he was supposed to be busy with her in his bed and she sighed opened, unable to stop herself from reacting to his words.

Then she got a stupid joke in her head and smirked. Dahlia took off her shoes, went over to Thane's bed, stepped up onto it and then flopped down to sit for a brief moment before getting up and returning to the talk grinning. "There, now you can say I've officially been on your bed and it wouldn't be a lie," she laughed out as she sat back down to put her shoes back on. Thane probably wouldn't find such an act amusing, but it had been too dam funny to resist.

She finished the last bit of egg and a bite of potatoes, wiping her mouth and setting the napkin down on the table. "Well, I'm done eating. Can we go now then? I don't care if he's eccentric as long as he doesn't kill anything I plant." Dahlia figured this Author would be an interesting person to meet. He obviously knew about gardening if Thane kept him around even with an odd personality. She had wanted to make a joke about Thane wanting to be there when she met Author with a statement that Thane was probably worried she was going to run off with his gardener. That joke would have probably angered Thane and she had a goal to avoid his wrath as much as possible.

With her shoes laced once again she cleared her throat, "Y-You should put on a shirt." She had managed to avoid looking at his bare chest, but as she said this she glimpsed at him and quickly looked away at the plants once again. She wasn't going to let him fluster her and she worried if he found out she was indeed flustered by his shirtless state that he would make it a point to be so around her.
 
Fable Fable

The game itself was not bothersome. He might not have called it particularly stimulating either, nor was it something he would choose to play himself but having agreed to it the Warlord was now determined to win. “I fully intend to win this game, Dahlia,” he said seriously, “No stopping is allowed until then.”

Choosing the right question to maximize the usefulness of the hint was no small task. Thane had hoped she might give him a hint directly that would reveal more than she might have wanted it to, but alas, she was smarter than that. He would only be afforded one hint a month, so each one needed to count. Thane mulled it over for a few long moments and then nodded to himself. “Is it an annual?” No matter how she answered that would eliminate a good chunk of potential choices.

He blinked when she matter-of-factly pointed to the napkin, glancing down at his licked thumb and frowning… although some brave soul might have whispered that it was more like he was pouting. “But that would be a waste of the yolk…” he muttered, grabbing the napkin all the same and grudgingly wiping his fingers. He had told her to help him mind his manners. Sighing, the Warlord tossed the dirtied napkin back onto the table, no rudeness or malice intended in that action even though it was definitely not a polite mannerism.

He rolled the phrase ‘maintain frequent interactions’ in his head with one-part amusement and one-part irritation, “Yes, you certainly make it sound appealing,” he muttered. It shouldn’t really have irritated him. As far as he was concerned this mateship was little more than a practical necessity, but somehow it still managed to grate on his nerves. He had gone out of his way to not be overly unpleasant; she could at least pretend that spending time in his company was not such an odious chore.

Dahlia offered him her sausage and he took it without thinking about it, popping the whole thing into his mouth, chewing twice and swallowing before he realized that this was precisely what he was trying not to do. Cursing himself under his breath, the Warlord reflexively grabbed the napkin and wiped both his hands and mouth—as though attempting one act of politeness might cancel out the previous impolite one. He was also realizing that Dahlia had not eaten nearly as much food as he would have expected her to. It hadn’t occurred to him that a dragon might not prefer a meat heavy breakfast, but he should have probably asked her.

Thane was about to say as much when the female suddenly smirked, removed her shoes, ran to his bed, jumped on it, sat down, and then returned just as quickly as she had left. He stared at her, baffled. Her little quip and laugh did not do a great deal to ease his confusion and the male glanced at the bed and then back towards her. “Why did you bother taking off your shoes? Surely, they’re not dirty yet?” he was hyper-focusing on the wrong detail, he was dimly aware of that, but he didn’t know how else to respond. “I… don’t see how a half-truth is any better than a full lie, but,” he relaxed offering her an indulgent smile, “If such foolishness amuses you then I won’t complain about it.”

As she declared that they ought to get going, Thane nodded towards her. “Yes, of course, I imagine Arthur will be free now. He won’t touch anything of yours without permission, but he is off putting sometimes…” Thane wavered for a moment and then sighed, “…With females. He has a proclivity for bad jokes. It’ll be worse considering the fact that we’re just mated, I’ll curb him as best I can.”

Pushing back from the table, Thane stood and was about to begin heading for the door when Dahlia shot him a furtive glance alongside a suggestion to put on a shirt and he looked down at himself. Oh. It had completely slipped his mind. “This is a great deal worse than licking my fingers,” he muttered, shooting her a puzzled look, “You ought to have mentioned it immediately before we began eating,” he couldn’t imagine why she hadn’t mentioned it until now. Unless… had her flushed cheeks and refusal to look at him been because he had been half naked? That was an interesting thought. Thane tucked it away to mull over later.

For the time being he want to his dresser, rifled through it, and pulled out a black shirt that he quickly pulled on. It sat attractively against his skin, not quite as loose as the previous day’s shirt. It brought attention to his long silky black hair and the fine angles of his face. Not that Thane was really cognizant of any of this. He was not particularly vain and did not think of himself in terms of attractive or unattractive.

“Right, let’s go then,” he said as he returned to the door and glanced at her. “I’m assuming this outfit meets with your approval?” he cocked an eyebrow but didn’t wait for her answer, hiding his smile with a snort and exiting the room with his usual self-assured stride.



“My, if I had a body like that to stick my—”

“Arthur,” Thane growled, his voice snapping through the air. There was warning in his tone, voice lower and colder than either Dahlia or Arthur had heard before.

“M-my apologies, m’lord, almost let my tongue get away with me,” Arthur laughed awkwardly, voice pinched a little with instinctive fear, as he clapped a hand to the back of his neck. “What I meant to say, m’lady, is that you must be thoroughly enjoying getting to ride—”

“ARTHUR.”

“H-here’s your pot and soil, mistress, I, uh, had it made ready for ya yesterday when Master Thane sent word that you’d be wanting it,” he said, holding it out to her with his head bowed—like he was offering a sacrifice to a goddess instead of a pot and soil to a female.

Thane pinched the bridge of his nose, “Thank you, Arthur, I think the meadow needs to be looked over for any poisonous plants today.”

“Oh? I did check it just last—”

A withering look from the Warlord had Arthur swallowing whatever he had been about to say, and bobbing his head instead, turning on his heel, grabbing a trowel and all but running out of the large conservatory to go perform the task he had been given.

Here, surrounded by a lush jungle of plants on all sides, Thane breathed in the comforting earthy scented humid air and glanced back at Dahlia. “Is there anything else you need? As an aside, you’re free to come here to tinker in the gardens,” he swept a hand to include the plethora of beds of plants. “Re-plant, tend to the existing plants, or do anything you’d like. The ones that are precious to me are kept in my chambers so all of this can be changed however you’d wish,” he almost suggested she start up a garden for medicinal and poisonous plants but stopped himself. Once she had settled in a bit better after a few weeks he would ask then, now was too soon.
 

Dahlia only quirked a brow when Thane announced they were not to stop the game until he win. Of course that was the point since she had given him an infinite amount of guesses. This honestly wasn't a game meant to be lost, but something for them to at least have a topic of conversation about. If all else failed and if he hadn't yet guessed correctly it was something that could be brought up.

"No, it's not an annual," she answered. It was a good question to start with and would cut out asking about those plants or naming any as guesses. That still left quite a long list for him to go through unless he choose his questions wisely.

She smiled slightly as he seemed to almost pout in response to her point of using the napkin to wipe his hands clean rather than lick them. Waste of yolk or not, he had said she could help him with his table manners and so she would. It also gave her just the smallest fraction of power in whatever their dynamic was. She did her best to bite her tongue because she didn't want so early on make Thane hate her. This was more out of self-interest and preservation. She didn't know what he would do if she truly enraged him. He wouldn't kill her, but that didn't mean he wasn't capable of hurting her in other ways, like when he said he could raze her family.

Dahlia didn't say anything when Thane scorfed down the sausage, she actually laughed when he used the napkin though shaking her head slightly. She was grateful when he finally put a shirt on too. Of course, after seeing him shirtless it wasn't as though she could exactly unsee it. "Y-You're clothed so it works," she said. She wasn't going to give him a compliment and feed his ego if she could help it. Thankfully the shirt was loose as if it had been tight on his body it probably wouldn't have help Dahlia from curiously looking.

Was it so bad to enjoy looking at someone attractive? No. But this was Thane and she was not going to give him the pleasure of knowing she thought that.

-

Her eye twitched the moment Arthur began to start with the obvious perverse jokes, which Thane very quickly interrupted. "Oh no, let the man finish his jokes. I want to know if he truly has the balls to finish them." She was staring him down with a gleam in her eyes that dared him to try and say something else perverted at her expense. If he did he was going to find himself suffering a knee to his groin.

She took the pot and soil from him, still staring him down with her challenge hanging in the air. She needed some physical release of her frustration and if Arthur wanted to be a target she wasn't going to stop him. If she was going to have to come to him in regards to needs for gardening then it was best to put him in his place earlier rather than later. Dahlia gave him a smile but her tone was anything but sweet, "Yes, go look for poisonous plants Arthur."

When he did leave she set the pot down, "Nope, this is all I need for now. I'll come back on my own to explore here later. Sorry.. for the vulgar language. Older brothers, bad habits." She hesitated for a moment and then cleared her throat. It was bothering her a bit; his scar. Dahlia wanted to ask him, but it seemed like a topic she needed to stay away from. Her brothers and even her father liked to tell stories about how they got their scars, but she knew of her brother's friends who didn't like to openly talk about such things.

Honestly, she didn't know why she was bothering to try and get to know Thane or have him get to know her. Thane had no actual interest in her and so it was only fair to not have interest in him. But she had a damnable curiosity which also often got her into trouble. "Aren't you lonely?" she asked bluntly, kneeling next to the pot and rolling the soil between her pinched fingers. "I know you have servants, but you said your family was all gone. In the time I've wandered around here it feels so empty and lonely."

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," she said as she stood back up after being satisfied that the soil would do for her needs. She dusted her hands on her dress, not caring if it got dirty. It was a simple dress and easy to clean and it had endured worse amounts of dirt.

There was more to her question though. More things she was curious about. The little he had said of his mother made it seem as though his mother loved her family. Did his mother love his father or was it just a duty for them to be mated. It was nosy questions about his past and likely sensitive since his family was gone. She perked up slightly with an idea and turned to him with mild excitement for a moment and then it faded as she stopped herself from blurting out her idea.

He lost his brothers, but she had hers and she had thought to see if he would invite them to go hunting some time together. Maybe Thane would get to sense some pleasant nostalgia as he had likely done such things with his own brothers. Dahlia barely knew Thane so she had no right to assume he would want to do such things. He sounded as though he was fairly busy and that this week was only because he was required to spend a period of time with her.

"D-Do you hunt?" she asked, trying to change the topic and learn something to see if perhaps the idea had a chance.
 
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Fable Fable

Thane had not expected Dahlia to respond with such aggression to Arthur’s jokes. He had been quite certain that the female would find them offensive and embarrassing. Instead she rose to meet them, casting an imperious glare at the groundskeeper that made Thane grin before he even realized he was doing it. This, he liked. He had said before that he respected courage, but he also respected assertiveness. For this moment, even if only briefly, she held herself like the true mate of a Warlord.

Her parting shot hit its mark, Arthur flushing and averting his eyes as he had left, and after Thane watched him go, he turned a thoughtful look onto Dahlia. He only half heard the first part of her statement, still re-running the scene of her fiery eyes pinning Arthur in place in his head. Thane only really came back the conversation when she apologized for the language and at that he snorted, “I’m a Warlord, Dahlia, do you really think language bothers me? Besides,” he chuckled now and crossed his well-muscled arms over his chest, “It was well worth it to see you put Arthur in his place.”

Dahlia’s next question caught him off guard, so far removed from the previous topic that it felt a little like it gave him whiplash. But, as he mulled it over, watching her quietly as she knelt beside the pot and began to work the soil, Thane couldn’t see the harm in answering. Theirs was no love story, but she was his mate and he saw no reason to hide the truth from her. “Yes, I’m lonely,” admitting it stung a little, but it was something he had reflected on many times before and had come to a peace with it. “But loneliness is the lot of a Warlord. I am responsible for the health and wellbeing of many beneath me and in competition with those of the same rank as me. Family is the only respite from the loneliness of my position and I no longer have mine,” he lapsed into silence for a moment and then shrugged, “I’ve grown used to it though. And my position keeps me busy enough that I cannot dwell on it.” Thane left it unsaid that a mate was the only other possibility for a male in his position to turn to for companionship, he’d determined that Dahlia was no idiot, she would be able to infer it.

For a moment she seemed to light up, as though with some idea, but it faded, and she held her tongue instead. Thane didn’t push, if she wished to keep her thoughts to herself then that was her business, not his. The stammered question she asked instead made him chuckle a little, and the Warlord leaned back against a support for the tall glass ceiling of the conservatory before he answered. “Yes, I hunt. I believe it is a requisite part of being a Warlord.”
 

Dahlia shrugged when Thane said he wasn't bothered by her language. She figured he wanted to maintain a certain image and having a vulgar mate in the incorrect setting or something said to the wrong person would come with the risk of getting herself in trouble. Arthur needed to have it made clear to him on their first meeting though she wasn't going to tolerate lewd jokes at her expense from him. He was going to learn she wasn't going to demurely sit and endure comments which were downright insulting to her person.

"Oh I'm sure he'll get the message not to say lewd things about me, next time I'll be holding shears and I'll see if he wants to risk losing something precious," she muttered a bit. She could be referring to clipping a beloved plant to him or something from his person, either option seemed likely to be a influencing threat.

As Thane admitted to being lonely Dahlia was caught off guard having expected him to just brush off the question. His following words just sounded like an excuse, a reason for him to be alone. The loss of his family obviously has a large influence on him. She didn't ask another question, asking if it was a drive to continue his bloodline or a desire for a family that prompted him to seek out a mate. He'd seen firm in his stance it was for his bloodline alone but Dahlia had a small suspicion there was something else to it. Though she could be totally incorrect and imposing her ideas onto him.

She wasn't bothered when he chuckled at her question about him hunting. "I had a thought," she began carefully, "You could go hunting with my brothers. They might annoy you more than anything, at least Gareth and Gabe might. They tend to bicker. And wrestle and compete." Thinking more on it, how hilarious would it be to see her brothers losing to Thane in their normal games. Gideon was too calm to be bothered by such things, but her other brothers wouldn't be able to let it go so easily.

"It's just something to consider. I'm curious though, you have other hobbies right?" she went over to where he was though she maintained a proper distance from him. "Besides hunting and gardening."

She linked her fingers behind her back as she looked up at him. Dahlia didn't think any of their interested overlapped besides gardening. There was that book but it was the only romance novel she had found and Thane had it hiding in his nightstand. She wasn't sure if he collected things of interest, well he probably had a bunch of weapons somewhere in his estate. That seemed to fall in line with his Warloard image. Horseback riding as well. Dahlia wasn't the best due to having her mother sit in that stupid side saddle.

Horses. Dahlia stood up straight and grinned at Thane, "You have stables here right? Horses?" She probably looked like an excited child but she didn't care.
 
Fable Fable

The mental image of Dahlia waving a pair of shears threateningly at Arthur made Thane grin. That was something he would pay to see. “Indeed, I’m sure that he would think twice about bandying his lewd jokes if he knew you’d be happy to geld him,” Thane chuckled, his mind instantly assuming the worst possible ‘precious’ thing for Arthur to lose. “It does bear mentioning that here on the estate I don’t care what sort of language you use, but in company you need to be prudent with your language—for obvious reasons,” even the Warlord had to curb his tongue when faced with the princes, his rank did not protect him from charges of insubordination or the social suicide that a misplaced word could create.

At Dahlia’s suggestion he grew still and silent, withdrawing inside himself until he was next to impossible to read. There were risks associated with what she was suggesting, opportunities for betrayal and self-serving motivations. To Dahlia they were her brothers, but Thane knew that all three had high ranking positions in the Draconic army. Their affection was for their sister, not the mate she had been bought by. Hunts were intimate affairs; it was only too easy for an arrow to miss its mark and sink into a dragon, or for a sure-footed horse to mysteriously slip and throw its rider down a gorge. Such ‘accidents’ were not unusual and, in the case of her brothers, would have the added benefit of freeing their sister from her mateship.

“Perhaps it would be better to invite your family to visit you at the estate first,” Thane finally answered, his words carefully chosen. “That may be an easier way to test whether such a thing would even be agreeable to them,” and it would afford him the opportunity to observe them closely and gauge their character. Not that it meant he could trust them, Thane could ill afford to trust anyone, but at least it would give him a better idea of their motivations. Not that he intended to tell Dahlia any of this, the thought might have been offensive to her and Thane was enjoying this little conversation too much to ruin it at present.

“Hobbies?” he mulled the word over, thinking of the things he did in his spare time—which was infrequent anyways and often taken up with planning battle schemes and the like. Before he had a chance to answer, however, the fiery-haired female straightened up abruptly with a broad grin on her face. Her eyes danced with sudden excitement and at her mention of horses Thane relaxed and grinned in turn.

“Yes, naturally. Warhorses though, not pleasure horses. My family has long been involved in the breeding of them, our horse bloodlines are nearly as ancient as our own, which has culminated in some marvelous destriers—unlike any seen elsewhere,” the note of pride in his voice was unmistakable, even if the sentiment might have been stretching the truth a touch. His was not the only family to have been breeding warhorses for generations, but that didn’t change his bias towards his own stock.

“I’d be happy to show you the stables, if you’d like. I didn’t think to ask if you ride but you’d be welcome to pick a horse for yourself. They may be destriers, but their temperament is even keeled and steady, an excellent companion for a ride. The added benefit is that, being bred for fearlessness in battle, they won’t abandon you if trouble arises either. Not a traditional lady’s horse, I know, but you are a Warlord’s mate and what does it matter?” Thane realized, belatedly, that this was probably the most he had spoken at one time to her and with a great deal more enthusiasm than he had with anything else. He cleared his throat, trying to rein himself in, and dipped his head towards her, “But, of course, if you’d prefer a more traditional riding horse, I could see about having one bought for you. Or not at all, if you don’t ride,” he tried very hard to keep his tone steady, but it was not hard to see that the two final options he offered her did not hold the same appeal for him.
 

Dahlia could only sigh as Thane threw up his guard at the suggestion of hunting with her brothers. This was why she had hesitated to suggest it in the first place. If he was at least willing to let them visit here then perhaps he'd see they weren't bad. Her mother and father on the other hand she was more worried about. Hopefully that would be a visit that would take place a long time from now, though if Dahlia didn't send out announcements of some pregnancy within three months Dahlia was certain her mother would come crashing through the estate.

"Very well," she replied, trying to not let it bother her. It was as expected and she hadn't gotten her hopes up for such an event.

Dahlia tilted her head somewhat when Thane said he bred warhorses and not pleasure horses. To her a horse was a horse, she had no idea what made a horse a warhorse exactly or the specific breeds. The moment he said she could pick her own she smiled even more brightly and grabbed one of his hands tightly, "Really?!" It took her a full fifteen seconds to realized her enthusiasm had resulted in physical contact and she quickly released his hand, "Sorry."

She cleared her throat awkwardly, "As for riding, you know those side saddles? I've only ever ridden using that and you can easily figure out that by riding it's more like sitting and not falling off." Dahlia gave him a sheepish look as she explained her lack of riding skill. Dahlia wasn't going to ask Thane to teach her how to ride properly, he made it clear he was a busy person and she could probably ask someone who trained the horses to help her rather than bother him. "You're probably going to retract your offer now aren't you? I don't need a fancy traditional horse and I'm sure the stable-master has someone who can help me learn to ride properly."
 
Fable Fable

The offer to let Dahlia choose a horse for herself had more than the desired effect. The smile gracing her lips widened even more, and to Thane’s eternal shock she impulsively grabbed one of his large hands in both of hers. The obvious delight she felt seemingly overshadowing her usual reason as it took far too long for her to realize what she had done and quickly drop the physical contact.

Much to Thane’s chagrin, he felt somewhat tongue-tied, not exactly sure how to respond to her after that. He wanted to tell her that ‘sorry’ was unnecessary, maybe make a few quips about mateship, but none of those felt quite right so he opted for uncertain silence, brows knit together as he tried to make sense of it. It had felt… nice, the warmth of her small hands surrounding his, brief as it had been. But why he had enjoyed the touch was another matter entirely. There was nothing sexual about it, so it was not arousal that he felt, but the only other explanation that came to mind was far too disturbing to entertain. It circulated around the concepts outlined in those foolish novels like The Bonds of a Heart. Things like companionship and affection. He had felt those things for his family, yes, but Dahlia was not family—she was an unwilling mate with a purpose that she found odious.

Fortunately, Dahlia turned the subject back to the matter at hand—namely, horses—and this allowed the Warlord to push past his own flustered feelings to a far safer topic that could distract him.

He clicked his tongue in displeasure to hear she had only ever ridden side-saddle. Another foolish tradition. Without straddling the horse there was not nearly enough stability granted to make use of the animal properly… in a fight, during a hunt, or if needed to escape from trouble, riding side-saddle would only serve to get her killed. Her worry that he would retract his offer made him frown at her, and her quick attempt to convince him in spite of her inability nearly made him roll his eyes.

“Naturally, I’m not going to retract my offer. All the more reason for you to learn properly if you’ve been forced to ride side-saddle all these years,” he thought about it for a moment, glancing away from her to some middle distance, “Hmm… yes, the stable-master can help you, but I’d be more than willing to teach you as well. For the remainder of the week we need something to fill our days,” he cast her a dry glance out the corner of his eyes, “Since we aren’t partaking in the normal activity expected of honeymooners, until I resume my duties I can get you off to a proper start in riding at least. As for after that… I can oversee your lessons during weekends when I am not occupied and the stable-master can assign someone to teach you during the week if you desire,” he tilted his head curiously in her direction, “Would that be acceptable to you?”
 

Dahlia raised a brow at Thane when he offered to teach her himself. She understood for the week he had set aside planning to do other things, but he extended the offer to the weekends when he'd be less occupied. She had no reason to decline his offer, she just had expected him to make her someone else's 'problem' since he would be burdened with work. His glance as he reminded her that they weren't copulating made her sigh slightly with his unending focus on that subject.

She would have asked if he was sure he wanted to, but Dahlia expected he'd just scoff at her question, remind her they were mates and probably something about how as a mate of a Warlord she should have at least basic riding skill to handle a warhorse; so on and so forth. Part of her wanted to just ask just so she could poke fun at him. Maybe even imitate him and his dry glances and serious looks. She'd probably be unable to keep a straight face doing that.

"I do not have a reason to decline or say it's unacceptable," answered, wondering if she should hold out her hand to mark this deal but thought better of it. "I only had planned to plant the seed in the pot and place it back in the bedroom, but I can do that later since it's troublesome to go back inside just to come back out. Just one moment." Dahlia picked up the pot and moved it somewhere out of the way then went to grab a small watering can that Arthur had abandoned. It had enough water to moisten the soil and Dahlia took out a piece of folded paper and took out a small bulb seed, laying it atop the soil before using her index finger to gently push it down into the dirt.

She used the last bit of water from the watering can to rinse the damp earth from her hand and then returned to where Thane was, "Ready. By the way, since you probably have your own horse, what did you name him?" You could learn a bit about a person by what they named their pets and steeds. Dahlia was very certain he wouldn't name a warhorse a fluttery feminine name. She wondered if he would be original, naming the horse something related to its coat color, like how black coat horses always seemed to be named Midnight.
 
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