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Fantasy Draconic Disagreements

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Fable Fable

Thane nodded in silent answer as Dahlia set about the final touches needed to plant the bulb, watching her as she worked though his mind was on other things. Namely Liordan and what Dahlia’s life would have looked like had the prince gotten her instead of him. The Warlord had a fair inkling it would not have been pleasant.

As a general rule, Thane was fairly pragmatic and straightforward, but he also tried very hard to be fair and considerate—at least, as much as he was able. It was something his mother had instilled in him from a young age; that a good Warlord must balance the necessity for ruthlessness towards enemies with care for those he ruled over. This extended towards Dahlia, naturally, but he knew that Liordan did not share this philosophy. Had the female ended with him she would have been used and abused already. The thought made Thane feel an irrational quiver of anger, even though it was all hypothetical.

He huffed out a steadying breath when Dahlia returned to him and said she was ready, turning on his heel to lead her out towards the stables with his usual unaccommodatingly long stride. “The name of my horse?” he murmured, the question registering a little slowly. Yes, horses. Something that always lifted his spirits, a far better subject to focus on. “You’ll see her shortly,” he began to answer her, a smile tipping his lips up at the thought of his mare, “But her name is Laleia, she’s ah—” he paused for a moment, realizing that what he was about to say might be a little telling but no longer able to backtrack having gone this far, “She’s named after a character in a book.” It couldn’t hurt for Dahlia to know he occasionally partook in frivolous reading, surely? Plenty of fiction was stereotypically acceptable for males to read, that information did not lend itself to her guessing the name to come from some vapid romance novel… even if it had.

“At any rate,” he said hurriedly, breathing in a deep lungful of fresh air as they exited the conservatory onto the grounds, “There are a few four-year-old’s that have only recently finished their training and are now ready for riders. I had intended to take them to market next week to be sold, but the timing works well. You can have your pick from among them,” he had some personal favourites in this current crop that he would have been tempted to recommend, but the bond between horse and rider was a special thing so he opted to stay silent. Dahlia could simply go with her instincts when choosing.

The barn, when they reached it, was large and well kept, the wood polished until it gleamed. A carving depicting two magnificent stallions locked in battle drew the eye to above the barn doors, the phrase ‘Arte Et Marte’ in elegant script below the carved horses.

Thane pushed open the doors and the sweet scent of hay, manure and warm horseflesh breezed out to greet them. The Warlord breathed it in deeply, tension releasing from his shoulders and his entire posture changing to something more relaxed and approachable as they stepped inside.

Heads popped over stall doors, Thane’s scent a familiar one that usually boded well for the presence of treats in the form of apples and carrots. “I have nothing for you today,” he called to them cheerfully, “Save a new companion for you to meet,” talking to the horses was a habit of his. To some it seemed a little sad, like the Warlord had chosen to turn the affection and companionship he had once shared with his family towards the horses instead, not even conscious that he was doing it. But to Thane the animals were easier to talk to. They didn’t talk back, they didn’t plot to kill him, and if they bit him… well, he should have seen it coming.

From nearer the back of the barn there came a demanding whinny and the Warlord chuckled. “That would be Laleia,” he said, turning now to look at Dahlia as if remembering she was there. “She can be a demanding mistress,” he flicked his gaze away from her to take in the barn as though seeing it with fresh eyes, “What do you think?”

Maddock would be aware of their presence shortly and would likely come hurrying to introduce himself to Dahlia, but for now the stablemaster remained absent.
 

Dahlia lifted her skirt a bit so as she moved to keep up she wouldn't risk tripping over the fabric in her efforts. When he said 'she' in reference to seeing his horse blinked and processed and smiled to herself at her incorrect assumptions. He further destroyed those speculations as he told her his horse's name was Laleia; after a character in a book. The name was familiar, like she'd stumbled across it somewhere but she couldn't exactly recall at this moment. Honestly, she was just way too ecstatic about seeing the horses.

Then it hit her, The Bonds of a Heart. She grinned at his back with a very amused expression. Oh she could hint at it now, just drop the name of the book casually and tactfully to startle him, pretend she had simply encountered the book before. "That name sounds familiar," she began. "I think I've read it in a romance novel somewhere, the title eludes me though. Maybe I'm mistaken or misremembering though..." she let her words trail off as though she was pondering, trying to make her voice's inflection rise use in a question and uncertainty so she could sell her false doubt about the name.

"By Skill and By Fighting?" she said out loud as she read the phrase. Using it as a way distract from her little passive tease.

She took in the majestic barn with slight awe. Her own family had a small stable for their horses, who were used to help farm with plowing and such. They were used for travel as well when needed. Their stable was decent enough, but it very small in comparison and rougher in appearance. The scent didn't bother her in the slightest. Horse manure was used to help fertilize plants so Dahlia was very familiar with it.

Just as the horses peeked over stall doors Dahlia peeped around from behind Thane with bright and excited eyes. She knew better than to squeal and make a fuss but inside she was doing so about how pretty they were and wondering their names, temperaments, and so forth. She was pulled from her little inner celebration when Thane began talking to the horses, saying he had no treats for them.

"It's very impressive overall," she replied when he asked her what she thought. "Well maintained, healthy looking horses..." She wandered past Thane looking around with interest between the horses and the barn itself, though mindful to avoid any excrement droppings. She didn't stray too far from Thane and eventually turned back to look at him, "I'm curious, if you were to select a horse for me, which would it be?"
 
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Fable Fable

Giving away any reaction to her musing about where Laleia’s name had come from was ill advised, but Thane couldn’t quite restrain the startled twitch he made when Dahlia first mentioned it. His shoulders hunched ever so slightly as she continued to ponder over where she might have heard the name. Thane didn’t want to lie so he opted for tense silence instead.

It was his own damnable fault. Partially for mentioning that Laleia was named for a character in a book, and partially for naming her that way in the first place. It had been an impulsive decision based on nostalgia and whimsy—two things he was not normally driven by, and now look what it had bought him!

Thane also very visibly flinched when Dahlia read the motto below the carved horses. He had been certain she was about to say The Bonds of a Heart and correctly guess the book for which Laleia was named. Which would have meant Thane had to admit to it. He was not above lying by omission, but if directly asked he did not believe he could lie to her and retain his honor as both male and mate. Fortunately, as the words she had actually said sank in, the Warlord believed he had been granted a reprieve from that unpleasant business and blew out a relieved sigh.

“Yes, when my bloodline first established these stables that was the motto chosen to act as the guiding principle for the breeding program,” it was fairly self explanatory and he probably hadn’t needed to say anything at all, but Thane was eager to move the conversation along and past the topic of Laleia’s name.

A proud smile crossed his face when Dahlia said it was impressive, nodding his head in silent agreement to both that assessment and her statement about the quality of the horses. Thane’s eyes followed her as she stepped past him to look around, an excited aura around her that felt vaguely childlike. It was endearing in a way, though the Warlord was not about to admit that to anyone—not even himself.

When Dahlia turned back to him and asked what horse he would choose for her, the lingering worries about the origin of Laleia’s name faded away, replaced by an almost boyish eagerness that seemed out of place on the imposing Warlord. “Well,” he said, slipping past her carefully and pacing to the end of the barn where he nodded to the stall opposite Laleia’s, “I had been tempted to keep him myself, but there’s only so much room in the stable and Laleia would not appreciate competition for my attention,” even as he said it the dappled gray mare stretched her head towards him—he was standing between her stall and the one opposite hers—and tried to snuffle at his shoulder. Thane took a step back towards her so that the mare could reach him more easily and absently caught her massive head in his hands, stroking her muzzle as he continued to speak.

“I didn’t name him—it’s too difficult for me to sell them if they’re given a name, but he has a very agreeable personality and temperament. Well suited to a new rider. I also suspect he would handle himself very well in any sort of harrowing situation which is another point in his favour,” the young stallion was also an exceedingly handsome animal, though he preferred for Dahlia to judge that for herself.
 

When Thane twitched inwardly she was cackling. His body language, as minor as it was, made her feel a small victory and also confirmed that the book was much more than some keepsake. He had named his horse after a character from it! She of course 'overlooked' these little twitches and flinches. It was better to pretend ignorance. Dahlia wouldn't be able to keep referring to the book frequently, though at some point she would have to mention the title as though she had just remembered it.

She would enact that plan at a more suitable time because she could very easily follow up with questions, such as if she was correctly thinking of the character he had named his horse after. It was a loaded question because by confirming it was the origin of the namesake he would have to admit to reading the book. Or would he perhaps push that she was mistaken in trying to defend his Warlord pride and deny he had no interest in such a book nor had he read it.

Dahlia followed after him as he went to the end of the barn, nodding to the horse opposite of his own. The male horse towered over her, but she wasn't bothered, mostly just concerning about problems actually mounting the horse. She'd probably have to use some sort of mounting block to do so. She only glanced at Thane for a brief moment as he moved to allow his horse to touch him, stroking her automatically. So he had a fondness for horses it seems to the point of actually showing affection.

Oh how tempting it was to use the male's name from The Bonds of a Heart. That would give away her game though because the only reason she would suggest such a name was if she knew them. She couldn't even suggest it in passing as she named out considerations for a name because it was just too risky. The horse was impressive and handsome and a name popped into her head, "Levent." It wasn't a question, she didn't ask what Thane thought of the name, this was her horse after all.

She moved close enough for Levent to extend his muzzle towards her as he curiously booped her cheek and sniffed around her and inspected. She raised her hands to let her hands glide across the bridge of his nose and over his face to his forehead which didn't disturb him in the slightest. "Too bad we didn't bring any treats," she idly commented as she affectionately pet Levent to gauge his temperament towards her and see how tolerant he was towards being touched.

"You probably don't keep a mounting block," she commented since Thane probably had no trouble mounting without one.
 
Fable Fable

“Levent?” he rolled the name around on his tongue and slowly nodded, a smile softening his face, “It’s a good name, though you do not need to go by my suggestion of horse, you’re free to pick your own…” but he trailed off as he said it, seeing the way Dahlia let the stallion snuffle at her and the way she then lifted her hand to pet the horse. He knew a bond being formed when he saw it and chuckled quietly under his breath, turning towards Laleia to give Dahlia some time to herself to get to know the stallion.

A bucket of brushes sat against the wall and Thane went over to pick through them, shoving the mare’s head away when she bopped him impatiently as he grabbed a curry comb and turned back to her. “There’s no reason we can’t return later with some treats to make up for forgetting them this time,” he said, brushing Laleia’s sleek neck with one hand and scratching the opposite side of her neck with the other. “Alternatively, you can always brush him. He enjoys being brushed almost as much as Laleia so I think it would be an acceptable peace offering.” Though Thane did not often have spare time, what little he did have had been largely spent in the barns—before mating Dahlia at any rate, and so he knew all the horses quite well. Particularly his personal favourites.

“And we do have a mounting block. Maddock is surprisingly short—though he has a magic touch with the animals—so it was necessary to have one for his sake,” Thane shrugged a shoulder, continuing his rhythmic brushing of the mare’s coat. “Besides, on the rare occasion where guests or potential buyers arrive, it’s prudent to keep a one available for them should they desire a ride.”

He set the brush aside temporarily and walked to an empty stall that was used as storage for the barn. Beyond the unmistakable scent of leather saddles and the plethora of hung bridles, a mounting block was set to the side and Thane picked it up to carry back to Dahlia. “Naturally, if you want to try riding him, he’d need to be properly tacked, but here is the mounting block in the meantime.” If nothing else it would give her a handy boost to groom the stallion more easily if she so desired.
 

"I trust your judgement," Dahlia said when he said she didn't have to go with his suggestion of horse. She wasn't going to just shrug off Levent and choose another horse. Levent was greatly enjoying the attention being offered which made Dahlia smile. Something to add to her list of positives of her situation. While Ilia could be a feminine companion for her as well as a handmaiden, caring for and riding Levent, being able to plant what she wished... her smile faded because even with all that there was this empty feeling in her chest.

She sighed before she could stop herself as she reflected on the great possibility that this empty feeling wouldn't ever go away. Not really. Levent perhaps sensed this mood change and nudged her slightly and she patted him before going to grab a brush herself. "I can bring treats next time I come visit," she replied, though her tone didn't hold the earlier excitement as before, though she tried to do her best to seem unbothered.

Dahlia didn't turn to watch Thane as he went to retrieve the mounting block nor when he brought it over for her to use. "Makes sense," she replied, "And I don't need to ride him today. We've only just been introduced, better to get to know him first." She went to move and then use the mounting block so she would have better access to the tall horse to properly brush him. She'd done this with her own horses at home.

Truth be told, Dahlia hadn't yet faced her situation, not entirely. She had been busy wandering the estate, pestering Thane to try and understand him a bit, but suddenly the heavy weight just hit her. She had hoped once Thane mentioned he'd be with her for an entire week before returning to work that she could just put off confronting her reality. But that one single stray thought crashed into her like a wave and she was struggling to not be pulled in.

An excuse was needed because she didn't want to have to try and explain herself to Thane who didn't understand her or seem to want to. He was being kind in his own way, but he seemed willing to overlook the cruelty of an arranged mateship because his only true concern was to continue his bloodline. The problem was she didn't have an excuse and telling him she wanted to be alone came with the risk of being bothered with questions about why or him bringing up their agreement.

She inhaled deeply, determined, she could do this. Just shove it deep down, if he asked she'd brush it off as simple homesickness and with him being emotionally dense he'd probably accept it with no suspicion. Just pick some topic to converse about. She was tempted to poke something painful, bring up his family which would probably anger him to the point of not desiring to be in her presence, but she wasn't that mean or desperate.

"You know, giving me a horse might be a terrible I idea," she began with a bad joke, "I could try and run away."
 
Fable Fable

The easy smile on the Warlord’s face faltered as Dahlia’s voice seemed to lose some of its excitement while she spoke of bringing treats the next time. Thane was well aware that he was not particularly adept at navigating the feelings of others, but with the amount of attention he had been devoting to the female… even he could sense a shift in her mood.

The question now was whether it was prudent to call attention to it. To ask her if something was troubling her. But in all honesty, Thane wasn’t sure that he had a right to question the female. It was one thing to set certain expectations for her… but intruding into her mind was not something he wanted to do. Not unless she wished for him to, and Thane couldn’t imagine that was something Dahlia would ever want. Not from him.

Introspectively, he turned back to Laleia instead, picking up the brush again and working it through her coat. His thoughts were a tangle. Part of him preferred the thought of dismissing Dahlia’s feelings, making no comment and pretending he hadn’t noticed any change. But the other part of him didn’t want her to be distressed. He knew next to nothing about her, but already Thane had a firm belief that Dahlia being subdued did not suit her.

She reminded him of his horses. Spirited, given to occasional acts of foolishness, but good hearted. It was only an initial impression and could easily be proved wrong with time, but perhaps it spoke to why he didn’t like her seeming subdued. If she was like his horses and he liked his horses… then it stood to reason that he liked her, at least a little.

Thane was silent for a beat after her bad joke. It didn’t take a genius to know what was amiss with her, especially after a joke like that. It wasn’t surprising either, hadn’t he thought it all the way back at the mating ceremony? There was no way a female could be pleased to be bought and sold as a broodmare. Dahlia hadn’t even hidden her displeasure with the idea, she had negotiated for six months the instant they were alone together. No wonder she would be prone to moments of low spirits.

“My mother always insisted that if she had a daughter, she would not permit her to be sold off to further some bloodline,” he said quietly, continuing to work Laleia’s coat with the brush. “Father could never deny mother anything so he liked to say he’d happily start a war to protect any daughter of theirs if that was how she felt,” a small smile tugged briefly at Thane’s lips before it faded, “I suppose she wouldn’t have approved of me taking you as a means of settling the debt your father owed me.” Thane was silent for a beat and then sighed softly, “I am sorry, Dahlia,” it occurred to him belatedly that this was the first time he had said her name out loud… it tasted strange on his tongue, “Truly sorry, that you are forced into this mateship against your will… even if that doesn’t change anything.” It was the truth at least, and it felt good to say it, though Thane didn’t expect that it would make her feel much better.

“If you prefer, I have some things I could take care of in the castle. Maddock should be back shortly to assist you if you needed anything,” what he was offering was obvious—some time for her to collect herself alone, if that was what she wanted.
 

Dahlia hoped her joked would annoyed Thane slightly, set him on edge, make him annoyed with her and want to leave without having to resort to other hurtful topics. His reply to her joke caused her to still for a long moment as he spoke about how his mother hadn't wanted any daughter - should she have one - to be subjected to what Dahlia herself was. Thane voiced that he mother wouldn't have approved of him and his methods to acquire her.

That wasn't the most shocking thing he said though, just as she was about to return to brushing Levent he apologized and said her name. He didn't call her female but actually used her name and thinking on it, he hadn't up to this point. Her eyes watered despite her efforts to maintain her composure. She had swore she wasn't going to cry in front of him. If she appeared weak Thane had seemed the predatory type that would have no qualms going after weak prey. All she could do was close her eyes tightly and fight the painful lump in her throat.

Even as he apologized he said it didn't change anything. And that cut deeper. For all his apology, his seeming to understand, he still was going to expect that in six months she go to him to fulfill her end of their bargain. Could he truly be sorry and yet at the same time be fine of his expectations of her? It made the apologies disingenuous to Dahlia.

She said nothing as he said he had things to take care of in the castle and to have Maddock help her if she needed it. Dahlia said nothing, just stood there tensely until he left and even then she waited with tightly closed eyes and trying to control her breathing before she bolted from the barn, away from the direction of the castle. She knew she couldn't run away, not really. It wasn't out of a sense of honor for her deal with Thane but for the simple fact she could only return home if she tried and she'd just end up right back here.

She didn't want Maddock was to see her in this state either and she wasn't going to go back to the castle where there were servants. So she went as far as she could from the castle as she could before sitting in the tall grass to try and hide herself. She still didn't let herself cry though as much as she just wanted to bawl and sob. She took a deep shuddering breath. This was only the third day. Dahlia needed to steel her heart. What was done was done.

Frenzied thoughts came and went. One such was to just give herself over to Thane and get it over with. Just let this emptiness consume her entirely and leave her like a porcelain doll. It would be easy enough and he'd probably not think twice, doubt, or regret. There was a stupid idea to challenge him to a duel of sorts for herself. Not a duel with swords, she'd never beat him there. He wouldn't agree to such a deal though.

She took deep breaths. Think rationally, calm down. Breathe. Reminder herself she wasn't a doll for someone's amusement.

Dahlia didn't know how long she had stayed there but based on the sun's position in the sky it was probably nearing lunch time. Part of her wanted to stay there and see if Thane would bother her about eating lunch together or if he would let her be. She had decided she was going to force him to confront this reality as well. She wasn't going to let him off with that 'sorry, but this doesn't change anything' type of apology She wasn't going to stand for that.

She went back to the castle and returned to the bedroom where she expected Greta had sent their food. Dahlia approached Thane and without and word held his face between her hands and made him look at her. "Am I a person, a pet, or an object?" she asked him bluntly. "You don't want me to sit down demurely and keep my mouth shut. Yet somehow at the same time you seem to want me to be accepting of being treated less than what I truly am. You spout that I'm your mate, a Warlord's mate and in that same damn moment you demean me yourself on what my worth is to you reminding me of what my purpose here is."

Dahlia released his face, but she didn't back away. "If I'm nothing more than a thing to be used, then get it over with. You could. Despite any resistance from me and you know it. If you find you're unable to, ask yourself why. Why make a deal in the first place? You said you preferred if I didn't despise you, but it didn't matter ultimately to get what you want. If you're going to apologize for what you've dragged me into, don't in the next moment follow with words that make them utterly meaningless."

This was madness, pure death wish... well not death wish. More like be locked up in the castle for the rest of her life used as Thane pleased. Her hands were clenched with nailed digging into the palms of her hands as she waited for him to lunge at her, yell, and am multitude of other things. She'd wrapped herself up in her anger which spurred her to confront him..
 
Fable Fable

Greta had made stew again. The mouth-watering aroma of herbs, roasted meat and the earthy scent of the root vegetables steamed through the air. Thane took in a deep, tantalizing, inhale of the mix. Ilia had delivered the meal this time, her smile tentative and unsure when she had opened the door to see him sitting there. He had simply waved for her to leave it on the table and the handmaid had done so, curtsying to him once before quickly backing out of the room. He’d need to tell Roarke to remind her that he wasn’t royalty—she didn’t need to worry about turning her back on him. It would likely be less embarrassing for her to be told this by Roarke, he had a much gentler way about him. Always knowing how to handle a situation with tact. Thane sighed; it was a pity that he lacked that ability himself.

The door to their bedroom swung open and Dahlia stepped through. Thane was about to tell her that she had good timing, the stew should still be warm, when she marched up to him without a word and took his face firmly in her hands. The Warlord froze. Forced to look at her, feeling incapable of resisting, his hazel eyes held her fiery ones as she spoke.

Each word felt like a punch to his conscience. He could almost feel the ghost of his mother standing behind Dahlia, arms crossed, and eyebrows raised in a ‘well? She makes a good point, doesn’t she?’ sort of way. The female released his face and stepped back, her hands curling into fists at her side instead. She was waiting. Waiting for an answer.

Defensive anger was the first thing that rose through him, an instinctive rejection to insubordination or anyone questioning him. She didn’t understand the strain on him. She didn’t understand the weight of responsibility he bore. She didn’t understand that, in spite of how odious he himself found the situation, that he was as boxed in as she was. Then make her understand. He didn’t know where that inner voice came from, whether it was driven by his own sub-conscious or by the ghost of his mother’s memory, whose sage council had always helped him when he’d felt wounded and cornered.

“I…” he shuddered his back pressing deeper against the back of the chair. “You think this is what I wanted?” he closed his eyes for a brief moment, fighting to keep himself composed, “I don’t want to force you, I don’t want to set out ultimatums, but I don’t have a choice in the matter either.” The Warlord lifted his shirt, the ugly scar starkly visible against his skin, “I survived, the rest of my family didn’t. I have a responsibility to carry on the family bloodline… even if it isn’t what I want. Even if it shouldn’t have been my responsibility in the first place. But Jorgen…”

Thane cut himself off and abruptly pushed himself to his feet. No longer able to contain the nervous energy that was rising within him. For a moment he thought about walking up to Dahlia, but he didn’t, turning away from her instead and walking to the window where he pressed a hand against the glass, welcoming the coolness of the pane against his skin. “You’re a person. Not my pet, not an object. I’m my mother’s son, I hate this almost as much as she would have. And this isn’t what you want either, I understand that. If I could release you from your obligations… release myself, I would. But we don’t get to choose, we don’t live in a fairytale where we all get to be happy in the end,” his hand curled into a fist against the glass. “And we’re marked now. Mates. There is no escape from that,” frustration rose in him, along with the sickening feeling of grief and anger that always came when he thought about Jorgen and the destruction of his family.

He turned towards Dahlia, more emotion swirling in his eyes than there had been in a long time. “What do you want from me, Dahlia? What, exactly, am I supposed to do? I am sorry that you’ve been forced into this situation. But we’re here now and I can’t change what’s expected of us anymore than you can.”
 

Dahlia stood firmly planted where she was, waiting for Thane to answer her. She had expected him to snarl and snap at her for aggressively confronting him. She wasn't going to wilt now. This needed to be settled between them. His words of not wanting to force her or set ultimatums, but that he had no choice caused a bitter laugh to burst out of her. How he went on about hos it was his responsibility to carry on his family's bloodline even if it hadn't originally been his in the first place. A name slipped past, probably the brother who had be the first born heir who longer lived, but that was not going to assuage her anger.

When he got up she stood her ground, even if he came at her she'd resist backing down. Instead he turned away from her which was unexpected, moving to the window. No, she wasn't going to let him just look away from her. He went on to say he wished he could release them from their obligations, going on about how they don't get to live in a fairytale with happy endings, they we mated already and there was no changing that fact.

He turned back towards her and he did she stormed up to him into her personal space. "Don't ask me what I want unless you truly want to know," she huffed out. "I don't need you to explain the obvious. I know very well we're already marked mates and that there is nothing to be done to change that fact. I am not asking you for a fariytail either. I may read romance novels but I'm not blind to reality. What you need to bloody realize is there are still choices despite what has already come to pass. You don't want to force me? Then don't. You don't want to give ultimatums? Then don't. It's that easy."

"As far as the expectations of others. Do you actually care about what others think? Is it so important to you that you meet their expectations? Why does the mighty Warlord give a shit about expectations? If you did you'd be sleeping around with all the men who lust for you because you are probably more than aware that there are expectations. Fuck expectations. I'm not accepting that as an excuse."

"You want to know what I want? I want to be regarded as more than just some tool for the continuation of your bloodline. An equal. This mark on my neck may bind my life to you, but not my heart. You haven't earned me. It is probably too much to bother to ask you to even try since you shield your guilt with reasons such as responsibility."

Dahlia closed her eyes and sighed. Perhaps this conversation was pointless. She went over to his nightstand and took out the book that Thane seemed ashamed of, tossing it onto his bed. "Part of me wondered when I found this if there was even a chance that there was some yearning in your heart to connect with someone. There is nothing shameful about feeling that way. Though you're free to correct me if I have a false impression."

"You've asked me what I want, have you ever asked what you wanted? I don't think you have, but then what do I know of you? I've only known you for a few days and it's cruel to impose my assumptions onto you."
 
Fable Fable

His question hung in the air between them, but only for a moment. In the next, Dahlia was storming up to him, breaking into his personal space like a whirling firestorm. She seemingly had no regard for her own safety, for the fact that if he chose to, he could snap her in two with minimal effort. Or maybe she had already figured out that such a thing went against every instinct within him, that threatening to hurt her was an empty threat. At least physically. Or… she was just too angry to see the danger, that seemed most likely.

She made it sound so easy. As though letting go of expectations, of letting things be, was a perfectly reasonable choice. But was it? Thane was not so sure. She went on about a desire to be equals, about him trying to earn her. There was no room in her diatribe for him to speak a word, so the Warlord listened silently instead.

At last, it seemed that Dahlia was done; closing her eyes and sighing. But, instead of waiting for his answer, the female turned and walked to his nightstand. For a moment, everything within Thane stilled, but at the sight of the familiar cover and her toss of it onto his bed, something began to snap. The rest of what she said hardly registered, his eyes fixed on the cover of The Bonds of a Heart, and when she finally seemed finished with her speech there was mainly anger in his eyes.

“What I want will never happen,” he strode to the bed, ignoring her completely to carefully pick up the book, brushing a hand gently over the cover. Clearly, Dahlia had been mocking him earlier when he had said Laleia’s name—she knew very well where it had come from… because she had been snooping, in spite of his very clear instructions.

“I told you not to go through my things,” he said, his voice low. Suddenly, it was all too much. Too much of a conflict within him between his own values and his sense of duty. Too much that she had disobeyed him and seen the book. Too much that she was asking him for things that she naively thought were simple for him.

Thane dropped the book onto the mattress and rounded on her, the flat of his palm slamming into the wall beside her head. “How can I treat you like an equal when I have no reason to trust you? And what? Should I give my word, something that I consider sacred, to never touch you unless you truly desire it and then have you decide you’ll never accept me?” his voice rushed out in a low growl. “I don’t give a damn about the expectations of others, they can all rot for all I care. But the blood of my mother, the blood of my father, runs through me and I will not let it run out with me.” The flat of his palm against the wall curled into a fist and he gave the wall a small thud, sighing and looking away from Dahlia for a moment to collect himself before catching her eyes again.

“I’d like to treat you as an equal, give you entirely what you want… but I can’t. Just as I can’t have what I want. Six months, that is what we agreed upon,” he stepped away from her then, tucking the book tenderly back into its place within his nightstand. “As for the book… it was my mother’s,” he shot her a withering look, “She read it to me often when I was a boy. I was a foolish child and thought love seemed a marvelous thing…” he tapped a finger on the top of the nightstand and then snorted, “I was young and naïve.”

Thane turned away from her and walked to the table where the stew still sat. He picked up a bowl, lukewarm now, and opened the door to leave. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” there was a faint bitterness in his voice as he said it, a hint of sadness too if Dahlia cared to listen closely.
 

Dahlia sensed the change in his demeanor the moment she exposed that she knew about the book. His voice went low and it felt as though there was a chill in the air and all she could do was get out of his way as fear creeped up her spine, pushing back against her anger at him. She would have corrected him as he had told her to not throw anything of his out, to not go into his study. Dahlia knew saying it though was pointless though.

She backed away instinctively from him as he rounded on her, his palm slamming into the wall her back was pressed against halting further retreat. Dahlia couldn't stop the flinch from the sound of the impact or her thudding heart in her chest. Her lip quivered and she closed her eye tightly as his fist thudded against the wall. She hesitantly opened her eyes only to be caught in his gaze and she wanted to look away, but she needed to hold her ground even if she was scared.

There she remained even as he stepped away to return the book to the nightstand, telling her that it had been his mother's and she had read it to him. She had suspected as much, why would he have kept such a thing otherwise. Her heart hurt and the anger had deflated, but not enough for her to stop herself from saying some final words to the retreating Warlord. "You're a coward because you won't even try."

Dahlia didn't say anything more, she turned away from Thane and went to her room closing the door behind her and sliding down to the floor sobbing, covering her mouth with her hand to try and muffle the sounds. Nothing. Nothing she said would change his mind. She wanted to go home and cry on her grandmother's lap. She couldn't talk to Ilia about this matter or Ilia would suffer for knowing. She had never felt this alone in her life before and it hurt so much.

She had been trying to get along with him and to get to know him. Give him a chance despite her natural inclination to keep her distance as much as she could. She didn't press on painful topics because she had no right to know those things about him unless he wanted her to. She tried to invite him to know her better with her silly guessing game. She latched onto shared interests like a lifeline.

The empty feeling gnawed at her core, pulling at her. It seemed like hours that she had hidden away in her room. She had cried for a long while. Thankfully she had stopped before Ilia had knocked on the door to check on her, asking if she should bring something else for her to eat if she didn't want to eat the untouched stew. Dahlia just dismissed Ilia saying she wasn't hungry, which wasn't a lie. She had no appetite.

There was mild guilt for bringing out the book from Thane's nightstand. Mostly it was due to her tossing the book instead of putting it down gently since it was an item that held importance. She tried to re-summon her anger asking herself why she should be the one to feel bad when it was Thane who was being so stubborn. The anger was brief and left as quickly as it came.

Dahlia didn't want to be here whenever Thane decided to come back. These were his quarters after all. Besides he was probably not going to pester her to share an evening meal after this. So she snuck out of the room and wandered the halls for a brief moment trying to figure out what to do. Eventually she figured she could just get lost in one of the many empty guest rooms and picked one at random. It was just a standard room, nothing opulent. The color scheme was a calming light blue and the decorations were simple.

She laid down on the bed, not wanting to mess up the bedding and forcing a servant to come clean it. What was she going to do now? The only thing she could think of was to avoid Thane as best as she could and those were her last thoughts as she drifted to sleep.

---

Dahlia let out a soft moan the the sunlight invaded the room bring her to her fourth day of being in this place. None of the servants had bothered her which she was grateful for, even if she woke many times during the night. She was hungry, but she didn't want to eat with Thane. She had a vague recollection of how to get to the kitchen and so she cautiously peered out of the room when she cracked open the door checking to see if anyone was around.

Noticing no one she softly closed the door behind her and made sure to note which room it was so she could retreat back to it later. Gloomily she made her way to the kitchen, listening to see if Thane was nearby before entering and greeting Greta with a painfully fake smile. "Morning," she greeted. "I'll just grab my breakfast myself today." She tried to come off as normal even though she was wearing the same dress as yesterday. She hadn't seen Greta yesterday so there was no way she'd figure that out and Dahlia had done her best to straighten out her outfit.

"I just wanted to grab some fruit," she said after clearing her throat, reaching to grab an apple from a fruit bowl. Greta seemed suspicious or perhaps did not approve of such a breakfast because she tried to halt Dahlia's retreat, but Dahlia just said it was enough for her and made a quick exit heading to the conservatory. Arthur was probably there but she was certain giving him a look which dared him to say something to her would make him back off, which was the correct assumption.

He excused himself quickly, muttering something about poisonous plants leaving Dahlia to herself and her pot of soil she had planted the seed in. She took a bite of the apple and absentmindedly traced her finger along the rim of the pot. How long would she be able to keep this up for? "He's stupid," she complained out loud, talking to the planted seed. "And a coward. Rather than bother trying he just rejects it like it's some blasphemous concept."

She took another bite, a bit emboldened by being able to say things she was thinking out loud. "I was trying. Maybe I'm being foolish.... no, he's even more foolish. Oooh, look at me, big tough Warlord scared of trying to see if there was any potential. I don't want to be mean, but I have responsibilities that are blinding me so I'll say sorry and say I understand and then just go right back to reminding you that the only thing that matters is that you have a fertile womb!"

Her lips pursed slightly and her eyes narrowed before she took a large bite. "Oh I'm a coward too hiding out here and talking to plants like I'm mad? Well who am I supposed to talk to then... That's what I thought, there isn't anyone I can talk to. The moment I say anything to anyone he's going to be even more angry for ruining his image. So here I am, talking to plants." She scoffed at herself.
 
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Fable Fable

The Warlord made it halfway down the hall when he realized that he had no appetite. Taking the bowl had been a reflexive action rather than driven by actual hunger and he scowled at it now, changing course for the kitchen. He didn’t want to think very hard on what Dahlia had said, he didn’t want to think at all.

Greta was bustling about, her face flushed from the heat of the stove, but her usual welcoming smile faded when she saw Thane’s expression. “Is--?”

“I’m sorry, Greta, I don’t have much of an appetite this evening. Hopefully you can save the stew,” he interrupted her, not wanting to talk to her—or anyone. So, before she could try getting another word out, he placed the bowl down with a clack onto the nearest table, quickly turned on his heel and strode back out.

Thane didn’t know where he was going until he was standing right in front of the barn. A ride. It always lifted his spirits, let him forget everything for a while. Just him, Laleia and the open skies. He’d spent a great deal of his life on the back of a horse in the middle of nowhere when he was distressed. “You need to learn to deal with conflicts, Thane, not run away from them,” Jorgen’s voice intruded and Thane snarled, mentally waving it away. Jorgen had no right to tell him anything, not after what he’d done. Besides, he wasn’t running from it. He’d told her; six months, the agreed upon time.

He pushed through the barn doors and sighed, wondering why that thought made him feel worse rather than better. Thane had believed that reiterating the deal would give him clarity… even if it further distressed Dahlia. So why did he feel so wretched? Would his answer have been different if she hadn’t angered him by pulling out the book? The Warlord felt an anxious pit open in his stomach: he didn’t know. Which meant there was a chance that it would have.

Laleia put her head over the stall door, ears pricked towards him in a welcoming manner. It drew a strangled smile from Thane, even as he opened the door, pulled her out by her halter, and sprang bareback onto her back. Delaying to tack her up seemed unbearable. The mare was always game for a ride and stepped quickly out of the barn, both horse and rider deaf to Maddock’s worried question about whether everything was alright.

Out in the fresh air, Thane urged her into a gallop, the pair of them racing away from the castle and through the meadows. Birds flushed by the pounding hooves took wing as they thundered past, Thane leaning down over her neck and letting the rush of the wind and the rhythm of her hooves against the ground pull him away. But it only lasted so long.

The Warlord didn’t know how long they’d been riding. All he knew was that Laleia’s sides were slicked with sweat, her chest heaving, and their surroundings were touched by the orange glow of sunset as the sun sank beneath the distant hills while they travelled through the forest bordering the estate. “Woah, girl,” he murmured, tugging lightly on her mane. The mare responded gratefully, slowing to a walk and then eventually coming to a full stop beside a small creek.

Thane dismounted, crouching in the spongy grass beside the creek to cup some water in his hands, splashing it over his face and the back of his neck while Laleia greedily drank. It was refreshing, reinvigorating… and yet didn’t give him quite the same amount of pleasure as it usually did. He sighed and leaned back from the water still in a crouch, resting his forearms on the tops of his thighs. He didn’t know what to do.

“I don’t suppose you have any bright ideas?” he muttered questioningly to the mare. Her only response was to flick an ear in his direction and keep drinking. “Mmhmm, about as helpful as I expected,” he looked up through the trees, their edges outlined in a vibrant orange glow. He knew what his mother would say. Knew what his father would say. And knew what his brothers would say. But they were all dead. Why should he take anything they would have told him as sage counsel? Was there any point in listening to the dead? He sighed and scrubbed at his eyes.

Deep down, he knew the truth, pitiful though it was. He was afraid. Afraid that if he agreed, if he told Dahlia that yes, they were mates, but he would not hold her to their deal, that he would leave her be unless she actually wanted him… she might never want him. What then? Force himself on her anyway? Thane shuddered in revulsion at the thought, knowing that he would never be able to do that. No, instead his bloodline would die out while a perfectly suitable female lived within arms reach for the rest of his pathetic life. If an afterlife existed, his family would be waiting to jeer at him for being so insufferable that he couldn’t even woo his own mate into bed. A small smile sputtered to life at the thought. And if he held Dahlia to the deal? Waited for her at the end of six months when she came to his bed unwilling and miserable, but honour bound to be there? To fulfill her purpose? His family would never forgive him. Not for treating her like that… and, honestly, he didn’t know if he’d be able to forgive himself either.

Thane rocked back on his heels and pushed himself to his feet, mind distant as he turned to walk back in the direction they had come from. Laleia looked up from where she’d begun grazing, trotting after him more like a dog than a horse as he moved farther along. Thane waited for her to fall into step beside him and then absently curled an arm underneath her head to scratch her cheek in the way she liked. Dusk was settling over the forest, the shadows swallowing them up as the moon prepared to stand sentinel for the night. The pair came just out of the trees and Thane flopped down onto his back in the grass with a sigh, Laleia looking at him questioningly for a moment before beginning to graze on the grass near him.

High above him the stars twinkled as they always did. Cold and beautiful. Thane had two options: betray the values of his family and his own principles, for the sake of guaranteeing the continuation of his bloodline… or, actively court Dahlia and try to win her over. He groaned noisily and threw an arm over his eyes. Courting her. It would be utterly pathetic. The mighty Warlord, trying to win over his own mate. And yet… slowly, he uncovered his eyes again, peering up at the stars with his brows furrowed. Would it really be any different than formulating a battle plan for a campaign against the humans? The reference material would be different, trading in Vorlith’s Military Exploits for Two Souls as One, but the principle was the same, wasn’t it? Perhaps he was looking at this wrong. He was a mighty Warlord, a handsome one at that. And Dahlia was right; he didn’t give a shit about anyone else’s expectations.

She had called him a coward as he had been leaving, and she had been right. But Thane had tenacity and stubbornness on his side, if he didn’t then he never would have accrued as much power as he had. He also had never lost a battle before. So… if Dahlia wanted him to win her over properly, why not? Provided he approached it with an appropriate strategy, she wouldn’t stand a chance. All the problems would be resolved. A smirk crossed his lips. He could be charming, surely. His mother had given him a taste for those damnable novels after all, what more did he need?

* * *​

Thane had woken just before daybreak, having fallen asleep sometime in the night following hours of silent plotting. He had hopped onto Laleia’s back, riding her to the barn where he spent the next hour or so brushing her down until her coat was sleek. With that accomplished he had two goals: the first was breakfast as he was ravenous, and the other was to begin wooing Dahlia. He also likely needed a bath, from the way Maddock had looked at him it was likely that bits of grass, twigs, and dirt made him look less a Warlord and more a peasant farmer. On second thought, probably better to do that before seeing Dahlia, looking a mess was not a good way to start if his romance novels had taught him anything.

Entering through the conservatory, Thane nearly jumped out of his skin when the first thing he heard was Dahlia’s voice. He had missed the beginning of her rant, coming in somewhere around “no, he’s even more foolish,” followed by what Thane could only assume was an attempt at impersonating him. In spite of knowing that he should sneak back out and go around, the Warlord couldn’t resist listening, too amused to do anything else.

As he silently listened, the overriding thought he had was that this female certainly had a mouth on her. He had his work cut out for him, most likely, though giving her what she wanted was probably a good first step. All the same, her final answer to the conversation she was having with herself about her being a coward—Thane surmised that it was his doppelganger in her mind who had called her one in the first place—made him snort, and he quickly tried covering it with a cough, knowing he couldn’t continue to eavesdrop now.

Instead, clearing his throat, Thane stepped into her line of sight, trying to keep his voice deep and thoroughly masculine while speaking quickly so she wouldn’t interject. “I’ve decided to release you from the deal,” he tried for an alluring smirk, “I’ll win you over myself, well before six months has passed,” it seemed a grand enough statement to leave her with, so he began to stride past her for the door to the inside of the castle… the image marred somewhat by the dirt and debris that clung to his back.
 

Dahlia perked up when she heard a noise, a very person-like, non-animal noise and her cheeks turned bright red as she assumed someone had been snooping and listening to her talk to her little seed. The only person who was that stupid had to be Arthur. So when Thane was stepping into view she chucked the partially eaten apple at him, "Arthur you're getting the shea- OH SHIT!" She slapped her hands over her mouth as she cussed very loudly when she realized it had been Thane. Her eyes went wide and her face went pale and the apple whooshed past Thane harmlessly to thud behind him.

She turned to flee, nearly tripping over her feet but managing to stay up right, taking two steps and then stopping as she processed what he had just said to her. Dahlia has to have misheard him. There was no way that Thane had actually said that. She furrowed her brows and looked at Thane as if suspecting he was really there and had really spoken to her. Had she possible really lost her mind?

Her lips parted as she tried to open her mouth to say something, then closed as Thane walked past her towards the door. He looked like he had gotten into a fight with a tree in his current state, his back covered in dirt and other debris. She stood there completely dumbfounded by this sudden change. Dahlia had expected the next time she saw Thane he was going to still be livid over her touching the book in his nightstand and for confronting him.

Instead he was smiling at her weirdly. Saying he was going to release her from their deal and win her over before six months. She was fearful is she questioned his words that he'd take them back and so she kept her mouth shut and just stared confused at his retreating back. She looked at the pot, "I'm just as confused as you are."

Dahlia picked up the plant, she was using it as an excuse now to go back inside because she had said she was going to put it in Thane's room. He already had a head start to his rooms and had gone to pick up the apple she had thrown. It was ruined now of course, covered in dirt, but it hadn't damaged any plants. She went to the kitchen to toss it into the garbage pail and Greta gave her a questioning look.

"D-Don't ask," Dahlia sighed as the women looked about ready to assault her with questions. The last thing she heard was Greta muttering something under her breath about troublesome young dragons.

She hesitated when she read the bedroom doors, cautiously going in and setting the pot down on the floor by the window. Maybe she should leave. He hadn't actually said that, right? He had been so stubborn on the topic there was no way he suddenly changed his mind like that. He had been so angry with her too. Dahlia's eyes went over to the nightstand where the forbidden book was hidden. She'd never read it herself and she was curious about what type of romance novel it actually was to keep his interest. His mother probably had other novels too, but what was special in particular about that one?

No, she needed to focus. She lighted tapped her cheeks to bring her back to what Thane had said. And for about fifteen minutes she managed to wait courageously before her nerves got the best of her and Dahlia decided perhaps she should sneak away while she could. It had to be a trap. There was no way he changed his mind. She'd go to her room and hide, he wouldn't look for her in such an obvious place right?

Hiding was stupid. She was just going to wait for him to finish his bath, ask him what the hell he had been doing all night to come back in that state. Demand he repeat what he had said and ask if he was taunting her or being serious. The moment he entered the room she would confront him. So when he finally did enter the room she spoke out in a flustered manner, "Y-YOU!" - too loud - "D-Did you mean what you said or are you just taunting me?"
 
Fable Fable

The further through the castle Thane went, the better he felt about everything and the more certain he was that this was the right decision. A weight had lifted from his shoulders, realizing that the root of the problem was how he’d been looking at the situation all along. Besides, it had been Dahlia who had essentially pushed for this. For him to “try” earning her. He was simply giving her what she wanted.

Thane chuckled to himself and slipped through the doors into their rooms, making a beeline for the bath. He stripped quickly, stepping into the water and methodically going over every part of himself to ensure all the dirt was scrubbed away. He wasn’t overly fastidious with cleanliness, normally, but stinking of sweat and being covered in dirt was decidedly not a part of a successful courtship. And, if he knew anything about this female, he had an inkling that she wouldn’t be able to keep away after he’d made a statement like that. Even if she had thrown an apple at him.

He was just about to pull on a pair of clean pants—Roarke always left a fresh pair for him in the baths—when he paused. He’d taken his time with the bath, giving Dahlia ample time to get to their rooms. Odds were, she was already out there, frothing at the mouth over wanting him to confirm or deny what he had said. So, perhaps pants were the less effective option considering his new goals.

Humming thoughtfully to himself, Thane wrapped the towel low around his waist instead. It wasn’t unreasonable for him to ‘forget,’ that she might be there and walk out like this. Just as he’d legitimately forgotten a shirt the other day.
Ensuring the towel wouldn’t slip off (he didn’t think Dahlia was ready for that image to be burned in her brain) the Warlord sauntered out of the bath and back into their rooms, his long dark hair still damp and hanging loosely about his shoulders.

Sure enough, Dahlia was standing there. Thane had to stifle a laugh at the overloud volume of her voice as she spluttered at him in a flustered manner about whether he had meant what he’d said. “I did mean it,” he said, stepping closer to her… though not in a threatening manner this time, “We’ll play another little game in tandem with your guessing one—only this game I fully intend to win, and sooner rather than later.” He chuckled and brushed past her, walking towards the window and inspecting the pot she had left there, “You’re free to surrender to me at any time.”

A thought occurred to him and the Warlord turned from the pot to look at her, his expression growing more serious. “In company, of course, we have to play the part of proper mates, things could grow dangerous otherwise,” a female being untouched was relatively unheard of and considering how he had taken her away from a prince… well, rumours of their mateship being unconsummated would be dangerous for both of them. “In addition, I’d still ask for at least the evening meal to be taken together,” at the mention of food his stomach growled, and he grimaced a little. It was occurring to him again that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast the previous day. "Beyond that," he said, trying to ignore his hunger, "I intend to give you what you want and 'earn' you properly... as an equal."
 

Bright amber eyes widened when Dahlia saw that Thane had entered the room with nothing but a towel on. Her first reaction was to quickly look away to anywhere but where he was and her gaze landed on the bed and she mentally slapped herself and averted her gaze to stare studiously at a plant. Her cheeks were hot and she cursed herself for blushing at his state of undress. She'd seen her brothers sauntering around so it was nothing new and yet she was affected and it bothered her greatly.

She couldn't help but turn her gaze back towards him as he stepped closer to her. While he may not have been trying to be threatening, she took an automatic step back as what could only be described as a 'danger sense' ran through her. The closer his proximity like this the more flustered she got and he was clearly enjoying her reaction. She needed to get over this, face him head on and show him she wasn't going to be so easily affected by him wearing nearly nothing.

It was a good mental speech that went utterly nowhere.

As he went past her saying she could surrender to him at any time her stupid little heart skipped a beat and she mentally raged at the betrayal of the organ. Dahlia nearly blurted out that if anyone was going to surrender it was going to be him, but she held it in when her brain slapped her with how that would turn out. Thane would probably surrender unconditionally because she had basically said 'two can play this game' and that would have been a huge mistake.

When Thane's normal serious expression returned she actually felt some relief. She wasn't exactly sure what was dangerous about them not exactly following mateship protocol. "F-Fine," she answered. "Wait, you better be clothed for any meals we eat," she warned. "And don't expect me to surrender. You're talking like you've already won. Walking around in a towel isn't something that is going to help you." That was a bald faced lie but like hell she was going to admit such a thing and feed his damn ego. He clearly knew he was attractive and was going to flaunt that to lure her in and she absolutely refused to lured in by such tactics.

"I-I'm going," she announced, leaving the room and trying to appear unbothered and calm while mentally trying to wrap her head around what had happened to Thane and if he had been replaced by a changeling or something.

Dahlia's goal was to get something to eat and put some distance between herself and Thane. He wasn't going to follow after her in his towel around the estate so she had enough time perhaps to beg Greta for some food to-go and then hide somewhere. When she had imagined Thane trying to earn her as an equal this was not what she had expected. Honestly she didn't know what to expect because this wasn't some romance novel and Thane was not some sappy over-dramatic romantic type, which wasn't her type either since those characters in the book tended to make her cringe with overdone romantic overtures.

It seemed Greta was working on lunch when Dahlia crept in and Greta quickly lifted a ladle and pointed it at her, "Not this time missy. Ilia told me you skipped lunch and dinner and an apple isn't going to sustain you. You are eating lunch and I'm going to make sure of it."

Dahlia laughed nervously and went to sit at the wooden table in the kitchen that Greta pointed at with her 'weapon.' It wasn't stew this time but pork with seasonal vegetables. Greta set down two plates and Dahlia wondered if the elderly cook was going to sit down with her to eat, but the woman just set down utensils on the table for two people and went back to her tasks of kneading dough. Dahlia thanked Greta for the meal and began to eat and wondered if the other plate set out was for Thane or someone else.

The food was wonderfully seasoned and the pork greatly helped to fill her mostly empty stomach. She wondered if the vegetables came from the estate's own gardens, which was likely but she hadn't fully explored enough to verify. "I haven't had a chance to inquire on the types of foods you like, being busy and all with..." Greta began clearly implying that Dahlia and Thane had been busy doing mate things.

Dahlia's head sunk slightly as she just laughed awkwardly, "I-I like most things I supposed. I don't really care for squash though and I prefer to eat something lighter in the morning."
 
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Fable Fable

Between the initial widening of Dahlia’s eyes, her quickly averted gaze, and the blush that rose to her cheeks he knew the low-slung towel had exactly the effect he had hoped for. That was a good sign. If she’d been able to look at him in so excessive a state of undress without any reaction, he would have had his work cut out for him. Attraction, willing or otherwise, was the base for every successful romantic overture—at least, according to the novels he had read.

The male feigned surprise when Dahlia insisted that he be fully clothed during meals, “Oh? I apologize, I knew I had forgotten something,” but lying wasn’t his strongest point and he couldn’t help but chase the statement with a wicked grin. “I’m yet to lose a battle, I don’t intend for this to be the first,” he said simply when she said he shouldn’t expect her to surrender, “And I’ll do my best to remember not to walk around in a towel,” but he fully intended to do this again at some opportune moment. It had gotten the reaction from her that he had wanted, which meant it would be added to his ‘winning Dahlia’ strategies. Everything in moderation though, overuse a strategy and your enemy learned to adapt to it.

Dahlia seemingly couldn’t tolerate any more and fled. Thane waited till he was sure she was well out of earshot before snorting out a burst of rich laughter. He was still chuckling as he walked to his dresser and picked out some clothes—this time choosing a dark maroon shirt with a deep V that would show off a handsome portion of his chest and a pair of black pants that Greta had teasingly complimented him about. Something about it giving him a ‘good ass.’ As he cheerfully pulled them on it dawned on him that this was, perhaps, the first time he’d actually had “fun” since his family had been killed. He was out of practice with the emotion, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. Still, he’d have to be careful. He had an image to maintain, no one outside of the castle could learn what he was doing here.

His stomach was still complaining loudly as he got ready, so once Thane was dressed, he left for the kitchen. The closer he got, the more mouth-watering the scents became. Pork, if he guessed right, a specialty of Greta’s—particularly good at this time of year when she was spoiled for choice with fresh herbs and vegetables from the expansive gardens.

The Warlord was nearly whistling when he entered the kitchen, speaking even before he had rounded the corner through the door, “It smells delicious, Greta, what--?” he paused when he saw Dahlia tucked into one of the seats around the wooden table, a plate of food set before her, mostly eaten already. “Ah, Dahlia, worked up an appetite?” The cook jutted her cheek out towards him, and he dutifully kissed it before sitting down in the seat opposite Dahlia. It was a traditional apology given whenever he didn’t eat the food she’d made for him—this time the apology kiss being for the previous day’s stew.

“Don’t tease the poor female, M’lord,” Greta chided gently, jabbing the ladle at him.

“My apologies,” he said, not at all sincerely, practically salivating as the cook filled his plate and set it back in front of him. It took every ounce of his self-control, but Thane managed to restrict himself to using fork AND knife to eat the pork—rather than just jabbing the fork into it and eating it like that. The speed with which he ate was still a bit horrifying, but the Warlord was trying a little at least.

“So, what are your intentions for the day, after you’ve finished eating?” he asked Dahlia, making himself look up at her instead of remaining laser-focused on his meal. Thane tried for a charming smile, though he wasn’t sure if he succeeded. “Perhaps you’d like to visit Levent? I could give you a riding lesson,” that seemed something suitably romantic—or at least, an activity well suited to the romance novels which he was basing his pursuit of her on.

Greta snorted from where she was kneading dough, earning a quick glare at the back of her head from Thane before he turned back to Dahlia.
 

Greta might be a useful ally against Thane based on their interaction. The woman was quick to tell him to not tease her and they seemed close. Perhaps she'd find some way to earn the woman to her side of this 'battle' as Thane put it. Honestly, as much as this change in Thane was worrisome and overwhelming she found herself slightly amused at the challenge. He still hadn't picked a prize for the guessing game and said she could pick it, would he retract that statement if she brought it up? She was curious if he would and if he wanted to choose a prize what it would be. She'd have to set some ground rules though because otherwise he might have her strut around naked.

When Thane attempted a charming smile at her she burst out laughing to the point of tears and having to hold her sides. He had no table manners which meant chewing was a new concept for him, so when he had smiled he had so much food in is teeth. Dahlia fanned her face and then tried to explain between giggles that he had food in his teeth, but each time she tried she burst out laughing again. Eventually she just flailed for Greta and pointed to Thane and then her mouth and to his trying to relay what she wanted to say.

"Boy, if you're going to smile best make sure you've chew properly. No Lady is going to be charmed by your feral eating habits," Greta lectured Thane with a large grin, enjoying the scene.

It took Dahlia five minutes to calm down enough to answer Thane's question, even then there a few soft giggles as the image of that smile returned to the front of her mind. "My original intention was to avoid you for the entire day," she answered honestly, using the back of her hand to wipe the tears of laughter from her cheeks. The moment she said it she slapped her hand across her mouth and glanced at Greta. Oops.

"J-Just kidding," she awkwardly added. She couldn't have the conversation she wanted to here. "A riding lesson is fine with me," she said with a little resignation. She would have preferred to talk about what had spurred this mood change, but that meant Greta would overhear them. That left her with little choice but to agree to Thane's offer to keep up with the act he had requested. She could just speak to him during their lesson.

Dahlia finished the food on her plate seeing as she skipped two meals yesterday and she was very hungry. She thanks Greta for the lovely meal headed off to the barn with Thane (who most likely finished before she was done). Dahlia wasn't going to bring up the topic since there was a potential person who could eavesdrop; Maddock. The moment they were left to their own devices though Dahlia quickly turned and pointed at Thane, "What has gotten into you exactly? Are you... is this a drunk version of yourself. Did you drink so much after that argument that you are being like this?"

She motioned to his being as though that would help explain what she meant. "Yesterday you were upset with me, really upset. Then in the gardens you literally saunter in and act like everything is fine. Y-You're mocking me, aren't you?"
 
Fable Fable

When Dahlia began laughing at his smile, Thane was momentarily put out—but only momentarily. Her laughter was contagious and filled the kitchen warmly. He shot Greta a questioning look, but she was busy grinning at the scene and didn’t catch his eye… perhaps wanting to remain unobtrusive and not interrupt their moment.

It was only when Dahlia waved desperately at the cook to explain and she obliged her that Thane’s smile shifted into a half-frown. “Ah, yes… I didn’t think of that,” he ran his tongue over his teeth and indeed found plenty of gristle and other morsels there. “My… apologies,” he managed, but it was difficult to say it without smiling as the female still was caught in a giggle-fit. He couldn’t really be that sorry when she reacted like this.

In her hysteria it seemed that Dahlia forgot to mind her tongue, answering his question with full honesty. Greta arched an eyebrow at it, but the female quickly tried to cover it up with a weak attempt at pretending it was a joke. Thane didn’t intend to keep things a secret from the servants any longer (he had no intentions of being subtle with Dahlia so it stood to reason that the servants should know what was going on—at least Greta and Roarke) but he didn’t bother clarifying at this juncture. There would be time enough for that later.

“Excellent!” he said instead when she agreed to the riding lesson. Greta was looking between them thoughtfully, but he ignored her for the time being.

Maddock had happily introduced himself to Dahlia, a friendly dragon by all accounts with a cheerful way about him, but having caught more than a few meaningful glares from Thane he eventually got the point that his presence was unwelcome in the barn and excused himself. Something about ‘checking on the yearlings’ though Thane knew this was merely an invented excuse. Most likely he’d grab his flask of whiskey and hunker down somewhere in one of the paddocks until the two of them were gone.

Naturally, the instant Maddock was gone, Dahlia whirled on him with an avalanche of questions. He couldn’t blame her; it was quite the sudden change.

“I’m not mocking you at all,” he said calmly, having suspected that these questions would be coming sooner rather than later. “In truth, I spent the bulk of the night awake—thinking about what you said,” he leaned against the nearest support post and crossed his arms over his chest. “It occurred to me that you’re right: I don’t give a shit about anyone else’s expectations. And, I’m a Warlord, not a coward. If I’m opposed to forcing you into consummation then the simplest solution is to change your mind, not to go against my own values and force you anyways,” he offered her a charming smirk, “Of course, this doesn’t change the fact that I’d very much like to consummate the relationship, it simply changes the means by which I intend to pursue that,” he studied her carefully. “We’re mates, our lives are bound together—as you said yesterday—and that gives me a lifetime to convince you… which is a very long time.”

Thane stepped away from the pillar towards her, stopping a little further back than he had earlier, curious to see what the minimal acceptable distance between them was for her, “I’m still displeased with the fact that you went through my nightstand and tossed The Bonds of a Heart so carelessly onto my bed, but it doesn’t change my intentions—I’m going to win you over and you’re going to surrender to me. Maybe not today, tomorrow, or even in a few months… but you will,” he did his best to hide a smile by turning away from her and walking to Laleia’s stall, “It was your own idea, wasn't it? You ought to be pleased.”
 

Dahlia sputtered for a moment. She had been waiting for him ti admit it was a farce and he was just toying with her to prove some weird illogical point. Instead here Thane was saying he wasn't mocking her and that he'd spend the night awake thinking about what she had said to him. So, he had actually listened and thought about her words? Dahlia was still in survival mode right now even as he said this because she had been so certain he was still angry with her.

She narrowed her eyes at him when he commented how he would like to consummate the relationship. Hadn't this original just been just a means to an end for him? It had seemed like he previously only wanted to consummate the mateship out of necessity rather than any interest. There was no way that suddenly changed and she let out an exasperated sigh as she was going to have to ask him what exactly he was thinking because she was confused as ever.

When he brought up the book a guilty expression crept over her featured and she nervously tapped her index fingers together, "Sorry." It was low and clearly somewhat reluctant of an apology. "I was upset and I had suspected it might have been from your mother, but at the same time I wasn't sure so I roughly handled the book."

"B-But," she said in a stronger voice, "I know it was my idea but I have to wonder if..." Dahlia trailed off. Did she want to have this conversation with him? "I guess ultimately it doesn't matter for you whether you actually like me or not as long as you get what you want." This was mostly said to herself, but Thane couldn't expect to just win her over with physical appeal and attempts with charm. If he was doing this as a way to just get what he wants without actually trying to see if he could feel anything towards her, wouldn't it just be cruel unrequited love?

"You can't just think empty gestures are going to do anything," she finally said to him directly. He probably wouldn't understand, but he can't say she didn't at least try. "It's like how you don't trust me and I don't expect you to since I sort of snooped into your nightstand, but it was the only place I had snooped... well that and I kind of... went in the men's lounge because I thought it was funny. B-But other than that I've left your things along. Trust needs to be a mutual thing."
 
Fable Fable

The apology that Dahlia offered him for touching his book and going through his nightstand felt reluctant. That didn’t mean it wasn’t genuine, but it was more difficult for him to take it at face value when the words seemed to be pulled from her rather than offered freely. Worse, the fact that she admitted that she had suspected it might belong to his mother but had still handled it roughly made it difficult for him to remain calm. He stroked Laleia’s muzzle, carefully ensuring he wasn’t facing the female because he wasn’t sure how composed his face was.

Fortunately, Dahlia carried on ahead with her little speech and the more she said the more distracted he became until the anger was only a distant burning in the back of his mind. Her final note, that she had also gone into the men’s lounge, actually earned a snort and he slowly pivoted back around to face her.

“You’re attractive. Physically, I like you just fine,” he realized, too late, that admitting something like that so openly was not normally the standard route in romance novels. Females liked to believe the males had been won over initially by something asinine like ‘the sparkle of their eyes’ or ‘the intelligent way they comported themselves.’ All of it was inane babble, of course, invented by female authors even though the first thing any male actually noticed was how attractive they found the female. Still, admitting it didn’t do him any favours and Thane cursed himself internally for not censoring himself quick enough. “And, of course, I’m sure that with time I’ll come to appreciate all the other aspects of who you are,” he added, thinking that this came across appropriately.

It wasn’t really a lie, either. He did like to think that in time he would grow to like her for more than just her appearance and the way her mannerisms amused him at times. He just didn’t think that was a necessary part of things. Still, it seemed as though Dahlia differed in her opinion on that point and as the name of the game was to win her… well, knowing thy enemy was the first step to defeating them.

“I don’t understand what you mean by empty gestures,” he said at last, deciding that was the primary point upon which he needed clarity. “As for trust… it needs to be earned. At present, I am more trustworthy than you. I’ve been consistent and kept my word, it was you who—” he paused, able to feel the irritation he had pushed down seeping through the cracks to try poisoning his words and knowing he needed to stop it. Thane blew out a long sigh through his nose, looking away from her as he did so, and then turned back to look at her again once he felt a touch calmer, “Well, that isn’t important, it’ll come with time,” this was said in a mutter, more to himself than to her.

In spite of the attempt at a calming breath, the quiver of irritation was beginning to rise again. She didn’t want him to lay out ultimatums, but now that he was trying to go the route that she had asked for, Dahlia was acting equally reticent. Females. He didn’t understand them. Formulating a strategy to deal with her was going to be a chore… worth it, in the end, but that didn’t make it any less tedious now. “Tell me then, Dahlia, how do you want me to woo you?” it was worth a try. If she had an answer, he could tailor his courtship of her to fit that—it was a fair bit better than shooting in the dark and hoping one of his advances would hit its mark.
 

When Thane admitted he found her physically attractive and that he liked her 'just fine' she shook her head. At least he seemed somewhat like his previous self. If he had actually given her a real compliment about herself beyond that she wasn't ugly she might have really thought he had lost his mind. He quickly added on that he might over time find some other quality he liked about her and she just stared at him with a neutral expression.

He asked what she had meant by empty gestures and Dahlia tried to come up with a way to explain it to him so even as thickheaded as he was he could possibly understand. Of course his temper flared once more as he brought up this had been her idea and then stopped himself. Well, he was working on controlling himself, though all that did was encourage Dahlia's desire to tease him to rile him up and get a reaction.

"Empty gestures sounds exactly as it means. You do something without any meaning behind it and just doing it for the sake of obtaining what you want. When you first offered me riding lessons that wasn't an empty gesture because you seemed to actually wanted to. Making false promises or doing something for someone with the intention of gaining something in their favor. For example, agreeing to try to earn someone just to benefit themselves. Everything that person does towards achieving that goal is insincere; empty."

"As for how I want to be woo-ed," she began, thinking on if she should bother to explain since Dahlia felt what Thane was doing was nothing but to get what he wanted. She was tempted to use a silly scene from a romance novel where a princess set forth a challenge for her suitors which were impossible to actually complete. Oh how it was so tempting, but she didn't know what exactly Thane was capable of or how far he was willing to go to reach his goal.

"Be genuine," Dahlia finally answered. It wasn't exactly cryptic and it was ultimately what she wanted.
 
Fable Fable

A burgeoning frown grew across his face as she spoke, wrinkles appearing between his eyes as he tried to make sense of it. But he couldn’t, not really. “That’s illogical,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning slightly at her, his attempts at courtship set aside for the time being as he attempted to deal with this logical fallacy. “Pursuing a goal does not inherently make a gesture insincere—everything that everyone does is part of a larger purpose they’re attempting to achieve. By your metric nothing would ever be genuine.”

Thane looked her over, sighing softly and pushing a hand back through his still-damp hair. “Our actions are complex, the motivations driving them even more so. Just because I have a final goal in mind does not mean that the methods I use are used insincerely,” he shook his head slowly, “Everything we do comes back to some root desire we selfishly wish to fulfill. Even the characters in those ridiculous books… they desire love because they’re lonely and pursue it because they wish to fulfill their own selfish desire to assuage that loneliness. It’s worse, in fact, because they’re picky and will impose this desire onto whichever person satisfies their internal rubric for an acceptable mate, it isn’t unconditional or noble,” he blew out a loud and disparaging snort, “The furthest thing from genuine you can imagine… although, really, how can anything even be genuine?” he was verging into highly philosophical discussions and cleared his throat a little awkwardly.

“I apologize, I’m getting off track and I’m sure you don’t want to hear it,” he muttered, looking away from her. In essence what Dahlia was saying was that—if nothing else—he needed to appear genuine to her. The trouble was, Thane had no idea how to do that… not least because she seemed to have already decided that he wasn’t being genuine even though, as far as he was concerned, he was.

“What does genuine mean to you, exactly?” he asked her with another small sigh. “Do you wish for me to ‘bare my soul’ and regale you with the sorry stories of my life? Should I do whatever it is that I like? Because I don’t think you’d enjoy that,” really, the more he spoke the more Thane felt he should just do whatever it was he thought made the most sense and everything else be damned. He wasn’t even convinced that Dahlia knew what she wanted. How could she? The instant she’d come of age to be mated she had been—to him.

“Or, perhaps, we can abandon this conversation entirely and just carry on with the riding lesson,” he offered.
 

And Thane just like that called it all illogical and internally she began to think he'd never understand. As much as she could ever try he just wouldn't. "No, pursuing a goal doesn't make things insincere. If I had a goal to make a friend I would do things to try to achieve that, but I would do things with sincerity in my actions. I wouldn't try to be their friend out of responsibility or duty or some personal gain. I would simply want to actually be their friend. Can you say the same for yourself right now? What is driving your actions towards me? Is it just to achieve your goal to continue your bloodline or do you actually want to try and see if something more is even possible? Am I just something to be conquered? How are are you willing to go to achieve this goal, enough to lie? Cheat? Trick?"

Dahlia couldn't help but smile when Thane had gone on about romance novels, "Oh, seems you've read quite a few then if you are capable of such an analysis of the characters. Listen to what you just said. 'It’s worse, in fact, because they’re picky and will impose this desire onto whichever person satisfies their internal rubric for an acceptable mate, it isn’t unconditional or noble ' Sounds a bit like a Warlord who took a mate because it satisfied his need to continue his bloodline, his 'internal rubric for an acceptable mate'. 'The furthest thing from genuine you can imagine.'"

"And do continue, I'm curious on your thoughts exactly. As far as what i consider to be genuine... I don't want you to tell me anything you don't want to. When you do because you want to tell me, that is what I would consider genuine." She paused though because she wasn't sure how to respond to him saying she wouldn't enjoy him doing whatever he liked. She wasn't sure if that meant he would just ignore what he had just said about trying to earn her and do as he pleased with her or something else.

"Maybe I should ask this, do you think I'm being genuine with you?" she casually approached Thane even though there was a slight concern she might be pushing him too far into a conversation he wasn't comfortable with. "Do you think I am deceiving you in any of my actions? I know you're upset about the book and I am sorry, but I just wanted to tease you for a bit since you wanted to hide that you had read such a book and I thought it would fluster you. A silly, childish desire I admit. And you're probably going to be even more upset with me over it, but it's the truth."

Dahlai was within two feet of him and looking up at him directly now. "As far as what being genuine to me is... it's hard to explain where I think you'd understand. Instead I'll just ask you a question. Do actually want to love someone?"
 
Fable Fable

Thane actually flushed; the tips of his ears turning especially red as Dahlia threw back his own words at him. Through a scowl he flicked his gaze away from her, wanting to deny it but knowing that he had done exactly the same thing he was scoffing at the protagonists of those novels for. Of course, he hadn’t seen taking a mate in that light and wouldn’t quite frame it the same way, but that was mostly an excuse, wasn’t it? If she was right, she was right and all the justification in the world wouldn’t change that.

As she continued pushing the conversation, he felt his hackles begin to rise but oddly when she moved closer to him, he felt the abrasive desire to escape the discussion fade somewhat. She was barely two feet away from him, staring up with her delicate features and bright amber eyes. His fingers twitched with an impulsive desire to touch her hair, but he managed to refrain, curling the digits into fists instead.

“I… haven’t given wanting to love someone any thought,” he said a little reluctantly and then sighed, “Well, no, that isn’t entirely true. When I was younger I used to imagine loving a female someday but,” he shifted his weight, feeling awkward even remembering it, “But that was a long time ago, it’s been many years since I’ve even had an opportunity to think of such things.” Frankly, Thane wasn’t sure he knew what it even meant to love someone else. Respect, care, protection… those were things he knew and understood, but love? He wasn’t so sure. How did it differ from the companionship and affection of Greta? Or the pleasure he took in Laleia’s company? Did it differ? But he knew the answer to that question: yes, of course it did. Romantic love was something different, but he had never experienced it himself and—entertaining though he found them—the romance novels he read did not seem to him to be a realistic picture of what that meant.

Forgetting to keep his hands curled into fists, his disobedient fingers moved to brush ever so lightly across her cheek before he dropped them to his side and sighed. “I do think you’re genuine, possibly painfully so. Keeping your thoughts to yourself—even when it’s prudent—does not seem your strong suit,” a small smile twitched the corners of his mouth up, “And it should probably irritate me but I find it endearing in spite of myself,” he couldn’t really be more honest than that and it worked out to a genuine compliment.

“I don’t understand ‘love’ or what any of it entails,” he added, “But I suppose I can try to learn, for your sake,” he made a face following that, “That sounded less pathetic in my head… Oh, and your discovery of the book would have flustered me… but you showed your hand too soon and now you have nothing to embarrass me with any longer, I suppose that works out to a point in my favour,” he smirked at her a little. Perhaps if he treated her more like how he had treated his brothers he would figure out the rest in time. And in the meanwhile, he would continue his research on courtship. He would just need to be more subtle in the execution since anything flamboyant would seemingly be classified as disingenuous by her.
 
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