So…I got bored waiting for the sequel to Path of Radiance..
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, but I do own the ideas not relating to the original storyline..
Cool, black eyes surveyed the crowded ballroom in the capital of Begnion. A year had passed since the Great War, and not much had changed. Beasts were still tactless, hawks arrogant, and dragons unplottable. These same eyes crinkled in the corners as their owner smirked delightedly. Everyone had returned for the year anniversary of King Ashnard's defeat, and he planned on making some changes. A young heron princess had become the object of his not-so-innocent affections soon after her discovery in Serenes Forest.
He absently brought a thin hand up to finger the silver chain round his neck. She had gifted him with a token of appreciation after he had rescued her from that horrid tower. He had received her treasure, her mother's necklace, and a chaste kiss. Her innocence had only served to fuel the desire that coursed through him. He had been preparing the whole year, and he was finally ready to whisk her away to his haven.
As he continued the search for his future mate, his eyes fell upon a rather delectable morsel. A beorc boy had caught his eye, a very pretty beorc boy with enchanting red eyes. He watched them glaze over as the boy scowled back at him. If he was not so intent on ensnaring his lovely princess, he would have made haste in marking some territory, provided the boy was so inclined. He smirked. Even if the boy was not so interested, he was quite confident in his powers of persuasion.
The boy continued to scowl at him deliciously, and he could contain himself no longer. He slowly pushed himself from the wall he was leaning against, and lazily sauntered over.
"You have most unusual eyes for a beorc."
This only caused the boy's scowl to deepen. "What do you want, crow king?"
Naesala's smirk widened. "I see you know me, but I cannot claim to know you."
"Of course I know you," He replied chagrined. "You've almost killed me on several occasions."
"Really?" Naesala inquired curiously. "I'm quite sure I would have remembered such a lovely looking beorc.
"I highly doubt it." He replied shortly. As he stood, still looking rather grim, the boy pushed the black bangs from his eyes. This provided his guest with a view of the strange red symbol adorning his forehead.
Naesala's grin turned feral. "Ah, I see you're ashamed. There's really no need to be boy. Half-breed or no, I still find you highly desirable." He chuckled as the boy's eyes widened.
"I don't know what you're talking about." The boy snarled in response.
"Don't try to hide from me, little one; I've seen many half-breeds in my day."
With every step he advanced closer, and the boy moved farther away until he hit the ballroom wall.
Naesala trailed a hand down his jaw as he stared at him intently. "Tell me little mage, what is your name?"
The boy looked at him slightly dazed, but replied in a steady tone. "Soren." A fire suddenly appeared in his eyes, and his next sentence came out rather haughty. "Now, if you don't want to lose any appendages any time soon, I'd suggest removing your hand from my person."
Naesala felt the odd tingling on his neck, and turned to look into familiar burning blue eyes. It was another beorc man, a very handsome beorc man. "It's a pity you're spoken for little mage, I could've given you everything."
Soren's eyes sparkled at the proposition, but he remained silent.
Naesala smiled mischievously. "Might I have something to remember you by?" He moved in even closer, and saw the immediate panic in Soren's eyes.
Soren scowled. "I wouldn't do anything funny if I were you."
"Ah, and let us thank the goddess that you aren't."
Before Soren could reply he was abruptly cut off by Naesala's lips on his own. He started to struggle, but the passion in the kiss soon overwhelmed him, and he was forced immobile. As Soren began to lean into the kiss, Naesala went still and smirked against his mouth.
"It would seem, little mage, that your master is calling."
Soren wiggled out of his strong grasp and saw what had Naesala so stiff. The source for the retreat of Naesala's delicious ministrations was Stefan, and his sword was pressed into the crow king's back.
"I suggest that you learn to keep your claws to yourself in the future, Naesala." Stefan snarled.
Naesala's eyes went wide in recognition at the sound of Stefan's voice. "You!" he spat, "You're the little half-breed that Tibarn is so fond of."
Stefan chuckled as he observed both of their shocked looks. "I'm glad to see that you remember me, but I must ask you to stay away from things that do not belong to you. That might be a complicated concept for you to comprehend, but my fangs will find your flesh if you do not heed my words."
"Filthy half-breed mutt!" Naesala hissed.
Soren blanched as Stefan increased the pressure of his sword in the king's back. "Stefan stop this, it's not worth it."
A frown fell over Stefan's face before he complied with the younger man's request and lowered his sword.
Naesala saw his chance and stepped behind Soren to whisper a few words of parting into his ear. "If you should ever tire of this fool you only need call and I will come." At Soren's shivering response, he moved in to steal a kiss when he spied his real prey entering across the room.
The heron princess looked radiant on the arm of — Tibarn! His blood began to boil and he saw red. "I shall see you later." He nipped the boy's ear affectionately before striding over towards Tibarn and company.