AN: Enjoy this chapter! Happy Reading! :)
Chapter 11
SPOV
I slip into my usual leathers, unwilling to ever wear something so ridiculously pink or frilly as the dress from yesterday. Ugh. I let out a soft sigh, feeling much more like myself before strutting towards my bedroom door.
"Princess," Preston greets, bowing his head to me to leave me fighting back a small frown as I recall his insistence to see me as his wife. I like Preston, I really do…as a friend and I'm really having a hard time picturing the two of us ever being anything more, but I suppose if given an option between the Sky Fae general and a complete stranger, I would undoubtedly choose my friend.
"Ready," I assure him, taking firm hold of his proffered forearm to allow him to pop us both to the sprawling stadium. Loud voices ring out all around us and the excitement in the air is practically palpable as today marks the beginning of the actual tournament.
"Granddaughter," Niall greets, sending me a warm smile before motioning for me to sit beside him upon the raised dais Preston has transported us to. Preston sends me a firm nod as I drop down beside the prince before popping away once more.
"So, I suppose we're in for a rather long day of battles," I remark, lazily stretching out my limbs to earn a raised brow from my grandfather. I just shrug, not caring at all about presenting myself as a proper lady. I'm me and I'm not about to change, not for anyone, the competitors may as well get that through their heads now.
"We are," he answers back, apparently unwilling to launch into yet another argument about proper royal etiquette with me. "So tell me, Granddaughter, are there any particular suitors you'll be cheering for today?" he questions, his pale eyes twinkling in delight as I'm left sighing softly.
"Perhaps," I answer back, trying my best to appear nonchalant even as dual sets of emerald and cobalt eyes float to the forefront of my mind. But, I suppose it will be a time yet before I see said eyes in person as the sun is still shining brightly above us.
"And are you looking forward to tonight's ball? It could prove beneficial for you to gain perspective upon your hopeful suitors," he remarks rather coyly to earn an eye roll from me.
"I'm elated, really," I answer back sardonically, seeing a small frown form over Niall's face. "Look, I'm trying my best here, Grandfather, but you know exactly how I feel about this tournament business," I sigh out, seeing him nod subtly in turn.
"I suppose you're right," he answers softly before rising from his throne to grant the rowdy crowd's attention. "Gentlemen, Ladies, I welcome you, one and all to the first official day of Comórtas Pósadh," he calls out to receive boisterous cheering from the packed stadium.
He goes on to explain just how the fights work along with how each evening will be ended with a festivity of sorts to celebrate the day's victors, but I find myself only half listening as I catch a set of icy blue eyes staring intently upon me. Breandan. I clutch the arms of my throne whilst sending him a death glare and as I see a triumphant smile stretch over his face, I'm instantly filled with indignant anger.
"Don't let his punk ass get to you, cuz," Claude's voice sounds beside me before I glance over to catch my cousin's sympathetic smile. "You know he's just trying to push your buttons," he insists, earning an agreeing nod from me before I fall back to the throne with a sigh.
"Yeah, I know," I agree, shaking my head. "But I still don't get why he's even bothering with the tournament, I mean, for years the asshole's been sending his fucking cronies after me. Doesn't he want me dead? I'm a hybrid after all, the supposed bane of his existence," I muse aloud softly to earn a light shrug from my cousin.
"I wouldn't begin to assume I know what the hell that madman's thinking," he answers back with a frown. "You could always ask him, you know," he remarks then, sending me a wicked smirk.
"Yes and I'm sure he'd be perfectly honest with me, too," I retort with an eye roll, even as my wheels are spinning, wondering if I should just come out and ask him what the hell his game plan is. Suppose it wouldn't hurt to know the motives of my greatest enemy, besides, he can't lay a hand on me, at least not for the rest of the week anyhow.
The crowd's screams bring us back to the center of the stadium and my heart skips a beat seeing Quinn the weretiger striding confidently over the matted dirt below us. I then glance up to his opponent, seeing a strapping young centaur who appears to have a personal axe to grind with the cocky were.
"This should be good," Claude sounds at my ear, an elated smile stretching over his face as I'm left absently nodding my agreement, watching as the two supes slowly begin circling one another, armed with nothing more than their fists and sheer will to win.
"Oh, fuck," I whisper, seeing sharpened claws abruptly extend from Quinn's meaty fists, a feral growl rising up from his throat. The weretiger speeds fearlessly towards his opponent and Claude and I are both poised at the edge of our seats, entranced by the unfurling scene before us. Heavy hooves meet blackened talons and I can't help cringing at the sight of bright crimson waves spilling out around the opposing men.
Much sooner than I'd thought possible, Quinn stands over the beaten, bloodied centaur, his glistening, blood coated chest heaving as the crowd falls into eerie silence. An appointed arbitrator soon rushes in, checking over the still form of the fallen warrior before raising one of Quinn's burly arms triumphantly into the air.
The crowd goes wild and I'm left looking on in mild wonderment as Quinn bows his shining bald head to me in a show of reverence. A light blush falls over my cheeks and I send him a returning nod, not knowing how the hell I should be feeling about all this as I see the medics carrying away the gravely injured centaur. Damn, I suppose I knew the fights would be intense, but there's nothing quite like watching them up close and personal to drill the point home, I suppose.
In no time at all, two more competitors are facing off in the now blood spattered ring and once more a light cringe runs through me at the sight of the men fighting viciously, all for the sake of winning my hand. I shake my head, a worrisome ache resounding in my chest as I realize I hardly even know these men. Just how will I react upon seeing people I actually care about, people I supposedly love fighting before my very eyes?
EPOV
Godric and I land just outside the sprawling stone stadium and make a beeline towards the days listed fights nailed to the stone archway. I search the long list of names and a small frown forms upon my face upon feeling my golden fae's distress before I see I'll be facing off against an unknown competitor this evening.
"It would seem our love is distressed," Godric sounds softly beside me as I note a frown that matches my own.
"I would assume she's been made to watch countless fights during our rest. Perhaps the violence has proved straining," I suggest, earning a light nod from my Maker before the two of us follow the sound of the uproarious crowd.
My eyes instantly pick out a familiar golden head and even from my place across the stadium, I easily note the anxiety written over Sookie's ethereal features. I let out a soft sigh, hating to feel any amount of distress from her before following her wary gaze towards an all too familiar figure standing at the base of the raised dais. Breandan.
"What do you suppose he's up to, my child?" Godric questions, his own emerald eyes speculatively studying the Water Fae's leader.
"Odin only knows," I sigh out, not liking his presence here in the least bit, especially upon observing the longing looks he's sending towards my fae princess. A malicious smile forms over my face then, knowing I'll be granted my vengeance soon enough. My name called out then and Godric sends me an encouraging smile before I march confidently into the center ring.
A hush falls over the crowd upon my arrival and I only roll my eyes, having known full well vampires weren't likely to be welcomed into this competition with open arms. I could honestly care less as I'm here for one reason and one reason alone, to win the hand of the woman who currently holds my heart.
A second name is then called out and I glance around curiously before my gaze falls upon my approaching opposition. Fuck my undead life. I inwardly groan, looking up to the towering mountain of a beast entering into the ring whilst silently cursing my apparent shitty luck. A fucking ogre, because of course this monster would be my first fucking challenger.
He lumbers slowly closer and I'm left scrambling, searching my mind for what I know of ogre mythology. Do these massive fuckers have any weaknesses? I tilt my head in speculation, noting the dull blankness of his black eyes, add to that his lethargic movements and I quickly decide that even if he does have size and strength on his side, that leaves speed and wit on mine.
"Alright, big boy, let's get this over with," I sigh out, earning a dull look in return before he lets out bellowing cry loud enough to leave the dirt floor vibrating below our feet. Damn. A large foot is suddenly raised above me and I easily dodge the colossal, green appendage, speeding behind my opponent to leave him momentarily dazed. Alright, so far, so good.
In a flash, I'm perched upon the towering beast's broad shoulders and proceed to wrap my legs firmly around his throat with the intention of cutting off his air supply. I tighten my grip, grunting low with the effort before realizing I'm suddenly falling. What the fuck?
"Oh, fuck!" I grunt out, suddenly finding myself pinned beneath the mammoth form of my opponent who apparently decided to fall abruptly unto his back; a rather crude form of attack, yet an apparently beneficial as I'm now left not only injured, but utterly immobile as well. Great, just fucking great.
Fear spikes through me then and my brow momentarily furrows before I realize I'm feeling my Sookie's distress. She's worried about me. Well, that's something. I quickly shake off the thought, knowing I'll need to win this fight if I'm to do anything about this somewhat surprising realization.
Large, calloused hands are pawing at me and a pained grunt escapes me as I'm left dodging the ogre's crude attempts to apprehend me. Finally deciding his rather weak efforts are futile, the beast slowly sits up once more and I'm only glad I no longer require oxygen as the throbbing pain in my chest leaves me fearing I may have managed to puncture a fucking lung. Sweet Odin, that one fucking hurt.
A colossal, green fist swings by my face then and I only just dodge the beefy appendage before rising painfully to my feet. A rumbling cough succeeds in creating crimson rivulets through the dirt at my feet and I know I need to bring a speedy end to this fight.
Another swing of his fist finds me clinging onto the massive appendage and I note the puzzled look of my opponent just before I land upon his shoulders once more, though this time I'm careful not to leave myself vulnerable to a tumble on his part. Lesson most definitely learned.
I wrap my arms around the ogre's green, bulbous head, calling forth all my remaining strength as a feral cry rises from his throat. My head is spinning and I know I've been hurt much worse than I'd previously thought, yet I can't give up, not now, not when I've only just begun to fight for the woman I love.
Coursing fear is streaming steadily through me at this point, courtesy of my anxious fae and I close my eyes, concentrating on the emotions of my beloved, finding in her, the strength I need before I'm twisting with all my might. A wordless cry rumbles from deep within my chest and white stars cloud my quickly blurring vision as I pour all my remaining strength into my current struggle before hearing a sickeningly wet snap.
I'm falling once more, only this time, I manage to avoid the dead weight of my competitor as I tumble to the bloodied dirt floor. The previously cheering crowd falls eerily silent and I peel my eyes open just long enough to see an appointed arbitrator swiftly checking over the unmoving ogre before proceeding to lift my arm into the air to proclaim me the winner.
Thank fucking Odin. A small smile forms over my face, feeling my love's jubilance just before my world goes dark.
