Alaric does not waste Eulalia's time with any frivolities, guaranteeing that action would be taken soon. The jarl regarding him closely for a moment longer, sharply nodding to the stranger as he turned to leave. He could have sworn he heard a rustling, a footstep, but saw nothing beyond. Grunting, the jarl headed back towards camp, weighing the pact that had just been formed and what it would mean for the future of the Rike. Times were changing.

-exit-

""

Then Erna waited. The thought that @Alaric might not be very pleased with the sudden meeting crept in her mind, and she froze for a bare second. However, the light-pelted man beside her said nothing. Her anxiety calmed down if only for now, because she knew that they will be alone if not today, then another day.

It wasn't too long before Eulalia arrived, his brutish figure emerging from the distant fields and rocks of the Freeze. She stiffened unnoticeably, wondering if she was making a mistake. In the face of the Jarl, she was always second-guessing even her most ambitious plans. His scowl and brass baritones did not help at all. His single seeing eye sets upon her as if scrutinizing her. The bear of a woman stood motionless, unwilling to show any hint of weakness, but inside she was a trembling child.

Found yourself another victim? She smirks if only to recognize his joke, her gaze casting towards her lover who spoke in her turn. The Starke man was not one to beat around the bush and quickly explained his intentions. She wondered how her cousin and Jarl would react to this, but something was telling her that he will be wary. As it should be, of course. To mistake Eulalia for a soft man would be the last thing one could do. If he had been weak, he wouldn't have survived so long among their pack of wolves.

But he was the leader of the said pack, the alpha wolf if you will. And his unrecognizable look towards her unlocked the instinct to run, but she quickly tamed her demons. If this were to work - she would have to remain where she was and bear with the constant onslaught that the Jarl was certainly going to offer her. The Rike patriarch began to circle around them, sizing up the man who was daring to speak of alliances but was a mere stranger. Erna controlled her breathing, trying to calm her racing heart. If this was to go bad - Alaric would face the direst consequences. And her? She would only watch and hope her turn was not going to arrive anytime soon.

Erna let the two men speak, knowing better than to butt into their conversation. She preferred not to when the chance was given because playing this deadly game of chess was the least of her wishes. The topic of Alaric's intentions led to taking her as a bride and securing a title for himself. It was not something she didn't know. Interesting, the Jarl says. She feels her confidence grow if only an inch. Good, this was going well.

Until he began to go through what benefits Alaric, and question how that would benefit the Rike. She felt the balance fickle as if the couple was treading on a glass floor. Eulalia suggested that trusting the clan's fate into Alaric was difficult to do, evidently shooting her a glance that made her shudder. She gulped, wanting nothing more but to sink into the ground. Was she being a fool to trust her lover? Was she putting her clan at risk with this little plan of theirs? She knew that her kin were strong to withstand any storm, that didn't worry her. What frightened her was the repercussions for her should Alaric turn on her family. She felt a noose tighten around her neck.

If her lover was to betray her, she will slit his jugular.

And then she will die at the claws of her family, no doubt.

I do not trust you, Eulalia says to Alaric. The wench's dark talons grip the damp ground beneath. The Jarl puts down a subtle warning of what may come if Alaric turns on them, but that does not bother the venom-eyed man. He seeks only to rise and the Rike to benefit of this alliance. He promises that he will not let them down in their tongue. She sees through his ace as he pulls it from his sleeve. The clever devil that he was.

Rike claws shall follow. Oh, sweet triumph! She peeks at Alaric with the corner of her eye, a wolfish grin pulling on her wound and letting pain accompany her smug joy. Alaric promises his challenge to be soon, and Erna cannot wait. Eulalia grunts a goodbye, dismissing them of his presence.


She watched him leave, still not daring to flinch or say a word. When the Jarl's shape was far behind the hills, she exhales the air she was subconsciously holding. "Wir haben es geschafft," She murmurs, glancing back at the light-furred feline beside her. The deal was sealed - and she was at its forefront! Or so she thought. Certainly, the Jarl will see her value. She would be the glue that held Rike and Starke together, which shined the spotlight she so yearned for. Recognition was certainly to come! Erna was soaring high on her hopes and her confidence, rising from her spot, the muscles flexing beneath her thick fur. There was a false sense of invincibility within her, and she felt like she could take a whole army single-handed.

She was unsure what was to come, but she knew that Eulalia will gather them soon and instruct them of the action plan for the day of the challenge. Every drop of anxiety was gone from her body, and she wondered if he will praise her in front of all her kin. She wondered how Sunniva's face would look. Jealous, no doubt! After all, in the last meeting the Jarl made an example out of his wife. Erna hadn't gone unscathed, either, but her punishment had been on the battlefield. She much preferred that, even if it hurt far more than just a few punches.

@Erna was quiet through most of it, and he appreciated that. She was a woman who knew her place, even if he did not doubt she could nearly match him on the battlefield. He saw her as a force to be reckoned with, but he sensed that she would not dare rise against him. He turned to her, now, to find passion; a thrill that coursed through them both. Their future stretched clear ahead of him -- all that was left to do was win the fight. If sheer determination and drive could solidify it then it was practically a done deal. He growled, low and wanting, as he rose beside his wife-to-be; after their home was claimed then he would make his claim more permanent. For now he pressed in to her, needy and wanting, spurred by the small victory they had achieved together. "You.." he purred, "are mine." Possessive and demanding as he ran his tongue along her neck and then sought to press her roughly to the ground. This time there would be a hint of his bloodlust tinging their coupling, a darker desire that coursed between them and sang to the mountain of their win. -exit/fade to black-

image by moogle, code by koi