A Reluctant Alliance

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Ana is not sure why she feels slightly offended. Gladly face the window? She wasn't a monster! Still, she can't help but agree with him about the turning around thing. Married or not, the last thing she wants is to undress in front of him and when he goes out onto the balcony, she hurries to change, slipping into sleep-shorts and a gray tank-top, the heat already wearing off from the desert, but still different than she is used to.

The Princess looked toward the balcony then, letting her red hair out and pursed her lips, debating. In the end, her nature wins out over her mind and she doesn't call out to Oran, instead going to the bed and stripping the top quilt off and then the blanket underneath, letting the peddles litter the floor and not caring. She was too tired to care. Well, sort of. Despite his demeanor and her dislike of him, Ana does care enough to make sure he's as comfortable as he can be on the floor. She moves about with eerily quiet steps and arranges the bed on the floor near the door, but in sight of the balcony. He's a warrior. He'll want to see all angles of the room in case there is danger. Satisfied with the state of the bed she's made, Ana went back to the bed and grabbed two pillows, throwing them over to the blankets on the floor before she calls to the Kel'korian.

"You can come back in if you want." She doesn't really care if he does as she climbs into the bed and sits there cross-legged, nothing but the sheets and a blanket on the bed now, but that's fine with her. She's used to the humidity of the jungle and doesn't usually sleep with a great deal of blankets anyway.
 
The bad tempered Oran just broods once he is outside by himself and he doesn't have to worry about her constantly looking at him. Thinking of that, he can't imagine why she has such a problem with his eyes. For when she looks at him, it's not amazement he thinks he sees but resentment for his hues. Frankly, Oran could care less in ordinary situations what people thought about him but this girl. This girl -with a tail- attached to her lower backside, has to be his wife till the end of time. For, in his culture, it's forbidden to marry and then divorce. They're with one another for life. Becoming angry at himself, he balls his hands up into fists, straightening up and running them through his dry and flaky hair. Unlike his brothers who have thick locks and proud smoothness, Oran has the runt of the litter when it comes to hair. He has been bald most of his life and throughout his childhood. Perhaps it's just some strange gene he has but if he doesn't keep his hair a certain short length, it will just fall out. In order to look presentable, he must keep it under two inches.

Hearing her summon him back into the room, Oran doesn't turn around but just breathes in a long breath. Tonight will not occur in the order everyone else expects it to be. Right now he just wants to sit down and sleep. A tingle of regret courses through his veins as he enters, pushing the white curtains aside, letting them lap over his shoulders and arms as he crosses into the cool room. The full moon rises behind him, the light illuminating his figure. "Thank you. Will you be staying up or should I not even bother sparking some ..."

Looking around, Oran finds candle holders littered throughout the room. One by the door, three of them by the desk, and another two at either side of the bed. It seems this culture uses the ancient art of candle making. How romantic... He jokes with himself, seeing the scattered rose pedals on the floor and the sorry excuse for the bed she has made. Exhaling he utters in his defeat, "Candles? Reading? Writing? Thinking... Meditating?" Noticing the way she strategically placed his sheets, Oran blinks, looking back at the balcony and then to the door. Figuring it's just a coinsidence, he keeps moving into the room.

Oran slides the metal bars of his case in one direction and then another, hearing the usual click of the case open before him. Rummaging through is the easy part for he only has to retrieve the ointment for his face. Not believing the physicians, Oran supposes that this cream helps dull the pain and repair the damage. It's already been a month though. A whole month and this cream, this sorry excuse for a cream has done -nothing-. At least in Oran's eyes it hasn't. Placing the white bottle on the desk, Oran doesn't even ask her to look away, knowing he might as well just sleep in his pants tonight. Taking off the ceremonial chest piece is the least of his worries, settling it in his bag once it's wrapped around his crimson cape. "It gets cold at night." He warns, not even turning around to speak to her, "Are you sure you don't mind the lack of blankets?"
 
She would have thought he cared about her welfare if not for his voice and his demeanor. Ana looked away as he started to undress, giving him the same courtesy he gave her, reply that no, she didn't need the candles. She wouldn't be staying awake tonight. Or maybe she would, but it wouldn't be because she wanted to. No, she just wanted to get this night over with and then avoid him as much as she could, as much as they were allowed to.

She blinked at his comment about the cold and looked out to the balcony and the city and then desert beyond, sharp eyesight seeing more than a human would, further distance. Ana shook her head, flopping backward into the pillows and staring at the ceiling....that was surprisingly colorful with its murals. She studied it, tilting her head as she answered Oran absentmindedly. "I'll be fine. My species has an internal heat source. We don't chill easily. It's overheating we have to worry about." In fact, if she was every cold to the touch, that would be a very, very bad sign.

The pictures on the ceiling...they were....wait! That was her family! Ana sat up, more alert now as she turned her head, looking at the images more closely now. Oran's family was there, too, she recognized them after a moment, but her eyes strayed back to her own family, gold-hazel hues washing over the familiar faces. Yes, that was her father and her brothers...Jamekon and....her mother. Ana stared at the face she hadn't seen since her youngest brother's birth, wondering what her mother would have thought of all this. Would she be proud of her? Would she have let her father make this arrangement? What advice would she have given?

Ana knew she'd never know the answers and she finally looked away from the ceiling with a sigh, laying down again and curling up much like a cat might, her tail curling around her as she avoided looking toward Oran. She could care less about him right now. All she wanted to do was cry herself to sleep, but she couldn't even do that with him here. It was going to be a long, long night.
 
Hearing the shuffling of sheets behind him, Oran just assumes that she is either getting into the bed or trying to find a comfortable position to rest. "An internal heat source? Is -- nevermind." Oran is about to ask what her home planet is like but thinking it better not to talk about family, he shuts his mouth. A soft hum comes to his throat as he arranges the stacks of books on his desk. Finding one that he likes, he turns to look over his shoulder at the curled up body behind him. Actually smiling, he thinks it's rather cute the way she looks. The red hair falling over her shoulders and across her body. Snapping out of his daze, he asks quietly, "Would you mind if I stay up? I should be reading through some of these tomes. Tomorrow I can deal with the holograms as to not disturb you with the glaring blue light."

Strangely enough, now he cares for her when it's about work. Having a one tracked mind, Oran cannot help but wait for her answer silently, his fingers rubbing together at his side. If she gives him the privilege of reading, he would search the desk drawers, pulling out a long candle that he can read under. Placing the long chunk of wax into the dip in the candle holder, he can't help but bring his shoulders up, gently ignite the rope tip, drawing the wax up to reveal a calming blue light. Little does he know, this is no usual candle. It's made specially for wedding nights to calm the aura of the room, a sweet lavender smell making filling the space soon after minutes pass of Oran reading at his desk. Slouching over his book, he flips through page after page, hating how fragile the thin sheets of paper feel against his fingers. The information is dull and Oran finds his heavy lids soon shutting, his face resting in the palm of his hand.

Not knowing how much time passes, Oran snaps awake, being thrust out of the dream world and back to reality. The moon is still out, not sure if five minutes have passed or five hours. Rubbing his eyes, Oran doesn't even bother to shut the book, blowing out the candle before sitting up, being sure not to scrape the legs of the chair against the stone as he weaves his way out. Moving right to his sorry excuse for a bed, he wraps the blankets around him, forgetting to even apply the cream. Perhaps that's why his wound isn't healing properly.
 
Ana had told him she didn't mind if he read and when he'd lit the candle, she'd felt herself relax after a time, her lids growing heavy as she listened to him turning the pages of the paper, a soothing sound in her ears. Rakobe used to do that, when she was younger and would have nightmares - though, she still did have those. He'd stay in the room, just being there helped, and he'd read until she fell asleep. Thinking about her family makes her heart hurt, but also soothes the Princess into sleep and she doesn't wake.

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Ana woke with the sun, feeling the rays spread across her face, seeping past her lids to make everything red before she opened them and looked around. Sometime in the night, she'd pushed the sheets and blankets to the end of the bed and had changed her position, curling with her head to the end of the bed and her feet to the pillows, still making herself as small as possible. It was a habit she'd developed years ago and it had never really gone away. Ana had always wondered what her husband would think of that when she married. Now she found she didn't even care.

And she was already irritated, having thought about Oran upon waking.

She shook her head, sitting up and without glancing at the bed on the floor to see if her new husband is there or not, she grabbed one of her bags and left the room. Sneaking through the hallways was actually kinda fun this early in the morning and Ana was in a better mood by the time she got back to her own room. It wasn't far from the marriage suite and she was grateful for that. It would mean she wouldn't have a problem sneaking here often if she had to, though, she hoped they could just stay in their own chambers from now on.

After showering and dressing in shorts, a somewhat tight purple shirt and once again putting on her belt - this time with daggers included - and doing her hair up in a simple pony-tail, she left her room. The halls were more alive now and Ana nodded politely to those she passed, but her destination was the landing pads outside and she just remembered how to get there. Her family would be leaving today. She was not going to miss saying goodbye to them.
 
Having to choose an old and once outlawed skill set, one that separates the Oligarch family from those commoners, Oran was hasty in picking the crackling flames. It has been many years since she has ruled, her body floating in a space wreckage somewhere beyond their imagining. For everyone is told not to move out of the galaxy for you may never find your way back. Never-the-less, the Order of Kel'kor opened its arms and fought the tyrant when the worlds, the whole galaxy, shuttered in her shadow.

Only a few wizards or enchanters are left alive in this galaxy. During the last millennium war most of their kind, magic users, have been shot down and killed on sight. It was either that or having the fear of being captured for an evil dominated the galaxy, turning all hearts that she could black. She called herself a god, coming from the Berro system by the Eastern disk. Living in solitude, she harnessed all the energy that she could into her very soul. Replacing emotion with anger, compassion with aggression and love with none other than hate. How did she do this? She went to the planet where the Great Ones nested, seeking wisdom from their teachings in order to better her own self. That was before magic was outlawed. Before her iron fist ruled what seemed to be every inch of the known galaxy.

Those who could flee uprooted their lives and fled to distant planets on the outer rim of the large saucer shaped galaxy. The Order of Kel'kor welcomed these refuges when many nations or factions killed them upon sight. That's why the art of magic is still taught within the confined walls of the Oligarchs' homes. Unique to only their children, the sorcerer's swore to the Oligarchs that they would only train those who have the proper will to learn. The Order gives them shelter and they, in return, give them power. That was the price for their entrance into the Kingdom. The four main elements, earth, fire, water, and wind, (reserved for only the highest of privilege) are all accompanied by gravity, summoning, abjuration... and the list goes on.

For when Gevzio attempted to learn the skill of fire from Master Illar, he failed. Days turned into weeks and Oran studied his brother, matching up his faults with what Oran believed at the time to be his massive build. He didn't accept the fire as Oran did. To Oran, the flame is a living being, needed to be cared for as well as monitored. His brother, on the other hand, only thought of it as a weapon and something that he could use to defeat the enemy. Gevzio tried to manipulate weapons to shoot flaming balls of fire, only ending up consuming the metal from the intense heat. Even though Gevzio did find out the perfect combination of earth elements, using his alchemy skills, to prevent the flame from consuming all in his path, he never touched the way of the flame again. It wasn't because of his brother taking his glory, mastering in the art because of his size and patience, but he felt that his skilled could be honed in different ways. Drinking and partying are high on his list.

During the plentiful sleep, Oran replays his moments in battle with Master Illar and his first real achievements in mastering the way of the flame. How does it move, jump, consume, crackle, and soothe ones self? Oran is no where near experienced enough to know all of those answers but with patience, Master Illar will be sending him models, books, and of course, projections on how to really become one with his element. Right now, all he knows how to do is make himself alight in flame, helping with hand to hand combat. If he angered enough though, he might not be able to control himself. Some of the most skilled Master's have made tornados of flame, washing tides of embers and, most importantly, a bubble to hide in. One day, Oran knows, he will calm the flames and be accepted by Illar and his band of Sorcerers.

Waking up in the morning is easy, seeing that she is still asleep, he finds himself living quite on the edge. Creeping over to her, he lays a quick kiss on her cheek. His mentality is that through her sleep she will be able to accept him and hopefully they can make this work. But, of course, as soon as his lips touch her skin, he is gone, turning to the door and exiting swiftly. What am I thinking? This will never work. We may be allies now but her people. They are relentless when they kill. I have seen them in action... those tails of utter death. Finding his way to the training grounds, Oran immediately sits down in the planted glass, crossing his legs to meditate. Sooner or later, he stands, his mind clear and focus solely on what he desires. Form after form is completed with swift swooping motions, kicks, punches, dives and rolls added to the mix. When he has practiced enough, he adds his element to the mix. His markings cannot be seen unless he is in the semiconscious state - the state where he can harness the way of the flame. Soon he is jumping, flipping, rolling, kicking with an added bonus. The lively flame follows his movements, every motion he does mimicked by a trail of blazing fire evaporating into the air.
 
"You will learn to be happy here, Ana. I know it."

Her father's words did not sooth her, but Ana tried to smile anyway. She didn't want to fight with him before he left. She had no idea when he'd be back. The only connection she had with her home was leaving in only a few minutes and she wanted the memory to be a good one as she hugged her father and then pulled back, nodding. "I am sure I will get used to it. Safe flying, my King."

Her father kissed her forehead before departing up the ramp and then the twins came over, smiles on their faces, but sly ones. It made the Princess wary as she watched them. Helico and Neforn had always been pranksters, troublemakers and she knew them well. They surprised her today, however as they came close and whispered to her so no one else could hear. "We brought Shadow."

Ana's eyes widened. "Wha-" It was the only sound she was able to get out before Neforn whistled and a large shape bounded out of the ship, colliding with her and sending the Princess crashing to the ground. She laughed then, pushing the creature off her, taking the face of the great dire wolf in her hands with a grin before she looked at her brothers. "Father will skin you!"

Helico smirked, his reply cheeky. "He's your wolf. Father shouldn't have told you leave him behind. He'll thank us when he realize Shadow isn't chewing on his shoes."

"And he will flay you when his best hunting wolf is found missing." Ana retorted and her brothers grinned wider as she stood to hug them, kissing the top of both their heads. "Thank you. Now go. The ship is leaving."

She watched them hurry away, waving as they went and her heart broke a little as the ship finally took off. She raised her hand in farewell, not knowing if they saw her or not and then looked down at the dark gray wolf standing at her side. He was massive, his back coming to her waist and his head at her breasts. But then again, she was short, too. Still, for a creature of the old world, he was large and breeding with canine-like species of her home planet had honed him into the perfect companion and killer. She touched his head, comforted by his presence and then started away from the landing pads, toward the city, her bare feet swift and silent.

It was time she explored her new home.
 
Taking a break from his training, Oran moved to the landing pad where the family hurries to leave. With strong handshakes and solid nods, Oran bids his goodbyes to Ana's family. Her father tells him to look after his darling daughter and the tall man bows low to the ground and swears that he will do so even though in the back of his head he comments his curses quietly to himself. Being a good sport, none-the-less, Oran gives his last bows of his head before moving off before Ana arrives, knowing she will want to be at peace with her family without his presence. Explaining this to them is easy and quickly Oran moves back to his own grassy training area.

Meditating in the grassy square, Oran can't help but think about this marriage. He ought to be nicer but how can he? Closing his eyes, he hears Master Illar's voice in his head, cautioning him to take a step back before jumping to conclusions. With a deep sigh, his graceful meditation process is stomped on with a large pair of arms wrapping around his torso. His vision snaps open, the jolting sensation sending his arms out to his sides, attempting to break the man's hold on him. He knows it cannot be a woman for no arms could have such mass. Meeting many woman warriors and even connecting with a few, Oran knows the difference in tone by now.

Reaching around himself, Oran grabs onto the torso of this unknown mass and easily flips him over his shoulder, letting out an alarmed breath. He cheeky smile and dark blue hair, his personal favorite, cannot be mistaken for anyone else. Before Oran has time to speak, Gevzio is leaping at him from the ground. The two brothers let out excited grasps and huffs of air as they try and best one another at a good old grappling match. "You know not to use your stupid flames here, brother." Comes the husky voice of his well built brother, the blue of his hair shining in the sunlight. Oran is pinned down to the ground at this point, his brain fanatically trying to see a way out. Gev's weight easily straddled across his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. With a buck of his hips, Oran quickly bends Gev's elbow. Gripping his free arm, the warrior quickly turns the tables on his brother, hopping onto his stomach once again. What he didn't realize is the fist flying right to his face for the two mean business when they fight. The whole time they're trying to kill one another.

Blow after blow is dealt until Oran's fists are red with blood, the two of them even scrambling up to face one another. Kicks, punches, blocks and misses are dealt in a series of fast motions. Making use of their playspace, Oran quickly jumps onto the nearby wall, knowing he is far more agile than his elder brother. Quickly he bounds across the courtyard, easily balancing as his arms come out to his sides, swaying this way and that as he feels his weight shift from foot to foot. Sooner or later Gev catches up to his brother on foot, grabbing his belt and yanking him off of the wall and tossing him to the ground. The world spins for Oran, feeling his back collide into the nearby wall. "Are you done?" Gev comments, sourly looking down at Oran through a bloody eye, feeling the drip of red liquid down his face. Oran, no doubt, has his own wounds too. And bruises, never forget about the bruises.
 
Ana hadn't meant to come to the grassy square. Her feet had just sort of led her there and what she'd come upon had made her blink in surprise. She leaned against a pillar that held up the archway leading to the square and folded her arms, hip cocked and tail making small circles as she watched the brothers. Shadow laid at her feet, his ears perked, alert to what was going on, but awaiting orders from his mistress. In the absence of them, he'd stay where he was.

It became apparent to Ana quite quickly that this was a familiar fight between the two, but unlike the sparring matches she watched between her brother and various WingWarriors, this was not a friendly fight. Blood was flying and so were bodies. These two meant business and the Princess was unsure if she should care about one of them dying or not. Still, in a small corner of her mind....she found that if one of them had to....oddly enough, she didn't want it to be Oran. Despite her dislike of him, he was someone she knew now. Gevzio was not.

Ana watched them until they looked about done - or ready to start another round - and then left them to it, not sure if she was seen or not, and not really caring as she continued to make her way toward the town. Shadow followed her like his namesake and when they got to the city, she had absolutely no fear that anyone would come near her with ill-intent. She knew that she should have a guard with her - she was a Princess after all - but Ana was very good at slipping away from them and she knew she could handle herself if Shadow couldn't handle things for her.
 
Gevzio easily picks up Oran with tight fists digging into his skin and clothing, pushing him up against the wall. His brother, Oran, mutters out something, being truly exhausted by the fight for it went on for long enough and the marks prove that fact. "I SAID ARE YOU DONE?" Gevzio spits in Oran's face, making him flinch and turn his head away. His eyes digging into his own brother with hate and despair. For their fighting is a time for them to get all of their pent up emotions out. "I should have been the one marrying her, you know." Comes his cold whisper through the hallway, watching as a steady stream of blood leaks from Oran's injured nose. "You shouldn't have been honored with such a task. I am the elder brother. You are nothing."

In reaction to this, Oran places his hands on his brother's wrists, slowly the grip lessens. Once Oran can reach the ground again, he wraps his throbbing arms around his brother, feeling something lodged into his right bicep. Not caring about the small shard or whatever it may be, he just shuts his eyes, feeling Gev collapse into him. It turns out he is jealous of his brother for marrying Ana. For everyone was high on the spirits of the night, no one could see the jealousy in Gev's eyes. This princess is the one he thought he would marry, his father even telling him so for the past three years. But for whatever reason, at the last moment, Gev was replaced with Oran, his father's explanation being he needs his eldest son at home with him to learn how to become a ruler before he dies. Accepting this through and through, Gev tried to play nice but most of the pummeling of this day is getting back at Oran for he has a beautiful wife and he doesn't seem to appreciate it.

Oran always knows how to calm his brother down, being able to take a punch, knowing that Gev needs to release his anger somehow. In hinesight, Oran concludes that this fight is for the best. He too has beaten out his own problems. After the embrace, Oran simply walks away from his brother, going to find a nice hot bath to soak himself in for hours. Once that's done, he moves to his room in only a towel, not thinking to see Ana there at all. Knowing it's around breakfast, he ought to be dressed and in the dining hall. Dawning some simple minded clothing, Oran, cuts and bruises, all make their way to the dining hall. His men don't even question the injuries as he walks past, the whole family already knowing from Gev. Looking around, Oran tries to find his wife, thinking it only proper that he should sit with her instead of with his family.
 
Ana had spent the better part of the day in the city, seeing what sights were there to behold. The people hadn't recognized her yet, something she was grateful for and she'd enjoyed wandering about, ducking out of worker's way, smelling the many things being sold and admiring the colors of the fabric on display. Shadow kept people at bay and she knew tales would spread about the fire-haired maiden who walked barefoot with a wolf at her side. The thought amused her.

Finally coming back to the....palace(?), Anahsi knew she was late for breakfast but couldn't bring herself to feel sorry for it. In her home, breakfast was not a huge affair. It was simple, eaten when one was hungry and didn't require ceremony and if this was to be her new home for the foreseeable future, she was NOT going to adopt all of her husband's customs. His people would have to get used to some of hers and vice-versa.

With that in mind, she entered the dining hall as she was - shorts, t-shirt, hair now falling out of her pony-tail and bare feet....oh, and a large wolf at her side - without fanfare and confident. Finding the seat meant for her and noting that her husband was already there - great - she stopped, beckoning a servant over. She spoke to the man and he nodded before leaving the room. He returned soon enough with a chair in his arms and replaced it with the one she was supposed to sit in. Ana smiled, seeing that it didn't match the others around the table, but it DID have an open back near the base. She thanked the man and then came and sat, her tail MUCH happier than it had been last night at the feast. Shadow laid at her feet, quiet.

As the food was served, the Princess glanced at Oran - eyeing his cuts and bruises without surprise - and keeping her voice nonchalant, not looking for a fight this early in the day, she spoke to him. "You fought well this morning."
 
Upon sitting down, Oran waits for a passing servant, waving one down he asks to check on his wife. Oh that word feels like ash in his throat. This woman who he, in the eyes of his fellow family, slept with last night. Finding an act of rebellion always a good pass time, Oran cannot help but smile as he gets all these thumbs -way up- from his close family and friends. To them, the husband and wife have intertwined in -love- when in reality he slept on a cold dark floor and she in the warm comfy bed. Not caring about the sleeping situation, he is sure that tonight they would be able to sleep separately. When gazing to his father, the white haired man just shakes his head, never liking Gav and his definition of fun. The look, no matter how quick, spikes Oran right in the heart, making him suck in a short breath, his hand pressing against his side.

The servant comes back and announces that there is no sign of the Princess. As soon as those words are spoken, she walks right in through the door. Blinking, Oran cannot believe she would dress in such informal attire. In his mind, he pictures her always having a dress on and being prim and proper. Now understanding that not all women are like that, Oran settles back in his seat. To his right she sits and to his left some distant cousin of his. Thankfully, the blonde haired kid just happily munches on some chilled morning meats such as bacon and ham, not bothering Oran. At least, he had been whisked into silence by his mother's glare. Oran was hardly listening to the boy though, his focus on the dining hall but he let everyone think he was listening. Playing the kid, he asks really simple questions like, "What did you do next?" and "How great, tell me more." To the kid, Oran is strong and bold, seeing the cuts, he knows that Oran is a fighter too!

Once Ana sits down, Oran digs in, their family never saying any sort of prayer. Once the fork full of ham reaches his mouth, she speaks to him and he forces himself to chew delicately before turning to look at her. Today is informal, most of the family still in their sleeping attire and all of them sitting where they like. Having less eyes on him, his tense shoulders releasing themselves to relax at his sides. "Were you watching me?" He questions her directly, not being mean or taken aback by her comment but just curious to why. "I didn't want to wake you this morning and I thought the best option would be to start my training early in the morning so you can wake up to an empty room. Did you sleep well?" Glancing to the wolf near her feet, he suddenly swallows, feeling as if the beast will try and rip off his leg if he said something wrong and upset Ana. With this added pressure, he is sure to keep his distance.
 
"I was. I happened by on my way to the city. Your style and your brother's are quite different, but I think you probably could have beat him." It wasn't with the intention to flatter that made Ana speak, but a true assessment of skill and she spoke with that knowledge, matter-of-fact, little emotion in her comment. She took a bite of egg, chewing and swallowing before answering his question about her sleep.

"I slept fine. I am sorry you had to sleep on the floor." There was some actual sincerity in the apology. She would have rather they slept in their own rooms, both comfortable, but she also knew that it couldn't have happened.

Ana followed his glance then to the wolf at her feet and she smiled at Shadow, reaching down without having to lean over to scratch his head. He looked up at her with yellow eyes, alert as his ears took in everything and his nose twitched. His body tensed at her attention, ready for any command, but Ana gave him none, returning to her food and he laid his head down again, fur relaxing. The Princess glances at Oran, her eyes glittering with some strange emotion, something like amusement and mischief all at the same time. It's hard to tell if it's friendly or not.

"A parting gift from the twins. He's been mine for years, though, my father would like to think otherwise."
 
Not being a fool, Oran doesn't reach down to pet the beast. Knowing it can very well take off his whole arm if desired, Oran goes back to eating his breakfast. Still talking to her though, he keeps his eyes on her and then to the wolf, residing finally on his own plate. Hearing her emotionless comment, Oran hoped that she would have had more to say about his fighting for Oran is used to being bathed in compliments. Grinning, he rubs one eye with the back of his knuckles before speaking. "I'm glad you think so but Gev has a strength I couldn't dare match. Been trying for years and he always comes out on top most of the times. It's only when I can use my--" Pausing, he is about to say his flame skill but shutting his mouth he takes a quick sip of his drink before continuing, "If I can use my weapons."

Leaving it at that, Oran turns back to the room. "Don't feel sorry." Comes his low whisper, not wanting any unwanted ears to hear them, especially his parents. His mother comes up behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders before kissing the top of his head. Her rounded belly serves as a guide that she has eaten well, not just for herself but for two. Running her hands across the protruding belly of hers, she beams. "I hope you slept well, Princess. My son is known for his roughness - I hope he didn't hurt you." With so much as a smile, she touches Ana with her finger tips before walking off. It's clear that she wasn't feeling well, her skin lacking the beautiful color she is known well for. Before Oran could stand up, actually mid stand, his father grabs his shoulder and pulls the blushing man down.Thanks mom... He sighs to himself, "Understood, father." With so much as a flash of a smile, Yuvo follows his wife, wanting to make sure she is safe.

The hotness of Oran's ears down fade as he tries to ignore his mother's comment. "A parting gift?" He immediately reverts the conversation back to where it had originally been. "I'm sure he will keep you company. My guess is that you wish to sleep in your own room tonight?" Pausing for a thought, he adds with without a sigh, "Would you care to join me through the gardens today? Or perhaps we can see the reflection pools?"
 
Ana went a lovely shade of red as Nevv left, not getting the chance to say anything as she looked after the beautiful woman. She wasn't sure what she would have said, but watching Yuvo go after his wife, the Princess wondered if perhaps they might become friends. While she was not happy about this marriage, Ana is not stupid and her mind was already working past her anger and toward how to make this situation bearable. She didn't love Oran....but maybe...in time...they might be friends? Or at least good ruling partners. She had some hope for the idea because what she has seen of Oran told her he was not a bad man, just...unhappy, angry about his situation, same as she was.

Didn't mean she liked him even if she could understand.

Turning her attention back to the conversation at hand, Ana let the blush fade from her cheeks and cast a look of reprimand at Shadow when she felt his teeth close around her lashing tail. The wolf looked back up at her, expression innocent and she spoke firmly. "Nish." The canine immediately let go and Ana turned her attention back to Oran, blinking for a moment as she registered his comment. She nodded, brushing her hair back from her face. "I would, as I am sure you would like to as well."

She tilted her head, considering his offer and watched him for a moment before looking away, having sensed at some point yesterday that he didn't like her looking at him for long. Maybe he was self-conscious? "Is there any chance you might take me by the sparring grounds instead?" If not, she'd go with him like a good, docile wall-flower, but it wasn't her desire.
 
Oran watches his parents flee from the room, knowing that they both loved him very much even though his father makes no attempts to show it. He puts all the emphasis on the receiving of this damn scar on his face for before, his father would hardly look at him. Now, perhaps the scar has helped Yuvo change his mind on his son's maturity? Thinking on the issue at hand, Oran returns his gaze to the silverware, picking up his fork and examining it before running his finger over the delicate craftsmanship. It's unique to this planet, only have three long prongs easily the length of his fingers. Questioning eating with these utensils every single day, Oran frowns. He misses being on the battlefield, not having to care about any formalities nor a wife.

Wincing himself at the canine's successful hunting of Ana's tail, Oran can't help but chuckle, trying to dissipate the gloom he feels still lingers over the two of them. For a good reason though, he feels there is light at the end of the tunnel but it's going to one long tunnel. "Doesn't that -hurt- I am not one to know about tails but ... you," he offers a hand down to the wolf, being sure again not to get too close, "He chomped right down on it and you didn't even move?" From Oran's angle, all he sees is her tail between the sharp white teeth, not being able to register how deep down the teeth are sinking into her tail.

"I don't mind either way. Bed or no bed, I am used to sleeping on the ground. To be honest, I prefer it. Feeling the vibrations up against my back and through by body. The mattress only lessens the aura." His mouth gapes open a bit when she asks to see the sparring grounds. He blinks and blinks again at her, actually excusing himself and making sure he heard her right. It's not a rude "excuse me" but he really can't believe what he is hearing. She isn't like the other Princesses! "You don't have to look away so suddenly..." He chides, seeing her watch him and then divert her eyes. "But the sparring grounds? Do you even know how to fight?"
 
She'd never heard him laugh before...well, chuckle, but still. Ana wasn't sure if she liked the sound yet. It was deep and rumbling, but it made her stomach do weird things and so soon after eating, that was unpleasant. Still, it was a friendly sound and she accepted it for what it was, looking down at Shadow even as Oran offered his hand. She watched as the wolf perked his ears and looking up at her for permission - that she gave - extended his nose and sniffed at the Kel'korian's hand. The canine seemed to debate for a moment before he licked Oran's fingers and then laid his head back down, accepting the human in a way that surprised Ana greatly.

Shadow usually didn't warm to people and his actions made Ana look at Oran closely for a moment, a thoughtful frown on her face before she let it fade. She'd figure out this mystery later. Right now her focus needed to be on what the male was saying. She shook her head at his words, her tail raising so that she could grab it and turn it, showing him the place the wolf had clamped down without bringing the red thing too close to her husband, not trusting him. There wasn't even a mark and Ana shrugged, letting the appendage go again. "My tail is filled with hundreds of nerves and contrary to popular belief, the scales are not armor. It's very sensitive, so yes, it would hurt greatly if he actually bit, but Shadow knows better. His play is never rough even if it appears so."

At his comment about the sleeping arrangements she smiled a little, but because of the topic, it was forced. "I would prefer sleeping alone." she said evenly and then immediately changed the topic, standing from her chair before he could help and pushing it in, grinning at Oran's open-mouthed expression. Shadow nearly leaped to his feet, standing at her side and then sat when he realized she was not yet moving, looking from his mistress to the man who smelled of smoke and flame.

"I look away because you don't like when I stare." she retorted before speaking again just as quickly, gold-hazel eyes gleaming with a cold light that isn't exactly hostile, but not friendly either, challenging as she answered his question. "Why don't you take me there and find out."
 
Oran is as surprised as Ana is when Shadow doesn't attempt to growl and bite his hand. Perhaps it's the smell of ham and other delicate meats he has on his fingers, occasionally using his pointer to help hold down a portion of his food so he can cut easier into it for his knuckles are bleeding from a good fight. Well, they're dry now but the pain still tingles and throbs. Oran even nearly drops his fork sometimes, a hiss coming from his lips and a scowl to his face. "Shadow is very well behaved, something I'm glad to see for most animals, in my experience, are savage beasts waiting to take a pound of flesh right out of me." Glancing to his brother, Ana might see him smirk once again but this time it's in a lighthearted manner. Him and his brother fight often, sometimes with weapons and other times without. Gev -is- helping him after all, preparing him at all hours of the day or night for a surprise attack. Oran even finds himself attacking Gev but it's less often.

"If you wish it, Princess, it will be done. You can freely sleep in your own quarters tonight. But if you must, well, if you have any sort of strange urge to have the comfort of me. I can't really see why -- anyway. Point is, my door will be open. All you have to do is knock." Thinking a husband would say something of that sort to his wife, Oran easily slips from his chair after she does, thinking it smart of her to beat him to it. Now he is starting to understand her independence and her rejection of all the 'princesses' Oran has met over the twenty-two years of his life. "How do you know I don't like it when you stare?" He ponders simply, walking next to her as they move out of the room. Most of the family members, his fellow Kel'korian's whisper and beam at one another, seeing the newly weds not cutting out one another's throats. Yet... Things seem to be on the mend, something that Oran silently is proud about. Seeing her different viewpoints may be a change of scene for him but he actually enjoys it. He would never let her know it but now he has become intrigued in her species, seeing that they aren't as savage as the ones he met on the battlefield.
 
This was going well. Surprisingly well and Ana found herself relaxing a little, wondering if maybe - must MAYBE - they might learn to get along. She made a face at his offer, at hearing his room was always open, but didn't comment as she looked around, realizing why he might have made such a comment. Right. They were married. She'd almost been able to forget that for two seconds. It had been nice. Oh well.

This was her new life and she might as well get used to it. Thinking about it, the Princess has to acknowledge that it could have been worse. She could have ended up with an abusive ***hole and while Oran is not warm and fuzzy, at least he has honor and he seems to be trying as long as she does. Makes her wonder if her own attitude is affecting his own. It's an interesting concept and more than likely true, but Ana doesn't want to ponder that too long so she doesn't. Instead she tells Oran she needs something from her room before they go and heads in that direction, answering his question as she does so, wondering what he might think of her reply.

"I can smell emotions if I desire to. When I look at you for too long, you get annoyed. I can smell it." She said it simply, no accusation in the words, very little emotion either as she didn't know how he would respond to hearing something like that.

She didn't wait for his comment, ducking into her room when they arrived at the door and ducking out almost as quickly with something wrapped in cloth under her arm. She flashes a short smile at Oran before starting to walk again, Shadow trailing faithfully behind, panting as he continues to keep an eye on the Kel'korian, but the canine is relaxed. Something that still puzzles Ana each time she glances at him.
 
"If you're going to apply any makeup, I can assure you that you don't need it." Oran informs her in a light manner, seeming to be nonchalant about complimenting her beauty for the last girl he had to court would stuff loads and loads of it on her face. The white powders as well as the heavy lipstick and whatever else girls use to highten their beauty. Leading her to the room, Oran easily opens the door for her. The oiled latches silently move as the door swings open. Knowing his place, the Warrior stays by the threshold, even looking out into the distance away from her room. Once she tells him that she can smell emotions, his heart drops to his stomach.

All this time he thought he was fooling her with his smiles and charm but it was all for naught. She knew that he was faking every single one of them and now he feels embarrassed to have been acting so foolishly. Closing his eyes, he thinks back to something he heard on the battlefield once. "Rolling yourself in mud or feces is the only trick, a stench so vile that not even the smartest of their kind will be able to smell the fear seeping from your flesh." His ringed hand comes to his chest, his heart noticeably beating faster and faster, not scared that she will be able to feel and know everything about him. Part of the fun, he thought, is the complete reign of him -tricking- her. Well, now he might have to actually be honest with his emotions. Perhaps when they're alone he will but as soon as all eyes are on them, they'll have to play their parts.

"She can only smell them if she desires to..." Oran whispers to himself, still feeling the weight shift around uncomfortably in his stomach. Once Ana returns, Oran's amber eyes lock onto the package underneath her arm. "Want me to carry that for you?" Once again, feeling as though he has to be polite, "Not that I don't think you can but..." Letting his words trail off, he doesn't even bother to correct himself. Walking down the hall in silence is something Oran is used to, hardly speaking unless he has something brilliant to add. Finally, they reach the sparring grounds, seeing the soldiers from the guard practicing with long pikes or spears. "Would you care to sit and watch or actually take part?" Those amber eyes lock onto hers now, or at least attempt to, wanting to give her the pleasure, if she must, of studying him.
 
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