Pride Pt. 01 - The Hunter

He'd seen Abductor's Syndrome in the past, and knew the countess suffered of it. Aleron found it somewhat common for noble-born ladies to find a strange comfort within the rough hands of their lowborn kidnappers, soon coming to the conclusion that they're simply better off with their captors than at home. He noticed Jasmina's grimace as he guided her to her feet.

"Uh... ler ler ler..." Aleron heard weakly from behind, realizing he'd left one of the bandits alive. He released the countess' hand and swiftly made his way over to the man writhing on the floor. A swift boot to the skull ended the man's trip down deathcap lane.

The countess held a horrified grimace when the hunter's gaze returned to her. "You're a monster," she declared, crossing her arms at her chest.

Aleron chuckled fiendishly. "And you, my lady, are unclothed," he retorted, scanning her form from thigh to breast. "But since you are... think you have another round in you?" he added with an amused shrug. The countess huffed, suddenly finding her nakedness undignified and covered her pert breasts with an arm.

At least he tried.

Aleron walked towards the short row of tents, scanning each of them for additional opponents. Each one reeked of sex, an additional clue that Aleron didn't need to know that the countess had been obscenely busy in the last week.

"Are there any others?" he asked calmly, scanning the treeline behind her.

"Hmph."

"My lady, if there are more out there we're both in danger, the fact is that I'm the-"

"No! There are no more sir, you murdered them all," she answered, her quivering voice filled with hostility. Aleron found the answer quite pleasant, however, and a pressure was lifted from his back. He unstrapped his shield.

"Good, good. Do you have any clothes? I simply cannot return you as you are," he grinned.

The countess shook her head pitifully, her gaze falling to the floor. Aleron sighed, making his way back towards her. He unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around her indecent form.

"No problem, my lady. You have more back at the carriage," Aleron said. The countess did not appear at all reassured. "Sorry... about ruining your vacation, countess," he added, knowing that the woman likely did not want to return to Marco. Aleron had found him rotund, not a pretty sight to look at, and somewhat of a dim-wit on top of that.

But Aleron wasn't getting paid to do what made the countess happy. He gathered his pack, crossbow, and the daggers which he could find before setting off to gather his horse with the countess in tow.

--

The pair made their way back to the carriage through the forest, the route back taking less than half the time now that Aleron knew the way. He let the countess ride on his horse for the entire journey, finding himself unable to allow her to travel barefooted in shame.

He held onto the reins at all times, of course. She was worth sixty Imperials, and she wouldn't be let out of his sight for long. The countess was silent for much of the day, entirely on her part. Aleron had tried unsuccessfully to strike conversation no less than a dozen times.

Once they returned to the carriage site, he allowed her to dress appropriately. Aleron was surprised by her transformation when she returned from the cabin, eventually, after a long twenty minutes.

"Lovely," Aleron praised, "it barely looks like you were fucked by a horde of dirty peasants."

"Shut it, sir. Just take me home," Jasmina replied with a frown.

--

Aleron walked behind the countess as they stepped into the hall of Count Marco's castle, the residents of the large estate already gathering in the wings as news of her safe return spread throughout the city.

"My dearest wife, thank the gods for your safe return," Marco's voice boomed as he descended from his throne with arms outstretched.

"My husband," Jasmina replied bitterly. "You should be thanking this man instead." The countess waived roughly in Aleron's direction, clearly not sharing in her husband's jovial glee. Aleron shrugged with a smirk when the count's eyes shifted his way.

Count Marco continued down the steps and wrapped his arms around the countess. "But of course," he replied, forcing a smile for their audience's sake. Marco pushed off from her gently after only a moment. "Aleron, let us speak of reward in the back room. If you'll follow me."

Aleron nodded, following the count up the stairs. He looked behind himself as he ascended, giving the countess one last subtle nod as he passed her. The count led him to a small antechamber behind the throne, only the steward of the castle joining the pair to discuss business.

"My gratitude, Aleron. I had expected the worst," Marco thanked with honesty, now that the eyes and ears of the court were behind them.

"Anything for a days pay. Speaking of," Aleron replied anxiously.

"But of course! I believe we agreed on... forty Imperials?"

"Sixty."

Marco didn't miss a beat. "Of course, of course! Gergio, if you could."

"Yes, m'lord," the steward of the estate replied monotonously, bowing as he left the room.

The room was silent as Aleron was left alone with the count, the hunter not finding anything in particular that he wanted to say.

"So. Jasmina. Was she...?" Marco asked nervously. Aleron knew of what he spoke, and decided there were no harm to his own character or reputation in revealing the truth.

"Yes, my lord. I would not trust any child she bears in the coming year," Aleron replied truthfully. Marco looked dejected for just a second before returning to his serious attitude.

"'Tis a shame, that. But reasons like these are why the gods invented moon tea," the count replied sternly. Aleron found the thought distasteful, but made no move to argue. The count's immediate rebound from the news only proved further why the countess had not wanted to return.

"She's your wife," Aleron shrugged. The pair shared another minute of awkward silence before the steward arrived with his gold.

"Sixty golden Imperials, as per the arrangement," Gergio offered succinctly, handing the pouch to Aleron with the world's slightest bow.

"My thanks, steward. Count Marco," Aleron nodded as he turned to leave the room, deciding there could be nothing more discussed with present company.

--

Aleron returned to the noisy chamber of the count's throne room, the countess now surrounded by her young handmaidens who danced around her worriedly. He descended the stairs, tossing the coin pouch in his hand as he whistled happily.

"Excuse me, ladies," he said as he stepped around the gaggle of young women. He had just made it to the base of the steps when he heard the countess speak up behind him.

"Thank you, Alanon. For rescuing me," Jasmina finally acknowledged, albeit with the wrong name.

"Any time, my lady," he replied without turning towards her, giving her a lazy wave over his shoulder.

He was already dreaming of a well-earned vacation. He'd been looking for work for the past three months before this, and could already taste the fine wines and rich pastas of Santaria. He dreamt of food, of limitless rest, and even of a potential return to Catriona to chase down a former lover. Aleron wondered if she would even-

"Oof. Sorry, miss. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm-" the girl started, her eyes widening with realization. "It's you! You brought the countess back! I'm sure Count Marco is very pleased," she beamed, her pretty smile forcing him to share the same expression. He immediately turned towards her.

"Something like that. The happy couple reunited again," Aleron started sarcastically, still absentmindedly tossing the coin pouch in his hand. She giggled at his jest. "At least he pays well," he added.

"I'm sure he appreciates it all the same, my lord." The girl spoke with an undeniable commoner's accent, a pleasant song to Aleron's ears.

He looked her over, realizing the lass was in fact a bit older than he had first made her out to be. He couldn't see much of her under her rumpled servant's dress, but her face was a decent sight. Deep green eyes, a button nose, thin lips, and flat eyebrows that gave her face a perpetually sympathetic sort of look. Her dark brown hair was tied in a messy bun behind her head, held by a blue ribbon.

"Please, miss, I dealt with lords and ladies my whole journey here and I'd appreciate it if a pretty lass such as yourself didn't throw me in with that lot," he joked as the girl giggled again.

"Apologies, m-"

"Aleron, please," he interjected with an outstretched hand. The girl took it with a smile.

"Natalie. Sorry, Aleron, I'm so used to calling most peoples around here milord or lady," she laughed again. Aleron found her vivacious demeanor intoxicating, civilized yet innocent as if she had not been broken by the cruel reality of the world quite yet. He wagged a single finger at her.

"No problem, so long as you promise not to do it again," he chuckled, Natalie returning the favor.

"Promise," she said succinctly.

He decided that he wanted her then and there, finding her playful mannerisms adorable. Catriona could wait.

"Say, would a beautiful miss such as yourself care to show a lonely man around Heurbon? I just came into a bit of coin, you see, and am wondering who best to spend it on," Aleron grinned. Her eyes lit up, as if it were the first time she had been the center of anyone's supplication. Aleron had used the same line on a couple of women before her, sometimes to good result even.

"M-My. Aleron, I would of course. I'm not needed here after supper. Perhaps you can rejoin me at the gates then? A bit after sundown? Is that okay?" Natalie answered anxiously with a torrent of questions. Aleron chuckled.

"Sure, Natalie. I'll use the time to look somewhat proper," he joked, realizing his beaten and bloodied leather armor would simply not suffice, at least if he hoped to woo her successfully. "I'll be at the gates a bit after sunfall."

Natalie nodded, flashing him a wide smile then skipped down the halls. Aleron almost felt almost sorry for the girl, having agreed to be seen in public with a rough man twice her age.

Almost.