Tales of Alavern 01 (Non-Canon)

"Of course. Thank you, head physic." Brianna said, receiving a courteous nod from Megara as she helped Naomi off of the bed. Her friend's legs seemed to want to give out at first, but quickly steadied after a moment and the two of them headed out towards the baths together.

"Are you ashamed of me, Brianna?" Naomi asked sullenly along the way.

"Not at all, my queen. You fought bravely and with honor, even when your weapon had been taken from you. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Brianna replied.

"I am your queen no longer, my friend. Please do not torment me with what I have lost this day."

"You may no longer be queen of the Alavern Isles, Naomi but you will always be my queen." Brianna told her with a smile. Naomi looked towards her with surprise that slowly melted into a smile as she wrapped her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly.

"Come Brianna. It's been some time since we've taken a bath together and I would like to speak of pleasant things for a while before we must deal with our problems again." Naomi said softly as Brianna opened the doors to the royal baths for her.

"As you command, my queen." she replied with a warm smile.

Chapter 6

Cyrus exited his sleep reluctantly as he felt someone's hand rocking his body and heard a voice saying something to him. He opened his eyes, looking up at the young woman currently moving him with her hand. She wore the same blue tunic that he had seen on many others while Brianna had been escorting his room and had raven black hair tied back into a ponytail. She gasped softly and backed away as he sat himself up and groaned, looking at him as though he were a bear coming out of hibernation. He couldn't help but think it a fair analogy considering how much he hated getting woken up and chuckled softly.

The servant girl remained silent and he flexed and stretched his body out, noticing only now that his shirt had been taken from him. He looked at the wrappings covering his wounds and assumed that someone must have taken his shirt off and treated him after he had passed out. He blushed a little, remembering he hadn't even managed to stay awake for three minutes after Brianna had left him before the bed's siren song lulled him to peaceful oblivion. He couldn't even remember if he had dreamed or if he had actually fallen unconscious instead of merely asleep.

"E-excuse me, man from outside..." the servant girl said nervously to him, shaking a little as she held some clothes out to him. Both of them were black, as his tee shirt had been but seemed to be made out of some fine material. He gently took them from her, trying to flash her a gentle smile.

"My name is Cyrus." he said gently to the young woman. "And thank you." She looked at him, taken aback for a moment as shock replaced her earlier nervousness. He could only imagine what must be going through her head at the moment, having grown up on tales of terrible men and the terrible things they would do if they ever came near her and suddenly meeting a man who turned all the tales into fiction.

"Oh, uh. Of course, Cyrus." she said, giving him a bow. "The physic who treated you as you slept said that you would need fresh clothing and some food. We are told you are here under authority of the crown, so please let any of us know if you require anything further." She gestured to the small table with two chairs that had been set up by the large glass doors that led to the balcony. On top of it was a small, cooked chicken and some vegetables on a simple plate with a fork. Just smelling the food made his stomach loudly grumble and the servant girl made a small squeak of fright at the sudden noise that Cyrus couldn't help but laugh at.

"Sorry about that. My stomach decided it needed to be heard." he said to her. She silently bowed in response, looking at him nervously once again before making herself scarce. He looked at the clothes in his hands and shrugged, changing into them quickly as he recalled everything the young woman had said to him. He admired the way Brianna had told the servants that he was here under authority of the crown. It wasn't a lie, but it didn't allude to the fact that the crown now meant him. She was clearly far more cunning than her temper had led him to believe at first, telling her people the information they needed to hear in a way that wouldn't cause any form of panic amongst them.

He stood up and went over to the table, his mouth watering at the smells emanating from the plate as he took a seat. The chicken had clearly been roasted over an open fire and he wondered how it would taste as he grabbed the fork and stabbed into it. The first bite had flooded his mouth with a simple and delicious flavor that made his appetite turn from hungry to ravenous. He began unashamedly tearing into the chicken, glancing over at the vegetables every now and again as he did so.

He had always been a meat and potatoes sort of person, but he didn't have access to the vitamins he used to balance out his nutrition here on this island. There was no telling when or if he would ever be able to make his way home and it was doubtful to him that they would have vitamin supplements on this island based on the technology he had seen so far. He grimaced as he chewed on a bite of chicken for a bit too long, talking himself into eating the veggies whether he wanted to or not and rationalizing it as much as he could until it finally overcame his picky eating habits.

He was pleasantly surprised at the flavors that hit his tongue and even his usual issues with the texture of most vegetables had been overcome through their method of cooking. He couldn't help but feel that the veggies his parents had made him choke down all those years ago had been a pale, tasteless imitation of the food he now ate in between ravenous bites of chicken. Before long he had finished all the food on his meal and noticed an honest-to-god goblet laying on the table nearby and picked it up. He sniffed the red liquid inside and could immediately tell it was wine, placing it down with a grimace on his face.

He had spent his entire life avoiding alcohol, despite his parents' best efforts to encourage a little social drinking, mostly due not enjoying the flavors.He had tried nearly everything under the sun, from cocktails to spirits but there was never anything that appealed to him. Later on though, drinking had become something that had destroyed his grandfather's relationship as well as the careers of more than a few promising young fighters he had been training. He had sworn it off entirely and gently pushed the cup away from him, hoping to be able to find some water or milk or something if he got thirsty later.

He patted his belly, full and satisfied from his meal when the door to the room suddenly opened up. Turning towards it, he suddenly found himself facing the queen once more. They looked at each other with equal shock, taking in the appearance of the other. The results of their fight were plain to see but it was the queen's attire that caused his mouth to hang open. She stood there in the doorway wearing a silken robe, her hair finely braided instead of the loose draping it had been earlier. Her eyes changed color again, shifting from a dull green color to a bright pink.

She huffed, slamming the door closed and stomped towards him in a way that was at complete odds with the constant grace he had seen her display earlier. She looked around at the room, scowling the entire time and he assumed that she thought he had trashed his room but the worst he had done was leave his shorts on the floor after changing into his new clothing. She huffed again, pouting in a manner he couldn't help but find a bit cute as she turned back towards him.

"What is the meaning of this?" she demanded, thankfully not yelling at him as she crossed her arms. "You may have defeated me and taken my throne, but this is still my room!"

He looked around again, taking better note of the ornamentation. Several ornate weapons hung from the walls, as well as a fantastic vanity and even a small bookshelf containing several scrolls. There was a large wardrobe that he hadn't even thought to look into, assuming it had been empty and that this had just been a guest bedroom until he finally remembered Brianna's words to him. She had said these were the royal chambers. He groaned, burying his face in his hands as he slowly shook his head.

"I apologize. I simply asked to be taken somewhere to rest and Brianna brought me here. When she said it was the royal quarters, I thought it was just because I was sleeping here now. It never occurred to me..." he said, stopping mid-sentence as he looked over towards her. Her glare had died down somewhat as she digested this information and he took a look outside. The clouds were still heavy, and the moon couldn't be seen but it was very clearly late based on how the sky looked. The rain from earlier had become a soft, soothing drizzle that pleasantly coated the island.

"These are the royal quarters." Naomi said to him, seeming less upset than before. "Normally, when someone ascends to the throne there is a period of a few days where the previous occupant moves their belongings out of the room and the new occupants' belongings are brought in." she explained to him, suddenly seeming like more of a teacher than a queen. "It has been quite some time since the throne has been passed on through battle. Normally the previous queen will choose her successor from a pool of worthy choices and the transition happens over a period of weeks. Obviously, there wasn't really time for that in this case."

"I see." Cyrus said, tapping his fingers against his chin in thought. He hadn't expected the oddly democratic form of monarchy she had just explained to him, having been under the impression that this whole island was some warrior society where the strongest were in charge. It was a pleasant surprise to him to see he was mistaken. "So I'm guessing the ability to legally take the throne through battle was put into your people's constitution as a failsafe then. In case someone abused their power and needed to be dethroned without the need for a revolution?"

"That...is absolutely correct." Naomi replied, looking at him with features that told him she was a little impressed he deduced that. "I suppose it would also be wise to tell you that you cannot simply make new laws and expect them to be so. While you have the power to declare edicts, those cannot clash or ignore existing laws. In order to make a new law, you must craft it and then present it to my...your people." she said, wincing as she corrected herself. "They will vote on it and if seven-tenths of the people agree to the law, then it goes into effect." He nodded, paying attention to every word she spoke as she went over to her vanity and started brushing her hair out.

"A democratic monarchy. Very interesting." he said to her, leaving the table and sitting himself upon the bed. "But more pressingly, what should we do about...well, the room situation?" he asked her. "A man hasn't been king since your people gained their freedom ages ago, so it's safe to say that we're going to be dealing with a lot of new territory for everybody."

"I...I suppose you're right." Naomi said, placing her brush down and staring at the countertop. "You are the rightful holder of the crown and these are the royal chambers so..." she choked on her words a moment, feeling suddenly sad about her loss all over again. "I shall leave. Ask to be placed into the soldier's barracks. The beds there are...serviceable."

She stood up to leave, shaking slightly as she looked over her room again for what she thought could be the last time. She started to walk, trying her best not to pay attention to her new king until she felt his hand grab her and wrap gently around her wrist. She turned towards him sharply, on her guard for what she thought might be another attack but was caught off guard when she saw the guilt and sorrow in his eyes.

"Look," he started, "like I told Brianna, I wasn't looking to become a king or rule over anyone. So as far as I'm concerned, you're still the queen and this is still your room. Okay?"

"You are the monarch, whether you like it or not." she responded, seemingly torn between wanting to tear her arm away from him and seeking comfort in their contact. "You cannot be made to sleep anywhere besides the royal chambers, which is here. That is law."

"Well then it's a dumb law, because it's hurting you." he said, eliciting a look of surprise from her. "Look, let's just..." he sighed, pausing as he searched for the right words to say. "We can figure this out tomorrow. Right now, it's late and we both need sleep. We're both adults, so let's just...share the bed this one night and we can figure out where to go from here tomorrow. Agreed?" he asked her.

She looked at him intently and he could tell from the familiar look in her eyes that she was searching for some trick or angle. He recognized the look from wearing it so many times himself whenever someone would actually treat him decently for a change when he wasn't in the boxing gym he worked at. Her face went through a few different expressions, her eyes changing color along with it until she finally turned back to face him with soft golden eyes and a look of calm on her face.

"Agreed."

Chapter 7

Naomi sat at her vanity, carefully undoing the braid that Brianna had put her hair in after their bath together. She couldn't help herself from stealing glances in the mirror at Cyrus behind her. He had taken his shirt off after taking the dishes from his earlier meal outside of the door for the servants to take away at some point and was currently stretching his body out in full view of her. He had explained that his stretches were meant to reduce how sore he would be from their earlier fight, but that wasn't what had kept her attention on him.

His body wasn't nearly as powerful-looking as she had suspected it would be. While his arms were thick and well-defined with trained muscle, his stomach actually had a slight layer of fat on it. His chest was broad, matching his wide shoulders well and giving him the air of someone strong but gentle. What had surprised her most about seeing him without a shirt had been the body hair and the scars. He assured her that the hair was normal for an adult man, embarrassing her with his laughter when she had asked if he had glued it to his body as some sort of trophy. The scars, however, he had been very reluctant to talk about.

Injuries indicative of all sorts of wounds covered both his front and back. She had thought them merely leftovers from past battles, but he had informed her that very few of the scars had come from a fight. He refused to tell her more as she asked what else could have possibly happened and while she wanted to respect his need for privacy, her curiosity burned powerfully within her mind. She watched him finish his stretching and crack the balcony door open, watching the gentle rain with a serene, distant look on his face.

"Could you leave that open?" she asked him as she untangled the last of her braid. "The sounds of gentle rain might help sleep come easier tonight, given the unusual circumstances we have both agreed to."

"Not a problem." he said, flashing her a small smile before needing to cover a yawn with his hand. She watched him go around and extinguish the lights in the room like she had shown him earlier, which left only the light illuminating her vanity. The crown she had owned just a few hours earlier sparkled in the new lighting, drawing her eye to it. He had placed it in front of her, claiming that it still belonged to her and she simply didn't have the will to continue arguing with him about it anymore.

She forced her gaze away from it as she grabbed her hairbrush once again, straightening her hair out to make sure it wouldn't tangle in her sleep tonight. She watched him form, the lighter of her vanity illuminating him softly as he went over to the bed and tucked himself in under the covers. Naomi felt her face heat up watching him so intently, realizing that she had agreed to share a bed with him for the night and what that would normally entail.

"Good night." he called out softly to her as he curled up underneath the covers. She took a deep breath, forcing her face to return to normal as she finished brushing out her hair and stood up. She extinguished her vanity's light and turned back towards the bed, noticing that he seemed to already have his eyes closed. She sighed in relief, knowing he wasn't watching her as she shed her silken robe. She stood in the room covered now only by a pair of peach-colored string panties as what little light from the sky outside reflected off of her silver nipple piercings. She walked over towards the bed, flinching when she saw Cyrus freeze slightly as she came near.

She wondered for a second if he was gazing upon her body and the thought made the heat return to her face, burning her cheeks a much brighter red than they had been before. When he didn't move further, she took it as a sign that it was merely reflex and quickly crawled over him onto her own side of the bed. As she pulled up the covers to climb underneath them, she found she could make out his many scars even in the dark. As she climbed underneath the covers, she found her eyes drawn to them and reached out to touch him.

His whole body tensed as she absently ran her fingers over his back, contemplating the secrets that he had kept to himself. If these scars hadn't been made in battle, then what else could there be? Perhaps an accident involving a group of animals? If that were the case though, she doubted that he wouldn't just state that outright. Her attention snapped back to reality as she saw him shivering slightly underneath her touch and the question came naturally to her lips once again.

"How did you get these?" she asked softly, not really expecting an answer.

"You really wanna know that bad?" he answered quietly, catching her off guard. She laid there silent for a moment, her fingers never leaving his back before she managed to find her voice again.

"I do." she replied softly, drawing closer to him. She felt him tense up again as she did but refused to back away.

"I wasn't always a boxer." he started, his voice seeming more weary than she had heard it in the short time she had known him. "When I was a kid, I was pretty scrawny. Worse yet, I was really book smart. I got picked on a lot by other kids, mostly older boys. They'd gang up on me and beat me down until they were satisfied, laughing and mocking me the whole time. It only got worse as I got older, and the few times I actually started to fight back had just ended up with me being punished for it because I was one kid and they were a bunch so it was easier to punish me for the fights."

She gasped softly, unable to imagine a child being beaten and punished for trying to defend themselves. He shifted in the bed, turning himself around to face her and his entire expression shifted as his face turned bright red.

"Why are you naked?!" he shouted, trying to back away in a panic. She cocked her head in confusion, grabbing his arm to keep him from leaving the bed.

"I am not naked, and you are not wearing a shirt either. Now finish your tale." she said, her commanding tone present once again. He floundered a bit, his face still bright red as he tried and failed to come up with words for a moment. He surrendered quickly and let himself be laid back down on the bed, trying to keep his eyes from wandering over her body.