November 5, 1168
Scowls did not suit Ylwa's full, pouty lips, but for the past year or so, harsh frowns seemed to be all they were capable of forming. Where was his smirking, devious lover of all those otherwise torturous seasons? His steadfast partner in both love and cruelty? The mother of his children and his schemes alike? Deian didn't know this scowling creature who had taken her place. "You're going again?"He supposed he couldn't blame her--it was his fifth trip this year, and the hunt for humans of a particularly scrumptious flavor was only a secondary reason for his absences. Nonetheless, he wasn't about to cave; he nodded. "I shan't be long--and I shall try to bring back more food this time, I promise."
Ylwa sniffed in disbelief. He'd show her; talk among the predatory animals was that near his destination lay a village of Norsemen of the most savory variety. "Why are you even wasting all your energy running around the continent looking for the Talisman in the first place? I still say it's easier to just slaughter all the Dovians and have a nice pot of soup to greet the ancestors with."
Oh, how long it had been since the mouth-watering scent of Dovian soup had filled their walled enclosure! He knew that they had to keep a low profile for now, but he did miss the occasional indulgence of that saliferous broth. How delightful it might have been to make a soup from Severin--or, better yet, to make a soup from some other Dovian and make Severin watch! And then, to make him eat it! The very thought nearly brought a smile to his lips.But alas, he had more pressing matters to attend to right now. "Ylwa, we've been over this; if we keep the Dovians alive, then we'll be granted the pleasure of being able to torture them for all eternity."
"And would that really be worth all these extra years in this hellhole?" Her voice held such venom that he hadn't heard since she'd been in the process of giving birth to their younger son. "I don't know how much more I can take of an accursed mortality in this damned valley! I found another gray yesterday--would you believe it?""I see nothing but shimmering magenta," Deian did his best to assure her, "and I promise you it will be worth it."
"It had better be!"
Nodding, he took her face in his hands and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It will be--I already have some unbelievably sadistic ideas taking form in this head of mine.
"And if I know you but at all... well, yours will be even more wonderfully vindictive."She stared at him for a few tense seconds, then released a small smile; it was nice to finally have some relief from that scowl. "Oh, I can assure you, they will be. But my patience is far from infinite, Deian. If you take too long to find that Talisman, then we will be returning to the original plan, and you won't have a say in the matter."
Deian sighed; he didn't want to have this same argument over and over again. "Yes, dear."
Ylwa's lips curled upwards as she gazed coolly through narrowed eyes. It was the same face she made when they were making love. "And really, Deian, if you don't find it this time, then at least make good on your promise to bring back a healthy supply of food--seriously, if they aren't properly stewed, these Dovians are far too salty to make a decent meal."
NEXT CHAPTER:
9 comments:
Sorry about the short post :(
So those Dovians really are salty. Huh. I always thought that was one of Tavrin's jokes. ;)
Interesting that there's trouble brewing in the ranks of the Naroni ... hopefully it won't bubble over until whoever needs to die in order to get rid of them does so! *crosses fingers*
It's probably something Tavrin picked up from listening to his elders. I can't see Tavrin himself eating people, but I think it was confirmed earlier that Deian and Co. really do.
Heh. With a king like Roderick, there's always trouble brewing in the ranks of Naroni :P
hehehe Salty Dovans.
Hunh, so the grays and magentas that they are seeing... Is this related to that death-color... I forget which of the children can see the color of death settling on Naroni.
And what is this Talisman that will help them to, I assume, pick-off the Naronians and then return to where they came from?
Here's a question, if their ancestors ever took them back, would Tavrin and his sister go too? What would happen to them?
Heh. The thing with the colors was just a note to the fact that Deian and Ylwa are aging, even if they're doing so at a relatively slow rate. Ylwa's been fretting about her hair for a while now.
The Talisman won't affect the Dovians directly. It's more of an intermediate step that Deian has to take. But more on that later :P
As for Tavrin and his sister and their cousins, they'll probably remain. They're old enough to take care of themselves now, and they do have this fascination with humans that their forebears never had.
What is this talisman and is there any possibility that finding it might save the Dovians? The salty ones anyway...
Here I thought Deian was the master of his domain. It looks as though he doesn't quite wear the pants (figuratively).
So long as Deian actually finds it, it can be assumed that the Dovians will be (relatively) safe :)
Heheh. Deian is pretty whipped :P
Took me a little while to get here and catch up, and how I'm completely fascinated! So the talisman will provide at least some measure of safety for the Dovians? If Deian can actually find it...
And it surprised me too is see how whipped Deian is!
I love the dark shots: the atmosphere is perfect!
No worries :)
Yeah, as long as Deian can find this thing, he has no reason to slaughter everyone (er, keyword = "everyone"--he might still slaughter "someone"). And I suppose behind every great man (using the term "great" pretty loosely)... well, you know the rest :P
Thanks, Beth. It's kind of a weird lot and I'm always wary about shooting on it, but I'm glad it worked here :)
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