Lord Perrelister had concluded a rather dull conversation with a party member he wasn't even sure he had invited. Something about...horses. Gods, he couldn't even remember what they spoke of. He never did enjoy small talk. He was certainly never good at it. He found it drab and superficial, a means of outdoing one another in perhaps the most passive agressive of means.

By the front doors of his once lavish residence stood his daughter, awaiting the arrival of Siegfried Whitelocke. If his wishes were to be granted, and Sir Whitelocke would court his daughter, his influence would rise immensely. It's been nearly three years since the destruction of his warehouses, his exposure as a criminal, and his rapid decline in wealth and influence. When Joras Freemane caught wind of his drug smuggling operation of Jade's Blossom, the King left Canton with two choices: life in prison, or the names of his accomplices and the forfeiture of his ill-gotten funds. He opted for the latter.

Perhaps joining the Whitelocke family through marriage could bolster his reputation and polish his tarnished reputation, even if just by a little.

His daughter did look stunning. Her scarlet hair was flowing behind her back, a braid running down the center, just like how his wife used to style her hair. She had worn one of her mothers old ball dresses. The fabric felt as if it was just made. A beautiful white lace dress decorated with jade green floral designs. She ignored most of the men who sought to court her, much to Lord Perrelister's pleasure. He finished his goblet of wine and sent a servant for more. He pretended to converse with another to avoid anymore conversations that would bore him.

After what seemed like hours, he saw the fair haired ranger make an entrance. His daughter and him exchanged a glance. He nodded and she understood. She left to speak with Siegfried.

"Sir Whitelocke," she said, giving him a lady like bow. "We are delighted you could make it."

Siegfried examined the party crowd. No one he recognized, not one who hailed from the noble families of Jorden. There were many of the small wealth and stature, something Siegfried found strange. He didn't care, either way, as he solely came for the company of the mysterious scarlet haired women.

"I wouldn't miss such a party. How do you fare?" He asked.

She smiled and nodded. "I'm well. Care for some food?" She gestured to a large table in the center of the mansion, topped with an abundance of foods.

Siegfried wasn't particularly hungry, but fearful of being rude, had accepted. She led him to a table decorated with various, succulent appetizers. He helped himself to the tail of a clawfish and some roasted pork, and the two sat at a small table in the corner of the room, away from the more obnoxious party goers. He washed down his meal with a gulp of wine and continued conversing with the scarlet haired woman.

"So...will I find out your name tonight?" He asked.

She gave him a playful smile. "My name is Leyanne. Leyanne Perrelister."

"A beautiful name," said Siegfried.

She once again flashed that smile that Siegfried found near irresistible. "Why thank you. My father takes pride for having come up with it himself."

"Did he now?" Said Siegfried as he scoped out the party, the attendees and their "costumes". He caught Lord Perrelister himself watching them from a ways away. His small black eyes studied him as if he were a beast in the wild. His chestnut brown hair was fashioned into a many braids behind his back. His goatee hung a little below his chin, curling at the end. His face was hard, and he made Siegfried uncomfortable, a sensation difficult for most people to make him feel.

"So how long have you been in Jorden?" He asked Leyanne, quick to escape the consuming gaze of her father.

"Since I was a young girl. My father met my mother when he was a soldier in the King's Royal Army. He brought her here from Arnland and soon after, I was born. What about you, Sir Whitelocke."

"Siegfried, if you would. I hail from the north, though I wouldn't call myself a Northman. My father sent me here a few years back to join the order."

"Why?" Leyanne inquired.

Siegfried shrugged and sipped his wine. "To make a man out of me, I suppose."

"Interesting," she responded. Her father, Lord Perrelister, had begun maneuvering through the crowd, quick to make the acquaintance of Siegfried.

"Mister Whitelocke," he said arriving at their table, "a pleasure. I am Lord Canton Perrelister." He offered a hand that looked to be awaiting a kiss rather than a handshake, though Siegfried shook it all the same.

"A rather exciting party, Lord Perrelister," said Siegfried with a hidden nugget with of sarcasm.

Perrelister gave a dry smile. "I see you've met my daughter. Lovely, isn't she?"

"Indeed," said Siegfried, nodding at Leyanne. His eyes were fixed on her the entire conversation, not once did he look at Perrelister.

"Be sure to try the clawfish. Imported from the Frozen Sea," said Lord Perrelister.

"Already have. Quite delicious."

Perrelister smiled and nodded. He wished them a good time and left, keeping an eye on their interaction.

The noise of the party had greatly quieted, as Siegfried could tell many party goers were dulled, as if the party did not meet their expectations. He didn't think that would be the case, as it was no secret the Perrelister lost a considerable amount of wealth these past few years. The trial cost him his fortune and dignity, and his criminal allies would surely jump at a chance to slit his throat, if only he hadn't given up their names to the king.

It was more a tavern than a Lord's party, though Seigfried felt a tavern at noon would have more life than what Lord Perrelister had sought for tonight. Despite the interaction with Leyanne, he too found himself growing bored.

"Would you like to head to a tavern or place like one?"

Leyanne frowned. "You mean leave the party?"

Seigfried smiled, and shrugged. "Only if you're up for it...I know a nice little place. Serve the finest wine."

"I wonder what the finest wine tastes like on the lips of a Whitelocke."

Siegfried slightly raised his right eyebrow. "You may find out later," He pushed aside the goblet full of the cheap, dry wine that a servant had given him.

"So...what do you say?"

Leyanne looked back at her father then again at Siegfried. She smiled, this time showing teeth. "Lets go..."

Siegfried smiled devilishly. He quickly rose and took Leyanne's hand. As they made their way to the great entrance, he could hear what he presumed to be Lord Perrelister calling after her.

"Leyanne! Where in the bloody abyss are you going!" He yelled after. Siegfried turned and gave a jested bow to the party thrower. "Come back here this instant!" Shouted Canton. Leyanne giggled and they both left, running from the grand house to the streets of Jorden.

*****

They burst into the tavern, the Drunken Wolf, laughing and giggling. They rested against a wall, trying to regain their breath.

"I've never done something like this before," Leyanne said with a giggle.

Siegfried took someone's wine bottle from the table and gulped down a couple drinks. He hardly tasted the wine, but felt his head become a little light.

Leyanne smiled at him. "I imagine everyday is fun for you, isn't it, Lord Whitelocke?"

Seigfreid felt a tug at the corner of his mouth. "I suppose so. My days could use a woman's touch though, if I'm completely honest."

Seigfreid could see color rise in Leyanne's cheeks. "I imagine you'd soon tire of me if I were to spend every day with you. What if I get on your nerves?"

"Then I'll get under your skin," Seigfreid said with heavy breath.

The stare Leyanne gave him just there was enough to drive a man mad. "I'm afraid nothing can get under my skin," she near whispered.

Seigfreid looked her up and down. "Then I'll settle for getting under your clothes."

Leyanne's cheeks were painted red. She cleared her throat, tucked her hair behind her ear, and stuttered out "My lord father will be furious when he discovers we've left."

Seigfreid smirked. Clever girl. "You learn to hate your father," he said as he licked up the bottle. He dropped it on the floor next to him and went from the side of Leyanne to her front.

"And why do you say that?" she asked.

He put his palm flat against the wall next to her, and kept his face only inches from hers. "You see...fathers only want children for a few things...and that's power and money. They only use their kids to advance their motives. Could you not tell with your own father?"

Leyanne blushed. "Yes...unfortunately."

Siegfried nodded, and shifted his weight. "But enough about fathers. They kill the mood."

She laughed. "That they do." She spoke in such a soft, seductive manner. "But what makes you say those things about your father?"

"My father has no love for me. He wishes I was someone I'm not. He wants me to be this man, this legendary warrior who has the skill to conquer all of Sylvetria...but I'm not that kind of man."

"And what kind of man are you, Siegfried?" Leyanne asked.

Siegfried contemplated her question. The truth was too shameful to tell and a lie no better. "I suppose you'll have to find out," was his answer.

Leyanne was giving into his charm. There was some sort of underlying tone in is voice, one that pulled her in with every word he spoke. He certainly had his ways.

"So what was it like in that castle out there?" She asked.

Siegfried had grown tired of answering this question, but would answer it one more time for her.

"Dark...dangerous. There was a foul stench in the air, like rotten beasts. The monsters that lurked there...like nothing I've ever seen. I barely escaped with my life."

"Monsters? What were the monsters like?"

"They were like men, but...bestial. They had the sharpest teeth and longest claws. They're eyes were like snow and their skin a muddy brown."

"Did you kill any of them?" She asked, intrigued by his description of the monsters.

"I did indeed. Slashed one open with my halberd."

Leyanne's eyes were full of wonder and lust, and she slightly pushed her chest out. "Will you write a song about what happened?"

Siegfried smiled. "I'll leave that to the bards...the best stories never come from the man himself."

He could see the interest swelling in her eyes, the way she moved her body, the way she'd bite her lip. He had her.

"What about you? What dangers have you braved?" He smiled softly.

She held his gaze seductively. "A rabid dog once stole into our house many moons ago...my servants and I were able to fight it off."

"Hmm...did it bite you?" Siegfried asked flirtatiously.

She returned his advance. "Almost...on my leg."

Siegfried looked down on her leg, pouting. "The leg is an area most most tender. A place to be protected."

"And how should one protect it?" Leyanne said.

"A warrior would tell you with steel, a scholar with knowledge..."

"And you?"

Siegfried leaned into her ear, and spoke softly. "A man's hands are safer than steel," he said, placing his left hand on her upper thigh below her hip. He brought his head back from her ear and held her gaze.

Leyanne kept her eyes locked with his. "And if it had bit my lip?"

Siegfried closed any space left between their bodies.

"It'd have been a shame."

She smiled, drawing her lips to the right side of her face. "And why is that?"

He leaned in and kissed her, her bottom lip placed between both of his. He met her tongue, and theirs danced together, sparks and tingles lighting up Siegfried's spine. The way she kissed, the way she moved, she was unlike any woman Siegfried had before. He couldn't wait till he had her in his bed.

A moment passed and he pulled away. "I wouldn't have been able to do that," he said.

She smiled at him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He kissed her again, gently sucking on her full, bottom lip. His right hand found it's place on her hip, his other still in the same position on her other upper thigh.

The feeling was magical, and Leyanne moaned into his mouth. His fruits were swelling, growing in his trousers, commanding his every move. Siegfried felt her hand wrap around his crotch, and thoughts and feelings of sex dominated his brain. He would have this woman tonight.

His fantasies shattered within his mind as a hand wrapped around his neck. Siegfried's eyes flew open in shock as he was yanked away from Leyanne, rapidly stumbling backwards, held up only by the strength of the assailant. He could see a dark skinned forearm attached to the hand placed below his chin. He felt his back slam again a post, causing his head to whip back into the wood. A fist struck his face, and he placed his own hands on the forearm, trying to release himself. He tore his eyes away from the forearm and up to the face. His jaw dropped as he recognized his attacker.

Tytus Baronstone.

His fist struck Siegfried once again. He felt both of Tytus' hands latch onto his neck. His own hands tried to pry Tytus' away.

"You piece of shit..." Said Tytus. His grip grew tighter and tighter.

"Ty, Tytus...what!? I don't-" Tytus removed a hand from his throat and shoved it into Siegfried's gut. The laughter and conversations from the crowd had ceased, all eyes on the encounter. Siegfried had managed to summon the strength necessary to push Tytus off him. He wiped the blood from under his nose and coughed.

"Tytus...how the, the fu..."

"You're some kind of hero, aren't you!" Tytus yelled at him. "What did you tell these people!? Did you give them some sort of sob story as to how you barely escaped with your life!?"

He turned to face the crowd. "Do you believe this man to be a hero?" He shouted to the crowd. No one dare answered him "Is he a hero to you? Is that how he made himself to be, a damn hero?!" Tytus stared back at Siegfried menacingly, "good men died because of....men better than you'll ever be!"

Siegfried was in a whirl. Across the room, he could see Leyanne shedding tears of disbelief. She shook her head and quickly ran to the door that led outside. He quickly tried to run after her, but Tytus caught him by the collar, slamming him down backwards. Siegfried felt the air completely leave his lungs as he gasped for more. Tytus picked him up from the floor and held him out in front of him.

"We all could've escaped you know. All of us! Maybe not Darius or Gregor, but Gallador...Irving...Danticus, they'd all be alive if it weren't for your cowardly actions!" He shoved Siegfried down again.

"Perhaps I should tell the crowd just what you did. What kind of man you are."

Siegfried quickly rose. He grabbed a wine bottle discarded on the floor and slammed it against Tytus' head. It shattered and left Tytus dazed, but he recovered in time to catch Siegfried's flying fist. He twisted his hand around in his and yanked downwards, causing his wrist to break.

"Agghhh...fuck!" Seigfried cried.

Tytus grabbed him by his collars again and pushed Siegfried back into a table. He punched him a few times and then ran him along the piece of furniture, causing him to collide with many bottles and foods. They reached the end and Siegfried fell onto a pile of broken bottles. He laid in agony as he felt small pieces of glass embed themselves in his skin. Tytus decided he had enough, but for good measure, kicked him in the gut one last time, causing Siegfried to slightly vomit. Tytus spat at him.

"As Arch Ranger...I hereby expel you from the order. Your rank, status and housing are hereby removed. Any attempt to meddle in the affairs of the Order will result in your death. I'll spare your life this once Siegfried...only because I know the life you are going to live will be worse than any death I could give you, damn traitor." He turned swiftly and burst through the tavern doors, leaving in an angered haste.

The stunned crowd had all looked down upon the broken Siegfried. He picked his body up from the floor and slumped against the wall. They all stared at him menacingly. He straightened himself out and placed his hand on the now broken rib Tytus kicked in. He let out a sigh as the crowd burst into a angered shouting.

"Your a disgrace!" Said one person

"Traitorous asshole!" Said another.

He felt someone's spit splatter across his cheek. He wiped it off and quickly stumbled to the doors, quick to escape the wrath that would ensue. They chased after him, entranced in a mob mentality. Rain had come down, a thin sprinkle at first.

Siegfried ran as rain, coming down harder and harder each second, pelted his bruised, bloody face. He ran harder as he could hear the vengeful crowd behind him. He took a sharp right and and quickly ducked under a stationary carriage. His wrist burned with pain and mud caked onto him. He could see the feet of the twenty-something membered crowd stampede by, all hungry for his blood. He let them gain some distance before crawling out from underneath. He wiped off as much of the mud as he could and spit out a piece of a tooth Tytus had broken off. He slowly shuffled towards an empty bench in front of an inn. He fell onto it, too hurt to sit properly.

He tried to recollect what just happened. The expedition members were clearly alive...they somehow escaped. But not all of them, it seemed. What did Tytus say? Gallador, Irving, Danticus...they were all dead? He started to cry. He felt salty tears burn that cuts that ran along his face. He sat there, silently weeping in the pouring rain. What had he done? He wanted to strangle himself for the things he knew he could never atone for. Why did he abandon them? What was he thinking? He stomped his foot in the rainy mud below him. It splattered upwards and peppered his face. He knew now he was going to die. Maybe not by Tytus...but Joras would have his head on a pike any day now.

"Lovely..." He murmured.

*****

(Thanks for reading, and I'd love to know what you think! Sound off in the comments! Your feedback is always appreciated!)