Thread: A Necessary Evil [Prince x Insatiable]

I beg your pardon, my Lord Commander, but a messenger from the pass just rode in. Brennan Eadwig, Lord Commander and High Paladin of the Order of the Light, didn't acknowledge the interruption at first, instead continuing to silently kneel before the altar in his private chapel. His longsword was gripped point down and his forehead rested on the pommel in supplication, lips moving soundlessly as he finished reciting the Litany. Prayers were a brief solace for the battle weary general, his only respite from the many worries, doubts and fears that plagued him otherwise. He still prayed three times a day, a model of faith, and his men would never dare interrupt him unless the matter was truly urgent. Brennan's eyes opened at last, revealing light blue, almost gray, orbs that flicked to the nervous soldier standing at the door to his chapel. The man was young, a boy with a sword, but Brennan felt all his soldiers were like that these days, far too young to die. When had he begun to think such a thought? Recently he supposed, for Brennan was approaching forty and beginning to feel almost too old for war himself, although the tall, lanky and muscled body that rose from the floor was still a match for any of his much younger troops. The Lord Commander wore his full battle armor, the suit functional, plain and made of well nicked steel, with a thick white surcoat and matching cape draped over. A simple yellow star was set in the white, the symbol of Light, and was the only decoration he and his men ever wore. Aside from sleep, Brennan was always armored and carrying his sword, the dress a visible symbol that he was always vigilant in the fight against the Dark Lord. The Paladin's eyes looked troubled as he sheathed his sword and picked up his helm, his brow wrinkling and a frown appearing. His once blonde hair had darkened to a light brown over the years, with a few strands of gray, and he wore it pulled back neatly and tied into a small ponytail. Most who met him would call his face hard, with angular lines, chiseled cheeks and a strong jaw that made him look carved from stone. Only his eyes seemed alive in that otherwise stoic face, and their piercing, intense gaze could make a man flinch. But the few that he counted as friends had seen his rare smile and knew the rumors of his good looks, particularly in his youth, were not exaggerated despite the severe and humorless mask he wore these days. May you always walk in the light, my son, take me to him, the Paladin said as he walked out of the room. The pair descended the stairway from Brennan's chambers, heading towards the main hall, and with ever step the calm from Brennan's earlier prayers faded and was replaced by gnawing worry. The war against the Dark Lord had gone on for longer than Brennan's lifetime, and this war was only the latest skirmish in an eternal struggle. While the alliance of Kingdoms, led by the Order of the Light, had made great inroads against the enemy, the last couple years had been frustrating with only small defeats and no progress. Brennan couldn't help but feel that they were at a pivotal point in the war, with the Dark Lord gaining in strength every day and potentially massing for a secret assault. His private fear was that the tide might swing and do so under his watch. To fail the Order, and Light itself, was a thought that tormented his sleep. He would not let it happen. The army at the pass, from where this messenger rode, was Brennan's greatest source of anxiety. It was his largest gathering of troops and they defended a critical route from the Dark Lord's mountain strongholds. But, that army was also was meant to be an offensive force, although it hadn't moved in a year. He'd gathered it to try to make one major push to end this war forever, may Light be willing. His enemy was still weak, the Dark Lord rebuilding his physical form in the world, and if they could find and capture the talismans that provided his power and destroy them, the threat of Darkness would be ended for generations to come. If they could find them, however, which was proving to be impossible. And now his army sat, corrupting itself from idleness, rotting from within like fruit left out in the sun, bloating until it threatened to split from it's own foulness. My Lord Commander, said an exhausted and mud splattered soldier who stood unsteadily in the main hall. Brennan quickly moved closer and stopped the tired man from kneeling by gripping his shoulder, nodding at him to speak. I rode ahead of the main troop with news that we bring a captive back. My Lord, we caught her , with the help of the Southern mages... the demon bitch, the soldier said, face glowing with joy at sharing the news, although he blushed at the end from the crude name he used. Brennan knew the name, of course, and that evil woman's many other names, like Night Witch and Dream Taker, and even the ones that soldiers didn't dare whisper before him, like Cum Stealer. Her true name was Marzanna, or Mara, although his soldiers never said it out of fear. She had been the primary reason that his largest army had been rotting in vice for the last couple years. A half-demon enchantress, a sworn enemy of the Light, and deeply steeped in Darkness, Mara had been wreaking havoc inside the camp at the pass. She came to his men in their dreams at night, either leaving them so corrupted by morning that they abandoned their vows or, in the case of his Captains and leaders, slitting their throats. He'd had to order that all his officers have guards inside their tents to stem the deaths. She... she is chained as the mages have instructed, but still has powers it seems. Two of the guards last night fought each other out of desire for her, and one... he killed his brother soldier to have her! We found him having carnal relations with the demon bitch through the bars of the cage we are transporting her in, the messenger continued, looking uncomfortable. Then he added with a blush, And all of us had dreams last night... not strong ones, but troubling and sinful. Walk in the light, son, you have done well, confess your sins tonight, replied Brennan, squeezing the man's shoulder hard and giving him a rare smile. Turning to his assembled officers, he began to bark commands. Prepare the top of the South Tower for her, I want her held far away from where the men sleep. Rotating guards on her door, no more than four hour shifts once a week per man. Only I shall have the key. The men transporting her will need to be sent for meditation and confession, alert the Priests... Brennan felt a surge of excitement like he hadn't experienced in years. Aside from eliminating a thorn in his side, Mara was one of the Dark Lord's trusted Captains. She would certainly know the locations of the talismans and have insight into his secret plans, if Brennan could get her to talk that is. She would be tough to break and that thought made his stomach churn suddenly. The idea of this sexual, depraved creature in his hands was a little unsettling, it stirred a decidedly dark thrill that he didn't expect to feel, a shameful, sinful anticipation. He'd have to confess the emotion of course, and would conquer it with the help of the Light. For the benefit of his men, though, he knew he should handle her interrogation himself. The Light was strong with him, stronger than any of his soldiers, so she surely could not tempt him, could she?