Thread: The Prince's Plight

Oh Lox put every ounce of contempt and viciousness into the smile he gave her that it appeared as nothing more than the insane snarl of a wolf about to bite somethings neck. Why don't you find a spine and try for my life as I am whore? I'd be more amicable if I had my armor and weapons once more. Sure I'd die eventually, but then I could take you and a few score of those oh so frightening men with me in single combat before dying myself. He hated her outright, despised the fact that she was treating him as an inferior when any man would have reservation at such an underhanded way of taking another prisoner. And still he couldn't bring himself to rising and dashing her against the stone wall until nothing but a mangled sack of meat remained. He wanted to meet her in single combat, an honorable death match to prove beyond a doubt that if she hadn't caught him already downed then she wouldn't stand a chance against him fairly. But with the way things were going even he couldn't maintain the towering rage that had fueled him up unto this point and simply turned back to look up longingly again at the window so very far away. If given the chance he could escape without too much difficulty but gods knew he wouldn't be given that opportunity during his stay, not after breaking so many heads and wreaking havoc still half chained and surrounded unarmed by full armored guards. Go away whore. Every single moment I spend with you here or in public will be a display of my utmost hate and disdain for the swine bred cowards that make up this country. I would sooner murder you in disgrace and renounce my family and country before I serve as your slave. Already his mind was turning to ways he could tear apart the frame of the small bed in his room and use the stones to grind them into stakes to use against the guards. It wouldn't take much to kill a few of them, and then once he had their weapons he'd be able to survive for a while before his injuries brought him down or a lucky shot by an armored opponent which made everything even more dreary. He slid easily off the bed and sat directly on the floor with his legs crossed carefully underneath him as he removed his sling and allowed his hands to gently rest in his lap as his head bowed gently. It was difficult to clear his mind when so much anger still seethed within him, and the fact that as his mind emptied he became starkly aware of the soft even breathing of his hated enemy still so very close at hand. Again he thought of killing her and for a few moments he struggled to surppress those feelings until his mind was clear of all but her breathing... which disturbed him to no end. It was obvious he wasn't willing to speak further, and he cared little for what the slut wanted to say anyways so instead he calmed his mind and let the subtle sounds outside the thick room and those made by the woman to be only fleeting sensations. When Lox was home, it was advently forbidden to disturb him when he meditated for any reason other than one direly important, and many times in the early dawn hours before battle he chose to meditate in the middle of camp where many of his men joined him in silent contemplation of the battle to come. It made him and his men resolute, and it was the buffer for his sometimes overwhelming rage and anger but he wouldn't have chosen to meditate here if his fatigue and rage wasn't clouding his mind so much. It would only require a little more for him to throw himself into deaths arms and drag a few to hell with him as his anger had no release and his injuries slowly built, so with the same determination he used in his studies of war so to did he wipe away everything and truly rest for a few moments without going into the dangerous realm of sleep where his enemies might wish to catch him and do him harm. And yet his mind was constantly brushed by the delicate breathing of this woman and the soft sounds of her clothes rustling as she moved...