Thread: The Wolf, the Forge, and Love Forbidden - Raivh & Abovetheroses

Luca's temper flared as he spoke to the smith, keeping his eyes trained on his sister, Yes, smith, it would be most helpful to have you see her out of my sight at this time. Just as Ahren was about to turn and reach a hand out toward the Lady, he witnessed her seemingly small frame take hold of the long sword and unsheathe it. He soon found the tip of the blade he'd so carefully crafted near the hollow of his throat. Slowly, he lifted his hands above his shoulders, and watched her calmly. Her words were fiery and full of contempt. The already tumultuous thoughts that paraded around his head were made increasingly more difficult to stomach as she placed blame on him. Despite this, he didn't dare speak. A woman swinging a sword around as she did was nothing to drive into further frustration. Alice! Luca boomed when his sister swung the sword, turning his own blade on him before she spun around and made a clear path to the exit. The Lady has more moral fiber than you. The caged wolf growled, the sound almost a laugh as she snapped her powerful jaws about. Ahren heard the words, but refused to turn to look back at Elise. It was shame, now, that kept his gaze fixated on the Lady Alice as she pointedly flourished the blade between her guardsmen. The Lady was doing well to show strength, but Ahren's eye caught the waver of her arms and their failing strength. No beast was she. No one moved until she'd made her exit. When she was gone, Ahren transitioned his attention from the door to the young Lord as he hurled obscenities at his sister and Elise. Elise whirled around nimbly and her great maw opened and closed in one solid snap that echoed in the hall. Luca appeared taken aback. That's when Peter's words met Ahren's ears. The smith turned to face one of the other young Lords. Watching as Peter placed a hand over Luca's shoulder, Ahren listed to the man's suggestion. While he wasn't sure it was a well thought out plan, he didn't have time to argue. His mind was already mulling over any feasible chance he had of getting Elise to safety before she met the sharp fate of any blade, old or new. Rinan! Ahren's voice snapped the boy out of the trance he was in, and he looked up at the towering man standing above him, one arm outstretched to help him to his feet. Go on home, now. With a nod, the boy did as he was told and rushed out of the great hall. Ahrend's gaze followed him until he was gone, and then he looked to the door where the woman had exited not long before. He sighed and started forward, and as the door closed, he heard Elise howl. It was a powerful sound, but one of sorrow and absolution she believed death was coming for her. In all actuality, if he was unable to come to her aid, death was what awaited her. It was his nose that led him to her. He'd only once before set foot inside the noble's keep. The breeze that met him was brisk, and he couldn't help but think the Lady would be much worse off than himself in such frigid temperature. When he found her, he kept his distance at first, solemn eyes more gray than blue at this moment. He watched as she shoved dirt around with the sword in what seemed really to be a vain attempt to dig a hole. It wasn't until she paused to wipe the sweat from her delicate brow that he began to quietly approach her. The apology that spilled from her lips confused him. None of what was happening was her fault. Milady, he said, approaching her and placing a heavy hand over the hilt of the sword as he came around her front and faced her. His expression was somber, and he gently pried the weapon from her grasp. While it is not any place of mine to speak, you've nothing to be sorry for. These things cannot be helped. His large, lumbering form towered over her, the sword hanging limply at his side, the point near the middle of his calf. He stroked his beard and felt the little emblem at the first tie between his fingers and looked to the sky. When his gaze fell to her again, he shook his head and sunk down to the ground, landing squarely in the soft dirt she'd disturbed. He kept the sword between his knees and feet and spun the blade around slowly at its hilt. The young Lord will carry out his hunt with or without this sword, you know. He spoke the truth. It didn't matter the weapon, there were always more to be found. It's like they said, there are older swords crafted by smiths long before my time that he will use. You've pried but one tooth from the mouth of the wolf. Setting the blade at his side, he stared at the hole before him, shallow though it was. And how quickly did you think you could bury this sword?