Aelin Erevos
Queen of Nothing
Outfit | XoXo
Location | Hljóðleva Encampment, Early Morning
Tag |
Børre Drage
"In the space of an instant, I am consumed"
Buttery sunlight softened the surprisingly mild autumn day, a gaggle of Zorathi children standing around at various forms of attention within the sanded sparring ring, shifting, listening, with barely contained excitement.
"When fighting, you must always use your head, first." Aelin tapped gently at the young boy's head who stood before her, crouching down in the sand of the pit to reach eye level. Her boots were already coated in a fine film of dust, while the loose sleeves of her training tunic pooled around her athletic frame.
He was the youngest of the children that surrounded her, each waiting for their turn to practice what were barely budding combat skills. While a right of passage for every Lupo child, the Zorathi children who had been orphaned after the attack by Volsüng could not rely on these significant responsibilities and traditions being passed down from their parents, leaving it up to the Kaiha to take on the responsibility. Customs that Aelin was learning to appreciate, slowly growing to see their value. Being able to sympathize with their situation in her own unique way, Aelin made it a point to come down daily and work with them personally.
The boy couldn't have been older than five, maybe six. Young enough that he was still easily amused by Aelin's theatrics, bubbling with fits of laughter that made her smile. It was strange to think she'd been this young once, or that she'd ever been a child. Not that she'd really had the chance, always too hungry and desperate to let herself be carefree and innocent.
"And then…" she continued, trying to take on that studious tone that Bjørn had often used during their lessons, brows furrowed in mock seriousness before scooping up the young wolf in her arms. He howled in childish delight as she spun him around, once, then twice, and set him back to his feet. She tapped the boy's nose, then laid a hand over her own heart. "Then, my little maðuri*, you fight with all your heart and soul."
The child beamed up at her, then looked beyond and over her shoulder, his face lighting up. "Who is that??" He cried excitedly, "When I grow up, I want to be like him!" He bounced eagerly from foot to foot, making Aelin turn to follow his line of sight.
She knew who it was without ever turning around, his scent crushing down on every sense in her body, the smell that reminded her of the remnants of an electrical storm; keenly aware of every movement and whoosh of breath, before he even spoke.
"Børre?" She questioned, feeling every inch of her body go stiff.
There he stood, golden hair unbound, crowned by morning sunlight, tall and imposing as ever, every bit the Drage Alpha he was born to be. For a fleeting, weak moment, she allowed herself to admire the powerful muscles outlined by the sun's shadows, his blue eyes lifting to meet hers as she stood from where she crouched, dusting herself off. "I'm surprised they let you leave Bellassa." She bit out, the sound of her words sharper than she'd intended, not realizing until that moment just how much his absence over the last few months grieved her. Gently she cleared her throat and shifted on her feet, averting her attention back to their audience, attempting to remain civil. "I was about to give the children a demonstration, but now that you're here, why don't you do the honors?"
A chattering, but hushed gasp spread through the grouping of children who looked on at the mighty Alpha with hopefully eyes, huddling together like the little pack of wolves they were. "Well, what do you say? Anders couldn't make it today… and I wouldn't mind some help from someone with a wider repertoire of skills at their disposal…" then added, "if you can manage to make the time for it."
*Warrior
