Chapter Text
The North.
A wasteland of snow and black rock in which vile men killed with no remorse, and were ruled by an even more vile man.
King John Price.
A man who knew no bounds and would conquer even the smallest of villages.
And today, the thing he conquered, the thing he took, was your kingdom, the kingdom to the East. A peaceful place, staying neutral as the others fought for territories and trades, maybe that was your downfall.
Lying out of it all made you a sitting duck to the North. An easy target that wouldn't fight back, not against their army, yours couldn’t compare - you were outnumbered. Your father, the king, surrendered before first blood could be drawn, asking for the sparing of his people and family, that they could take his kingdom, but could not harm the people.
They didn’t listen.
Your people were either slaughtered or taken as slaves. Your parents were killed, their bodies thrown into a bonfire. The men danced and yelled - chanting in a different language around the pit as you were pushed onto your knees, forced to watch bodies upon bodies be tossed into the flame. The smell of burnt hair and crackling of bones filled your senses, the smell of blood running through the cracks of the earth, the smell of rain and metal.
Tears fell down your face as everything you knew was destroyed in front of you. The pure barbarity of it all was outrageous.
A distant roar comes from up above. Your vision blurred as you looked up, a winged creature, a dragon, up high above, landed on a tower's roof tiles, slipping off, plummeting below. It let out another roar - something about it felt final, your kingdom's fate sealed to doom. The dragon's scaly white skin was covered in ruby red blood around its claws and jaw, a figure in all black riding its back.
Another figure entered your line of vision - only a blurred shadow of a man - before you were hit on the back of your head, falling limply to the ground. The burning of your people was the last thing you saw as your eyes fluttered shut.
♡♡♡
It was warm. A blanket of warmth covered your body as you slowly woke up. Your head lulled side to side as you rose. The back of your skull throbbing in pain as you slowly sat up, a thick fur falling down your body, exposing your bare upper body. Quickly exposing the fact that you were naked under the fur, clean and pure as the day you were born. Your cheeks flushed a bright pink at the thought of one of the barbarians changing and washing your body, leaving you naked.
You casutiously looked around the room, or tent? Tent. It was decorated for a king - maybe it was the king's sleeping tent - fur and hide all around it, a small fire in the middle, smoke wafting up into the cloth ceiling, escaping through open flaps above. The distant feeling of nausea greeted you as you watched the orange flame dance in its chamber.
You couldn’t bear to look at it.
You couldn’t bear to remember your people. Their screams, the pleas they begged before being killed.
With another look around the room, you saw a table and a few chairs, along with maps and books on top of the surface. Slowly, you moved your legs off the bed, your feet landing softly on the carpets that littered the floor.
A cool wind entered the tent. A man with dark curls on his head stood tall at the entrance, covered in armor, head to toe, a crimson red cape drenched at the ends in mud and blood laid off his shoulders - one of his hands gripped the handle of his sword.
You quickly raised the blanket to cover your chest, the man's brown eyes flickering between your chest and eyes.
His jaw ticked.
“The king wants to see you.”