Seventy-six nights after meeting the General
The movement of the ship stopped very suddenly the morning after prince Victor visited the brig.
My body kept moving throughout the day. My mind was still swaying violently back and forth when I found myself standing in the middle of an imperial village with prince Victor at my side, and to my right, someone unexpected.
It was absurd, the turn my story took. I was starving and disoriented.
Even in that sorry state, I was surprised at how the day unfolded.
It started when prince Victor came into the brig with his knife drawn.
He was at one point so close to me that I fully expected to be violated.
Instead, the ropes that bound me were cut.
No words were shared between us. He left me there with the door open.
I watched the door opening with trepidation.
There was no need for it. All that greeted me when I left the chamber was a room with a staircase leading to daylight. The brightness hit my eyes so suddenly I only noticed the linen clothes and the tub of saltwater after my eyes adjusted to the onslaught.
I did not think all of it to be for me at first. But the longer I stood there, the more alluring it became. A wash, fresh clothes. The saltwater was familiar to me. The scent of it was taking me back home.
In the blink of an eye, I undressed and washed myself.
I would not give the prince any time to come and find me while naked and vulnerable.
The water did not feel like icicles hitting my body.
Clothing myself was not torturous despite me being drenched.
The air was hot and humid. The feeling of being warm and wet was nostalgic as well as unsettling. We were nowhere near the Oaklands.
I braced myself. Every step on the staircase took me forever.
The wood creaked as I wobbled. My fear was taken over by exhaustion.
My eyes could finally see what was happening above deck.
The ship was tiny. There was only the brig, a deck large enough for two people to sit on, and the captain’s cabin.
It was also in a horrid condition. The rotting wood extended even to the upper level, and the rope that held the sail was so frayed it was barely holding on by a thread.
Prince Victor stood in the doorway to the cabin.
Hair wavy and dry. Suspenders holding up dark damask trousers.
A golden chain revealing the royal emblem hung proudly on his chest. A marked grey carrier pigeon on his shoulder.
He was playing pretend. Dressed up like royalty, with no more presence than a peasant.
Axel was true royalty. He earned his position.
Earned the respect he received. Unlike my alpha, this man was a farce.
We made our way from the boat to the shore. Wooden cottages were scattered across grass-covered hills. We were certainly somewhere along the western imperial shore. The landscape as well as the architecture reminded me of my journey to the Oaklands.
Victor did not bind me again. He did not hurt me or belittle me.
He did not acknowledge me at all. My legs were as good as gone.
My hipbones popped as I walked. Tingling limbs and bare feet on a stony shore.
A strange confidence marked Victor’s strides.
I limped forward to keep up with him. Cobblestones made way for grassland.
There, a single man stood tall. An open tunic. Leather boots. An imposing stature. Black hair cut short. Dark eyes, upturned but rounded. Like a doe. A youthful face on a mature body. As we got closer his scent tickled my nose.
A werewolf. An alpha. Out and about on imperial grounds. Smiling down at the crown prince. At me.
“Jareth!” The prince called him by his name. A northern name.
The two shook hands. The prince’s hand rested on the alpha’s shoulder for a moment. He squeezed it. It was an odd gesture- too hard to seem friendly, yet too intimate to be a threat.
“I am glad for your safe return, your highness,” Jareth said.
“Don’t call me by title,” the prince said. I observed them both. The prince was frowning ever so slightly. The corners of the alpha’s mouth were permanently turned up. Observation did not make me any wiser as to how the two felt about each other.
“Who is this?” Jareth looked me up and down.
It brought me back into my own body. It was not a good place to be.
The grass prickled my feet. The bruising around my ankles was hidden by my pantlegs, but my wrists were on full display.
I felt weak and hungry, but not enough time had passed for my body to look significantly smaller.
The bags under my eyes were for others to see, and the heaviness in my limbs was my own to feel.
My hair was glamoured to appear yellow. My eyes, a common blue. A reflexive reaction when setting foot in imperial territory. But this man was a werewolf. He would scent I was some type of magical being, even if my nature was disguised.
“This is our most valuable weapon against the rebels,” the prince said.
Bile rose up into my throat. Jareth frowned at me.
What a dangerous weapon I must have seemed.
A pitiful little man, weak and pale, unbound yet docile.
Prince Victor put a hand on the small of my back.
I took a step forward to avoid his touch. “This is the General’s omega.”
Jareth’s eyes were wide. His young face suddenly resembling a little doe.
His mouth opened then closed again. His jaw clenched.
His body went rigid. His scent became threatening, then soft again.
Then he let go. Relaxed once more. A neutral expression.
Pleasant, even. The scent of warm cedar creating a bubble of calm around me.
“Did you defeat him?” the werewolf asked prince Victor. His voice was soft. A moment of silence followed.
“Not yet.”
“My alpha burned half your army to the ground,” I said. Prince Victor grabbed my collar from behind. I coughed again. My chest muscles burned. My balance was lost. My knees hit the grass. I was spent.
“Your alpha was as good as dead, druid,” Victor said. The coughing subsided. I took a deep breath.
“Yet he is alive, because of me,” I said. Another slap to my cheek. This much I could take. I tried to get back up. I could not get my feet on the ground from my kneeling position.
“We should get him fed, if you want to keep him alive,” Jareth said.
I turned my attention towards the werewolf.
He reached out to me. Two arms grabbed my waist. I was hoisted up and planted on the grass on my own two feet.
He steadied me until I was no longer shaking.
He was close to me then. There was something familiar about the warmth behind his eyes.
Something oddly comforting in his scent.
“Why are you with the empire?” I asked. Jareth did not respond.
“Your alpha did not tell you about Jareth?” Victor asked.
His smirk was mocking. It was an expression I had not seen when he was alone with me.
“Jareth’s my little bastard brother,” he said.
I coughed once more. “You didn’t know?” Victor asked.
He slapped Jareth on the back. “See, that traitor has no affection left for you at all. Didn’t even tell his omega about you,” he said to Jareth.
The alpha did not move a muscle. His face remained kind and soft.
If prince Victor was getting to him, he was not showing it.
“Let’s take the omega home,” Jareth said.
“Right, right. Father wants him to arrive unharmed.”