A Shackled Beast

[crimsonflower]

[The idea of slaves made her stomach turn. Bile forming and threatening to expel from her throat. First she's expected to work with these disgusting people, the ones who tempered a young girl into their own crafted weapon against the church.

By her Uncle Arundel's insistence she accompanies some Agarthans to a Black Market auction. There they are looking for some fodder for their battlefield. Slaves to convert and meat-shields to command. However Edelgard has no interest. She barely even looks at anyone there. That is until one man catches her attention.

It is not the mess of blond hair, the large frame, or the way he grunts when his handler prods him that draws her. No, it's his eye. That deep blue that she could lose herself in. The color of the sky after the clouds have cleared from a storm, or the color of the ocean when the waves are soft and calm. A deep blue that reminds her of her childhood.

She steps forward as his handlers yank at his shackles.]

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[boarseye]

[It's an unpleasant place to be, weighed down by shackles that have been reinforced with magic, held in place by spells as vultures circle around him, fingers grazing like he's an item to be experienced before purchased. It infuriates him, just as much as his circumstances confuse him.

He doesn't remember being brought here. He doesn't remember the loss of his eye. He doesn't even remember his name. Whatever personal belongings he had to trigger any memories had long been stripped from him. All it's left is scars and rage that he has no idea where to aim it. Though, at the moment, the handler prodding him is a good outlet. And he growls at the man, one good eye jerking in his direction with a sneer, with a promise of a bloody end when he's free- but it all dries on his tongue when he spots the pale haired woman moving towards him.

There's something, a pounding in his head, a twisting sensation in his chest, a rise in his pulse at the sight of her. There's no memory behind it, no justification, just a feeling that she's important. In what matter, he doesn't know, but as he's knocked to his knees, he doesn't even snarl, attention caught like a doomed pirate to a siren.

He says nothing as she approaches though, lost in a quiet curiosity.]

[crimsonflower]

[She is shocked that he does not come after her in bloody anger. That his rage is quieted by her presence rather than the flames having been stoked. No one should be like this. Especially not the poor prince who had already suffered so deeply. It is a good thing Arundel is not with her, or he'd pay to have the nuisance silenced once and for all.

Secretly Edelgard's heart is too soft for that.]

I will take him.

["Are you sure?" questions the attendant who is with her. The woman in the strange mage get up warns against getting potential slave soldiers that are too powerful. They have a chance of turning and killing their masters.

Edelgard waves the woman away. It displays as arrogance, just as she expected, but inside there is nothing that could keep her from pulling Dimitri from this awful hell. In fact she will probably have Hubert make arrangements to kill the people running this trafficking ring after this is over.

The men prodding and binding Dimitri nod, and say they will have him prepared to leave as soon as he's been paid for.

Reaching out Edelgard brushes that mess of hair away from Dimitri's good eye. However before they say anything the men are yanking the once good prince away from the auction hall to return him to the back.]

[boarseye]

[His eye widens at the words, unable to properly process the emotions that run through him. Maybe he's grateful that he's leaving this place, but there's something else underneath it, a stirring of emotions that makes him dizzy. And he's busy trying to stifle them when that hand brushes against him, and his whole body stills. He's been touched more than he cares to remember, but nothing has felt as gentle as the simple gesture of pulling hair from his eye. It makes his heart ache-why is it impossible for him to remember equally kind gestures? How long has it been since anyone has shown a flicker of kindness towards him? And considering how bloody his hands were when these men took him, did he even deserve it?

He's only got time to look up at her in surprise in return before too many arms are yanking at chains and dragging him back to his feet to haul him away.

They clean him, briefly, an effort that consists of stripping him and dumping buckets of water on him. It doesn't do much but get the day's dirt off of him. He imagines it should probably make him tremble as cold as it is, but there's almost something familiar in that particular sensation, a tolerance to it that's almost comfortable.

He's redressed, nothing here particularly fits his frame, but as an underground ring, they don't exactly worry about tailors. But it covers most of him, and that's as much as they're willing to do as he's tugged back out toward the side door where masters are supposed to pick up their slaves.

A part of him wants to fight this, but another part is curious to trace the breadcrumbs of familiarity the woman stirs in him. So he behaves as he's pulled towards the entrance, to where the oddly dressed mage and shorter woman wait.]

[crimsonflower]

[The auction is concluded. The mysterious mage has made arrangements for her "purchases" to be sent elsewhere for training and assimilation. There is a carriage in the nearby distance. It is night time, and the moon shines gently on Edelgard's hair almost making her seem ethereal.

"He's your responsibility, you know." Edelgard acknowledges this, and tells the woman to get it over with. The mage casts a sleeping spell on Dimitri so he does not cause trouble on the way to the kingdom.

When he returns to consciousness he will be in one of the guest bedrooms of the palace at Enbarr. The air is warm - probably too warm for his liking, but he's dressed light at least. And there is a collar around his neck. Once could mistake it for a livery collar if not for the fact it sits on his throat like a choker. There is magic imbued it in. Meant to keep him from activating his crest, or to cripple him should a certain word be spoken.

If he takes a look around the room he'll find it furnished, but spartan. And in a chair by the foot of his bed is Edelgard. Her long white hair is braided to the side, and her eyes are fixated on a book in her lap.]

[boarseye]

[His eyes snap open the moment consciousness return to him, and as always when he wakes like this there's a momentarily moment of confusion where half of his vision is met by darkness. It fades quickly enough, more curious things to focus on. He doesn't remember falling asleep, and he certainly doesn't remember winding up in a bed, and yet here he is.

He doesn't immediately sit up, gaze lost in the red color scheme of the room. There's something about the color that stirs a rage in his chest, stirs something unpleasant in his gut, and it puts him on edge without any explanation.

So he sits up almost defensively, gaze coming to the only possible threat in the room. And while everything about her seems unassuming-gentle almost, with the skilled braid and book in hand- he can't help but curl his lip up at her.]

Where am I? [And just the briefest of pauses because he feels like he should know the answer to the next question.] And who are you?

1/2

[crimsonflower]

[Slowly her gaze pans upward to look at him. "Who are you"? What kind of absurd question is that? Is she not the very bane of his existence? The shoulder upon which he places every blame? Is she not the monster in red he wishes to tear limb from limb?

There is a bit of shock in her expression while for a good moment she sits there speechless.]

[crimsonflower]

[It is not long before she clears her throat and closes her book.]

I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, Emperor of the Adrestian Empire. You are in one of the guest bedrooms of the palace at Enbarr.