The Soldiers of the King [Complete]

[Alia]

Alia gathered up the dirty wooden plates from an empty table. She was in a large tent that had been designated the Mess, where the King's soldiers who could pay were allowed to eat, drink, and relax when off duty. She carried out duties here occasionally, anything from serving the soldiers to cooking for them. Tonight she had been assigned to clean up after them. It wasn't the menial nature of the task that bothered Alia so much, so much as the time of day she had to work. Starting in the late afternoon, she worked into the night, and by then the only soldiers around were horribly drunk. Alia had never partaken of alcohol before, but after seeing what sort of beasts it made of men she did not want to think about what it would make women into. She shook her head, driving the thoughts away. Her time was almost up... best finish up as quickly as she could.

Alia gathered up the last of the wooden plates and began walking towards the kitchens. There was only one full table of soldiers left, a loud group of three who had been drinking most of the night. As she approached them, one of them pointed and they hushed, staring at her as they grinned and whispered. Alia cast her eyes down, trying to ignore them. Most of these poor men had not seen their women in months or even years, and Alia knew that many men found her attractive despite her attempts to hide herself. She understood why they stared, even if it made her uncomfortable.

Alia passed the drunken soldiers quickly, trying to ignore their eyes on her. She sensed a sudden movement, and jumped with a yelp as she felt a sharp, stinging slap on her behind. The soldiers burst into laughter as the wooden plates clattered to the ground. Alia's blushed red, and she knelt down quickly to gather the plates, her backside still stinging from the force of the blow. "Now that's a fine wench if I've ever seen one." One of the drunkards observed, his voice every bit as rough and crude as his words. "Aye. Good shape on that one." Agreed the man who had slapped her, who grinned unpleasantly. Alia felt tears in her eyes and she hurriedly tried to stand, but her skirt caught on something. "Oh!" she gasped in surprise as she lost her balance and fell to the side, landing on her hip and dropping the plates again. The soldiers burst into another round of laughter at her plight, and Alia felt her cheeks burning with humiliation. She assumed her skirt had simply snagged on one chairs or benches, but as she looked around she saw that one of the soldiers was standing on its hem. He was a large man, and from her lowly position he seemed twice her size. Her eyes flitted from his dark bearded face to the dagger at his belt. "Please master, I must return to the kitchens." she said quietly, pulling at her skirt weakly.

"What do you think, should I let this desert rat go?" The large soldier asked his comrades. He snatched Alia's headscarf, yanking it off her head. Alia's long brown hair tumbled down, bare. She immediately gathered her hair together, wringing it nervously in her hands.  "Give it back!" She cried, glaring up at the man, angry tears in her eyes. Even though she had lived in the empire for years now, she still was uncomfortable showing her hair in public, and certainly not to men such as these. "I'm property of the general, as is everything I'm wearing. If don't give it back you'll be a thief!" The soldier took a long drink from his tankard and then wiped his mouth and beard with her scarf. "Funny, the last girl we had fun with said something similar. I'm still waiting to be clapped in irons." He slurred. He eyed her again, and Alia could do nothing but glare back up at him with wet eyes. She was powerless. She would be punished if she hit a freeman, and even if she did try to fight he could easily overpower her by himself, not even counting his companions. He could terrorize her as much as he wanted with no consequences, and he knew it. Alia had experienced much injustice in her life, but it tasted bitter just the same.

"How do you feel about making some coin, sand wench? Give us some entertainment, and we'll pay you ten silvers. You might even be able to buy your freedom with that!" The soldiers guffawed and Alia cringed, eyes downcast as icy claws of fear gripped her insides. They wanted that from her? She shook her head violently, recoiling as far away as she could with her skirt trapped under his boot. "No! Please master, let me go!" she pleaded, loudly enough for the whole Mess to hear.

[shadowclaw]

It was late in the night, the moon high in the smoke filled sky above the many encampments of the imperial army. Normally Hadvir would have been asleep long ago, but he couldn't sleep tonight. With the Varden approaching, he grew more and more nervous, he could only imagine the carnage of the battle. Hadvir was at this point a veteran of multiple battles already, but none would be as big as this final one. With the Empire's army poised and ready behind the tall defenses of Urubaen, the Varden would throw everything they had at them. In the back of his mind, Hadvir feared and welcomed a Varden victory at the same time. If he had the choice, he would join the Varden, but now was too late for him, he had already sworn the oath in the ancient language. Even if he wanted to he could not defect to the Varden, and if the Varden won like he wanted them to, it would most likely mean death for him. 

Sighing as he walked through the camp, dodging muddy puddles that had formed from the light drizzle that had fallen throughout the day, he made his way towards the mess. If anything would put his mind at ease now, it would be food. He would find a way to maybe break the oath, or perhaps the Empire would win, and he could go back to his family unscathed but still under a tyrannical rule, all hope of overthrowing it in his life time crushed. Realizing he was beginning to dwell on the thoughts again, he cast them away quickly, there were Empire sorcerers everywhere and it had been said that they could read your thoughts like an open book, not that Hadvir could read a book anyway.

Soon he arrived at the Mess, only a few others still sitting among the tables. One look at them and he could tell they were drunk, so he paid no mind to them, and they paid no mind to him. He was only here to get something to eat before going back to sleep, he was still in his normal clothes, a simple tunic and pants. The only thing he kept from his battle get-up was his short-sword, which he would not go anywhere in this camp without, especially late at night. Minding his own business, he walked over to the serving table, giving a few coins to the man working the table this late at night, who seemed quite surprised anyone had come, he had been busy dozing off it seemed. Taking a small loaf of bread he turned around, heading towards the tables when he noticed something.

The men had been laughing before, but he had assumed it was some drunken jokes they were exchanging but now he realized one of the men, a tall man, taller than him, but not built as fully as Hadvir standing over a woman. The next moment he ripped off the scarf covering her hair, the woman obviously distressed demanded she get it back. Hadvir knew all too well they wouldn't give it back, they were up to no good. Silently, almost as if he was just looking for a table to sit at he approached the man from behind just as he spoke.

"How do you feel about making some coin, sand wench? Give us some entertainment, and we'll pay you ten silvers. You might even be able to buy your freedom with that!" Hadvir was almost upon him now, the unnamed woman still pleading with the man.

"The only entertainment that will be happening in this mess if you don't let the woman go is you getting your drunken ass beat around this mess, and I will do it for free." Hadvir mustered all the venom he could into those words, his eyes burning into the man the moment he turned around. Hadvir knew he was outnumbered if his friends decided to help him, but he also knew they were all well past drunk, he figured half of them couldn't even stand from the look of them. If Hadvir's imposing stature, the short-sword at his side, and his venomous words were not enough to scare them off, he figured he could take them anyway.

[Alia]

"The only entertainment that will be happening in this mess if you don't let the woman go is you getting your drunken ass beat around this mess, and I will do it for free." The drunkard turned to face the newcomer, and lifted his food off Alia's skirt. Alia scurried away, grabbing the plates with shaking hands before fleeing to the kitchen area. She quickly dropped off the plates, before rushing back, peeking around the door to watch the exchange.

The tall man's eyes went from Hadvir's stony stare to the short-sword at the man's side. For a moment he seemed ready to fight, but then he stepped back. He let out a deep laugh, "No skin off my nose... there are plenty of girls who will be happy to take my coin." He looked down at where Alia had been, and scowled, "Slippery little minx. We're out of here." He said to his friends, before tossing the scarf to Hadvir.

Alia watched the exchange, and waited until the group was gone. She wiped the tears from her face, before approaching the armed man. She curtsied deeply, a movement that she usually saved for nobles and officers. "Thank you, Master. If you had not come I fear what might have happened." Alia folded her hands formally in front of her, eyes down at the man's boots as she waited to be acknowledged. She felt awkward having her hair free and uncovered, but she ignored the discomfort. She needed to try to look respectful, not fragile.

[shadowclaw]

Catching her scarf, Hadvir said no more as he let his gaze bore into the man as he turned to leave. He did not let his guard now until they all left the Mess before he let himself relax, his shoulders slumping. He felt slightly sore for a moment afterwards, his muscles had been tensed the whole confrontation. Hadvir was grateful however, the front he put up was enough to scare them away, he did not care to think what would have happened if he had to fight all those men outnumbered. He would probably be able to take a few of them down before he would be overwhelmed now that he thought of the odds more closely. He did not know why he was so eager to throw himself into the confrontation to help the woman, only that he was happy he did not get beaten for it. Pulling his sword and actually killing any of them was out of the question, he would be killed as a murderer.

Sighing deeply, he turned to head towards where the owner of the scarf had fled, but he was surprised to see she was already there, his deep brown eyes did not hold the same stony expression they did a moment ago. Replying to her words he simply said lightly, handing her her scarf "I fear for what would have happened to me if those lads didn't scamper off as easily as they did."

Noticing her curtsy, her eyes looking at his boots, his brow furrowed. Being the commoner that he was Hadvir was very unaccustomed to this. He had seen slaves before, but he had never been comfortable about the idea of keeping another person as an object, something to be bought or sold. "You do not have to curtsy in such a way ta me, I am but a mere soldier doing a good deed." He would wait before she rose and looked him in the eye before introducing himself, "Tha names' Hadvir."

[Alia]

Alia took the scarf gratefully, smiling at the man. Her smile turned into frown of disappointment as she saw that the scarf was soiled from the drunkard's treatment of it. It smelled of alcohol, she would have to clean it before she used it again. Instead of donning the scarf, she stowed it on her person. She made a mental note to braid her hair when she had the opportunity, to keep it from flying free.

"You do not have to curtsy in such a way ta me, I am but a mere soldier doing a good deed." The soldier said. Alia immediately arose to her full height, somewhat confused at the man's refusal of her gesture. She had meant it as a sign of respect. "Of course, Master." She said, glancing up at him. She noted that his eyes seemed soft and kind.

"Tha names' Hadvir." The man said. Alia resisted the urge to curtsy again and simply introduced herself with a polite nod. "I am Alia, slave to General Lord Artax. If there is anything you require of me, I am at your service." Alia stepped slightly closer, glancing up at him again nervously and fiddling with the long brown hair that tumbled over her right shoulder. "If I may ask, Master Hadvir, why did you help me? I know few men who would risk themselves for the sake of a slave."

[shadowclaw]

Hadvir felt uncomfortable still even after she rose, perhaps it was her calling him master. It seemed the ways of service were as much entangled into her as the deep roots of an old oak were into the land. He decided to not say anything about it, it probably just felt natural to her to call others master, or mistress. Smiling lightly he sat down, offering her a seat near him if she would sit. He noted that even sitting he was nearly as tall as her, she was even shorter than him, even though he thought of himself on the shorter side for a man.

When she mentioned her master, he grunted in recognition, nodding slightly as he ate the piece of bread he had gotten earlier. He had heard of the name of the man, but did not know much of him except that he gave out orders to him and others. At her last question he would face her somewhat, swallowing the last bite of his bread before answering, "I did it because it was the right thing to do. I do not know how I could live with myself if I had let it happen if I could do something. Perhaps I have grown more thoughtful of others once I have had a family of my own, a wife and children. I would not let anything bad ever happen to them, why must I treat other people differently because I do not know them?"

[Alia]

Alia perched at the spot Hadvir indicated. As he spoke, she took the opportunity to braid her hair, listening closely as her hands worked. The man seemed course, but not from a life of soldiering. From a life next to the earth... a life of hard toil and slim rewards. She noticed the calloused hands. He was a worker of some sort, certainly. She nodded as Hadvir finished his explanation, and smiled as he spoke of his family. "Thank you again, Master Hadvir. Do you wish that I address you as such? They ah... hit me if I don't say the right title. I take it you won't do that if you wish me to address you more personally?"

Alia finished her braid and folded her hands in her lap. She smiled a little, the memories coming back clearly. "I've served families before, and those were happy days. I hope one day to have children of my own... of course I have to find a husband first. That's not easy for a woman in my position." Alia looked the older man over, interest in her eyes. "How old are your children, master? I've only ever cared for little babes."

[shadowclaw]

Hadvir was slightly angered when she mentioned that they abused her for saying the wrong title, the evil in this world truly troubled him at times. Sighing he said simply, "You can refer to me as just Hadvir." He had finished his small loaf of bread now, turning towards this servant as they struck up a conversation. He did not mind the conversation oddly, even though it was late. It was not often he actually talked to anyone nowadays, unless it was to his commanders and higher ups, or giving orders to those underneath him, which was not much. He figured Alia did not get to actually talk to others much either. This day in age woman were usually meant to be seen, not heard, more so slave women. Hadvir did not agree with this common mind set even though he was a commoner himself, he found it repulsive to act in such a way and his family had raised him to be different. He never even threatened to raise a hand against his wife in all their years of marriage. 16 14

At the mention of his children Hadvir smiled lightly, "My oldest is my boy named Delvin, he is sixteen, and my daughter named Aela is fourteen now." Hadvir prayed everyday to his gods that he could live to return to them, to survive this war. If it had not been to protect his family, he would have never joined the Empire's ranks to fight for the king, the only thing forcing him to not join the Varden was the thought of his family's safety if he was found to be a traitor to the Empire. "My children and wife are truly the brightest light in my life, if you are to find love and perhaps have children one day, I hope you get to experience the same joy that I had the day of my marriage and then the days each of my children were born."

[Alia]

Alia listened respectfully as Hadvir spoke, giving him her full attention. Hadvir was a family man. She could see it now. His features were careworn from fatherhood. “You are very fortunate, Hadvir. To see your children grow up to be young men and women is a great gift.” Alia smiled a little, “I too hope to find love in marriage. Maybe when this war is over I will be able to find a husband. I’d be a good wife… I know I would.” Alia shook her head, laughing a little at herself. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be dreaming. I should focus on the now and getting my duties done. And so should you.”


Alia stood, consciously trying to be graceful. After being treated so roughly, she wanted to project at least the illusion that she was in control of herself. As much control as a slave could have anyway. “I thank you again for your courageous actions, Hadvir. If you require anything please call on me, and I will provide as best I can.” Stopping herself from curtsying, Alia instead gave Hadvir a respectful nod. She then turned back towards the kitchens. She had a little more work to do before she could return to her quarters, but she was grateful for the man Hadvir. He had stepped up when others would have faltered. Even in these dark days it was rare to see true courage, and she would remember it forever.