The cold crisp air of the night did little to snuff her burning rage. She was a bomb primed and ready to explode at the next little disturbance. When she reached her hut, the fire blazed to life with a flick of her wrist and the shadows it created danced about the wooden walls. She tore off everything that reminded her of the night, throwing it on the floor in a heap, only keeping her shift on. She washed her face and upbound her chocolate and honey hair. Her head was swimming in mead and she succumbed to its buzz throwing herself on the bed. The room slowly shifted around as she lay still. It was the perfect temporary high, thankful that the last tankard didn't make her a sloppy mess or cause her to wake up with a nasty hangover. She pushed the events of the night out of her head hoping the current of the mead would take her mind elsewhere.

As she lay there, listening to the distant sounds of the celebration, the alcohol helped her mind blur her memories of the festival into something worth daydreaming of. For once, she longed to relinquish control, to unleash her emotions on something, anything. A distraction was needed and yet, her thoughts remained on the celebration. She saw the bodies of the Avvar dressed in their livery dancing. They swayed as they pressed up against one another to the rhythm of the drums. She materialized amongst them dancing by herself, but the bodies began to close around her. Their heat, sweat and then touch overtook her senses as though she was there. It could've been that she could still hear the booms of the drums from her hut or the luxurious feel of the fur covers beneath her, but it was enough to feel the heat pool between her legs again.

Lost in the trance, she slipped below the covers and pushed aside the bulky leather armor she had thrown there earlier in the day, wasting no time. She let her hand freely wander down in gentle touches, arching her head back slightly. She imagined there was a man who asked her to dance, saying all those lewd things Axlan had whispered, though his shape shifted before her. She didn't care who he was only that he wanted her. He lusted after her as she felt his hands grab her breasts then meandered lower. A gentle gasp left her lips when he found her wet and wanting. As she imagined his fingers working without and within her, she began to grind on his hand to the beat of the drums. She was in such a fog she didn't hear herself moaning aloud or the crunch of footsteps approaching the hut.

Without warning, Cullen burst through the door looking about as angry as she'd ever seen him. "Where is he!?"

"Hakkon's balls! Where's who!?" She sat up calling forth her sense and reason. He stomped over to the bed looking around in the darkness. Upon seeing the sizable lump under the covers, he threw them off of her revealing it to only be the stiff leather armor Cassandra had lent her for the challenge. She tugged at the bottom of her shift trying to cover her nakedness as she pulled her legs up close to her chest. Finding nothing, rather no one, it began to dawn on him that he had made a terrible mistake. Her surprise at the sudden intrusion into her solitude now turned to simmering anger.

"I thought...," his voice, still angry, trailed off as he cleared his throat a few times.

"No, you didn't think," she allowed her frustration to get the better of her watching him sort out in his mind what she had actually been doing. She laughed venomously, "You thought you'd come here to find Axlan between my legs, what, as revenge? Well, he did offer rather explicitly, but I turned him down." His scowl was back. Her rage stoked the forge in her chest and its glow began to light the interior of the small hut. "Tell me, does claiming me prevent my hand from pleasuring me as well?" She grabbed the fur covers back from the floor, bending over the side of the bed. She wrapped them around her and stood about an arm's length from him. "Well? Have you not "claimed" me in the eyes of the Hold? Wasn't that what part of the ritual tonight was about, to announce it?"

"Yes."

"Then you lied to me when you said you'd never do that! You've no right --"

"I have every right!" He snarled at her, unafraid of the growing fire in her eyes. "I do this for you and the Hold. It's for your own protection. Do you think Axlan is here by coincidence?"

"Of course, he's not! What am I, a simpleton? No, but I am some trophy for you and Axlan to fight over. What happens when you're stuck with me and there's no game to be won?"

"Then it's lucky for you Avvar marriages are temporary."

She turned her back to him for a moment as her temper reached a new height. Venom seeped into her every word. "Oh yes, it's temporary, until you put a child in me! Are you planning on raping me as well?"

He was visibly taken aback, "I would never do that! How could you think me capable of it?"

"You said the same about forcing me to marry you, but look how that's changed. Since we met, you've done nothing but seek to possess me for your own means, and I was stupid enough to believe you wouldn't stoop to treating me as the others have, that you were the one decent Thane in the entirety of the Basin. But I see now you're no better than any of them."

"You flatter yourself if you think you are such a prize that I would want to marry you. To bring you into my house, under my roof and be forced to act as if we can tolerate each other for the good of our people. What makes you even believe you deserve to take my name? You have no idea what my family has endured and sacrificed to keep this Hold intact! The acts of such selflessness would be lost on you, for all you think of is your own needs and desires." If possible, his voice grew harsher, "You do not possess a single desirable trait to make an ideal Lady of the Hold, all you have to recommend you is the prophecy. If it weren't for that, you still be some Templar's pet!"

She slapped him hard, "Get out!" Inches from his face, she poured all the animosity she harbored for him into her glare. If that alluded his thick head then the distinct crackle of magic was there to erase any doubt. He stood there unfazed by her strike.

"In some Holds, striking a Thane is punishable by death." His tone was one of warning, especially seeing the fight rising in her eyes again, "Among the Avvar, men fight women as equals. Be warned, do it again and I will fight until you yield to me."

She scoffed with absolute defiance, "Good to know." After staring at him for a few seconds, she threw a punch, but he caught it and her shoulders. Kicking her feet out from under her, she landed hard on the furs now covering the floor. She felt as if she was swimming in them trying to get away from him as she flipped over onto her stomach. He hovered on the ground over her, and she blindly threw an elbow back making solid contact with his throat. He made a bit of a choking sound, but it had only paused the melee for a moment. The Thane grabbed her by the ankles pulling her knees out from under her each time she tried to stand. Lack of tactical sense, just made her continuously crawl for her spirit blade resting on the shelf across the room, even if she had no idea what she was going to do with it. When he pulled her knees out from under her again, she heel-kicked him to the chest, this time knocking him back. She clawed forward as quickly as she could, but just as she reached up touching the hilt with the tip of her finger, he yanked her back hard dragging her across the room, placing his body weight atop her.

"Are you even trying? This is just pathetic." He was heavy and she felt like a snake stuck beneath a rock trying to wriggle its way out. As hard she tried to push him off with her knees and ass, he hardly moved. "My wife needs to be strong and respectable. Perhaps I chose wrongly."

She growled at his words, "Be thankful to the gods that I don't use my magic on you, goat-fucker!"

"I thought you were raised to be a Lady? Do all Lowlander women's mouths spew such filth?"

"I don't spew profanities, I enunciate them clearly like a fucking lady!" A hand on her shoulder suddenly flipped her around and she found herself looking into the face of her long-time enemy. He had turned her so fast she was almost dizzy from it, "If you don't remove yourself from me, I'll…"

"Then yield, Phoenix. You started this fight, but I was always going to win it. I suppose you better get used to it." His eyes narrowed seeing his victory in sight. He lowered his face to hers watching her lips for the words. "Say it." She arched grunting in vain still trying to find an opening to escape. He grabbed her slim wrists pinning them on either side of her head against the thick furs.

"To you?" She panted, raising her head up as in challenge, "Never." The fire roared out at them from the hearth and he dodged it by rolling off of her. She moved fast unsheathing one of the blades from his hip while mounting him. The blade she pressed to his throat drew the faintest bit of blood.

"You cheated. You used magic." His brow drew down, but his voice sounded mostly of disappointment as if she ruined his fun.

"I didn't use it on you now, did I? In fact," before she went on, she noticed his eyes darting over to her left oddly, "if I did you'd be licking your burns back to Dorian already. Yield."

"I don't think so," he said smugly.

"I have a blade to your throat?" She was slightly confused as to how he believed she had not beaten him.

"Yes, but you're on fire." Following his eyes to her side, she saw she was indeed on fire. The linen of her shift was beginning to blacken and fray from her fiery diversion. She raised a hand and quelled it easily enough with her magic, but at the momentary distraction, Evelyn found herself knocked backward against the door and then hulled up face-first against it as if she weighed nothing. He pressed her so firmly to it, that all she could do with her arms was brace herself on the rough wood, although one arm was stuck still holding the dagger. She tried to move it out but was wedged too tightly to her navel, so she dropped it, not trying to accidentally wound herself.

With his mouth to her ear, he asked again for her to yield. His breath sent a hot tingle down her body. They had been close to each other before, but not when their emotions were so high. Stubbornly, she gritted out a 'no' having not changed her answer, and in response, he bit her at the base of her neck and shoulder. She gasped at the feel of his teeth as they dragged down the curve of her shoulder. The thin strap of her shift slid down with his gruff guidance as she pushed back into him to free an arm. The muscles in her core tightened at the physicality, and she began to feel breathless at his touch, having thoroughly restrained her. He growled and bit higher up on her neck as she swore at him, though it was not to make him stop. A shiver ran down her spine, having never felt a man's mouth be so rough, and yet so sensual at once.

Sliding her stuck hand from between her and the door, she grabbed for the sword at his hip. He was too preoccupied - or just didn't see her as a threat any longer - to fight off her tugging at his belt for another weapon. When her fingers grasped the worn leather grip of his longsword, the awkward position of her hand inverted the blade as she tried to unsheathe it. Their hearts were pounding and the exercise was enough they were beginning to stick to each other. Finally, it began to come away from the scabbard as her wrist throbbed. One last hard pull freed it along with something else unexpectedly.

Against the back of her heels, she felt the entirety of his heavy furs hit her. Unknowingly, she had sawed through the belt trying to get the sword and ended up also relieving him of his fur coverings. He stepped back from her and bent to retrieve his garment, but having stumbled back not giving up the fight, she purposely stood on them unmoving. She couldn't help but smile and laugh watching him try despite all his strength to tug it free while keeping a grip on his loosened pants. Raising her other foot to his shoulder, she kicked him down taking in his physique. He fell back on his elbows and she leveled his own sword at him. She had always thought his musculature was divine, but now without paint or anything else to obscure her view, his form matched his age. By his build she knew in his youth he was probably tall, lean and trim, but age and battle made those lithe muscles heavy and rugged. His gut was thick with muscle rather than tight, which had its appeal paired with the trail of darkening hair from his chest to his groin. Scars old and new in various shapes and sizes were scored into his skin, and it made her feel slightly more comfortable about her own, knowing most men preferred women with unmarked skin

Her eyes trailed down to find him to be hard and erect despite him trying to hide it. Her breath hitched, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't surprised by his arousal despite becoming aware again of her own. "You want to fuck me, barbarian?" Standing slowly against the point of his sword, he straightened allowing the waistline of his pants to droop dangerously low. Her heart was beating out of her chest as he cautiously stepped forward in her fitted cream-colored shift. It seemed he wasn't sure of his answer to the question buying himself time. Her hands remained down at her side, not urging him on, nor helping him decide even if she found herself shockingly leaning one way. Half-naked herself, she was past the point of caring after what transpired tonight. Drink, brawling and her carnal desire added to the mix of emotions making her positively volatile - as was he evidently.

His face calmed with those same dark calculating eyes, shrugging in answer to her question, searching about her figure brazenly. "We'll see. Take this off." Her lips parted in awe, and she scoffed as if he'd be disappointed by what she'd reveal. Unsure what constantly drove her to compete with him and prove him wrong, she grabbed and gathered the hem of her shift without a second thought. With care, she peeled it up and over her head exposing the rest of her body.

Despite the reputation of mages being either skinny or chubby, she took care of herself, never overindulging in food like typical nobility and her training kept her figure toned and appealing. She had also lost a bit of weight adjusting to the Avvar diet of preserved foods this winter, yet retained her muscle mass. By no means was she perfect, for she had always wished she had slightly larger breasts. However, they suited her athletic physique, not taking away from her pinched waistline and shapely hips and legs. Her skin was littered with freckles and moles, scars marred her silky canvas and numerous places touched by the sun gave her an uneven tone. She learned long ago to accept these imperfections, but suddenly standing there as his eyes turned hungry under his examination she blushed. He hummed as he thought, still looking over her, and the longer he did, the more she found his stoic composure irritating.

"Was that a yes, or have you forgotten how to speak the common tongue?" A hand combed briskly through his blonde wavy hair while he replied in Avvish, sounding as if he was in disbelief at what was happening. Without warning, his eyes sharply stared at her from the corner of his eye predatorily making her start before he grabbed her waist pulling her so that she crashed against him. Her hands took hold of the meat of his pectorals and shoulders to steady herself. Holding her face with one hand he leaned in to kiss her. A crack echoed through the room when she slapped him again, "I said you could fuck me, not kiss me, heathen." The slightest smirk twitched his scared lip, even as he tried to repress any form of amusement.

Kissing was intimate and signaled a deeper connection between the two committing the act. This type of passion was not what was on the table tonight, not with him anyway. Unsure if it even made sense to her, but in her mind, kissing was done when making love, not fucking. They were both being placed in a difficult position with each other by outside forces, that much they could agree on. Tension, stress and powerful emotions brought them to the point of needing physical release. They were mentally exhausted, she could see it in the wrinkles of his brow and in the way he sighed. Everything he had was held in an iron grip, afraid to lose control of it. And then there was her. She, who never listened to him, who he had to defend, had to marry.

"Have it your way," he roughly faced her away from him. Once again familiarizing herself with the timeworn door, his hand followed the curve of her hip down her body. A leg was thrust between hers wedging them apart. She arched slightly pushing her ass back to grind against his swollen cock. When he let go of a sigh laden with the weight of his world, his fingers lingered by her mound. As if thinking too loudly, she read his thoughts and answered his inaction with a 'do it' and buck back into him. He slid one, then two sword-calloused fingers into her without further hesitation or friction. Closing her eyes as they all but rolled back in her head at the incredible feeling, she purred with satisfaction. "You're dripping with resentment."

She tried to hold back a moan as it came up, grinding against his hand as he curled his fingers inside her a few times, "Just for you."

"Hmph, or is it for the man you were thinking of when I interrupted you earlier?"

Her cheek rested on the door, so he could see the sly smile on her lips, "Wouldn't you like to know." She wasn't thinking of anyone in particular, but he didn't need to know that.

"Move," he commanded and gestured her away from the door not pleased by her answer. Not paying attention, she took it to mean to the bed, and having just placed her hands atop it, she heard him scoff a short laugh from behind, "On the floor, beds are for ladies. You are no Lady." She froze with her back to him hiding her smile finding it funny. They were locked in a game of insults and lust with no rules or reason. It was wild, unpredictable and exciting. There was bound to be a breaking point for them, and this was it. For how long could two people, from different worlds collide together before the weight of the world became too much to bear?

The golden tips of her hair skirted out around her shoulders as she spun back to face him from the bed, "Not even you can repudiate the fortuitous circumstances of my accouchement." Her words had the desired effect as a scowl darkened the hunger on his face, knowing he resented any insult to his intelligence. "Shall I explain it to you in words with fewer syllables?" Another stern command to get on the floor followed.

Balking and rolling her eyes at him, she sat on the bed and spread her legs teasingly tempting him to come to her. The Thane, again, looked her over with a cold countenance, though palmed at himself through his pants making her smirk with an air of superiority. He walked over and knelt before her running his hands up her thighs. Her fingers lightly began pulling at the strings, which just needed a bit more slack before his pants would fall freely from him. She looked up into his whisky eyes once more, drinking them in holding the last string before yanking it free. Suddenly, he grabbed her, still holding her thighs, throwing her to the ground. She bit her lip trying not to giggle, burying her face in the fur blankets that were strewn around the small space.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"Yield," his voice was low and deep as she heard the sound of his pants hitting the bed. His arms circled her behind holding her up against him while on her hands and knees. Leaning back into him, he was perfectly aligned to prod her wanting slit. When his head dipped into her sweet nectar, he backed away at first, but soon, each slow lean into each other let him in deeper and deeper until he penetrated her fully. The rush of being so completely filled made her muscle walls squeeze as they both made sultry sounds of pleasure, forgetting for a moment all else. The muscles of his chest and stomach went rigid against her back, feeling her stretch to take him fully as his hips drove him into her. An air of uncertainly began to taint their voracious activity as a wisp of rationality returned, yet neither stopped their rhythm. Having already crossed the point of no return, the game needed to be resumed before they lost their nerve.

"Funny you'd want this position, goat-fucker." A hard thrust and firm hand on her hip had her laughing and mewling at once. "I'm surprised you settle for animals, I'd have thought the Thane would have his pick of the women within his Hold."

"There are plenty of willing women," came the curt response. Sliding out, he rolled her onto her back to face him. She wiped the hair from her face quickly not giving him a moment's reprieve before her legs circled him and her heels dug into his lower back. Her greediness knocked him slightly off balance causing him to catch himself over her. Even so, he lowered himself down to his elbows so she could feel the brush of his chest and the heat of his core.

"And yet you're here with me. Curious. The men back home often keep mistresses." She snuggled deep down into the lush fur under her, raising her arms beside her head, grabbing at the thick pelt to anchor herself. He seated himself back inside and she arched sinfully up to meet his body.

"Why would I do that? Are you not willing?" Their faces were but inches apart as they continued the breathy conversation, broken up by sighs and moans.

She chuckled again, "Yes, but I'm not as complimentary as you're used to, I'm sure, considering how you vex me so."

Cullen dipped his head into the crook of her neck, his heavy breathing and the scrape of his stubble making her shiver. "Stop talking," he half mumbled, half growled into her skin which made her smile, though she worked to preserve her previous level of contempt to guard against her own emotions.

With her head to the side, she blinked a few times trying to keep her eyes from rolling back in her head. She tried to remember the last time she had felt so alive, so sensitive to a man's touch, but nothing came to mind. As she lay beneath him keening, part of her wished she wasn't enjoying it so much. When Cullen's hand traced the pink scar from the ritual down her arm to knead her breast, she pushed herself up firmly into his grasp. His touch was electric, jolting her aching heart into beating alongside his own.

Through her new heightened awareness, she saw the discarded dagger within reach. Cullen seemed to be well distracted exploring the hills and valleys of her body to notice her plotting. To be sure, Evelyn attempted to distract him with licentious sighs and squeezes when he sunk himself fully into her, all the while walking her fingers over to the blade.

A low chuckle came from him and their chins came to touch. The heavy honey in his eyes glistened flirtatiously in the firelight, "Do you really think I'm unaware of what you're doing?" She froze waiting for him to seize her hand, but instead, he just put his head back down on her continuing to drag in and out of her. "Go on, and I'll pretend that you succeed in this ploy."

When he nipped again at her neck, without another moment of hesitation, she grabbed the blade leveling the point to the side of his neck, "On your back, Rutherford. I'll not win while beneath you." He slowly rolled over on his back as she mounted him yet again, "I'll take my pleasure from you yet. Yield." Rolling and grinding down on him, every heavy breath of his was strong enough to make her feel outmatched, yet safe all at once. The night he had held her, shielded her with his body from harm, she had never felt such a sensation of being completely enveloped in another's protection. It was a foreign feeling after years of fending for herself against, even those who had sworn an oath to protect her, let alone her enemies.

Chasing her release, she felt her muscles begin to tighten and her eyes flutter shut when he disarmed her quickly, pushing her over to dominate her once more. The dagger clattered across the room completely unreachable now. "I wasn't done yet," came a breathy growl at the tease of being at the precipice of coming and being denied release by him a second time.

"Neither was I," he thrust into her from his knees holding her steadily by the throat. Something about being overpowered and dominated by the Thane tickled the arduous heat burning in her blood. She kicked at him, but it backfired as he spread her as wide as her legs let her. The depths in which he plunged into her were such that she ceased all resistance lost in the intense pleasure as he pounded against her cervix. Again, she found herself reaching her arms up clawing at the soft furs beneath her for support from his hard rutting, rocking her hips in tandem with his pace. She cried out as her climax approached, but having felt its start, he slowed his fervent pace.

When he released her throat and relaxed his stance, she peered up at him seeing he was clearly amused at the frustration he was causing. Though trying to play it off as if he had no idea why she was burning holes with her eyes into him, his scared mouth ever so slightly curving upwards, and mischievous eyes betrayed him. Making him seem even more boyish, was a fallen lock of his golden hair that rested on his forehead.

"The. Fuck. Rutherford?"

"Yield, Trevelyan."

"Are you seriously..." he just nodded his head as slowly as he thrust. She fell back beside herself in disbelief, "Cullen!"

"Say it," he bent over her waiting, both knowing now the inevitable outcome of this game. His face lowered, but he didn't look in her eyes instead watching her lips for the words with anticipation.

She growled knowing what she had to do to get the release she so badly craved, "I yield." It was mumbled and quiet, but the contest was at last decided. He smiled smugly at having bested the Phoenix in erotic combat but still wasn't satisfied.

"Say it again, so the gods can hear you."

A wild and yet unnerved look brightened her eyes imagining the gods and spirits watching them, "I yield! Now, wipe that smile off your face, you son of a--"

With a quick hand, he held her chin up to the right holding her down and she clawed at his taunt muscles reflexively to fend him off. Like a lion having bested its prey, he swiftly bit into her pulse just under her jaw. He trailed his teeth down the rest of the column of her neck. She gasped when he sucked on her windpipe then moaned when his hips began rutting hard into her once more.

With no more games to play, he finished her off quickly. He let go of her completely, and at the loss of his hold on her, she surprisingly circled his neck willingly with her arms. The gold of his eyes watched her every reaction as she neared the end, moving to gaze at her lips, still forbidden to kiss her. The whole night had been one cathartic release of emotions, ending with her toppling over that edge into pure orgasmic bliss.

Her head fell back for the first few searing waves before she brought her forehead to his whispering wantonly, "Cullen." The fire in the hearth mirrored her inner flame, flaring up blindingly. Positively high on her ecstasy, she placed a hand on his stubble, feeling the strong line of his jaw. Following her own rules against kissing, she ghosted her lips over his pronounced bone structure before settling near his ear. He hissed at the way her repeated words invoked such a feeling of want and he dipped her back down onto the ground with a roar before spilling his seed over her stomach. Both stilled taking in the other breathlessly and completely undone. Panting, he grabbed for her discarded and slightly burnt shirt and gently cleaned her with it before collapsing beside her with one arm over his head. They lay there silently in the afterglow staring up at the ceiling, both deep in thought as to what in the Void had just happened.

After several silent contemplative minutes, a knock on the door startled them. When the unexpected visitor called after her from outside, they sat up exchanging looks as the world came rushing back to them with a vengeance. Cullen stood and grabbed a blanket wrapping it around his waist while Evelyn did the same, though she remained seated by the fire. She turned her back to the door and tried to compose herself. Resigning herself to letting the Thane handle things, she simply watched him from over her shoulder, combing her fingers through her mussed hair - at least she would try not to get involved. He gave her one last hard look having composed himself for the encounter, and she nodded turning back to the fire as the soft yellow glow outlined her body. She jumped when she heard him throw open the door forcefully, the back of it slamming into the wall.

There was a tense silence for a few moments before Cullen spoke. "You are a guest of the Hold, but my hospitality and goodwill only go so far, Axlan." She turned her head over her shoulder, her eyes matching the Thane's intensity, but not quite his ire. As the two conversed, something from in the darkness caught her eye. Beyond the door, she saw a silhouette off to the side where Cullen wouldn't be able to see. Knowing Axlan came with four men, only one being wounded, it was safe to assume the third man was off to the other side of the door. Her mana reflexively came forward to be summoned at a moment's notice.

Fearing Cullen was about to be jumped unknowingly by the three men, she stood and made her way to the door hugging the pelt to her. "Did I not tell you earlier whoever gave you your information should be flogged?" A smug smile crossed her lips briefly before her face became unreadable.

"Seems I have been misinformed about the nature of your relationship with blondie here. Even you lied to me." Axlan didn't seem phased by the situation before him, brazenly regarding their state of undress amusingly.

"Did I?"

"You said you were going to challenge him?"

"Well, until that time I am his to do with as he pleases. Isn't that how it goes?" She gently clung onto Cullen in a show of solidarity, putting one arm in his, "Where I'm from in the Lowlands, lies and spying is something we are used to." He continued to eye her up and down trying to make her flinch, "You never did tell me what the arrangement was between you and Aysel? What did she get out of all this?"

He scoffed angrily, "Marriage to me."

She attempted to hold back a laugh but her sudden outburst drew his cold stare, "And I'm sure you had no intention of making good on that promise, correct? Not if you succeed in your pathetic attempt to kidnap me. She must've known that and that was why she was also trying to become Lady of this Hold." Cullen glanced away in disgust at the whole situation. Her head tilted with amused pity, "How many times have you bedded her since then, all the while having no idea you were just her fallback?"

His face contorted in rage at the idea of coming in second to Cullen, seemingly again, and as he went to jab a finger at her, he was struck backward by an unseen force. The Phoenix's mana was quicker than him, and even though she had barely used any power, the brute still found himself reeling on the ground, as did his men. At seeing the depth of Axlan's treachery, the resident Thane took a step forward but was stopped when she pulled him back still having a grip on his arm.

"I've recently found out," glancing up at Cullen before turning her raptor glare on their guest, "that to get something through your thick Avvar skulls I have to literally pound it into them. Let that serve as a warning that should you attempt to come after me again that a sore arse will be the least of your concerns. Especially now that you have no Templars to throw at me."

Cullen glowered, "You and your men will be gone before first light. May the Lady have mercy on you if you're still within my territory by then, because I won't." The wolf merely laughed as he brushed himself off before skulking into the darkness. The man had a knack for making her feel uneasy even in victory. She returned to her spot beside the fire while he lingered by the door making sure he indeed left.

After staring off into the flames to shake the tension from her neck and shoulders, she looked behind her at the Thane who had been watching her deep in thought. Her cheeks began to burn at the attention, though he wouldn't be able to see it in the dark of the hut.

"He's not one to quit, is he?"

"No. I fear, in his case, giving you my name will not stop him from his next scheme." She sighed heavily as the weight of circumstances came back to her. "You handled them well though. I hadn't seen his other men, no doubt another poor attempt to steal you, and possibly kill me at the presented opportunity."

"Should I have taken their lives instead? They will just be more trouble in the future."

"No. Whoever would be their next Thane would most certainly wage war on us, and we just aren't prepared for that right now." He rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, "I did enjoy watching you knock him on his arse, it was impressive."

"A compliment? Don't make me slap you again. That's not what we do apparently."

He chuckled rubbing the cheek she had whacked twice, "Gods woman, I don't know what that was." There was a quiet lull in the conversation as the events of the night replayed in their minds. "I've never--"

"Neither have I," she turned to seek absolution in the flames. He didn't say another word which helped her in pushing away the urge to confront the fact that she enjoyed it - enjoyed him. Rather than wait for him to voice any more confessions, since he seemed to be as unsure as she was, she changed the subject, "Are you staying or going?"

"Going. I should go see what trouble Axlan is making upon his exit." Listening to him dress and rearm himself, she became lost in thought watching the flames dance before her. The Thane, upon exiting, asked if she'd be alright to which she responded with a faint nod. When she was finally alone, she groaned resting her head in her hands, shaking her head. While she felt lighter, a small part of her had been reignited. The part of her heart that had been broken by the monster who tormented her for years, had been reforged. The damaged part that had allowed her to feel something during sex was alive again. Moving over to the bed, she laid down no longer feeling the buzzing intensity of the mead, but rather the fluttering of excitement. She thought herself broken from her past, but Cullen, unbeknownst to him, had rekindled the part of her she had forgotten.

No, he was not to be forgiven just because they lay with each other. He clearly was as confused as she on how to proceed, and what would be best is to forget it happened and continue as before. Was that what she wanted though? To be at odds forever with him? What if tonight was the gateway to a deeper understanding of each other? They both had hit their breaking point and together worked through it, granted in a highly physical way, but it had worked.

However, if he thought this would resolve the complexities of their marriage, he was sorely mistaken. She knew she still had to confront him, and the sooner the better, before her resolve waned. No, this evening did very little to change their dynamic. It didn't fix anything; it merely provided temporary relief for one of the many issues that plagued them, a balm that would likely dissipate in the morning light. Yet, as slumber beckoned, she found solace in the phantom presence of his essence enveloping her, drifting off into the Fade with a serene smile.

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The morning brought her a new clarity as the sun peaked over the horizon. Fate had come knocking on her door last night to try and take her away again and her dalliance with Cullen could not go unaddressed. Even if it was only a day, she didn't want to wait any longer to issue her challenge. There was a prophecy hanging over her head and one way or another, by the end of this day, she would know if she was to become Lady of the Hold or be freed from her obligation.

Most of the clan was still asleep after a vivacious night of activity, but Evelyn's adrenaline was pumping with purpose. She wrapped a hand on the door of the Rutherford's longhouse with an unmatched resolve. A few seconds of silence brought on another barrage of angry knocks. This time there was a murmur from somewhere behind the door, and a barely awake Branson opened it. Amid a 'good morning,' she pushed past him heading straight for the room at the back of the house. Rosalie stood from her work of making breakfast, watching her with some confusion as she sped past. Using a knockback spell on the double doors, they flew open banging against the walls.

Assuming that the only reason he was still in bed was because of a late-night chasing Axlan out of the hold, Cullen had instinctively grabbed his sword and was standing on the bed posed to attack at her dramatic entrance - naked. Evelyn's eyes were flickering with flames and her jaw was set tight ready to deliver to him her terms.

Her victim though was coming to from his sleep and grabbed some kind of pelt from the bed to cover himself with, "Gods woman, at least turn your back!"

"Shut up, I saw you naked last night."

"WHAT!?" Came a high-pitched shriek from the room behind them, accompanied by a shattering dish.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eye shut, growling, "What do you want?"

"You claimed me as a stolen bride last night, so I'm here to challenge your claim."

The two other Rutherfords popped their heads in the door to listen, both listening very intently. "You, get out!" barked the Thane and they quickly shut the doors. "You were saying?" Just then there was a commotion in the next room. The two listened as Rylen and Cassandra's voices were raised in alarm looking for the Thane. Knowing they were headed their way, Cullen quickly slipped on his pants and downed the entirety of the glass of water on his nightstand never taking his eyes away from hers. When the doors opened, a whole crowd of people stood back by the screen wide-eyed watching the stand-off happening before their eyes. "For the love of--"

"No, they can stay so I don't have to repeat myself," his face flushed, looking very uncomfortable discussing this in front of his siblings and council. She took a few steps forward so she was in the center of the room, "As I'm sure they are coming to tell you, I burnt my hut down." His face was contorting to give an indignant 'what' but she continued despite his question, "I did it because I will never be returning there."

Thoughtfulness tried to break through the sleep still in his eyes, "What is your challenge then? Name your test."

"I will be claimed by way of the hunt. You either claim me or let me go."

"What does that have to do with why you burned down your home?"

"I either leave Redhold a free woman or I return to live here with you. Regardless of the outcome, I will not be needing that decrepit shack any longer." He took a step closer to her, causing the emotions of last night to resurface when the same coolness hardened in his eyes. Her eyes trailed down his chest for a moment before snapping back up to his, but they were thankfully deep in thought looking about the room.

Suddenly, his face turned to stone, "I accept your challenge. When do you wish to begin?"

"Midday, today. Is that too soon for you?"

"Not at all, I'll be ready."

Rylen cleared his throat sheepishly, not wanting to get in the middle of two hotheads such as them, "We can have our hunters follow at a distance to make sure there's no outsider interference and you get back to the Hold without trouble." Evelyn shot a glare back at him. "Sorry lass, but I wager you'll be back with us before sundown."

"Because you all did so well the first time. At least Kitsa cannot aid you this time." Rylen, always finding her wit amusing just flashed his disarming smile and chuckled quietly.

She spun on a heel to leave, but he caught her arm halting her. She turned her head to see the Thane trying to suppress a hungry grin whispering, "So eager to be back in my bed, Trevelyan?" His finger pushed back her hair revealing the dark splotches from where he had marked his territory last night.

She scoffed, whispering back, "Don't flatter yourself. If I lose, I will share the room with Ros until we're wed." She tore her arm away with a huff and the crowd parted for her. The Augur and Dhara bowed their head to her slightly, Rylen and Cassandra still looked shocked and awed, the Rutherfords smiled and laughed and Dorian…

She gazed incredulously at the mage as to why he was here, "What? I'm nosey!"

The Phoenix looked over her shoulder to Cullen, "Be sure to bring this one with you, you'll need a skilled healer to treat burns." Her threat made his scarred lip smirk, which was not what she expected.

At midday, the whole of the Hold gathered with anticipation by the gate. Their Thane had been challenged, by no other than his stolen bride, the Phoenix, who was to save the Avvar from extinction. After storming out of Cullen's house, she had gone back to prepare herself for the fight ahead. Her magic burned through her veins all morning making her skin rosy and moist. She donned a heavy cotton shirt with light chain mail under the leather armor Cassandra lent to her. Dhara had stayed with her all morning after the challenge was issued to help her prepare. She laced the armor up at her sides and down her arms. Taking her mind off the task at hand, Evelyn admired the intricate detail placed on the armor. Decorative knots and metal studs adorned the upper half of the set, while the lower belt and thigh protection were for pure utility. She opted to wear her comfortable leather boots over the Avvar bulky fur leg coverings, sacrificing her warmth for speed.

Dhara insisted she paint her face, as was the custom, to which she hesitantly agreed having no idea what the eccentric mage was going to do to her this time. To her surprise, it was simply a thick bold line of black across her eyes. She apologized for not doing more, timidly explaining to her that it was because she was a Lowlander. That an Avvar bride would be decorated wildly with all kinds of adornments, whereas non-Avvar were marked as if cattle. Taking it as a badge of honor despite the intended insult. She'd show them just what this Lowlander was capable of.

When it was time for the hunt, she and the other women of the clan descended into the market. It was tradition that the women of the bride's hold join in solidarity behind her. It was to stand as a testament to show support for the bride in her endeavor, as the women behind her were wives, mothers, sisters and daughters all in some way touched by the bond of a union. Along the way, they were to offer her advice which some took seriously while others joked hoping that she'd make a man of their Thane.

The menfolk were already waiting for them in the market, and standing there, arms crossed, was Cullen staring at her with a lethal intensity. He was in his armor with the lion helm tucked under his arm. As she approached him, a hushed silence filled the market as everyone tried to listen to history in the making. The Phoenix, the one they had waited for, prayed for, had challenged their Thane. Cullen was not just fighting for himself, but his family and the entirety of the clan. She knew the pressure he was under, she was subject to its physical manifestation and release last night.

"I'll give you a two-hour head-start. Better make the most of it." His eyes had set on its prey and for the first time, he made her nervous. Her eyes never left his, even if they unsettled her, but she couldn't let him see that. She would have to outsmart the master hunter, and if need be fight him.

Something was eating away at her though, "Is it possible to speak with you, in private before we begin?" He sighed, thinking as he looked about only moving his eyes, but his face held firm. He gave a nod and led her into the Great Hall. It was still a mess after the Wintersend celebration, as tankards and food were lying about, along with overturned chairs and tables. Standing beside the door, she began without pause, "I don't want to have to kill you, you know." He stood up straighter and his eyebrow drew up, "If I'm forced to use my magic on you, you will die."

"How do you know it'll come to that?"

"Well, I'm certainly not going to just let you win--" a thought crossed her mind stopping her, "You don't actually believe last night changed anything do you?"

"Of course not," his nose scrunched with a scowl, "how thick do you think I am?" Her face lighted, "No, don’t answer that. You made your feelings towards me very clear. You see me as a liar, brute, barbarian without honor or compassion."

"And I'm selfish, rebellious, undeserving and insufferable." She shook her head trying to get back to the problem at hand, "And yet, I do believe you to be a good leader and brother to your family. I don't want to be the reason for their sorrow."

"Tell me, if you do somehow manage to defeat me, where will you go?"

"Not sure. Perhaps I come back here and take your job if you’re set on dying in this pursuit."

He half-heartily laughed, "I see."

"Cullen, I mean it. Just let me go, don't fight me."

A profound pained expression crossed his face, so much so she felt her face mirroring his, "You know I can't." He didn't need to say more for she knew exactly why. With a heavy sigh, he opened the door for her to leave and they filed out.

Cassandra escorted her to the gate. The huntress stopped her before she could run off. Worry invaded her facial features and she ran her hands up and down Evelyn's arms. "Whatever the Gods have in store for you, I hope you find peace with it, my friend." She gave her a reassuring squeeze back. "And if you do have to fight Cullen, hit low and on his left, he has an old hunting injury that makes his shoulder stiff when it's cold. It limits his range of movement with the shield." She smiled and gave a small chuckle at the advice.

"If I make it home, I'll send you some of those Orlesian chocolates I've told you about," she joked half-heartedly, having to fake a smile. The sudden thought that this could be the last time speaking with her pained her greatly, realizing that she never said goodbye to the others if this was to be it. Walking through the gates alone, she looked back once and immediately regretted it. A pang of hurt was felt in her heart as she thought about leaving her new humble life. Did she actually want to go home or had that want been so drilled into her from her first days with them that she didn't know how to let it go? Her father had told her not to, but where else could she hope to find help? Certainly not in another hold, perhaps the dwarves could be of assistance?

Suddenly, leaving began to lose its appeal. The freedoms she had begun to enjoy living in Redhold could not be found elsewhere in Thedas. When the gates of the Hold groaned shut, she knew there was no going back. She was to be hunted and she needed to give it her all or risk another visit from the gods. Who knew what they would do to her if they met in the Fade again? Endure or perish, Hakkon's words were as vital now as they were then.

Taking off in a sprint, her resolve hardened, she would not - could not - be easy prey today.