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“And so that was how I convinced him to sell me his sister!” Was the first thing the gryphon heard upon trailing back to his own tent after securing their prisoner. One of the Northmen was telling some of his comrades another tale of one of his escapades from his youth. It was a miracle any of them believed him as he was clearly pulling all these stories out of his ass. At least the gryphon was convinced he was. He simply ignored the attention seeking story teller as well as the gawking eyes of the other men who were listening in, laughing now and then. He was used to the stares; they were easy to ignore.

What he could not ignore however was that peculiar character of a princess he carried into camp. That girl has been on his mind all day, even throughout the whole time it took to fly from the mountain ruin to their camp. He knew it would be best to just stop thinking about it since she would be gone again soon anyway. Despite that fact, a part of him just couldn’t help it and feel sympathy for her.

“Get it together.” He murmured to himself in his mother tongue upon reaching his tent. The flap was already open, flying gently in the breeze. “Focus on the job. Don’t get soft hearted again!” He grumbled silently with a huff of frustration at himself. He closed the tent flap behind himself once he entered. His paws were dexterous enough to even use the leather straps to hold it in place properly. With a long sigh he sat down on his makeshift bed out of furs and pillows at the right side of the tent and stared at the ground, lost in thought.

“What were you mumbling there?”

Startled, he jumped up to all fours at the sound of the voice, caught off guard for a second. That was until he saw Gawain sitting in a corner where the light of the candles of on the nightstand next to the gryphon did not reach. Sitting on a chair at a table leaning back with his eyes closed, he simply smiled. The gryphon grunted in annoyed anger. “Dammit Gawain, again? Can’t you just say hello once I enter like a normal human?”

“Well, why didn’t you hear or see me? I thought you had better senses than that.” Despite the dark, the smirk on the man’s lips was clear as day for him to see.

The gryphon narrowed his eyes as he sat down and got comfortable again. “You are sitting in a dark corner, not moving at all like a damn statue. What are you doing brooding about like that anyway?”

“This is my tent too; you know? And I Could ask you the same thing, Craal.” Gawain opened his eyes and leaned forward now, slightly into the candle light. “You seem to be doing a lot more brooding than usual.”

Craal’s crown feathers stood on attention when his name was dropped like that. Gawain knew all too well that someone could overhear outside. He also knew how Craal would not like that one bit. “Do not say my name so loud.” He especially pronounced the word loud, snapping his beak as he said it.

“Yes, yes, sorry, I know. Sorry but I highly doubt anyone of the Northmen cares one bit should they hear.”

“I care, and you know that!” Craal said sharply and Gawain’s smirk actually diminished, giving way for a sincerer smile as he nodded in acknowledgment. He leaned back in his chair again and Craal relaxed more as well.

“Didn’t mean to actually insult you, mate.” Gawain said with genuine compassion in his voice. “You seem like there is something on your mind, something bothering you. Is it about the girl?” Craal sighed and shrugged, resting his head on his paws. “… that looks like a yes to me.”

Craal sighed as he closes his eyes, at first wanting to only ignore Gawain. He had known the man for a great deal of time though, and sought in him a confiner before in hard times or when he was simply feeling down. Slowly he opened his eyes again only to see Gawain kneeling right in front of him now. That man really could move quietly. “Is it like that job in Goldstein you told me about?”

“No, not like that it’s…” He gulped once, trying to find the right words in his head to describe why he felt so for her. “This girl, or young woman rather I suppose, has a certain… cunning and finesse, coupled with need for freedom. I have only heard some things from the spy reports but seeing it for myself was just unexpected, I think. What I mean is… unexpected that-“

“She reminds you of yourself? That what you’re trying to say?” Gawain said with a slight smirk.

Craal managed a smirk of his own at last but looked away from him. “It sounds silly when you say it, but I suppose… yes, a little bit.” He shook his head before setting it down on his paws again. It was true, at least to an extent. This princess had a very different upbringing than he had, yet they both yearn for freedom. In her case she wants to make her own choices. From what he could gather, she doesn’t even want to fit into the noble princess role. She wanted to go on a hunt to feel some resemblance of the free life of the nobles who were born men. Instead what she got was an ambush, almost getting raped and getting captured by gryphon.

He sighed once more and cursed his compassion silently in his mind before speaking up. “Gawain… could you do me a favor?”

---

Her dreams have given her no respite from the harsh reality of her situation. Once again she was forced to relive the moment those northern savages. It was almost the same as last time, yet no less traumatizing. They ripped off her clothes with the same grace as wild predators. She fought and fought, but it was all for naught. The gryphon came again as well, smirking down on her. He pinned her to the ground with his mighty paws, claws unsheathed as he held her there roughly. His other paw began to trail towards one of her breasts and grasped it ungently, drawing blood. She screamed, in horror more so than in pain.

They scream carried over into the waking world as she jolted upwards. All her clothes clung to her, drenched in sweat. One hand went to her head right away. She felt awful. The last time she had such nightmares… actually never before had she had such terrible ones, not that she could recall.

“Pretty intense nightmare, eh?” A man’s voice spoke in accented Redorien.

Startled she whirled around towards the voice, belonging to this apparent ex-knight, Gawain of Morgraig. “Have you been watching me sleep?” She asked, appalled by the mere thought.

The accusation made the man frown. “I have arrived but a few moments ago. I was send to wake you but… you seemed to be having a rough dream and I did not fancy being punched in the face upon waking you. Such a thing happened twice to me before. Never again, I tell you.” He said with a soft chuckle as he leaned against one of the wooden posts in the entrance way of the tent that held it up.

She grasped her head again, groaning. “And why is it you and your ragged band of bandits want to wake me anyway? I am your captive, aren’t I? Why not just leave me in peace?”

Gawain just gave her a bemused expression with one eyebrow raised. The man took a step into the tent then, a strange mischievous smile plastered on his face. “Allow me to counter all those many question with just one little inquiry of my own.” While he said that he leaned back slightly and seemed to reach for something outside the tent. He took out a slightly curved bow and tossed towards her, landing shortly before her. “Do you want to go hunting?”

While the question had certainly caught her off guard her answer was clear in her mind. With the bow he had thrown at her feet in her hands she followed the man through the camp, feeling the gazes of the northern mercenaries on her with every step. She was their captive. They meant to ransom her to a man who she had told them was an enemy to her father with seemingly no remorse. And yet here she was with a bow in hand and a quiver hanging from her hip with ten arrows inside. Gawain had said he would have offered some fresh clothes as well if they had any to fit her. Her gambeson was fine with her even if probably smelled awful by now. At least he was able to give her some good new boots which fit surprisingly well.

The former knight did not speak that much on their way to the forest that lay on the outskirts of the camp, only briefly commenting to not give the stares that much mind. Many of those men had not seen a woman in months, he said, and to be careful to not stare back too long lest they see it as a sign of interest and payed her a visit at her tent later at night. From the way he chuckled it must have been a joke but she did not laugh. It only brought back those horrible memories from the day she was kidnapped.

It was only once they had reached the forest and were completely on their own when she began to bring her most pressing questions to words. “Why are you doing this, exactly? You give me a bow and yet I am- “

“Our hostage, yes I am quite aware.” He smiled shrewdly as he briefly turned towards her before his attention was turned back to the forest. He had his own back slung over his shoulder and a quiver at his right side, wearing fine green garbs fit for a noble on the hunt. “A certain someone thought it a fitting compensation however to bring you on a hunt since the one you had planned with all those nobles was so rudely interrupted.”

A certain someone? Tamara frowned as she followed Gawain deeper into the forest. The answer came to her tongue more swiftly than to her brain. “You mean the gryphon set you up to this?”

Once again he chuckled, mischief gleaming in those strange golden eyes of his. “Why yes he did. He seems to respect you; you know?”

“I don’t understand.” She confessed as she shook her head, unable to help herself a little laugh at this whole situation. “He kidnaps me, humiliates me and then claims to respect me?”

“Do not shun him so, I beg of you.” He said in a strangely soft voice when he stopped for a brief moment, kneeling on the ground. “He has his reasons for being the way he is and has his own way of showing affection. He can be hard to get used to, yes, but he does have a good heart.” He picked up something from the ground and smeared it on his fingers before smelling it. “Hmm can’t be that far.” He mumbled to himself.

Still, Tamara did not relent on the gryphon. “He kidnapped me! Do you expect me to go and thank him now for sending you to go out on a little trip into the forest with me? He plucked me away from my life with little to no respect that day!”

“Did he force himself on you?” The sudden tone in Gawain’s voice made her take a step back. He had shouted the question and glared back at her with a sudden burst of anger shining bright in his eyes. “Did he rip of your clothes and joined in with the men? No, he did not! He killed those men, our own men, to defend you! Not because you are more valuable unharmed but because it was unjustly done! So do not deem to judge him or any of us for what we do to earn our keep and survive in this harsh world!”

He glared at her only briefly after he was done talking before continuing onwards without a second word. She was totally taken aback by the barrage of words. Meekly, she followed him, unknowing what to say at that point. A part of her thought he was right. What right did she have to judge the gryphon or any other of their company on the actions of a few? Then again, while he did not rape her, the gryphon still kidnapped her and took her from her friends and family without her consent. Her mind was racing with these conflicted thoughts when Gawain urged her to stop. He kneeled and motioned for her to do the same.

“There are deer over there. Their drinking from a small pond by the looks of it.” The outburst from before had seemingly been forgotten and his mind was back on the hunt. “Have you shot with a bow before?”

She blinked at the question, her mind still preoccupied. “W-well, yes but only a little.” She stuttered uncharacteristically. Images of her time with Bernard showing her the bow and the crossbow flashed through her mind.

“Do you think you could hit one of those deer from here?”

She looked over and saw them all there huddled near a little pond. From her position it was a free shot, no trees in the way. If she did this right she could finally show someone who was not Bernard that she was not some damsel. Not that she needed to impress this man who was one of her captors, but the thought still made her smile despite everything. Without a word she knocked an arrow and raised to her legs. In the corner of her eye she could see Gawain watching her in anticipation. She glanced briefly at the leaves of the trees. Barely any wind and coming from the south where the deer were. She drew the arrow to her cheek and aimed one of the deer who had raised his head. The muscles in her arm strained as she held the arrow and before long she released it

The arrow whistled through the air, hitting the poor creature in the torso instead of the head. All the other fled right away as one in their midst cried out. She cursed under her breath as the wounded creature wanted to flee too but was cut short by a second arrow right in the skull. The deer stumbled over and was dead right away. Tamara’s gaze quickly shifted to Gawain who stood next to her then with his own bow in hand that had just loosened the arrow. He glanced at her in turn and smirked briefly.

The hunt went on for a little while longer. He said they shouldn’t return before she had shot her own deer down. Besides one deer wouldn’t feed the whole camp. He failed to mention that they weren’t the only two going out to hunt for food but she cared little. She would lie if she would claim that she did not have at least a little fun on this hunt. They returned carrying one deer each.

The damn beast was certainly heavy so she was glad when they reached the camp again. Gawain pointed out to bring them to directly to camp center which was where most of the fires burned. Several animals were already being butchered when they arrived. The men there were talking amongst themselves in their foreign tongue. Some greeted Gawain as they came in and he greeted them back in Norse.

“Taking hostages on hunts now?” One man said as he admired the deer she let slump to the ground in that moment. That was when she realized he has spoken Redorien, understandable despite his heavy accent.

“Just doing a friend a favor.” Gawain responded with a grin, letting his own deer down as well. “She is better with that bow than I expected though. That one she’s been carrying she took down all by herself.”

“Been on hunts before eh?” The Northmen asked with one raised eyebrow.

“Just one.” She responded bitterly, squeezing her shoulder where it ached from carrying such a heavy load.

“Ah.” He chuckled. “I thought all them southern nobles keep their daughters locked safely in their keeps and castles.”

“And I wager I am a better with the bow than you.” She blurted out and regretted it right away. The man looked near twice as old as her and broadly built, his face marked with a battle scar that had narrowly missed his left eye. His red beard and hair were long, braided elegantly. Her regret turned to relief when the man just laughed.

Gawain then tried to show her how to skin a deer but managed to surprise him and some of the Northmen by showing them that she already knew how. A while ago Bernard had shown her how a few times and let her do it herself as well. She had insisted. When jokingly asked by the same broadly built man who had received them, whose name turned out to be Sigvald Einarsson, what other skills she has hidden up her sleeve she responded in earnest. “Well, I can fight with sword and shield, I can ride, I can fish, I can knit and I can make excellent stew.”

She had so enjoyed all the faces of the Northmen in that moment. All those foreigners who thought woman like her soft, doing nothing but sitting at their fireplaces all day. For all she knew that may well be true for the noble ladies further down south or even some in Nordholm, but not for her. They all exchanged strange looks while Gawain had only smiled with his arms folded. “Well, we have been lacking in the cooking department.” He said and the other men laughed except for Sigvald Einarsson, who grew red.

Gawain came closer and offered her a deal in that moment. “How about you cook for us today and I take you hunting again on the morrow. What do you say?” He had asked with a smile and all those able to understand his Redorien looked at him strange, then at her.

Why she accepted his offer she could not really say. Perhaps it was to prove to these people that she was as good as she claimed, or maybe because deep down she really wanted to go hunting with that man again. When she was brought to their food supplies and shown all they had available she could see herself back in the castle’s kitchen again. There were not as many supplies and thus not nearly as many ideas for dishes in her mind, it was still something. She had asked Gawain again why they were treating her almost like one of their own instead of a captive.

All he said was. “Why not? Should we chain you up and bore you to death? Why not let you do what you’re good at while you’re here so you can enjoy yourself at least a little. Believe it or, most of us here are not bad people. Most.” Then he had laughed. It was nearing afternoon when she was done preparing all the food with the help of some of the Northerners. The stew had needed to boil long; she had told them. At first they all did what she wanted only begrudgingly. Oddly enough, after they tasted the first strew she made all by herself, most respected her when she told them what to do next or when she wanted them to bring her something after they tasted the first stew. It seemed like they truly and honestly had respect for her skill and when even Sigvald, who was as it turned out was usually in charge of the meals, confessed that she had a real gift for it, she beamed with pride.

“Cooking eh? Wouldn’t have expected that from a princess.” Gawain commented while the men were eating her stew and she watched with pride in her eyes. “Who taught you?”

Tamara was unsure if she wanted to answer that in earnest. It was Bernard who taught her how to cook just as he taught her how to fight and hunt. It was a hobby of his he had told her and by showing her it had become a hobby of hers as well. One more thing she enjoyed doing that was ‘unfit for a princess’. In the end she just answered with. “A friend of mine.” Gawain has simply nodded and did not inquire further.

No matter how much pride it had brought her to see how much these people enjoyed her food, it could not fully overshadow the fact that the was still a prisoner. It could be far worse, true, but also far better. After the meal was served to everyone and she had no more to do in terms of food preparation she was shown back to her tent right away. That again was a reminder how much freedom she truly had here.

She picked up reading books again inside. There was not much else to do after all. The writings about her ancestor were quite dull to be true, while his life seemed to be anything but. Although the texts were awfully written it was not lost on her that it was him who made Nordholm into what it was to date. A strong kingdom with large amounts of autonomy under the Kaiser of the Redorien Empire. The book told of war and battles, intrigue and diplomacy. It led her to thinking that she may actually grow a liking to history books should someone find her one written with some energy to it.

It was later in the day, when she had just begun reading a second book about the history of the Redorien empire that Gawain came to her tent and told her that Tiberius invited her to sup with him. As she was growing awfully tired of those books, she agreed in a heartbeat.

He led her to his big tent right away, settled in the center of the whole camp. A table had been set up within the tent big enough for around six people to sit at comfortably. The old man already was seated at the end of the table. Two men unfamiliar to Tamara sat at his sides. To his right a middle aged man with a square face and tired, grey eyes. His hair was greying in a lot of places with his hairline seeming to recede ever further away from his forehead. The man to his left seemed the exact opposite. He was wide of built, wearing a short sleeved tunic that showed his muscles. His hair was long, fiery red, and decorated with pearls that were braided into his hair as well as his well-groomed beard. His eyes were icy blue and were full of life. The gryphon was there as well, sitting further away on a pillow.

They all looked at her as she and Gawain entered.

“Ah, I am gladdened to see you accepted my invitation, princess Tamara.” Tiberius said with a bright smile on his face, motioning to the plates already set on the table. Something that looked like fish mixed with some vegetables. “Please, come sit. The food may not be as good as yours, but it is tolerable. Northman aren’t really known for their cuisine.”

“Sigvald does make an excellent rabbit stew I’ll have you know.” The man with the red beard said. As he spoke his name Tamara realized he looked quite familiar to him. Same hair, same body built. His accent was far better than any of the other northmen she had heard speak Redorien. “There’s just not enough ingredients in our supplies or around this damn area.”

“Also not enough rabbits.” Gawain chimed in as he walked by Tamara and sat down next to the tired looking man. No one had begun eating yet. They were waiting for her she realized as the Northman responded.

“Exactly! I tell you, my men have loved his stew in the past. Our hostage should not be allowed to win them over like that.”

“Win them over?” The gryphon said from the back while Tamara sat down slowly at the other end of the table, disliking the idea to sit down to that Northman who obviously did not like her. The Northman that, if she heard that right, must be the leader of this group of Northmen “What do you think she will achieve? To win her freedom in a cooking competition? Besides, your brother admitted how good it was.”

Ah, his brother, Tamara thought as she looked up from her plate at the red haired man. That explains the similar appearance.

“Yes he did, but that does not mean she is better him at cooking.” He said, seeming more and more frustrated as he turned in his chair to glare at the gryphon. “Some of my men have claimed that, you know?”

The gryphon shrugged with his wings, looking at him blankly. “And?” Tamara could see him bale his hands into fists. This was certainly a whole lot more entertaining than the books.

“Gentlemen, please! Not now! Let us have dinner and leave these grievances behind us, at least for now.” Tiberius said with a raised voice.

The Northman turned back towards his food and threw a dark glance at Tamara before looking at Tiberius. “Fine.” He grumbled. “Let us.” Just like that he began to dig in without further ceremony. The old man sighed and joined in. So did Gawain, the tired looking man and the gryphon in his own corner with a bigger plate and what looked like half a deer simply roasted. Tamara turned her attention to her own food while wondering why that man was so overly protective of his brother’s cooking skills. It seemed quite an unlikely thing for a Northman to value so highly. Then again, what did she know of their culture.

As she began to eat her own meal she stopped herself from commenting on how bland it tasted. There was some salt, but only barely. It was the only bit of flavoring in it at all. Nonetheless she was happy for the warm meal. Tamara had begun to eat more earnestly when the sound of forks and eating were joined by a voice again. “So,” Tiberius began after clearing his throat. “I have heard that our feathered friend has taken you to the mountaintop cavern on his way here. Quite impressive architecture, I must say. What else does one expect from dwarfs, true, but the pipes, the lamps, technology long forgotten by the world. You have seen it all, I hope?” He raised a brow at the last sentence, lowering his fork to watch her.

“Ehm… dwarfs?” She asked in a confused manner. Everyone in the tent looked at her. Even the frail old man gave her a strange glance. Suddenly she felt judged. “I-I know what dwarfs are! I just thought they were, you know, …stories.” She gulped once, cleared her throat and continued eating as if nothing happened. She heard Gawain chuckle and the Northman just laugh shamelessly.

“Just like I am just a story, my dear?” The gryphon said with that same damned smirk. “You should really read more books. Your lack of knowledge about the world is embarrassing. You probably don’t even know about the imperial gryphon legion of your very own Kaiser.”

Tamara’s eyes went wide. “Wait… you serious?” No, surely she would have heard of that at least.

Right she was, for as soon as she said that it was the gryphon’s turn to laugh. Of course that was just a test! Damnit, Tamara! At that rate the rest had joined in, safe for Tiberius who was just shaking his head. Tamara could feel her face grow hot in anger and embarrassment, glaring especially at the Northman who was slapping the table from laughing so hard. Her lack of knowledge wasn’t that funny! She was about to just get up and go back to her tent when Tiberius quieted them down. “Alright, alright. I understand that the plight of lacking knowledge of the world can be funny, but do not go too hard on the princess. She is still royalty even if she is our hostage, be sure you all keep that in mind!” He said, waving his fork at everyone. “In a matter of days she will be gone, but behave yourself for that long at the very least.”

The reminder of her fate brought an icy chill up her spine. They wished to ransom her to Duke Brocwulf. When first she heard that name she could not quite place it, but Tiberius himself called him her father’s rival. If her memory did not deceive her, he was far more than that. He was the ruler of the neighboring duchy of Westermark. She could recall, even if only vaguely, that a war happened years ago between her father and that man. A war her father won. Fear was ever growing in her stomach that this was not about ambition for a claim of land or ransom. If the things Tiberius said were true that her father had no gold to pay for her freedom anyway. Still, she could not help and think it may be worse than that.

What if Brocwulf simply wanted revenge.

If perhaps one of the Duke’s own children died during that war, which she could not confirm but was not unlikely, then her very life was in danger. Suddenly her appetite was all but gone and the rest of the food on her plate lay there untouched as she sank deeper into her worried thoughts. She had not thought about it until this very moment. The hunting and the cooking helped greatly to distract her mind, even forgetting for a bit that she was still a hostage of a group of people that want to sell her for their own gain. Her ears picked up some conversation about finding an entrance and how much this gold would be enough to keep the Northmen for quite a bit. There was a bit more about equipment and some other things she did not quite pick up while her mind wandered.

Something did come to her mind then, besides the fear gnawing at her stomach. She was at a table with what looked to be all the people in the camp that had held some authority, with the old man named Tiberius obviously being the one on top. If she could convey that her life was in danger, then perhaps they would listen.

Before she could come up with anything meaningful to say, the old man went one, pride shining clear in his voice. “With my funds secured, and the mercenaries paid for, the true work can begin.” He took a gulp from his cup, wine by the looks of it. “You see, these men of the north are not just strong fighter, no. They will be doing a lot of digging up there. When our feathered colleague took me up there to access the place I saw that many of the tunnels were either fully or partly collapsed. That is why many of the men you see within this camp are not really professional soldier, but rather miners.”

“They aren’t too shabby with a spear either.” The red bearded Northman interjected, arms folded.

“Well, yes.” Tiberius glared at the man angrily after the interrupted before moving on. “Mostly they will be mining however. And you, princess, saw what was up there. Just imagine what else can be found in the tunnels that reach deeper into the mountain! Perhaps in due time we’ll even find another entrance somewhere on ground level-“

“Tiberius,” For the first time the man with tired eyes said a word. Tamara had almost forgotten he was even there. The same man then said something to Tiberius that sounded like Eldorien, of which she understood not a word. They seemed to argue back and forth a little while the rest of the table was quiet. The gryphon spoke up as well, also in the same language. Gawain did the same. At that rate she was feeling like the stupidest person alive. Not only had she not known gryphons and dwarfs were real, but she also seemed to be the only one who couldn’t understand a damn word that was being said.

As everyone was done with their food Tamara was seriously considering leaving at that point. What could she even say to persuade these people not to give her up? Whatever they were discussing sounded a bit heated between the man with the tired eyes and Tiberius specifically. Even the damn Northman spoke Eldorien, despite her thinking they were uneducated savages. You are the uneducated savage, she thought to herself and sighed. “Can someone tell me what-“

“A moment, princess!” Tiberius interrupted her, his voice strained with frustration and impatience, before going right back to arguing with the men at the table.

She blinked at the rebuke, balling her fists and anger at how she was being ignored. Fuck this, she thought, and got up from her chair. Tamara practically marched out, fists balled at her sides. Even then the men at the table seemed to be too busy arguing that keeping track of her. They probably thought even if she escaped she knew that she had no way of finding her way back home on her own. The guards on the tent’s outside barely glanced at her, which made her even angrier as she stomped… she wasn’t even sure were to. All this was just so incredibly unfair. Her fate, their superior knowledge and her seeming invisible.

“Hey, princess!” She heard the gryphon’s voice behind her, but kept going. Of course of everyone in that tent it had to be him that came after her. She tried her best to ignore him this time as she heard him trot after her. “Where do you think you’re going, my dear? Need some fresh air? I know the old man smells funny. You get used to it… well almost.” Tamara did not respond and just kept walking even as he was right beside her and keeping up with ease. “You wouldn’t want to know what they were saying anyway, trust me. Started interesting, but got boring and annoying really quick.”

She just sighed and turned right, following the way she knew would lead to her tent. “But Tiberius was being scolded by the other for sharing information with you that you shouldn’t know. Ach,” he made a strange clacking sound with his beak. “Paranoia I say. I see no real reason why you can’t know. It’s not like you will find a way to sabotage the whole operation after you are gone.” He chuckled to himself while she just frowned. Her tent was in view. “Honestly a shame at this point that we will have to give you away to get that gold. The meals you prepared were certainly better than the drivel the Northmen cook up. Unlike knowledge of the world outside your castle, it is something you’re actually good at.” The gryphon paused for a merciful moment, which lasted only a few seconds unfortunately.

Tamara grasped at her tent flap, almost shaking in built up rage she was trying to hold back as there were men walking around the camp that could see them and did not want to make a show. “But that you did not know that gryphons and dwarfs are real is truly baffling. Are you perhaps allergic to reading?” Her knuckles went white with her grasp on the tent flap. She took a deep breath. “I mean; you know dragons are real right? Wait… you can read, right?”

Enough was enough!

“What are you doing?” She yelled out her question as she spun on her heels. A few men that were walking by looked her way, one even taking hold of an axe. The gryphon drew his head back and blinked in what she surmised was surprise. Good, hopefully he didn’t have a snarky remark for that one.

“My beak is moving, as you can see.” That damn smarmy bird said with a now growing smirk on his beak. The gryphon sat down on his haunches, head slightly tilted. “I know you can’t read my lips but surely must at least know what talking is?”

Tamara could feel her face grow red at the mere sight of that smirk. This was all just too much for her. Never before had she been treated with such a lack of disrespect. It hit all the harder after the day had begun with such a different view on it all, but after that dinner she saw it all as it really was again, in her mind. A band of outlaws who want to sell her to a stranger just to fund some sort of excavation. These were far from good people, she told herself once more, as she stared at that damned smirk. Oh, how she wished she could wipe it off his beak somehow.

When her gaze went from his smarmy grin to the ground in an attempt to ignore it an idea came to mind while her eyes were wandering. Taking a deep breath, she took a single step forward, fists balled tightly. The gryphon still smirked ever so proudly as she gazed back up at him. “My dear, are you alright? You seem a little tense.” His tone was still teasing. Yes, she would do it, any moment now. “Is it me? I hope I do not upset you with my words, my dear. I assure you I merely jest.” His smirk just grew wider. There was so much amusement visible in his eyes alone. “My confidence can be deterring to some, I know. Dragons are much worse though, trust me. They are full of arrogance that is duly undeserved, unlike that of gryphons, of course.” He held a paw to his chest, keeping up his smug grin and closed his eyes as he went on. Now as the time. “That one time I met one for example waAAACK!”

She had kicked him square in his exposed balls.

The gryphon’s expression changed from cocky smirk to shocked pain immediately. His eyes went wide, feathers on his head standing at attention. Right away both his paws went to grasp at his battered pride, his body crumbling in on itself as he did so, mewling in pain and embarrassment.

“That is what you get!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, letting her fury run rampant as she almost kicked him again lying there in a ball of feathers and fur. Instead she brought all her anger, frustration and fear into her words. “You laugh, you joke and belittle like it’s all just a game! Like I am just a game!” She could see Northmen on the corner of her vision approach her with weapons drawn. It mattered not for she knew was only focused on the gryphon, now scrunched up beneath her. “I am tired of it! Today I almost felt welcome here, despite of my situation, thanks to the noble efforts of that knight! I have no idea why I was willingly blinding myself to the truth! You and the rest here are all monsters, happy to sell me to a man who will probably kill me or worse to get revenge on my father!”

Her breathing was erratic and as she finally looked up from the crumbled gryphon she saw several men around them both, pointing spears at her, expression of both confusion and amusement amongst them. None of them said a word and only watched her to see if she would try anything else. Tamara’s anger slowly receded however, her breathing slowing. She heard the gryphon groan in pain as he got one paw away from his groin to push himself up. Under different circumstances she might have laughed at the scene of an ever so proud creature reduced to a whimpering mess. Part of her wished to flee, to run somewhere as she watched him rise slowly. If she got him angry she was not sure she could handle the backlash. Yet, she stood her ground, her fury still not quite gone.

“You… certainly have stronger legs than I thought.” Was the first thing he said once he laid eyes upon her again. There was just a hint of raw emotions in his golden eyes when they met hers. Embarrassment, anger perhaps as well, but they were quickly hidden away behind whatever guise the gryphon was pulling. “You got me good, I admit that.” He let out a deep breath, one paw still holding his battered balls. Some men around them she could hear chuckling, at which she noticed his ears twitching as well as his beak. He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on her as he seemed to do his utmost to ignore anyone else. “You shouldn’t be over dramatic though, my dear. I am sure the noble would not pay so much just to kill you. Surely it is just-“

“You have no idea who that man is and the history he shares with my father!” She interrupted loudly, stepping forward, pushing back her own fear as she glared deep into his eyes. “That duke waged war against my father years ago! I cannot be so sure as to what happened exactly, but he lost severely and I remember he lost part of his family in the war too.” Her voice become less loud and more focused, not taking her eyes off of his for even a second. “So don’t tell me I am being dramatic, or I’ll kick you again. Harder this time.”

Tamara tried her best to read the bastard’s expression, especially his eyes. There was nothing there for her to read however. Whatever he was hiding he was damn good at doing so, for the only thing she got was amusement at her threat as his smirk returned. She did not buy that smirk anymore though. It looked fake to her, a sham so the men around them would not know how he was really feeling. That is at least the read she had on him so far. He could not be so emotionless; she had seen it before. He was hiding them.

“I assure you, princess, you won’t get another chance.” He rumbled in an amused tone, his head now lowered to her eye level. Their eye contact did not break, smirk wide on his beak once again as if nothing happened.

“What is all this commotion?” The knight Gawain made his way to the now amble crowd that had formed around them. He was not in his armor but still held an unsheathed longsword in his right hand. Right beside him was the red haired Northman from the tent as well, looking at the bird with a big grin.

“Nothing Gawain, just leave it. The princess here was merely making her way to her tent to relax, is that not right?” The gryphon explained to the man before asking her in a tone she thought might be meant to threaten her.

Before she could respond though, the red haired Northman bellowed out in laughter. “You did what to him, girl? How did you manage that?” He asked her between laughing fits, holding his belly. Other men were quick to join in, except for Gawain, who just threw a questioning look at both her and the gryphon. The gryphon looked more and more uncomfortable as the men around began to laugh in earnest. Tamara would feel bad for him had it not been for all the prior interactions she had with him. Especially when she saw his ears and feather drooping, his eyes now showing clear signs of his shame and anger. As they continued to laugh the gryphon turned and forced his way through the crowd of men, pushing them aside, causing some men to yell instead of laugh. The red haired man yelled after the gryphon, still in Redorien. “Kicked the sharp tongue right out of him too it would seem, haha!”

“Leave it, Eyvind! Just stop!” Gawain suddenly commanded, even raising his blade a little. “Do not mess with him, or you’ll mess with me too.”

Surprised by this unprecedented bout of defiance the red haired man, who apparently was named Eyvind, frowned at Gawain, his laughter now died down. His attention remained on Gawain only for a few seconds, turning his head to smirk at Tamara instead. “Thank you for the sudden burst of rage, princess.” Said Eyvind, giving her a mocking bow. “I wish I could have been there to see the smug bastard’s expression myself.”

Tamara only stood there, unsure of what to do or say as Gawain turned his glare towards her. She met his gaze while Eyvind made the rest of the crowd disperse, ordering them all to go back to work or whatever it was they were doing. As they were all slowly dwindling away so did Eyvind, but Gawain stayed until they were all gone, glaring daggers at her. Something about those man’s eyes were disarming. Whether it was the unnatural golden color or just the way he stared she could not tell, but it something about it made her avert her eyes. He approached her with his sword by his side, holding it by the blade.

She tensed slightly as he stopped before her, feeling his eyes staring at her. Slowly she raised her gaze to meet his. “Do not do that again. He has been through enough not to need any more of this from these damned mercenaries added on top.” He spoke through grit teeth. “I understand he can be aggravating, but don’t do that again.” He glared at her still even after he was done talking. Her resolve rose back up and her eyes did no longer flee from his.

“Why not? He wouldn’t stop belittling me and I am tired of being treated like-“

“Like a prisoner?” He interjected. “Or tired of being treated like a commoner. You will not find anyone here aside from Tiberius give you any leeway just because of your title. Simply learn to control yourself and wait for the ransom. Then this will all be over.” He was about to just turn around and leave the conversation at that. This was her chance to get the ear of this man about her imminent doom. She had to take it.

“Wait! I assume you have heard what I said about the duke?”

He stopped turning and looked back at her, one eyebrow raised. “Hard not to. The whole camp probably heard at how loud you were yelling. It did not sound like your claim has a leg to stand on though, so I do not see why-“

“You’re not a bad man, sir, I can see that.” She said, trying her utmost to whatever honor was left in this former knight. “Is it a risk you would be willing to take? I-I know that I cannot be certain but I know in my heart that nothing good will happen to me once this duke Brocwulf has me in his clutches.” She struggled to find the right words for a moment, moving her hands back and forth as if trying to grasp the words out of thin air. Gawain meanwhile remained patient, his expression now stoic. “I… I confess myself afraid. Afraid and angry at everything going on. This morning when you took me hunting I could for a while forget where I was. Even when I was cooking I felt… welcome. And yet when I was eating with you all at the table and my fate was brought up I… I recalled where I heard the name Brocwulf before and… I… I just…”

“It is fine, no more.” Gawain stopped her, holding up one hand. His expression was one of shame and sorrow, which was when she realized that she had become teary eyed. Quickly she wiped the wetness away, feeling some heat return to her face. “I will bring the issue to Tiberius, that is all I shall say about it.” Whereas his voice was hard and cold before it was now warm and soft. “For now go into your tent and I recommend you stay there for the remainder of the day. On the morrow I shall come to you again and offer you to join me on the hunt. You are free to say no of course, but it may help to take your mind off these worrying thoughts.”

He turned around with a sigh and began to walk away. Just as Tamara was about to go into the tent as he suggested however, he spoke again. “Oh and one more thing.” He met her eyes. “I am not against humbling the ego bird sometimes. Gods know he could do with a little less pride sticking to his feathers. Just not in public, especially before the mercenaries. You understand?”

Tamara did not truly see why this man was so protective of the gryphon’s feeling, but at the moment she would not dare question that further. There was already enough on her mind. She simply forced a smile and nodded, to which he smiled back and went on his way, leaving her alone with her thoughts and many unanswered questions.

Sighing, she went inside her tent and sat down, taking her head into her hands. So many things were going through her mind it was making her head hurt thinking about it. If Gawain called the Northmen mercenaries, does that mean he is not one? What is he to the old man then? Was the gryphon also not a mercenary then? What was this excavation for and where they really willing to risk her life for it? Maybe Tiberius would change his mind?

She groaned and lay down on her back, trying to shut her mind up. She would not get any of these answers now. All she could do was wait once again, and hope that they make the right choice.