King of Kings [Blistered Blood and Ashleebabe]

Throughout the known land, there have been stories told about what might have happened to the king. Some said he had long since passed away due to the plague. Others said he died in the war. Some even said that he simply vanished into thin air and never came back. This would spark stories of suicide. Detractors said that this was absolutely preposterous, claiming that this was none other than simple fairytelling and should be avoided at all costs. Regardless of which, something did happen to him. What precisely, was unknown to the general populace.

On one evening, a man was seen traversing through the forest, clad in somewhat regal clothing, giving him the outward appearance of either a knight or squire. However, a majority of his face was concealed by a hooded cloak. What was visible was a few strands of raven colored hair that fell over one of those somewhat unnaturally pale shades of blue, looking something similar to frost. For now, he was walking in silence going over something in his head. That was until he heard a female scream bloody murder. Sharp ears told him that the sound came from somewhere closeby. Speedily, the hooded man charged after the sound, a hand reaching over his shoulder where a hidden broadsword was begging to be drawn and shed blood.

Marguerite stirred and found that there was a man there. She stood and found a branch and brandished it like a sword. She swung at the nearest wolf and kept swinging for a moment. She was shaking with adrenaline and she hardly noticed the man who was near her. She began to cry even in rage.

She noticed the man after the wolves had disappeared and she dropped her makeshift sword. "Help me?" She asked as her knees buckled beneath her weight. She closed her eyes in defeat and exhaustion. Marguerite was in pain and could not help but to pass out again.

The man would dash alongside the fair-skinned maiden, placing himself in between her and the predatory mongrels who would dare to even inflict the smallest of scratchs upon her form. His pale irises seemed to blaze over with an ungodly fury, seething at these wolves. They would only snarl back at him, furious that someone had gotten in the way of what was rightfully their kill.

In the matter of mere seconds, one of those beasts lunged at the regal-dressed man, looking to take him down and tear him limb from limb. In response to this attack, the man would then suddenly bring his broadsword into view, cleanly splitting the attacking wolf straight down the middle. The end result would see the wolf fly right past him and the maiden, spraying blood all around then landed on both halves of its cleaved head. Upon sighting this, the other wolves went frantic before suddenly turning tail and running away from the pair.

With this small task completed, the man would then glance down to the maiden with a look of concern on his face. "Are you alright, madam?" He asked, his voice matching the look as he knelt down to her.

Marguerite looked up at the man and sighed. "I cannot staunch the bleeding. I am terrified and where did you come from?" She asked as she tried to stand once more and found it highly difficult to do. "I am not able to stand and I want to go home." She said nearly wretching at the sight of the mangled corpse of the wolf beside her.

"I do not believe any of this matters right now, fair maiden. We must attend to those injuries of yours, unless you wish to bleed out in such a place as this." The man answered, holding the same amount of concern in his face and tone as he would then kneel down closely to the woman then scooped her up into his strong arms and stood back up, heading in another direction entirely than where she wanted to go.

"Just rest, my dear. We shall be there soon enough." The man answered again until he watched her lapse into unconciousness within the comfort of his arms and chest, cradling her like a newborn babe.

As he continued walking with this rather vuluptous maiden in tow, he would come upon a a sight that was rather familiar to him, this being a castle that was seen in the distance. Upon his arrvial near the castle gates, someone from the parapets shouted, "The king has arrived! Raise the gate!"

Within moments, clanking of chains and the slight squealing of metal could be heard as the heavy iron gates slowly lifted, allowing the hooded male back inside the castle walls. Within moments, he was met by servants of varying degrees, each one clamoring as to who this vultuptous beauty might have been. Several others expressed concern, noting that wound which was bleeding profusely. Another few ran to fetch certain supplies for the wound, wanting to be able to care for the woman, but the man simply gave an order that he would be the one to take care of all of these matters and explained to them to get back to their former jobs.

Marguerite woke to the pain of stitches. Not the initial stitching but the remenants of the actions were still there. She opened her eyes to see a grand and luxurious furnishing around her. She looked over and attempted to sit up and then stand. That was unbelieveable painful. She grimanced and sat on the edge of the bed. "My goodness." She gritted her teeth but finally noticed there was another in the room. "Can you help me get to my home without telling your master. I have several things I need to at my home."

"Then I suppose I should myself that, then." The man answered, having since removed his hood to fully expose the man's face. Long, raven-colored hair fell down his back, stopping shy at his waistline. Some of this hair had fallen in front of his face only to be pushed to the side with a motion of his hand to further expose an unnatural shade of glacier-blue irises, seeming to haunt or entice those that were privledged to look upon his strong, masculine face. The rest of his features were equally as impressive as his face, showcasing a tall, strong body that was still wrapped in that regal clothing from before. "As for where you are and/or who am I, you are in my kingdom. I am Damien McCallister, king of this castle and of this land." He added simply, bowing respectfully.

"As for you, my dear maiden, might I inquire as to where you originated and your name as well?" Damien then asked

I watched him as he introduced himself and I was unsure how to react. He saved me from the monsters but the king of the hidden castle was said to be one hisself. I rubbbed my head as the pounding returned and my sides were aching in pain. "Lord McCallister, I thank you for all of your help. My name is Marguerite, Marguerite DeLancre. I would like to however know how I arrived here and why I feel to horrid." I scarcely remember being in the woods except for when I was reading. Was I kidnapped by vandals or was it something else. My mind must have been protecting me from something subconsciously.

Damien arched an eyebrow at her, but a smirk soon followed. "Well Madam DeLancre, you were attacked, but not by vandals or any other hooligans. You were attacked by a pack of vicious dogs. Dogs that - unfortunately - had to be put down." He responded. "Furthermore, I carried you here by myself and even went so far as to have your wounds tended as well." He added, stepping closer to her.

"I would strongly suggest that you rest for now. It's not going to do you any favors if you're up and moving about in your current condition." Damien concluded, shaking his head.

"Are you planning on keeping me here?" I asked this time, no more than a gentle whisper. He said he saved me and yet I could not fathom the event. It was hard for me to comprehend it. I gasped as he took a step closer to me and suggested that I should be in bed resting. "Do you know the room is?" I asked genuinely lost.

"For a little while, just to let you rest is all I ask." Damien answered, offering a small smile as he spoke while shaking his head. "Besides, the last thing I wished to intervene with is getting you back to your original domicile." He added, his tone still sounding civil. It was hard to believe that just mere moments ago that he was the one that had dispatched one of those mongrels like an executioner, but he did it in the defense of someone who was in dire need of assistance. If he had not have been there, there would have been no telling as to what those wolves might have done to her.

"As for the room you are occupying Madam DeLancre, it is my private quarters. You can use it to your every whim as well as my servants who will also obey to your wishes as well as my own." Damien concluded, waving a hand to the expanse of the room.

"I hate to be a burden to you. I had hope I would not inconvience you since I am taking your bed." I laid myself back on the bed and exhaled a weary breath. I knew I was in for some sort of ride but I was not aware of what kind of ride. "Do you think I may sleep in something less constricting?" I referred to her bandaging but they needed to stay on. "One more thing, do you have anything for the pain." I rested my back and my head against the soft plush pillows.

"I would not dream of you being a burden, m'lady." Damien answered with a bow. "And furthermore, since you called for something less restricting, I can arrange something for you." He added, nodding with a civil smile. "If you would like, I can have a loose fitting nightgown brought up to you in a mere moment or so." He concluded, nodding again.

I looked at his twist of words strangely. I knew he wanted to impress me but I finally noticed I was bandaged tightly and not bound in a dreaded corset. I felt like a complete moron but I did not speak the words. "No I will be fine in this shirt. The bandages were the tightness I was feeling." I added as I adjusted myself once more.

"Are you certain, madam? I would've at least had something nice brought your way, like a gown that would fit you accordingly." Damien answered, arching an eyebrow at her with a look of concern on his face as he watched her shift about.

"But I can understand your position on such matters." He added, nodding in an understanding manner. "That being said, you should probably rest for the time being. It will do you no good if you keep moving around like you are." He concluded, sounding much like a parent with the way his tone sounded.

I smirked a litt but let his words sink into my mind. "I think I nice rest would be best. I think I should drift off now." I added meekly and yawned. My breathing evened and I was off into a light sleep in no time. I was in a little pain but I did not want to think any more about it

Once she was asleep, Damien simply stood over Marguerite, watching her with eyes like that of a hawk. He would then slowly come closer to her sleeping form then sat by her side, gazing at her rather flawless form, just pondering and wondering as to where this beautiful angel was sent from. It was almost as if she was sent by God himself, whoever it might be.

Gently and without waking her, Damien slowly reached a hand out to her and rested the palm of his hand on hers carefully, being mindful to not disturb this delightful maiden from her restful sleep. He continued gazing at her for about several minutes before slowly standing up from the bed and walking out of the bedroom in revered silence.

I thought I was dreaming when I felt a hand in mine. I muttered weakly but did not say much to him. I stirred after the warmth had left and did not wake until much later in the day. I yawned and moved very carefully as I opened my eyes and asessed the room. I was still in the master suite and in the bed of the king of the manor. I looked about and still saw no other options for clothing. I moved out of the bed and winced. The pain was still intense.

During the night and much into the early morning, Damien had disappeared like a shadow in the night. However, no one ever dared to question where it was he went. Not even the townsfolk, it would seem. Business went about as usual, ranging from people hawking their wares, deals being made, and other things that was considered good business in this kingdom.

As he returned to the castle walls, the bridge was lowered for Damien, allowing him entry back into the castle. He carried a small bundle of some sort over his shoulder with a small smile on his face as he came back inside the manor and up to his room after receiving greetings from his servants to which he Damien only returned a nod to each and every one of them. Upon entering the bedroom, Damien spotted that Marguerite had eventually moved from the bed, despite it was with some difficulty.

"I see that your injuries have not completely healed yet, m'lady." He commented, arching an eyebrow at her. "However, I do feel it is high time that you are cleaned up. Besides, I come bearing you a gift." He added, unpacking the bundle and showing her a well-made gown that gleamed like golden satin yet was soft as cotton from a sheep.

I smiled as I saw my rescuer enter the room. I knew I was more than happy with him. I was going to be taking a bath and changing out of the shirt that was provided. I smiled yet again to my host when I saw a slew of maids bussle in and draw a bath while pushing the man out of the room. I sighed in the bath as all of the dried blood and grime was rinsed and scrubbed off of my body. I was re-bandaged and dressed in the lovely gown. The dress felt like heaven on me. I had my curls pinned out of my face and was helped back into bed. I was tired from the ordeal as my host re-entered the room.

Damien had already ventured out of the room long after the maids began to push him out. As he waited, Damien went down to the library of the large manor, catching up on a little bit of reading. He could be seen fliping through the pages of one particular book that seemed to have held his interest in some time. Several minutes seemed to have flown by so quickly before he finally placed the book back down on the table and bookmarked it on one page before sauntering out of the library and back towards the bedroom when Marguerite came back from her bath, looking absolutely nothing like she looked when she was attacked by those wolves just a few nights ago.

"Gods above and below, Madam!" Damien announced when she walked in. "You'd make Satan himself cry and the angels envy you!" He added, dumbfounded at her radiant beauty.

I looked up as he entered the room. He looked at me as if I was an angel in his bed. I blushed at his comments but did not make an effort to move. "I would love to greet you but bathing and dressing took a lot of strength out of me. I hope you slept well." I spoke so gently, it must have appealed to his image. I wanted to go back asleep and my eyes closed brifly.