Fie Wrights P. O. V

The feeling of the sharp blade mixed with the man's threatening words has me tensing up directly in my place. I raise my hands up to show the man I mean no harm but I'm assuming my wide eyes running backwards and forwards between my pack members shows enough to know that I'm freaking out and that retaliation is the last thing on my mind.

The warriors tense up immediately while Ezra's eyes widen and he takes a step forward but Marcus grabs his son by the shoulders and stops him in his place. Taking a deep gulp, I lock eyes with the advisor who nods his head slowly but before he can say anything himself, someone else beats him to it.

"Easy there man. We're not here to cause any trouble." One of the warriors finally speak as they raise a hand in front of them, trying to coax my attacker into getting their guard down. "My name's Brutus. What's yours?" The warriors finally speaks as the other one darts his eyes around us, probably trying to figure out if there's anyone here to threaten us further.

"Why the fuck are you asking me my name for?" The man shouts as I wince, his mouth right next to my ear but I can't even move for fear of my throat getting sliced open and bleeding to death.

Brutus shifts slightly in place, his stance tense as he eyes me wearily.

Fie. Don't do anything stupid. Just stay still. Brutus' voice rings clear in my head and if it wasn't for being in such a serious yet precarious situation, I would've scoffed at the man's audacity. Does he expect me to perform the Irish jig right here?

Marcus clears his throat as his friendly smile slips back into place, his tone was and welcoming and I'm surprised he manages to do so. I guess part of the training to be an advisor and council to a pack involves spewing out a load of bullshit that ties only into place with niceties. That's something I haven't quite learned nor mastered just yet.

"We are only here to seek an audience with the King, young man. It is a matter of life and death. Much like this situation we're wrapped up in here." Marcus says with that same nonchalant albeit friendly tone.

Did this man just fucking make a joke about a knife at my throat?

I tense up immediately, my lungs ceasing breathing as the man stills besides me. His grip on the knife tightens as I can see his knuckles going white and I close my eyes, waiting for that searing pain of a sharp object ripping my joined flesh together to create a gaping bloody filled mess. Instead, I feel myself being shoved forward and into Brutus' arms who pushes me behind him almost instantaneously as my attacker laughs joyously.

"You want to seek an audience with the King? Well why didn't you say so?" He laughs with further mirth as I peer over Brutus' shoulder to catch a glimpse of my assailant. The podgy man in front of me with a red face and balding head didn't seem all to threatening but the gleaming knife in his hand throws all that off completely. The man garbed in one of the cleaner sides of clothing I've seen people to be wearing here as he sheathes his knife, well more like dagger before taking another step back. A stupid blinding smile still on his face.

"Sorry about all that kerfuffle little girl. We just seem to be having a lot of death threats against the King and well, I might not be all that but I'm bloody loyal to the Crown I tell ya." The man's face seems to grow redder with the thought of anything happening to his precious King. His pale blue eyes meet mine as he apologises some more to me. All eyes dart to me as I rub my neck in a nervous manner before clearing my throat.

"Um yeah. Don't worry about it?" My own words come off as a question while Marcus merely smiles at me, putting an arm around my shoulder in a fatherly manner.

"I'm Ron by the way." The man inputs as he motions to himself, hands on his hips and looking quite proud of himself.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Ron," Not really but okay, "My name is Marcus. Over here we have my son Ezra. Then these two are Brutus and Miller. This lovely lady that you were threatening a few seconds ago is Fie." We all nod in greeting to him, me with a rather fierce glower which he doesn't seem to mind much as he shakes hand with everyone in turn.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all. If you're willing, I can help take you up to the Old City and over to the castle myself. I need to give the minister my weekly reports anyway's. I'm sure I can get you to meet the King quicker than if you go barrelling in their yourself. Thing of it as an apology for, well you know." He says as he waves a hand in my direction without much of a care.

It's nice to know I'm getting taken care of around here.

"Castle?" I hear Ezra whisper in awe once we finally start getting a move on down the road, Marcus and Ron chatting up a storm in front of us while I swivel my eyes to Ezra who trudges dutifully besides me.

"We're going to see a King. Where do you think the King lives?" My voice is completely laced with sarcasm but the boy seems to be missing a few brain cells as he ponders over my words for a while before nodding his head.

"You have a point."

"Hey." Ezra whispers to me again just as we pass by a wooden signboard stating that we only have a few more kilometres to go before we reach the Old City as they like to call it.

"What?" I ask as I stare dismally at the same stretch of road in front of me; the forests now long gone with only pastures of fields with cows bordering the sides of us.

"Do you think that Ron person is a human?" This immediately captures my attention as my eyes seek out the person in front of us. My nose scrunches up as I take in the man properly.

"He looks sort of normal." I mutter to Ezra who nods besides me.

"I was expecting, weirder." He mumbles as I nod in agreement. The whole human thing completely throwing me off.

"You guys are lucky. It never stops raining here but the God's must be smiling down on you. It does look like a downpour is coming in soon though." Just as Ron says that, a booming crashing sound resounds all around us as the very ground shakes with the enormity. Not too long later, the thunder follows as the skies start to turn a darker grey, clouds rolling in with the breeze picking up speed and swirling my hair all around me in a dance only known to them.

"Spoke too soon, I did." Ron laughs nervously as he picks up speed, the rest of us following after him just as quick so that we can evade the on coming downpour. The heavens don't seem to be reacting too kindly to our presence as there isn't even much of a warning for a light spittle of rain as the floodgates are released and a speedy torrent of rain befalls us without much of care to our drenching selves.

The city as they would call it doesn't seem to be coming into view as fast as I would like and only when we pass fields after fields of small huts and houses with farmers loitering about do I see the architectural theme of our destination peaking above all else.

High looming turrets with a flag waving on the tops as wolves dart backwards and forwards on the high positions, scattered with other men standing erect and poised, watching everyone and everything with keen shrewd eyes. The gates to the city themselves are made of a white almost haggard glistening stone as two huge wrought gate bars our way, guards standing at attention but paying us no heed as we step into the walled city. My eyes dart this way and that at the people flitting about, running to escape from the pounding rain as mud filled puddles sloshed with sounds of stomping footsteps.

Part of me imagined something out of an olden days show like Merlin with a market place that had stalls pitched up and low thatched houses that would not bode well against the constant downpour of rain. Instead, I'm met with cobbled streets that cause an imbalance against my shoes but not in an uncomfortable way. Gothic architecture is all around us with stained glass windows reflecting colours and murals of different scenes, flying buttresses with equally ornate decorations. The almost morbid dark beauty taking my breath away as I catch sight of the high turrets jutting out of the ground and towering high into the sky. The castle was something of a different grandeur splendour too difficult to put into words.

"Not too far now." Ron announces as Ezra huddles closer to me and the warriors, seeking some sort of warmth due to the drastic change in temperature. None of us say anything further as we fasten our paces even more, trying to keep a casual stance till we reach the inner folds of the castle itself.

Our group gets a few lingering eyes as people take in our clothes and haggard appearances but it's mostly due to nosy people as others don't seem to be too bothered. I'm assuming they either are a nonchalant bunch or the folks residing in these parts have seen a more unusual group than what we consist of. I'm assuming the later considering the fact humans are walking around here.

Ron appears to be quiet well known amongst the city's people as he greets nearly everyone that passes by in front of us. His charming smile poised to perfection as he shakes hands with various people, all while not slowing in his pace even a fraction of a bit. The guards don't seem to mind for our intrusion as they nod at Ron, briefly eyeing the rest of us but obviously thinking we aren't worth any lurking threat as they step to the sides and let us to an inner tunnel that obscures all from view but nonetheless lead us into the inner workings of the royal's house.

Everything is dark and obscured until we reach a side room, stacked to the brim with weapons of all sorts as large wooden tables are occupied by guards lounging about. Some eating, some sleeping and some even doing a mixture of the two. The rather sterner looking guards eye us precariously but the sight of Ron causes them to settle down and turn back to their previous tasks as he leads us to the opposite wall and over into another tunnel.

I barely repress my sigh as everything seems to be the same. Everything too dark to make out except for the jutted rock walls surrounding us on all sides.

"This tunnel over here opens up into the King's very own throne room so you all better be on your best behaviour. I heard just before you lot showed up that he's back from his latest excursion." Ron announces, the human's voice floats up all around us as his voice echoes for a few seconds.

Marcus steps up closer to the man and tries to whisper but it's all for naught as even his voice travels up all around us, "The King will be willing to entertain us will he not?"

Everyone awaits eagerly for his response and just as Ron goes to open his mouth, my step falters as my stomach twists weirdly within me. My mouth parts open as a feeing of butterflies attack me and my breath almost shortens without even me exerting myself. Clenching my hands into fists, I furrow my brows as something starts to pound in the back of my head, almost like a severe migraine but instead of a sharp pain it's something else. Something too weird to figure out.

I jump as someone's hand clasps onto my shoulders. Turning my head to the side, Ezra's face comes into view full of worry and apprehension. He throws the rest of the group a look before shaking his head.

Is everything alright? Even his voice in my head sounds worried as I try to force a smile but I'm sure it comes out strained and won't deceive the boy for a second.

Why do you ask?

My nonchalant tone doesn't seem to waiver him as he steps up besides me, peering into my eyes as the sensation in my head grows tenfold.

I can sense your wolf calling out.

That causes me to momentarily pause and I nearly falter but regain my rhythmic movement once again.

To you?

Ezra shakes his head and I notice we've come to a stop, a huge thick wooden door the only source separating us from the objective we've set out to do.

Not to me. But it's definitely calling out. To something.

We both frown at his words but Ron turning around causes my attention to divert elsewhere and onto more important matters. We have a Luna to save. Mere nerves at meeting royalty doesn't have a place at a time like this.

Ron turns towards us, hand rubbing up to the nape of his neck as he throws us all a sheepish looking smile, "I know you've traveled far but I'm going to be honest just to save you from disappointment. The King doesn't usually entertain guests, of any kind, and he usually leaves matters like this to his own council. I heard you need help of mages and well, they're stuck up. You'll have to really impress them to get them to help. But don't you worry, I'll help as best I can."

The pit in my stomach deepens as my fists clench together, Ezra besides me sighs out loud and mutters under his breath. I can feel the tension building up within all of us as even Marcus' blinding smile slips, his face turning serious as both the warriors besides up stiffen up even more so.

With a tightly controlled stoic expression, Ron enters into the room while I only catch a brief glimpse of dark marble looking floors. We wait for what feels like ages, half an hour ticking by but it feeling like hours we don't have. Hours we can't waste by simply idly waiting about for some council to get their shit together. My wolf gets increasingly antsy with each passing second and I can't seem to sit still as I start fidgeting as well. I feel like I'm about to burst out of my skin and jump face first into my wolf.

Luckily Ron reappears in front of the door before my wolf goes out of control any further.

"The King's just arrived from his trip. Later than expected but you guys can go ahead. I'm not going to give you lot any false hope but good luck." Ron's smile slips back into place as he opens the door wider for us.

My mouth dries and my breath catches in my throat as soon as I get a glimpse of the huge hall. Pristine marble statues and huge towering columns lining everywhere with dark marble flooring creating a stark contrast against the white decorations. I barely get a chance to enjoy the grandeur as my eyes narrow while we walk further ahead, Marcus leading us like always. My heart starts clamouring in my chest as I catch sight of various people scattered here and there, each one looking more important than the next as they stand there, each wearing outfits putting the one next to them to shame as they increase frivolously. However, right at the end but in the middle sits the most important person of all.

A cloaked figure casually draped across a high backed throne causes my eyes to widen as my tightly constrained self snaps for a mere moment. The presence and aura of the King nearly makes my knees buckle and just his sheer authority causing all of us to kneel as soon as we reach a respectful distance. The cloak conceals every aspect of his face but the outline of his figure is prominent as the loose cloak still sticks to his shoulders and arms showing nothing but sheer muscle and a tall figure. Strong broad shoulders lead down to even stronger arms as his long fingers lay clasped upon the sides of the throne. His body stance remaining erect yet a flare of causality lacing around him as if sitting on a throne is nothing more than a simplicity as one takes to breathing.

No one from our group dares speaks up except for Ron who, surprisingly, seems a little shaken up as his voice trembles slightly before regaining his calm composed tone, "My King. I have come to convey my weekly reports about the on goings of the Realm but before I get into that detail, I would like to introduce you to these travels from the other realm and if you are willing, they would like to seek an audience with you."

Silence.

My breathing starts to pick up and not even Ezra dares to say anything as we all stand absolutely still. None of us even attempting to move a muscle in fear of having to face repercussions. I've not heard much about this King, I don't think any one has. People say he's not overbearingly kind nor cruel. The only thing people do know about him is that he rules over the realm with an iron fist.

I just hope this iron fist isn't taking me to my deathbed.

"What is the matter at hand for you to be seeking an audience?" Another voice speaks up, old and worn but filled with a wiseness that only a certain amount of people can wish to achieve. I just about manage to raise my head and take note of a hunched over man standing right besides the King, a book in one hand and pen in the other.

Marcus doesn't seem to miss a beat as he speaks up, his own voice travelling to everyone in the large vast hall.

"We have travelled all the way from the Fenrir Pack. Our Luna has taken ill and there seems to be no cure or remedy available for her treatment. We have come to ask if we could acquire help of any instance. Our pack is nearly doomed for." Marcus doesn't mention the mage and I'm sure he has good reason for it but I can't stop the worse of the situation playing around in my head.

Getting sent back home empty handed only to watch our effort go down the drain as our Luna slips further and further from reach.

The man who spoke before turns his head towards the hidden King and tilts his head almost as if he's listening to something. With a nod, he scribbles something down and I'm certain the King is mind linking the man. My nerves swell up once again and I nearly collapse then and there as the man turns his attention to me.

"What sort of help do you think you require?"

My eyes shift to Marcus and the rest of the group and only then do I realise the man isn't only looking at me, he wants me to speak.

Almost immediately my hands start to sweat as my stomach twists and knots up. My mouth turns dry and my tongue feels heavy in my throat. Taking a few deep breaths, I give myself a mental shake as I try to calm myself down.

"We require the assistance of one of your mages." My voice doesn't travel as strongly as Marcus' but it doesn't waver and comes out smoother than I was expecting. My confidence slightly wavers as a few scoffs resound across the hall and whispers start to erupt as people mutter here and there after my words.

The concealed King perched on his throne levels his gaze as he suddenly leaned forward, his stance more attentive as he finally speaks up with a heavy yet smooth voice. The mere baritone sending delightful shivers up my spine as the royal directs his attention to me. I freeze up instantaneously as that same antsy feeling courses through me.

"I will help you but I want something in return." Comes his clear daunting voice as the rest of the court remains silent. The once ceaseless whispering cutting off within a split second as people stare wide eyed, no one daring to speak up until they are spoken to.

Steeling my spine, I try to compress that weird sensation taking over my body, my eyes focus on what I assume to be his chest as my kneeled figure speaks up, "What would that be my King?"

Silence reigns for a few seconds before the alluring voice speaks up, ripping me of my composure in mere seconds.

"You."

———————-

AN: Here comes the King. More of him to be introduced in the next chapter of course! Hope you liked this one.

Question: How many languages do you know?

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