My Mind & I

[Aspen Wynfrid]

If it hadn’t have been for the sounds of various nocturnal creatures, she may have never known night from day. There was a silence in the cabin that was unbroken - strong, as the air inside the structure seemed to change with each passing moment the lone Wolf was held prisoner inside. It felt empty, even with her presence filling the space where she was chained.

The first day, she’d blown the candles out after Lorcan and Jayna had departed, leaving herself to sit in darkness. She hadn’t slept that night, only sat in a single spot, holding her face in her hands as she tried to think of something, anything that might give her the faintest glimpse of hope. Even the Dragon’s words were no longer enough to give her hope. Each and every time she tried to think back to their encounter, searching for anything she could use to garner more of his favor, her mind simply went back to Jayna and the look on her face. Aspen felt ashamed, but there was nothing she could do about what had happened to the Moreling. Still, the thought did little to bring her comfort. If anything, it only made her feel worse.

The second day, she’d paced the room, stretching her joints that ached from sitting cross-legged for hours on end the previous night. The fire had gone out early in the day and there wasn’t any firewood left to keep it burning. It didn’t much matter though, as the well-built structure allowed for little cold air to enter. She finally managed to sleep that second night, making herself at home on the floor. She didn’t feel right taking up space in the bed that she was shackled near. Something about the entire cabin felt off to her - it made her uneasy. She dared not touch anything that didn’t belong to her.

By day three, Lorcan had returned, though neither of them seemed to keen to speak. He’d made sure she had the basic necessities, rebuilt the fire, and promptly left, leaving Aspen alone again. She hadn’t even looked his direction when he’d entered, simply sat in the middle of the room, facing the wall where the bed sat, eyes dry from staring for so long. When he’d left, she’d allowed herself to breathe, gasping against the angry sobs that welled within her.

Day four had been one of the worst days of them all. She screamed her anger into the empty space, pacing rapidly - like a caged animal. Her hands pressed hard into her temples as she willed herself to keep control, though it was no use. In the night, when she was sure no one was coming back to the cabin, she’d viciously yanked at her shackle until her hands bled with the force, leaving droplets of blood on the floor and the chain. Her nails had nearly been torn off, the only indication as to how were the signs of blood around the screws boring the metal into the floor where she’d attempted to undo them with her fingertips. She’d managed to smear blood across her face when wiping away sweat with a shaky hand, not really aware of the damage she’d caused herself. Her ankle had swollen, a large bruise forming around it in its entirety from the metal cuff banging against her skin with each useless tug, but at the end of the day, she’d flopped onto her back, defeated.

Day five had been only slightly better. Jayna had come this time and Aspen’s face had lit up at the sight of her, only to twist into a hardened glare at the man that accompanied her. She didn’t know this one, but he never went far. He’d clearly been appointed by Lorcan with special instructions. At one point, he’d gotten to close to Aspen, and she’d nearly gouged his eyes out. She would have, too, had it not been for him stepping just out of the reach the shackle allowed. Despite her aggressive behavior, he’d allowed Jayna to tend to her wounds and clean her face of the blood, Aspen sitting calmly only for the Moreling woman. The urge to reach out and hug her had been strong, but she’d known better. As they said their goodbyes, Aspen slipped into her sadness. Again, she hadn’t slept, only sobbed into the night - something she hadn’t allowed herself to do since the first day as a prisoner. She feared for her clan, having no way of knowing if anything had happened to them or Khan. No one way of knowing if she’d ever see them again. Still, she couldn’t help but imagine what Jayna must have felt every single day for the last three years and decided that since there was someone - anyone - who had seen much darker days, she did not deserve to shed a single tear. She didn’t deserve to feel sadness or anger - only emptiness.

On day six, she was left alone again. Or.. was it day seven? Truthfully, she’d lost count after the first three days. The silence had begun to get to her, rattling her at her core. In the night, she’d again screamed her anger - a deep sound that sounded more demonic than human as it reverberated off the wood of the cabin. She’d punched the floor - how many times, she couldn’t say - but her knuckles had bled from the strikes, leaving a patch of blood to dry on the floor. It trickled around her fingers and into her palms that were still raw from attempting to pull the chain from its place time and time again, every day, always without success. For the second night in a row, sleep would not come to give her peace. This night, she’d taken to destroying anything within reach of her. The bed and its frame had been thrown, landing on the chain that bound her and giving her even less room to move. The supplies she’d been gifted were strewn across the space, smears on the walls from where some of it had been thrown. She cursed herself for coming here, for allowing herself to get caught - for putting the lives of so many in danger. Perhaps the Dragon was right, perhaps she really was a stupid woman.

As birds began to chirp, calling dawn with their songs, sleep had finally come and she lay curled into a ball on the hard floor, her body still sore from so many nights resigned to the hardwood. Her back was against the mattress that sat at an angle, threatening to tip over onto the top of her should she move too quickly against it. She was quickly beginning to feel like she’d go insane, trapped inside the windowless space day in and day out. What she would give for even a single moment outside in the cold, the sun shining down on her.

Day seven.

tagged: Lorcan Drach

[Lorcan Drach]

If Lorcan learned anything from his father it was how to torture a person. Dwindle them down to where they were broken. Tearing them down so you could rebuild them how you wanted. You didn’t even have to touch them. It was all a mind game, and Lorcan was a very patient man. After all, hadn’t the same thing happened to him? Didn’t Kaige do it to all his children at some point? Thoughts of Jannik drifted into Lorcan’s mind as he rode to the cabin. Remembering his baby brother and the fire he had him, but no one would see it. Everyone but Lorcan, and his brothers. The boy had refused to be broken. No matter how often, nor how hard Kaige hit him, he stood up and looked at him definitely. Even in his last hours, Jannik had quite literally spat in their father's face. Earning him scales whether he wanted them or not. Jannik was a dragon. Bitterness, and resentment, as well as anger quickly followed suit as they always did when he thought of Jannik. He was disgusted with himself for even wondering how he was doing now. Was he alive? Lorcan hoped so, so he could put his own ax in his betrayer brothers back.

Seven days he’d had the Wynfrid woman held captive. He’d made sure to deprive her of as much social interaction as he could. Not speaking to her, let alone look at her while he was at the cabin. Turke had the same orders for Jayna. Don’t speak to her, but he had the inkling Jayna did anyway. Still, she’d been there for seven days. And seven days in a cabin was enough to make a sane person crazy. Was it cruel? Maybe. But it would get him what he wanted. He was sure of it.

The cabin came into sight and Lorcan dismounted the horse before he unlocked the door and came in. Hanging up his cloak, he walked down the hall and stopped. Looking at the destruction of the room. He did a sharp intake of breath. This was Maja’s home. Her place. Her safe place. And now? He clenched his hands at his sides at the anger that filled him. No. This was good. She was ready. He quickly told himself. This can be cleaned up. Breathe. He told himself.

He didn’t say anything as he entered the room and set about his task. He didn’t say anything, just cleaned up the walls, the mess of supplies. He’d gotten a bucket of snow and set to making a fire so he could use the water to clean the walls. He walked over to the mattress that threatened to fall on and pushed it away. He had to work around her, but eventually, he got the bed and mattress back where it belonged. He tossed the bedding back on top of it. He didn’t know how long it took him, but once the place was in a somewhat decent order he went to the manacle around her ankle.

He could really see the state she was in now, and Lorcan growled lowly in his chest. His blue eyes flicking over her. He didn’t like it, but it was a necessary evil. He pulled a key he kept on a beaded necklace around his neck out from under his shirt and unlocked the manacle before he pulled it apart. Seeing the state of her ankle he tisked. He manacled her other ankle then, he wasn’t stupid enough to just leave her unchained. He moved to the loft, climbing the latter, and once he was at the top he dug around in the crates until he found what he wanted. With one arm full he climbed back down and then brought over the bucket of warm water. He then walked outside and got a bowl of snow, before he came back in.

He sat criss-cross on the floor then near her injured ankle and put the salve he’d brought down and the roll of bandages with it, in a neat pile on the floor. His eyes flickered to her then as he dipped a washrag into the bucket. He rinsed the warm water from it. He watched her movements carefully, but his intent would be clear. He was going to see to her self inflicted injuries. He took another washrag and wrapped the cold snow in it before he placed it on her ankle to try and take the swelling down.

[Aspen Wynfrid]

In her dream, she was sprinting through the forest, navigating the brush and trees as if a detailed map lay within her mind. Her heart pumped in her chest, breath heaving with each quick step. There was nothing she was running from, it was what she ran towards. A grey blur in the distance, always just beyond clear sight. Large and quicker than she, the faster she ran, the further away it became. “Khan!” She tried to call, but no sound escaped her. Panic began to set in as she pushed forward, forcing herself faster still until she reached a cliff, the grey blur now clear as day before her eyes. It wasn’t Khan, that much was certain from the striking blue eyes set inside beasts head, but it was indeed a wolf. He was massive, even making Khan look small by comparison. Aspen’s breath came in shallow gasps as she looked at the animal who only stared back. Why did those stormy blue eyes look so familiar? As her hand reached towards it, it began to growl, a deep sound that rumbled in its chest. She withdrew, not wishing to anger the wolf. Crouching, the wolf’s eyes followed her, a grin appearing over its maw. “You don’t deserve to call yourself a wolf!” It hissed at her.

The sound of the cabin door closing jolted her awake, her blue eyes opening wide at the sound though she was far too exhausted to move. As heavy footsteps made their way into the room where she was kept, she closed her eyes again. Those footfalls were nearly as familiar as the wolf’s eyes in her dream and she did not wish to be social with her captor. She’d prefer it if she never saw him again, truth be told. ‘Maybe if circumstances were different..’ She thought involuntarily, nearly growling at herself as it crossed her mind, not able to stop the furrowing of her brow. What the hell was wrong with her? Was she really so delusional? She couldn’t be. She was level-headed and rational.. Or at least, she had been before encountering that Dragon.

She could make out the sounds of him moving about the cabin and she opened her eyes a fraction of the way to peek. He was cleaning her mess and she almost sat up as curiosity got the better of her, but the exhaustion was still there, holding her close in its tight embrace. So instead, she did not move, did not open her eyes - not even when he’d taken to putting the bed back into its place. When he unshackled her, a small glint of hope began to ignite, only to be snuffed out as it was clasped around her left ankle instead. She suppressed a sigh, opening her eyes long enough to watch him climb into the loft and closing them before his descent.

She could hear him sink to the floor close to her, make out the sound of water splashing softly, but she dared not open her eyes, not when he was so close. But as something cold touched her injured ankle, she sat up quickly, slapping away his hand with a surprising amount of strength. Pale blue eyes - rounded with dark circles beneath them - glared at him as she moved to crouch in front of him as if readying herself to attack if need be, the movement quick and smooth. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She hissed, wincing against the pain that shot through her body. Her legs shook beneath her weight, a clear indication of just how weak a state she was in. Even so, he hadn’t taken all the fight from her. Not yet.

[Lorcan Drach]

Lorcan staid put when she sat up and moved away from him. So she still had some fight in her. He thought. He didn’t move, he just stared at her with a blank expression. He noted even more how shitty she looked, and he reminded himself this was her doing, not his. He wouldn’t be blamed for her self inflicted wounds. He could see her fingernails and see they were covered in dried blood from the ruined nails of her most likely trying to yank n the chain.

He almost chuckled at her question. What was he doing? Trying to be nice? Not wanting her to think he was a complete savage like she had made him out to be? He didn’t know, but he was supposed to do the torturing, not her. He held up the wrapped snow, and gestured with his other hand at the small pile of supplies he had. “Cleaning up a mess.” He said. His voice deadpan. She was a mess, the room had been a mess. He was a man who didn't like messes. There was nothing wrong with that right? And she was a giant one in fact, and he could bet her legs would give out on her eventually and she’d fall on her ass at some point. She was weak, exhausted and probably hungry. He reached forward and patted the floor in front of him. Giving her a look that read she could either come willingly, or he’d chase her around the whole damn room until he got her to sit still for him.

[Aspen Wynfrid]

She nearly scoffed at his words, rolling her eyes in her head. But she had to admit, it was a bit of a surprise when he did not lunge for her, nor did she see anger flash across his face. Instead, he simply patted the space in front of him, giving her a look that could only be described as something of a threat. For a brief moment, she remained where she was, taking her eyes off of him for a split second to glance at the supplies he'd earlier gestured towards and then at the snow wrapped in cloth. With a defeated sigh, she sat where she stood, though there was still reluctance to move closer to him. Then, tilting her head, she had a better idea.

She moved closer to him than he'd before come to her, twisting the leather shoe from her feet and pulling up the leg of her pants to her calf. Then, she lifted her foot, raising a brow at him as a soft smirk played across her lips and promptly let her foot fall limply onto his own calf, perhaps a bit too close to the family jewels. She'd struggled to keep a straight face as pain shot through her leg, but she managed. Leaning back on her palms, she wondered if she should apologize for making such a mess. He'd done quite well in cleaning it up and hadn't taken to making her do it. That had to count for something, right? 'Absolutely not.' She snapped at herself. It was his fault she was here. He'd had a choice in the forest and this was the choice he'd made, to hold her captive. His fault. She would have happily left the territory, never looking back. Would she have returned? Probably. But their encounter would have taught her to be much, much more careful. And to perhaps leave Khan behind next time. She certainly hadn't accounted for an unscheduled patrol to come through so close to their borders, but perhaps that's why she was always told to expect the unexpected.

As he tended to her swollen limb, uncharacteristically gentle with his large hands, she never took her eyes off of him and for the first time, really looked at him. He was muscular, much more tan than she despite the winter, with dark hair that was a striking contrast to her own. His brows were always set heavily over his eyes, as if he were constantly brooding deeply about something; and those eyes, those stormy blue..

Her entire body tensed noticeably and a look of realization mixed with horror crossed her face as the image of the wolf in her dream flashed into her mind. That's why its eyes were so familiar as they'd bore into her. Suddenly, the words it had snarled at her made sense. Of course the Dragon would not see her as the fighter she was, not in this state. Just as the wolf in her dream had implied, the Drach likely found her to be pathetic - undeserving to be called a Wolf. She shook her head to rid herself of such thoughts, pulling her shackled leg towards her, wrapping her arms around it before resting her chin atop her knee as she continued to stare at him, relaxing only slightly. She wondered what was with the sudden hospitality, but dared not speak it aloud. Instead, "Would it be too much to ask for the chance to bathe?" She asked in a voice that was eerily calm, as if this had always been her life - being shackled here - and this was just another day in her usual routine; as if this were normal. There was no hint of malice and no sly undertones, just a simple question. "I feel disgusting." She mumbled with another sigh. "You can watch if you want and it makes you feel better, but I really need a bath." She said, her voice nonchalant as she kept her chin on her knee, eyes watching him rather than his hands as they worked.

[Lorcan Drach]

Lorcan waited patiently, pleased that she decided to listen and that he wasn’t going to have to chase her around the cabin to get her to sit still. He waited while she removed her shoe and rolled her pants up. He arched an eyebrow at her as she plopped her foot down in his lap. Glancing down at how close she came from wacking him in the family jewels. Oh yeah. There was still some fight. He found it almost admirable that she was still willing to put a fight up given the week she’d been here.

He didn’t say anything, just placed a hand behind her heel and lifted it up as he placed the wrapped know on her ankle and then then rested it gently in his lap. He quietly went to work then, letting the snow take down some of the swelling while he opened up the yellow tincture jar. The stuff always made his nose wrinkle, even now as he splashed some of it onto his hands, he rubbed them together and then as gentle as as he could rubbed them over chafed skin on her ankle where the skin had been rubbed open. He then reached over for the warm water rag, and removed the wrapped snow. He could feel her tense suddenly, and he thought maybe he’d pressed to hard in one spot. “Sorry.” He mumbled under his breath. He took the wash rag and then gently cleaned her foot. Tossing it on the rim of the bucket he then picked up the pin salve and began to gently smear it over the wounds and the bruise.

Once that was done, he took the bandages and began to gently wrap her ankle. Remembering everything that Maja had taught him about injuries and wanting to wrap it tight, but not too tight you cut off circulation. At her question, his eyes flickered up to hers, before back down to her hands. She was watching him, he could feel her crystal blue eyes on him as he slowly took his time wrapping her foot. To let her bathe or to not let her bathe? That was the question. He'd calmed down from his initial anger at her over the week. He still thought her a stupid woman, but she was paying for it now. Lorcan hadn't even gotten to the interrogation parts yet, and already she was beating herself up. Still, there was something to be said about kindness. That was something Maja constantly told him. Kindness could go a long way. Aemon appeared in his mind, and he nearly snarled. Look where kindness had gotten him... Still. Lorcan had her trapped here. She couldn't do much, and if giving her the one request got her talking, then he'd think about what else he could give her.

Once her foot was done, he let it sit in his lap for a moment more while he redampened the wash cloth. He then grabbed her calf and part of her thigh, before he pulled her towards him. Her knee know resting up by his hip. He took the wrapped snow then, and turned his body to place it on the wrapped ankle. He turned back to her, wringing out the washcloth, and gestured for her hands. She was far closer now, and he looked down into eyes.

He still hadn’t said anything about her wanting a bath. His eyes took a moment to look over her face. She was still beautiful despite how tired she looked. “You can sleep in the bed you know. It hasn’t been used.” He whispered. In truth it hadn't. Maja had died before it could really get used, and he'd moved all of her stuff from their old home here. The house he'd never gotten to show her... If and when she gave him her hands, he’d gently begin to wipe away the blood.

[Aspen Wynfrid]

She was nearly taken aback at the single word he uttered, her eyes looking him up and down suspiciously before she huffed. "Wasn't you." She mumbled back, hoping that he didn't inquire just what it had been. Based on past events, it seemed unlikely. He didn't seem to be the type to speak often, or perhaps it was just her that he didn't wish to converse with. Either way, she soon found herself wondering just why she'd pointed out it had not been him that caused her reaction. Did she really not want him to feel bad? He should feel like shit. Either way, it was much too late for her to take back the words, and even if she hadn't muttered them, he'd likely still feel no remorse for it anyway. He certainly didn't seem remorseful for keeping her chained here.

His eyes had met hers for the briefest of moments at her question and her expression remained straight though a chill was sent down her spine as she again remembered she'd earlier dreamt of those eyes inside the face of a wolf. It only took her moment to also realize that perhaps that's why the wolf had been portrayed so large as well. Shaking her head, she resisted the urge to groan as he finished wrapping the bandage, setting her foot down gently as he took to rinsing the rag he'd been dipping in the bucket of warm water. In the next moment, his hands had wrapped around her calf and thigh, causing chill bumps to rise along her pale skin as he pulled her towards him, her knee so close to his hip that she was nearly in his lap. Her breath caught in her throat she swallowed against gritted teeth, using the moment he turned and placed the snow wrapped rag on her bruised skin to compose herself. Not really aware of her movements, she'd held her hands out to him as he gestured, locking eyes as she adjusted her other leg so that it, too, rested at his other hip, the sound of the chain muffled by his clothing.

She tilted her head at him as he seemed to study her face, frowning when he spoke up again. He'd blatantly ignored her question and it took all of her willpower to not roll her eyes again. "I couldn't if I wanted to." She whispered, deciding it best to avoid the fact that something about this place still felt off, even with another body present. Her hands were limp as he took to cleaning them. It was strange, to feel like she could still fight tooth and claw to her death, but somehow not wanting to. If she were quick enough, a flick of her wrists could allow her to poke at his eyes, possibly even rip the key to her shackle away from him and set herself free. But then Jayna would still be left behind and Aspen could not allow that. So, she behaved. As best she could, anyway. "You don't seem the healer type." She commented then, knowing he'd likely get what she implied. For someone not the healer type, he actually seemed fairly good at it.

As she watched him, she felt her heart sink, just a little. Why did watching him almost make her like him? Was it the gentleness of his touch, the fact that she wanted more of it against her skin? Perhaps she was touch-starved. Maybe she really was delusional, but part of her urged to reach out and press her palm against his face, her fingers twitching ever so slightly at the thought. Why did she want to comfort him? She couldn't say, but the insistent craving was there. As a distraction, she spoke again, her words sounding heavy. "So.. About that bath? I'll stop asking if you just say yes or no, but I won't promise to not complain if you tell me no." She said, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she nearly laughed at her own words. Lycus would have laughed..

[Lorcan Drach]

He was pleased she held her hands out to him. Lifting his arm up so she could drape her other leg up by his hip. If it wasn’t for the chain, any on looker might have thought the two were being rather intimate with how they were sitting, but Lorcan didn’t think much of it. His mind was on the task at hand, which was cleaning her hands.

His eyes lifted to hers when she said she couldn’t even if she wanted too. Confusion showed on his brow. She could reach the bed perfectly fine even with the chain, as it was mounted to the floor under the bed. Then why? Did she not want to sleep in a Dragon's bed? Did she have trouble sleeping? He could make her an herbal tea to help her sleep. It was how he’d survived the months after losing Aemon, Maja, and his daughter. How he was able to keep the nightmares at bay that wanted to consume him and toss him into an eternity of forever hell. “Why?” He found himself asking, before he looked back down at her hands. Holding them gently in his large ones as he carefully cleaned the blood around her cuticles.

At her comment, he held his breath and then let it slowly out. Not wanting to think of Maja despite the fact she was everywhere in this place. “There are more than one type of Dragon.” He responded simply in comment to that. The Drach’s weren’t just savages as the other clans liked to think. They were prideful sure, but they were strong. They were mothers and fathers, healers, workers, warriors. The warriors might have been more known, but when the warriors came home someone had to tend to their injuries. He rolled his neck suddenly. A ghost of a touch grazing across the scar on his neck, it caused a shiver down his spine.

He reached out and cleaned the wash rag, ringing it out, before he went onto her next hand. Gently massaging the dried blood away, he turned her wrist over so it faced him and gently wiped the rag against her soft skin. For a moment he was entranced by the contrast of their skin tones. His was bronze while hers was several shades lighter. Far more delicate then his rough scared skin. His mouth twitched up in what might have been smile at her bringing up the bath again. He still didn’t answer it. When her hands were clean he began to put the pine salve on the worst of her nails, and then tore some thin strips of bandage with his teeth. Then wrapped her fingers. When that was done he got the rag, making sure it was clean, and the finally looked at her.

Almost hesitantly he reached out and pressed it against her cheek. He stared at her, not sure what he was doing. What are you doing? He thought to himself, but he was caught up in how beautiful she was again. And, he became acutely aware of how they were sitting once more. With his free hand he reached for one of hers and lifted it to own face. Replacing the hold he had on the washrag with hers, and then took his hands away. She could clean her own face.

“Any other injuries?” He asked. Wondering if she’d harmed herself in other places that he just couldn’t see. He’d wait for an answer, if she did and told him where, he’d examine and tend to them. If not, he’d place his hands under her knees, and lift her legs so he could move and stand up. “Use that for your bath. I’m going to get more wood.” He’d told her. Allowing her what he could afford her. It wasn’t a real bath, but she could at least wash herself free of any grime.

[Aspen Wynfrid]

She'd pursed her lips as he looked at her and asked her why. Dropping her gaze from his face and to the floor instead, she sighed. "It doesn't feel right." She said, looking at him beneath her dark lashes before glancing away again. "Nothing about this place feels right." She whispered, still not making eye contact with him. At his next statement, she'd merely shrugged her shoulders softly. Of course she knew there were other types of Dragons. How else would they deal with casualty and illness? Who would make their clothing and weapons? He just didn't fit those bills.

When he'd flipped her hand so that her palm faced him, her sky-colored eyes meeting his face just as his lips twitched into what was.. Was that the hint of a smile? A soft breath escaped her and she blinked slowly, wondering if perhaps she was still dreaming. If that were so, why did it feel so real? But it couldn't be.. There was no way the Dragon from the forest who had been so rough with her, pinning her with his hands tight around her throat could possibly be so tender with his touch. She had to be dreaming. She'd certainly have let herself believe it was a dream, too, if he hadn't suddenly reached to place the cloth against her cheek with his hand.

She met his eyes, absent-mindedly leaning into his touch, her expression turning to surprise when he brought her own hand to cover his, his movements slow. She felt her breath catch on her tongue, jaw clenching only slightly as her stomach turned, eyes changing to a look of gentleness as her fingertips met his warm skin. She could feel her heart pounding as she stared back into those ocean-blue eyes, confusion masking her expression for a moment as the world faded to grey around them. Then, abruptly, he'd removed his hand, her hand now alone on the cloth that was still resting against her cheek. She didn't know how to respond when he asked of other injuries. She simply dropped both of her hands to her lap and shook her head, the damp cloth leaving behind a little water on her fur-lined leathers. "Thank you." She whispered as he promptly stood up, moving her legs out of his way so he could do so before he motioned towards the bucket and cloth.

All gentleness was gone now and she furrowed her brow in disbelief. He had to be kidding! She looked at the bucket and back to him, only to see his back. It caused anger to swell within her. He always turned his back to her. Always. Her jaw clenched again with an audible click of her teeth as anger flashed across her face just as he disappeared through the doorway. 'Barbarian!' She thought to herself before her face softened again, memory flashing back to what had just happened between the pair. Just what the hell was that? Why had she felt so powerless and so consumed by his touch and his eyes on her? Sighing, she pushed the thought away as she stood. At least with him out of the cabin, she was free to undress so that she could properly clean herself. Well, semi-properly anyway. She dropped the cloth into the bucket, pulling it closer to her before removing her leather vest and cloth top, revealing the linen bra beneath. Undoing one of her braids, she used the band to tie her hair up, revealing the tattoo between her shoulder blades, the tip of the small arrow nearly touching the base of her skull while the bottom portion dipped just below her shoulder blades.

Turning her back towards the doorway, she reached into the bucket, wringing out the water before pulling her arms through the straps of her undergarment, pushing it towards her belly button as she began to wipe herself down, dipping the rag into the water as needed. Once her top half was clean enough, she'd covered herself with the linen bra again before she removed her pants to her ankles and sat on the floor, the same thin linen covering her bottom half. Feeling awkward, she cleaned herself as best as possible, enjoying the cool water against her soft legs, the feather tattoo that curled around her rip hip barely visible except for the inked birds that trailed to the small of her back. Finally, with a clean body, she began undoing her hair, flipping it over her face and hold her head over the bucket as she used the cloth to pour the water into her blonde hair. As much as she'd wanted to hurry before, she was taking her time now. Who cared if he saw her like this? She certainly didn't anymore.

[Lorcan Drach]

Since she had no other injuries, Lorcan turned and walked to the closet. Getting the axe, and then stopped at the door to remove his shirt. He set it up on a hook by the door, and then out side. Heading in the same direction of the tree he’d chopped down the first night here. He went further out this time, seeing where Turke had been when he’d gotten wood as well.

Lorcan could see that spring was on its way. It was still cold, but not as cold as it usually got. The snow was melting in some areas, and you could just feel it the air that in a few more weeks spring would come to Aldsage. Lorcan wondered what spring would bring, especially with the fact the Wynfrid woman was here. Kaige was as temperamental as he normally was, but Lorcan had yet to figure out why he was still so on edge. He had the sinking suspicion his father was going to set the clan into motion. To expand again.

He scowled, picking his tree, and set to chopping it down. Enjoying the burn of his muscles from the exertion he put them under. While he worked his mind wandered. Thinking of the things he needed to do. One of which got the Wynfrid woman talking about her true intentions and why she had come into Drach territory. He needed to know if she really had just been wanting to see if Kaige Drach hit his children. He didn’t believe it. He couldn’t, it was too easy. Had she come looking for something else? Drach secrets? Not that there were any, and if there were, Kaige kept them all to himself. He thought about what had just happened inside the cabin. There was still some fight in her, and she’d even joked with him. Maybe he could get her talking easier than the route he was originally going to take. His original plan was to get her starved from so much social interaction that when she finally got it she spilled her guts. But Lorcan knew that wouldn’t be so easily accomplished. His next plan was to take her into the secret room in the cabin. Blindfold her, and make her think he was taking her to a new location when her torture room was actually on the other side of a wall.

In which case she’d get tied into a chair, and would get to meet his knife. Men he could torture no issue. In fact, he never admitted it, but when the Morelings fell and they had captured some members, Lorcan had been of the ones tasked with getting clan secrets out of them. How many men had be broke? How many men had shown their lion hearts and died in their chairs, or bit off their own tongues so they wouldn’t spill their secrets? It had been a dark time for Lorcan. A very dark time, and he’d taken sick pleasure in making another hurt as much as he hurt with the loss of his wife and child, as well as his brother. He hadn’t said a word. They knew what he wanted, and if they didn’t give it to him? He killed them.

But women? Kaige may have no issue with it, but Lorcan struggled. It wasn’t the woman he was supposed to be torturing in that chair. It was his little sisters. His wife. His baby daughter, his mother… He could barely stomach the idea, he knew if any of the women in his life he cared about were in that position, he’d gut the interrogator without a second thought. He hoped putting the Wynfrid women in that chair would be a last resort.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but when he was done, he picked up his arm full and headed back towards the cabin. Enjoying the cool air on his hot skin. He paused at the door, unsure if he should go in or not. How far had she gotten in her “bath”? Had she even taken it? He war’d with himself for a moment as he stared at the door. “Hmmm.” He growled to himself. He was being ridiculous. She was a wolf. Not a Dragon. A dog. That’s what she was, she didn’t deserve his gaze to roam over her possible naked body. Even then, this was Maja’s house. His wife’s. He was a stubborn man with an iron resolve. He’d be fine.

He yanked the door open, stopping his feet free of snow before he went to far in the cabin. He kept his eyes on the wood box, that was his goal. The Woodbox. He wouldn’t look. He didn’t pretty good for the most part until he turned around and caught a glimpse. His eyes quickly went to the floor, and he kept his head somewhat down while he walked back towards the door. Closing it behind him, he went to go gather more wood. His heart racing more than it should have in that moment.

[Aspen Wynfrid]

With her hair effectively soaked, the Wolfess had taken to detangling her strands with her fingers, a soft hum beginning to form in her chest as she sat in the floor on her knees, feet tucked underneath her. Her voice rang softly in the space, reverberating through her body as she allowed herself to slip into a happier place, at her homestead, surrounded by family. She could still just hear the sound of Lorcan's ax as he swung it into the bark. She'd paid him no mind when he'd removed his shirt, paid him no more mind when he'd disappeared from sight. Now, sitting in nothing more than her underwear, alone within the cabin for the moment, she could sing herself into a sense of peace.

Try as he might, the Dragon would find that nothing broke the Wolf. He'd know only what she wanted him to, and nothing more. There were things far beyond his comprehension that he need not know about. One of those things was what she'd really came here for. As far as he needed to know, Jayna was still very much a stranger to the Wynfrid. Although, it seemed as if he failed to believe her words that week ago. It was apparent in the fact that she was still here, held prisoner. What more did he really want from her? He should really be thankful. There were so many things she could have done to make bringing her here that much more difficult. She could have spoken her native tongue, told Khan to follow and wait for his opportunity to attack. She could have directed the canine to attack his horse, leaving them both stranded in the middle of the woods. It had crossed her mind to send Khan to attack the Dragon directly, giving her a chance to fight back. She could have kicked his horse just right, leading the animal to throw them both into the ground. There was so much she didn't think he'd considered; so many ways she could have continued to fight, even with her hands bound. She'd come willingly, and that seemed to be an oversight to the Drach. Did he really think she was completely helpless? No, the Beta was resourceful and intelligent. Of course, the more he underestimated her, the better. It gave her the upper hand that she desperately needed.

By the time he'd entered the cabin again, she was in full song, her voice ringing beautifully and evenly into the stillness. "The wolf he howls, the lion does roar, the wolf lets him in." A small grin spread across her lips. "The lion runs in through the door, the real fun begins. As they rush upon you and rip open your flesh, the lion eats his fill and then the wolf cleans up the mess." She looked up for a mere moment to see him enter the space she occupied, head down as he seemed to refuse to so much as look her direction. The sound of her amusement practically played in her tone as she continued. "The lion's outside of your door, the wolf's in your bed. The lion's outside of your door, the wolf's in your bed." There was an eerie sound to the tune she sang as if a precursor of what was to come. She continued to hum the song from the beginning as he placed the firewood next to the fireplace. From the corner of her eye, she saw him peek, the faintest hint of a cocky smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she continued to hum and he promptly exited the cabin again. She wondered for a moment if perhaps her near-naked body made him uncomfortable. Maybe, instead, he was simply being respectful. The thought made her giggle out loud before she began to hum a different song, one more closely related to her people, but still just as lovely and terrifying as the first had been.

By the time he returned again, even that song had come to an end. Finished with her hair, she'd taken to dunking her top and vest into the bucket of water, using the chain slack as her means of thoroughly scrubbing the garments before she wrang them out, laying them onto the floor to dry. Frowning at her pants, she wished that she could remove and rinse them as well, but the cuff around her ankle prevented their full removal. With a frustrated sigh, she moved to pull them up before resuming her sitting position again, dropping her hands into her lap. Her blonde hair hung easily to the middle of her back, weighed down by the water that soaked it. With no way to dry it, it dripped down her back and into the floor, a few droplets falling down her face as well, following the curvature of her forehead and cheeks. If one hadn't known better, it would almost look as if she'd just come out of a rainstorm. The water reflected the soft glow of candlelight, looking almost like crystals against her pale skin. She eyed the Dragon suspiciously - and with the slightest hint of lust at his toned, muscular frame - wondering if he still carried her dagger around as if it belonged to him. "So, tell me Dragon," She began easily, pulling half of her hair to her front, running her fingers through it slowly. Her eyes were set onto the strands as she worked at them. "If I am to walk out of here alive, as you said I would," Her eyes narrowed, now finding his face as she reminded him of the words he'd spoken a week ago. "What is it you still want from me exactly?" Her voice was low now, the slightest hint of a rumble as the words escaped her mouth. Had their situation been different, her tone could have been compared to sultry or enticing. But here? Here, they were something different altogether; an indication that she was willing to hear him out, even if reluctantly.

[Lorcan Drach]

He’d gone for more wood, this time only going into the kitchen and stacking it, making several trips until all the wood he’d chopped was neatly stacked. There’d be decent supply for a couple days now at least. He then grabbed his shirt and put it back on before he went back into the main room. Hearing her humming. It was strange to hear singing. He hadn’t really heard anyone sing since Jannik had been in the clan. The Drachs...they did not sing. They roared. They chanted, there was not hardly any signing or even dancing save for funerals and weddings, and it had been years since any of them had happened. They only sang for events where singing was necessary. Either joyous or mournful. Not for their own pleasure.

He paused for a moment before he came into her line of sight and listened to the humming. He didn’t know the song, but it did sound rather lovely. After listening for a few beats more, he finally went into the other room, just to see her pull her pants back on and sit down. Her upper clothes were soaked and on the ground next to her. He made sure to stare at her face, but he noted how wet she looked, and he only looked long enough for her to ask her question before he began to start the fire. He then went to the trunk and fished around inside until he found the soft green material of one of Maja’s tunics. His hand fisted in it, and he pulled it out. Shutting the trunk with a click and then moving forward, tossing the tunic into her lap before picking up her wet garments, and walking back to the fire, hanging them up on the mantel so they could dry faster.

He walked over to the table then, pulling out a chair. He turned it, and straddled it, reaching behind him he lifted the back of his shirt to pull her dagger out from his waistband, and then laid his shirt back in place. He draped his arms over the back of the chair while he examined her blade. He’d done a lot of examining it over the last week. His thumb traced over the initials in the hilt, but specifically the W. It would be easy to assume she was a relative of the Wynfrid chief Ookami, but Lorcan wasn’t going to jump straight to conclusions. That would be dangerous, and if she did? Well then she was really fucking stupid, and should count her blessing it'd been Lorcan that found her. She could have another W last name, or this dagger might not be even hers. It could be a lovers for all he knew. His eyes drifted up to her face as he twirled the blade between his fingers. “You haven’t given me what I want yet.” He said simply. “You can start with the truth.” He said. The heaviness that usually weighed on his brow just grew heavier as he looked at her. He waved the dagger at her then, tapping on the initials with his index finger. “Start, by telling me your name.” He requested.

[Aspen Wynfrid]

He'd started the fire before moving to a nearby trunk, removing some sort of garment and tossing it into her lap. She glanced down at the green tunic before picking it up. She then gave the Dragon a curious look as she realized how small and feminine the clothing looked. Why the hell did he have a woman's clothes? Reluctantly, she pulled the fabric over her head, pulling her hair out of the back. It surprisingly made for a nice fit and the threads were comfortable. Whoever it belonged to had obviously valued comfort, something Aspen was definitely not opposed to. Even still, she wasn't going to just sit here and enjoy another woman's clothing. "Do I look nice?" She asked, posing mockingly. The expression she wore was that of the unamused, however.

She sat up straighter as he moved a chair in front of her, straddling it with his arms across its back. Her eyes narrowed on him as he removed the very thing she'd moments earlier been curious about; her dagger. When he spoke up, the way his brows fell heavy over his eyes made Aspen roll her blues as she crossed her arms across her chest. Hadn't he learned by now that this little intimidation tactic got him nowhere? Then, his request sounded more like a demand as he tapped the initials and Aspen laughed lightly. "I wasn't aware the Dragons took down the names of their prisoners." She said stubbornly, her gaze hardening on him. She could tell a hundred different believable lies if she wanted. Engaged to the Chief or his son, perhaps a gift from the Cheif's family. Hell, maybe she was with the warrior who'd once owned the blade and took it for her own when said warrior was laid to rest on the battlefield. Maybe she was a thief and she stole it. For a moment, she thought about Jayna's words and really considered them. She could lie about her name, but what last name could she possibly use that would sound natural to her clan's culture? No other person within her clan carried any initials starting with a 'w'. This one would be tricky for sure.

She'd moved to stretch her legs out where she sat as she carefully considered, resting her weight on her palms as she crossed her ankles, bandaged over cuffed. "You know, this would be an easy puzzle to solve if you had a knack for any detective work." She said, lifting one of her hands and holding it out at her full arm's length, pretending to examine her nails. She dropped her hand and leaned forward then, a shit-eating grin appearing over her face. "I suppose that's not really fair. After all, you're a big, strong warrior and not a detective, right?" She asked him, her tone mocking as she poked out her bottom lip at him before smirking. She knew from her experience with him thus far that he'd soon tire of her games, however, and her taunting would only serve to make him irritable. So then.. What was she supposed to do? Continue to pile lie on top of lie? So far, it seemed to be the only way. Sighing, she leaned back again. "Fine. My name is Ash. The dagger you hold? It was a gift." The lie sounded easy as it rolled from her lips, but it seemed this Dragon had a knack for seeing right through her. As skilled as he was in detecting lie from truth, he'd still be smart to not believe a word out of her mouth, even if she did tell him the truth. Never trust the enemy, under any circumstance. She'd had that bore into her brain and it served her well. She didn't trust she'd be leaving Drach territory alive.

[Lorcan Drach]

It was less so an intimidation tactic, as it was, it was just Lorcan. He’d always been quiet, but he guessed he was a bit more talkative than he talked now, before Maja and Aemon had died. He was broody, and it didn’t help he that he was a large man, just adding to his intimidation.

He tilted his head a fraction of an inch as she laughed. Prisoners didn’t laugh, but he was quickly noticing that this woman seemed to try and make the best out of her imprisonment with her jokes and smiles even if they never truly reached her eyes. He wondered what a real smile would look like on her face then. No, she’s a prisoner. You need to treat her as such. He warned himself. He would not be easily swayed by this woman. “We do if it’s possibly their Ookami Wynfrid’s daughter. Or niece...daughter-in-law….” He said each title slowly. Gauging her reaction to each one.

His face was blank, ignoring her jab. The Drach’s didn’t do detective work, they killed and asked questions later unless they needed questions answered. Like now. He sighed heavily as he watched her. “Funny.” He grunted. Looking back down at the blade. His thumb ran over one of the wolf heads as he looked at it. It really was a fine blade. Good quality steel, beautiful even. Not as beautiful as it’s owner….but it was a pretty knife. When she finally told him what he wanted to hear, he twirled the blade skillfully in his hand so he held the handle of the dagger so the blade rested against his forearm, and he held it facing outward. He crossed his arms, resting them on the back of the chair as he leaned forward.

“Ash huh?” He said allowed. He stared at her with those stormy blues of his. In his opinion, she didn’t look like an Ash. He imagined she would have a far prettier name then just Ash, but he also didn’t believe she was telling him her real name. They both had trust issues you see, but he was going to have to start somewhere if he wanted to get anything out of her. Ash it was. “Lorcan.” He rumbled his name out. “This is a pretty nice gift Ash, who gave it to you?” He asked. It didn’t explain the ‘w” on the blade. Ash could be the A, but that still left the rest of her name up in the air. “I don’t like fucking around, so I’m just going to get straight to my real question. Why were you really in Drach territory?” He asked. He didn’t want to waste time. Time was already clearly ticking the longer she stayed here, the longer he ran the risk of someone finding her. It would be disastrous for all parties involved. “And don’t tell me it was because you wanted to see if Kaige Drach beats his own children.” He growled. His blue eyes nearly piercing as he stared at her.

[Aspen Wynfrid]

She smirked as he rattled off titles slowly, not allowing her face to so much as twitch as each one passed his lips, though she felt her blood chill in her veins at 'daughter.' For a moment, she thought back to their first encounter in the woods, where she'd almost used that as her trump card. Looking back, she couldn't help but feel smart with her decision to keep him in the dark about such a fact. He moved then, saying her fake name in a tone that told her all she needed to know; he didn't believe her. But, instead of giving in and blurting the truth, she lifted her chin, her expression looking more like a clever wolf as she grinned. But then, he surprised her, giving his name - his actual, real name. It took all of her will-power to not lay all her cards out right then and there, declare that she knew already knew who he was and more about him than he could ever hope to know about her. But, she refrained. Patience was the key in this battle of wits.

Again, he said her fake name with that tone and she rolled her eyes, looking off to the side as he continued. "You don't have it say it like that, you know. You can say my name like a normal person." She moved to cross her arms before looking back towards him to answer his question. "You don't care who gave that dagger to me." She said simply. "But if it makes you feel any better -" Her tone was condescending now. "A man didn't give that to me, nor am I the daughter-in-law to anyone, especially Ookami Wynfrid." Her smirk was cocky now, though it felt strange to use her father's name as opposed to simply 'father.' It even sounded strange coming off her tongue.

His next words seemed to contain a hint of hostility - or at least, that's how the Wynfrid woman perceived it - and Aspen stood in a single, graceful motion, making her way to the chair he sat upon and placing her hands on either side of its back, careful not to touch his hands as she did so. While he wasn't much shorter than she, even while sitting, she still brought herself down to eye level with him, her tone firm, and her expression hardened. "I already told you what I'm here for, Lorcan Drach." She made sure he was looking her in the eyes, her own gaze just as piercing. She'd not soon allow him to forget the woman he'd first encountered in the woods. "I came to protect my people. To find out just what the mighty Drachs were planning in their silence over the last three years." She sounded eerily calm now, all things considered. "Upon my little investigation, I've learned quite a lot." She said with a cheeky smirk. "I've learned that even the fearsome Lorcan Drach, second to Kaige Drach, has something to fear. That he secretly seems to despise his own father." She moved back then, letting her hands fall to her side. "I learned a Moreling lived, but not just any Moreling; the Chief's daughter."

She let the words take a moment to sink in before she spoke again, her tone cool and serious as her crystal blue eyes bore into him. "I told you, Dragon. I can help you. I was hoping to find people just like you." She held her elbows in each hand across her chest, a relaxed way of crossing her arms. "I can see that fire in you, Dragon. That desire for change. We're much the same, you and I. Help me, help you." She extended both arms as she said the last words, a mock cheerfulness in her tone, though it was clear anger and determination still stirred behind her eyes.