If he could not harm her simply because she was mortal, he would not be able to take any other mortal's life either. So what could he do? Turn to his kin? The kin who had been talking of late about revolting against him? The dragon slayers still lived. They still hunted their kind and took their souls. He was failing as a leader to some of them and was showing that he was weak. If he asked for their help now, he really was weak. His position as prince would be replaced by someone inferior to him.
A low, throaty growl escaped his throat as he realized he had walked his mind around in a full circle again. All he could do was wait this out and hope that perhaps the magic would wear off so he could return to his true form. Then he could take his time and break the slayer's will before taking her life. He looked back down at her when she unlatched the metal clasps to her wolf pelt and let it fall from her shoulders. She caught it in her spare hand and tucked it under her arm, not missing a beat as she stepped down the clean stones. He looked behind them and saw that the snow had dried up several steps ago. They were now walking on a snow-free path. He could see a small town at the end of the weaving stone path at the foot of the mountain.
It must be the one the old man mentioned. "Dragon slayer," he said.
She at least responded to him but did not look at him. "What?"
He pulled his pelts from his shoulders and secured a latch around his waist so it would not fall to the ground, but his hands were now free. "What do you plan to do with me?"
She shrugged and steered her horse around a tight corner. "Clothe you, feed you, and keep you out of trouble."
That couldn't be all she planned to do. What about torturing him? Beating him? Making him suffer for all his accused sins? "And? What else?"
"What else? Besides feeding and clothing you? I don't know, I have not thought that far ahead."
"Slayer..." he started, his voice quieter than he'd ever spoke. Why was he being so gentle with her? Ever since her expression had turned dull, he'd found himself being incredibly conscious of her.
She spoke before he could continue. "Enough with the dragon slayer nonsense. You shall stop calling me that, understand?"
Eskil frowned. She did not want him to call her that? What was he supposed to call her then? Wench? She-elf? He thought about it for a moment, then the realization finally hit him that he did not know her name. He only knew her as a slayer, his mortal enemy. The slayer of his brethren. A female elf with power he did not think compared to his. What was he supposed to call her? He looked back down at her and cleared his throat. How was he supposed to ask for her name?
"My name is Libelle," she said, still not bothering to look at him.
"Libelle?" Her name flowed off his tongue like water, smooth and cool.
"Yes, just Libelle."
It was strange but he liked her name. He liked it more than calling her slayer. "Why that name?"
He saw the crease in her brow form when her head turned just slightly, although she still didn't look at him. "You're asking me why I have my name? Really?" She sighed. "My mother named me that, it has something to do with dragons. Other than that, I don't know why she chose that name. Now, no more questions, we are reaching Braedon in less than an hour. No more calling me slayer either, I do not need people to be finding out about that. You'll call me by my name or nothing at all."
Eskil was pleasantly surprised. "The townsfolk don't know you are a slayer?"
"No, they do not. I'd like to keep it that way, makes for less of a headache when I want to be at home."
Even more surprise. "You don't want others to know you're the slayer? Why? Wouldn't you want everyone to know so they could shower you with gifts and gold? It is an honor for you mortals to be dragon slayers." He said the words with menace, allowing his hatred for her and her kind to seep into his voice.
"Yes, I suppose for some it would be an honor."
What? Eskil thought, more puzzled than before. She didn't say anything else to him, her lips locked together and the key was lost. Her words threw him off and his intentions of leading their conversation into an argument were long gone. Wouldn't a mortal be proud of that title? That power? He held onto the leather horn when she and her horse descended a long slope of steep steps. Every slayer in history was famous. They used their power to do nothing but slay dragons and earn gold coins from their lords and masters. They were cruel and vile, and they showed no remorse for the killing of my kin. Granted, I show no remorse for killing her kin, heh. Why is she different? Why does she not rejoice in her power? It would bring her all the gold coin she could ever desire and all the dragon souls she could ever need with unlimited power. She could become so strong. Eskil looked back down at her. And why have I not killed her yet?