Gaalin hadn't spent much time in Edinburgh, long enough to tend to the dragon's corpse and collect the valuable materials from its decaying body. Long enough to enjoy in brief festivities and merry making, to enjoy the companionship of women who lusted after him. Long enough to make his rounds through the market, and of course a trip to the obnoxious castle of the lands King.
Not quite as disgusting as his predecessor, his father who so cruelly subjected Libelle to her years of harsh training and had the audacity to call it a display of her loyalty. Loyalty that was never asked for, but demanded, for if she had not sworn herself to him…
This current king, he could at least display some sort of compassion towards his people. Towards the slayer who was no more a spoiled slave to the land, to his people. He was the reason that Libelle was granted the manor in the rolling hills at the base of the mountains, a manor built in the honor of all fallen slayers yet paid for with her coin. Even though she had been gifted the manor, she was still expected to come when he called, like a dog.
His visit to the castle wasn't very long, just enough to feel the sensation of his skin crawling in annoyance while listening to the lord's idle conversion in the great hall. The king didn't allow his visit to be any shorter, holding him hostage with the promise of golden coins, treasure and valuable gems. Yet the man's desire to speak, to learn about the slayers most recent adventures, kept him.
It was all he could do to speak quickly, to withhold as much detail as he was permitted before he was able to snatch a leather pouch of valuables from a servant. He stormed away from the stone building with a promise of more treasures to be delivered to his carriage before he left the city. A carriage that he was planning to depart with as soon as possible.
It took him no more than a few hours, and he'd readied three carriages filled with supplies that he and his ladyship would need over the course of the next several months. Preserved foods, new clothing for the both of them, woven blankets and animal hides were crowded onto one of the horse drawn carriages, pulled by a pony with thick hair and muddy feet. Beside it was another carriage, one pulled by a larger, burly horse. This wagon loaded the salvaged bits of the dragon's carcass, its scales and hide, teeth and bone. The third was larger than both, attached to it were two draft horses, and stacked within it were crates of new livestock.
He had found himself waiting impatiently on his own horse, the large creature pacing in place as he waited for the servants from the castle to arrive with the remaining payment of the recent slaughtered dragon. The servants appeared to have been lax in bringing him the slayers treasure, up until they saw his dark glare from a distance. They hurriedly reached him at that point, lifting three heavy chests onto the first wagon, grunting as they set the wooden boxes down. When they scuttled off, he nodded his head at the men loitering around the wagons and turned his horse away, turning back to the cobblestone path that would lead him to home.
It didn't take Gaalin long to reach the homestead, though it took the horse drawn wagons considerably longer. He had just enough time to reach home, to inspect the property after being away for nearly three weeks already. He was thankful to find that almost all of the livestock had survived his time away, only finding a fence that had been broken and a few of their chickens missing. The remaining flock tucked safely away in the back of their wooden coop with a loyal, but dumb hound siting proudly in the mix of cattle and goats. At least his more valuable livestock hadn't gone missing.
Upon the arrival of the miscellaneous farmers and workers, he took his time to stand back and direct the men on where to unload the supplies and the animals. Squealing pigs, bellowing calves, baaing lambs, bleating goat kids were all shuffled into a large paddock cornered up against the enclosed barn. Honking geese and squawking chickens ran alongside scuttling ducks into the pen that two men were working to repair, utilizing rope to tie knots against twigs to seal the pen shut.
The food was hauled into the house, meat hung from the rafters of the dug-out rooms beneath the house. Produce carried in in woven baskets, and supplies for all sorts of cooking and baking stored alongside it. Clothing, blankets and animal hides safely tucked away in a spare room. While the material harvested from the dragon was carried off to the workshop next to the manor. Material that would be used to craft armor, weapons, equipment for the animals and more.
It took the workers all afternoon, their work extending into the late evening until the men were well exhausted and Gaalin had no more patience. The workers retired for the night, gathering around a fire they constructed in the yard. They planned to rest until the following morning, where they would all ride back down the mountains to Edinburgh, leaving behind the smallest wagon for Gaalin to use in the near future.
Besides barking orders at the men Gaalin hardly conversed with them. Now, after preparing himself a warm bath and soaking long enough to cause his toes to prune, he dressed in loose fitting muslin pants and stood beside one of his dressers. Standing close to the numerous candles that illuminated the area well enough to stare at the pieces of jewelry in his hands. Golden armlets, with twisted bands of gold met at the ends with the roaring head of a dragon on each end. The two a matching pair and crafted with refined taste and workmanship that was rare for the crafters in Edinburgh. Yet he was fortunate enough to find a female smith who had displayed her creations behind a glass window, unique jewelry and weapons.
He'd merely attempted to browse, yet once he saw the detail and the skill that went into each piece, he had these commissioned. He had waited a few months, more so awaiting the completion of the matching blade that went with the armlets. The silver steal reflected the light of the candles, while the golden pommel and guard sparkled like magic. He smiled while setting the armlets carefully around the leather wrapped length of the grip.
"Beautiful enough for her ladyship." He murmured to himself. "So much so, that I cannot wait to gift it to you."
His red eyes met his reflection, his damp white hair clinging to his collar bones. "My lady Libelle… Hurry home."