Torin II
"A bath had never been so unclean." thought Torin. Running a towel over his skin, drying off the mixture of sweat and bath water. "Sethrana would be a fine addition to our new home. Finally something besides warring and politicking. Fucking, now that's something." The towel dropped to the floor of the bath chamber and Torin turned his head back to Sethrana, still bent over the side of the bath, breathing heavily.
He walked back over and crouched by her, inches away and still half erect. He ran his right hand through her firey red hair then down to her cheek. She breathed hard and looked up to him, opening her mouth, fully prepared to continue servicing her lord.
"No, no, my lady, I must be off now." His hand moved below her chin and his thumb crept to her lower lip. "Come to me in my bed chambers tonight. We will see about you giving me my heir a second time. In case this time did not take." He smirked.
Sethrana nodded then managed to speak through her slowly recovering breathe.
"Of course, my lord. I'll be waiting to receive you again. Thank you, thank you." She smiled faintly and nudged her face into his hand.
"Do you require assistance with standing?" He chuckled aloud.
"Oh, no, my lord. I'll stay here a while and take another bath. One is most definitely needed. I took the liberty of laying out small clothes for you over on the bench there." She chuckled back to him, pointing over by the door.
Torin answered her chuckle with a smile and stood up, walking ever so proudly over to the clothes that had been chosen for him. He donned the outfit and gripped the handle of the large oak door before turning to take one last look at Sethrana.
"Zandrine's Ass! What a start to royalty! Perhaps Torig was right about this life after all." He thought, smiling, as he turned the handle of the great oak door and stepped on through.
Waiting outside the door were two guards covered head to toe in bear furs, weilding short hand axes, freshly shined. The first of the pair was an Orc. Along with the hand axe his left hand held some sort of tome. A book bound in dark red leather. He sported a long black beard that hung down to his chest and the hair on his head did the same. His eyes were an empty pit of black as well. So dark were they that one couldn't see the pupils within. Creeping from his lips were two large teeth that pointed upwards like a pair of daggers. Despite his grizzly demeanor the teeth shone brightly, white as the snow. Contrasting with the Green-Brown of his skin. This was Burz, a Berzerker of House Wykehem. Reoman, Torin's father, had taken Burz in around the time of Torin's eldest brother, Reoman II's birth. Burz was almost like a third brother, only much easier to pick out in a crowd of Zandrinian men. The man alongside Burz wasn't known to Torin. Perhaps one of Reoman's new men picked up along the ways of conquest. He was bald with a short, tightly trimmed beard. His eyes were sad and tired, and he had clearly spent the last few days of the war on the frontline during the sacking of the city. Both men clapper their axes to their chests.
"Good morning, my lord." spoke Burz, formally.
"So serious!" Cried Torin. "Burz, you have been a brother to me since before I was birthed. My father named you his own! Why do you treat me as a stranger!" Torin moved in and embraced the tower of an Orc.
"Torin, you are royalty now." He struggled at first, wary of the soldier beside him, then eventually hugged back.
"That's what everyone keeps telling me! But it is not "You" Burz. It is us! Just because you walk the path of the Berzerker does not expel you from this family. And I'll have you know that I am most definitely aware that I am no longer the third born son of a minor lordling. I am very much aware of that my big green brother." Torin released his grip and turned to the other solider. "Good morning soldier, and you are?"
"I am Dane, good morning to you as well, my lord." He gave a slight bow.
Torin nodded his head in response to the bow. Burz then began speaking again, slightly rushed.
"Torin, if you have finished with your.. distractions, we must carry on to the armory. Torig and father are waiting, eagerly."
"Very well, Burz, Lead on then! I shan't keep them waiting any longer. Besides, I must thank Torig for my gift!" Torin grinned.
The trio began their march toward the opposite side of the castle. For this wing was for relaxation, libraries, living quarters and such. Torin's eyes darted down to the tome in Burz' hands. He hadn't known Burz to be the scholarly type. In fact he was rather stereotypical of an Orc. He enjoyed smashing, drinking, arguing and fighting. He was quite the sight in all of those regards. Which endeared him to Torin from a young age.
"Burz, what is that book you carry?" Questioned Torin.
"I don't rightly know." His brow furrowed. "Father bid me to find it among the old kings study. I don't care for it though. Feels like something born of trouble."
Torin smirked and cracked a joke. "You'd say that about any group of pages bound in leather! You should consider picking up a book or two!"
Burz cracked a slight smirk. Through that smirk he quipped in his raspy deep voice. "I picked this one up didn't I?"
"That you did!" The pair chuckled and Dane smiled to himself as the trio approached the double doors to the armory. "In you go, brother. Dane and I will keep watch."
Torin pushed in the towering double doors and within lie a small host of men and women talking and laughing loudly. They cheered and boasted over their newfound kingdom. No longer were they common soldiers of Lord Reoman. They were proper royal guardsmen under King Reoman. A soldier caught Torin in his gaze and made a fist then bore that fist into his chest and shouted out for all to hear.
"My lord, Torin Wykehem!" The partying ceased and all the soldiers shouted the same greeting.
"My good men and women! Today is one for revelry! Continue your celebration! But keep your minds sharp for the coronation ceremony! Our jobs don't end here!" He saluted back and noticed Torig, with a grin standing towards the back of the room. There he stood most likely telling war stories from the previous days of battle. Torin approached him, grasped his shoulder tightly and shook him playfully.
"Ah! Someone's returned from their bath! I do hope you got behind your ears brother!" He laughed merrily.
"You, Torig have deemed me the bad influence but here you are filling my bathwater with Elven whores!" Torin laughed. "And what a find she was! Zandrine blessed her in every possible way! I must say I think she'll be around the castle in a more permanent way. Perhaps the Queen requires a handmade?"
"So quickly to fall in love,Torin?" He jested
"Love?" Torin sputtered. "She was the finest lay I've ever had. I shan't want to lose that! Love is something not given in a days time. Certainly not to one who is paid to service you." He chuckled but felt a dash of guilt for being so dismissive of Sethrana.
"I jest, brother. I jest!" Exclaimed Torig between his laughter. "Come now! It's time to get you equipped for the ceremony. Your first appearance as a prince is going to be remembered from this day all the way on through the histories."