𝙳𝚊𝚜 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚣: 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙴𝚒𝚗𝚜

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏

In the dark of the dungeon, there is a single row of lights lining the wide stone hall. Koza opens the large door which in turn makes a deafening grind, the hinges have given to rust from lack of use, say for the occasional meal being brought to the prisoners. In a sick twist of irony, no meal is being brought by these soldiers for that is what the prisoners are intended to be to them. As the door sounds, rustling comes from the line of cells and hands reach out between the bars.

Koza stops, not wanting to see the faces of the few prisoners. He takes the key from the hook on the wall and hands it to Thayer beside him. Not a word is exchanged as the key drops to Thayer's waiting hand, only regret and hesitation are remarked by Koza's richly green eyes. As Thayer leaves him, Ermanno steps up and slaps a chipped plate on the small slanted table that rests under the key hook.

"Koza, look." Koza passes a glance at the remains on the plate and then to Ermanno. "It must have been the lunch of a guard, fish." The bald man grins widely, then joins Thayer's approach to the first cell in the row which is housing the few captives as Koza watches.

Though his eyes are open Koza's mind fades, leaving him only the sense of hearing. The shuffle of prisoners backing from the door not knowing what to expect, the key turning the workings of the lock, the cell door swinging open with heavy creaks, the snarls and guttural growls as the hunger again takes rein of the two soldiers, the screaming that starts and desperate cries for help. His sight

comes back to him as he looks down to the plate of old fish, not feeling hungry anymore.

The late hours creep as the earth seems to relish the night, bidding it to stay. The moonlight ripples on the flowing water of the Ita River as its current gentles in a small alcove. As you trail your gaze in the alcove from its water, to its sandy edge and up the steep hillside covered in lush foliage, spotted with trees and indented by a winding path of steps and landings, you see at the top the cold stones of Eber's grand house.

Though it is cold on the outside there is warmth on the inside, the warmth being from Lorelei's bath of hot water. She rests in the claw-footed tub in the bath of the master bedroom. Her hair is tied up into a mess and one leg sets out of the bubbled water on the tub's rim.

"Even after all this time, I am still not accustomed to the idea of hot water from a pipe." Raising her hand from the bath she taps the faucet with a finger while contemplating the workings of it.

Compared to the Roman Empire, Loviturä has made itself known for advances in civility, enticing the wealthy and powerful to take residence in the city. It supplies luxuries such as clothing markets, large stores where the finest fabrics are already made and so varied that any size wearer can be accommodated. There is dining of highest quality and class, using foods of rare tastes. Yet another marvel being its inventions of comfort, like the tapping of underground hot springs beneath the city to flow from the faucets of homes.

After drying off, she slips the layer of white shirt up her shoulders, loosely buttoning it down her front. Stepping out from the bathroom, Lorelei stops at the edge of the bed, casually staring down at Eber. He rests atop the covers in a position of contentment, fingers of both hands interlocked on his stomach and eyes gently closed. His sword sets upright leaning against the side of the bed an easy reach away. His heavy uniform coat has been shed and thrown over a chair in the room, along with the black leather jerkin and tall boots carelessly dropped on the floor.

Reaching up to her mess of wavy hair, Lorelei untangles braids as she reflects on the evening. "Ever growing in threat are you not, Soldier?" She smiles, letting her hair fall loose over her shoulder. "Not only have you gained power yourself, but you now have a little army of undead who follow you devotedly." Her tone is playful as her hands come to rest on the pommel of the leaning sword. When her slender fingers slowly brush the metal, Eber's eyes begin to open. She draws the blade towards her. "I wonder how long until you overthrow the King himself?" She states towards the air, off in her own world of impish humor. In the silence that falls after her words, her eyes drift down to him, seeing him looking back at her. His dark eyes glide from her down to the sword in her hands. Following his eyes, she looks to her hands over the pommel. In the silent moment, the subtle hum of metal lifts from the weapon once again. With a hint of remorse, she leans the sword back against the bed, slipping a last finger from the metal. "...Sorry." Her voice has a moment of earnest pitch before turning from the blade and rounding the bed.

The bed dips as she sets a knee to it, tugging at the covers. She nestles neath the covers, into the pillow as though the spot were hers, or had been at one time. Her eyes close as she nuzzles her face into the pillow and commits to sleep beside him, his own eyes shutting once more.

More of the night drifts by, the waves at the shore below the house gently washing against the sand. The flowers and plant life along the hill, up the path to the house, leisurely swaying from the cool breeze.

His senses more aware in current times, Eber wakes, his eyes opening slowly and drifting down his body to Lorelei's arm she is gradually gliding over him. In witless sleep, she leaves her pillow to nestle against him, resting her head to his shoulder. In time, his eyes move from her hand on his chest to her face framed by her untamed dry hair.

Studying her face, he sees subtle lines around her eyes and mouth he has watched her gain over the years. Some years that were better than others. Years when those lines were smaller. When much else was different. In his reflections, he separates his hands and moves one to hers, grasping it. Slowly, he lifts her hand to the hilt of the leaning sword, he wraps his hand over hers to hold it loosely to the handle. Mildly, his dead eyes on her change as feeling starts to accompany the thoughts of the past.

( A/N What are your thoughts on the dungeon scene? Love to hear feedback! Have a great day lovelies! )