Bow Before The Lord Marshal

Metal

After making one another feel pleasure from one another, multiple times through the night, you slept comfortably, however, your sleep was filled with nightmares. You kept seeing eyes of silver, and seeing hazel eyes fade into a dull white. It was like you could witness a continuous death, and yet it wasn't you own death. You woke quickly and the cool air stoked your skin.
Feeling hot, and cold at the same time, you listened and waited. The ship seemed eerily quiet, and the scent of fresh blood sent you on edge. Knowing it wasn't your own, you felt a sinking feeling in your gut. Vaako woke from his sleep, and without sensing any danger, he placed a hand on your arm. Startled, you quickly turned to him and gripped his wrist. Suddenly, realizing there was something wrong, he sat up.

"What is it," he asked quietly.

Taking a breath, your Y/E/C eyes looked into his own hazel ones.

"There's fresh blood in the air," you whispered. "Too fresh to be my own."

With a nod, he quickly got up. He started to dress quickly, then you did the same. Both of you started to equip your armor, and when you saw him struggle with some of the straps, you quietly helped him. There was no argument over helping, nor a word spoken, but once you were done, he did the same. It was a silent communication. Both of you naturally felt helpful to one another.

Once you were both set in armor, you looked at your Lord Marshal, and he stared down at his Lady Marshal, and you leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss. His lips felt so soft, and warm, compared to his armor. Pulling away slowly, you looked into his eyes and could feel his power. There was no grin, nor smirk, in this moment, just the concern buried deep within his irises, and a grim expression born on his face. You smirked softly, and challenged his own power with your own natural Furyan power. It was then that he lifted his head high, and smirked. You'd become a powerful woman.

He put his arm out for you to grab, and you took it without question. Feeling right, under his arm, you both began to walk out of your chambers together.

Strolling towards the throne room, every Necromonger watched as their Lord Marshal, and his wife, came by. The power you both emanated was thick around you. Everyone who came to walk passed you could sense it.

   Upon entering the throne room, you could see that there was commotion, but you didn't know what it was about. The scent of blood reached your nostrils, however, the scent seemed almost familiar to you. As the crowd began to notice the presence of you and Vaako, it began to make a pathway for both of you. Servants turned their heads away from both of you, and soldiers stood tall, as if they were trying to impress you, but none of that mattered to you.
   To you it seemed that someone wanted to move up in rank quick, so there was probably a fight. It wasn't uncommon, however, there had to always be a witness. There had to be proof that the fight was to the death. The fights were so common, in fact, that most of the time it ended with the challenger dead because most challengers were newer Converts. Someone always seemed to want power, but you'd never been challenged, nor had Vaako. It seemed that everyone knew better than to even dare to challenge either of you. It was obvious that if one of you died, then the other would more than likely take revenge. Not only that, but both of you were the most successful fighters, and the most powerful in the Armada.

   As the crowd finally dispersed, the hand print on your collarbone began to hurt. The soft glow began to seep between the armor against your chest. A soft hiss slipped through your teeth, and you cast your eyes apon the scene before you.

   A servant's clothes, blonde hair, and dead eyes, but you recognized those eyes. The first friendly person in years laid in a pool of his own blood. Even Vaako looked stunned at the scene before him. A bulky man, coated in armor stood over the body of Darvik. The poor Furyan stood no chance it seemed. It broke your heart, and a tear slipped its way down your face.
  

   Slowly, the victor turned to face you and Vaako, and a tinge of fear flowed through you.

   Gripping onto a dagger tightly, the man seemed to carry an animalistic way about him, which actually terrified you. Just like you, there was a glow coming out from beneath his armor, however, he showed no signs of pain. Instead, his face seemed to be set into a scowl.

   His eyes were locked on Vaako.

   The eyes of reflective metal...