The Heart of The North

The Arena

"Ariella, come." My father, the King, says with a dry tone.

"Yes, Father." I bow my head and follow him to the arena.

My father is the King in the South, and he disregards me. He only sees me as a means for alliance with the neighboring country. He's announced that I'm betrothed to Prince Fallion, a disgusting excuse for a man.

"Princess." Fallion says as we enter the arena. I wait for my Father to sit, then I follow him. After, the rest of the guests in the arena take their seats, including Fallion.

I act as if I didn't hear his greeting, and turn myself to steel as I look on into the arena. A smaller man enters from the left, and he looks scared out of his mind. Following, a brute of a man comes from the right side. He's huge, obviously very powerful. I look back at the boy. I understand why he is afraid.

Fallion sips his wine, looking to my Father, "This will hardly be a fight at all."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. Look at that brute. These stupid animals know nothing except how to kill." My father says.

"My Betrothed, you don't seem to be enjoying yourself." Fallion says from the other side of my father.

"She's a girl. They aren't as entertained by this sport as us men." My father chuckles, and Fallion returns his laugh.

"Hopefully she doesn't feel sympathy for these dogs," he turns to me, "You know what they do to women up in the North?"

"I do." I say, clipped and quiet.

The match begins, and I repeat my words in my head. I don't believe they're really that bad. Some of them may be, but then again, some humans are the same. These dogs, as the South calls them, are werewolves. They can't shift anymore, but no one's bothered to tell me why. Showing curiosity about the Northmen meant shame on my family, growing up.

I watch with a steel gaze as I hear the cracking of bones. It breaks through my steel resolve, and I stand.

"Stop!" I shout.

My father looks at me, "Ariella. Sit."

I don't answer. I stay standing, "Lord Fallion, the boy. He's so young, and fit, have him work in the stables for me. This is no fight, if you want a real fight, I suggest you make it somewhat fair."

"Hm," Fallion hums.

"Please, as a wedding gift for me?" I say, saving my dignity so no one thinks I sympathize with them.

"Yes, My Love," I try not to wince at the disgusting name, and he turns to the crowd, "My betrothed is as compassionate as she is beautiful. Send them to the kennels, we'll move the boy's position when his arm has healed."

"Dismissed." My father stands, and stewards drag the boy out of the arena. The brute follows.

Fallion leans to whisper in my ear, "If you wish to be taken like one of these dogs would take you, that could easily be arranged tomorrow night. Perhaps I throw you in the kennels and let them have their way." I hold my steel gaze, although I want to tremble in fear. The crowd disperses and my father and Fallion head back to the keep. As I turn to rush to my chambers, I catch the brute's eye on accident. I hold his gaze, for some reason.

In his eyes, even how far away I am I see the North in this man. I've never even seen paintings of the North, but for some reason I can see it. Fire, violence, loyalty, survival... all in those two blue eyes. I turn my facade steel gaze from him, and make my way to my chambers.