After their decisive victory over Orinovo, Lys-Akkaria's army crosses the border to take back territory that used to be theirs. With the combined forces of a lightweaver and shadowforger, Orinovo doesn't stand a chance.
In spite of their newfound a...
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Ain stared down Neven where he was standing in the middle of the small cell, his arms chained up to the ceiling. While Ain was smirking, the Orinovan glared silently. Ainreth could almost feel the way he was simmering—it was great.
They had taken up residence in an old fort near the border, just to be safe with their captive. Ain would have loved to go back to Kyr-Toryl immediately, put Neven in a nice, proper prison, but time was of the essence. Once they got answers, Neven was going to be brought to the capital, stored away as a bargaining chip, or whatever that misborn Varilik was planning to do with him.
And honestly, after kidnapping Fennrin, Ainreth didn't really care what happened to Neven. So that was fine with him. As long as the kapetan couldn't go around hurting people.
"Not feeling like talking, huh?"
Neven just rolled his eyes, tugging on the chains a little. Without his armor and cloak, he looked kind of thin. Ainreth hadn't noticed that before, but then again, he hadn't paid Neven much thought aside from remarking to himself that the other man was good-looking. If they both weren't spoken for and Neven wasn't too much of a fanatic to go for it, Ainreth thought they could have had something. The whole mortal enemy thing was kind of appealing.
Though he stopped that thought before it went too far. Fenn was standing right next to him, and while Ain of course had no intention to do anything, he felt bad even thinking about the possibility. He didn't want to hurt Fennrin, and he didn't know how okay he was with these things. They should probably discuss that at some point, just so they both knew.
"Do your worst," Neven said finally, looking from Ainreth to Fennrin, his glare still in place. "I won't tell you a thing."
"Always so serious, Nev," Ain shook his head dramatically, knowing full well that it made Neven angry that not only was Ainreth calling him by his first name, but also that he'd made it into a nickname. The aforementioned worst he could do to Neven were things like this, not torture.
"I am a prisoner of war," Neven pointed out, frowning, as if thinking that Ainreth was actually being genuine. Maybe the poor guy didn't know what sarcasm was. "And I can do nothing to help my soldiers from being butchered by Orinovo's colony."
"Lys-Akkaria isn't yours!" Fennrin immediately took the bait, but Ain patted his shoulder, smirking the whole time at Neven.
"You weren't doing a great job before, buddy, so I don't see how having you locked up changes things," Ain said, grinning ear to ear when he saw Neven clench his jaw. He was such a delight to provoke.
"We have a superior army. It's simply you two freaks turning the tide. It's unnatural."
Ain kept his hand on Fenn's shoulder, trying to keep him calm, which did seem to work. He wanted to suggest that maybe Fenn should sit this out, especially because the only reason Fenn was here was that he didn't want Ain to be alone with Neven. But Ain also didn't want the shadowforger to think he was pushing him out of the way because he thought Fenn was incompetent, or something, so he was here to stay.
