A Bounty Hunter's Bundle

Heartbeat Before A Tyrant

The weeks of journey to get to Briarclare, a small little town tucked inside an ancient fortress, were terrible on Lincoln's body. Never before had he loathed a silent horse back trip. But now his body ached, and he was exhausted. The sight of the inn nearly made him start crying for no apparent reason other than relief. A bed to sleep on, some whine to drink, and warm food to eat! He nearly jumped off his horse and ran for it.

Valkyrie thankfully was silent, and tried not to pressure him to much with the baby. Though when they got to the inn Valkyrie took one look at him, and grabbed the reins of his paint pony. "You go on in, and order some foot and get a room. I'll unsaddle and get them bedded down."

"Thank you," Lincoln replied gruffly, secretly pleased to not have to care for his horse, then strode across the cleaning, pulling down his hat, hiding his bow, and making himself appear sinister.

Inside he smiled inwardly at the warm atmosphere, and the fact it was dinner time. He walked to the inn keeper, who was scrubbing the counter. "I'd like one room, with a bath, and hot water to be brought up." He slid her a gold coin far to much but not caring, he wanted to be attended to and he wanted that now. "Dinner included, I myself would like a duck, and I have my partner coming in a minute, he probably will want the same. We will also want some alcohol later."

The older woman smiled at him, and took the coin, "Anything else?"

Lincoln shook his head, and sat down, "Hustle up though, I don't like being kept waiting." His voice was a growl as he placed his forearms on the table. She immediately got him some rich whine. He could smell it, it was rich and not cheep like Edna's.

He was swirling it with his finger, and contemplating about his dinner when Valkyrie came in. The room stilling and becoming silent at his daunting appearance. When he sat down next to Lincoln though and gave a heavy sigh while taking of his hood--his cloths and body reeking of horses--did the room become friendly again.

Lincoln lifted his glass, "You did that quickly...." Valkyrie grabbed the glass from him, and drank it.

"No," he growled.

"What do you mean know, and come on that was my wine!"

"I mean no wine," the warrior growled, and Lincoln frowned.

"The fuck do you mean I can't have wine?" he hissed in a dark manner, as the bar keeper refilled thew glass and slid another onto the table. "It's far safer than any shittin water these fucking town could offer."

Valkyrie leaned in, his blue eyes blazing, and lowered his deep voice, "You need to keep the baby in mind. No alcohol."

"I can have a fucking glass of wine if I want one, so don't fucking tell me what I can't and can do," he grabbed it off the table, "A little bit isn't going to kill anyone."

Before he could drink it though, Valkyrie grabbed it again and drank it. "Stop it," the warrior snarled, but Lincoln had already grabbed the second one, and drank it in one swift motion. He gave a satisfied sigh and wiped his mouth.

"Mam," Valkyrie spit, "Were would be our quarters?"

"Upstairs last room on the right wing. It has two beds."

"Good," Valkyrie spit, "We will be back in little bit for dinner." He stood up bodly, and grabbed Lincoln's arm. The Bounty Hunter almost launching himself into attack mode at the gesture. He was hungry, angry, tired, and wanted some fucking wine.

Lincoln jerked his arm free and followed before a scene could be made. He followed Valkyrie grudge fully, arms swaying, and his body moving an arrogant swagger. The warrior just walked powerfully and boldly.