Kidnapping The Princess

[Alistair]

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Of course she would not. She was one of them. Why would she ever shed a tear over a druid? Alistair gave the ores harder jerks as her words angered him. He said nothing, not bothering to give her an answer. In his mind he was seeing his mother crying over his father's death and his uncle pulling him away from her. She knew she was next, he still wasn't sure why she had not run with them. He had seen it happen a few times. He'd dreamt about it for weeks before it happened.

No royal princess would ever care about her, nor know her name nor shed a tear over that loss. Only a druid mother, she'd earned it. He rowed the boat with angry pulls over to the side of the river--the opposite side then they started on. He jumped over the side, once he was closer tot he edge and the water would only come up to his knees.

For a moment, he thought about flipping the boat over so the princess would get soaked. Instead he stood there and stared at her. Glared at her. "Your knight is alive, Princess." He said bitterly making the word princess sound like an insult, then held his hand out for her. He was rather angry over her words, and for the moment he was only going to carry her to shore. Allowing her to stay dry, however if she did something overly arrogant and princess like, he still might flip the boat.

[isadora]

He was angry now. Of course he was, she'd just admitted that she wouldn't weep so much as one tear for his people if they were being slaughtered, seemingly for the crime of merely existing. Wouldn't she be angry if someone decided to eradicate all the people of Gwent like that? Wouldn't she expect others to grieve for them as she did? She forced herself to stop thinking like that. Her people had not all committed crimes that warranted death; magic users had chosen their wicked ways, did they not deserve what they got? But then, maybe they also deserved to have someone mourn for them too.

No, she couldn't think like that, not for the person who was holding her captive, who looked as though he might do something horrible to her now that she'd made him angry. Logically, she should try to avoid that in the future, but a part of her felt better for having struck a nerve with him. It may not end well for her, but at least now she knew that he wasn't some scary sorcerer with no humanity whatsoever; if nothing else, he could be outraged.

Then he told her that he hadn't killed the knight, and her eyes went round with surprise. The inflection when he addressed her was not lost on her, but the insult seemed unimportant just now. She opened her mouth to say something, but the question died on her lips without ever fully being formed. What could she ask? Why hadn't he killed him? Why had he lied to her? Why should she believe him now? But she did believe him, and the other questions seemed irrelevant, so instead she just stared at him with confusion and surprise, then took the hand he offered. "Thank you," her tone was sincere, if still confused at how his mood and his words seem to contrast.

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[Alistair]

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When she placed her soft as silk hand in his and thanked him he sent her another--this time deeper--glare. "Shut up, princess" He told her not wanting her thanks. She was a royal. A high and mighty judgmental princess. She would cry over a knight, who's name she did not know but damn druids who faces she would never see. It would not matter to her if the druids were like his mother and father and innocent of any wrong doing or like the rebel band of druids who openly plotted ageist Camelot.

He yanked her hand to pull her roughly into his arms. He used his foot, and knee to push the boat so it would float back closer to the middle and the current would catch it, taking it down stream, back where they had come from. With any luck it would pass down stream and be found on the other side of the river, leading the knights in the wrong way.

With her cradled in his arms, he made his way to shore, but did not set her down until he was ten or so yards away from the shore line, not wanting dogs looking for her scent along the bank to pick her up so easily. He needed to get out of the armor but knew better then to turn his back on her. "If you run, I will big your feet and drag you the hour walk to the village." He warned her as she started to unlace the metal plates on his left arm.

[isadora]

Just when Isadora began to believe there might be a shred of humanity in the man, he went crazy over some stupid little thing, like a simple thanks. She yelped when he yanked her out of the boat, and she wondered if his rough handling of her was because he didn't know any better, or because he intentionally wanted to hurt her. Either way, it seemed she was going to get more than a few bruises as long as he was holding her prisoner. She didn't dare complain, though, out of fear that it would set him off again.

She looked around when he put her down, she had no idea where they were...but she didn't want to go wherever it was he wanted to take her. She scowled at his threats, she believed he would do it, but would that matter if she managed to get away before then? Besides, dragging her for an hour would be as much of a punishment for him as for her. But she couldn't get away unless she found a way to distract him first. He was removing the chain mail, but he didn't seem to be doing so very quickly. She could tell that he wasn't used to wearing it.

"You'd think you'd never worn chain mail before." She said with what she hoped was an impatient sigh, she moved to his side, unlacing the thick leather straps that held the defensive plates in place. She had helped her father with his armor just that morning; it wasn't often the old man wore it anymore, but there had been a time when he'd worn it everyday, like any good warrior king.

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[Alistair]

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When she moved to help him his face soften out of the glare but his guard went up. What was the princess up to? He doubted she was doing this out of the kindness of her spoiled little heart but what would this gain her? He watched her face rather then watching what her hands were doing. He did however, give her a reply. "Most druids can not afford armor." He told her, but that wasn't the only reason. It was easier to hide in the woods, and blend in thus surprising your pray when you were not clinking and clanging.

He stood still while she helped him. He wondered if she was stalling for time but with their head start he was not worried for the few moments that this could put them behind. It would be hours before the young prince got the letter and men were sent out to hunt them down.

Once the armor was off his arms, he just stood there watching her, trying to see how far she would take this. She was shorter then him, and he could see over her head. Smell the clean scent of her hair. He thought again of his gift and how he was seeing her die. He knew that when he took her from the castle her life was in his hands. It was his job to keep her alive. It would be his fault if she died because he failed.

[isadora]

Her small, soft hands worked quickly and confidently, deftly pulling the metal plates free of his arms and setting them down carefully on the ground. She knew her care was unnecessary, that it was more likely that he would leave it to rust in the mud than go to the trouble of carrying it around with them, but even if the man who rightfully owned this armor wasn't dead, he still deserved her respect enough that she wouldn't mistreat something that he likely took great pride in.

"That's why only nobles are knights. Arms up, please." She spoke simply, the whole reason people relied on nobles was for their defense, and the reason they paid taxes was to buy the expensive gear that no one would be able to afford otherwise. And that was why nobles devoted their lives to protecting and administering kingdoms, rather than working the land. They gave their lives in defense of their kingdoms, and were well-rewarded for it. She moved behind him to lift the heavy mail; it was almost too heavy for her, but she managed it, lifting from the bottom up. It wasn't the right way to remove armor, and she knew it; when you did it this way, it got caught on itself. But he wouldn't know that, not until it was too late.

With some difficulty, she managed to pull the bottom of the chain up past his shoulders, and was beginning to get worried that her plan wouldn't work, until she felt the telltale pull of chain on chain. She had no idea how long it would take him to free himself, but she hoped it would be long enough. "It appears to be...stuck. Hold still for a moment." She kept her voice level expertly, lying was just one of those skills a diplomat picked up. Then she backed away quietly, and once she was a few paces away, she turned and ran into the trees. Not blindly this time, she was looking for a place to hide. The further she let him take her, the more likely it was that she wouldn't be rescued.

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[Alistair]

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He knew the moment the chains stopped moving that he had been had. He was not speaking any words, but in his mind he was yelling. He was kicking an screaming. Calling her every curse he could imagine in any language he could think of. Some so dirty and lowclass, he doubted she knew they were real words. He was going to hunt her down and drag her back by her hair! Bid her and drag her though every lake and mud pit and insect nest he could find along the way! . . . . and just maybe a few NOT along the way.

He nearly dislocated his shoulder in effort to pull the suit off his head, and began the chase. She had a head start--a good one--but he knew these woods. He would find her! She better enjoy this run, it would be the last time she was not bound to his side for DAYS! He would make her sleep tired to him! Live tired to him! Never a moment's privacy! Not even for 'delicate girl reasons'!!

the ground this close to the water was soft, so he knew which way she went for the first few feet, but as she got deeper in to the woods, he had to look for signs such as over turned rocks, broken branches, or even the slight hint of her scent. Most people did not smell so overly clean. Only rich nobles. While it was not a bad thing to smell clean, it did not blend in with the musk of the woods. Silently he quicken his pace to close the distance between them.

[isadora]

Having never needed to hunt or track in her life, Isadora had no idea how to cover her trail, or even that she should be trying to. She was just focused on putting as much distance between herself and her captor as possible, as quickly as she could. She had no desire to be caught again, especially knowing what he would likely do to her for running away this time. But how could she not try to escape, and take every chance she possibly had to do so? She didn't have time to think about that now...she needed to get away from him.

Determined to get away, Isadora raced through the woods desperately, searching for someplace she could hide or some way she could get away. She had no idea where she could go, the outdoors had never really been her specialty, and she didn't know where she was going. In all honesty, she could be running in circles and she'd never know it. Even so, she kept going; anything to stay away from him. How did he expect her to just cooperate, and let him do whatever he wanted with her? She'd rather pay for running away than regret doing nothing later.

Slowing down as she found herself growing increasingly tired, she glanced behind to make sure he wasn't in sight, then ducked behind a large tree, leaning against it to catch her breath. It might not be such a good idea to stop, but she thought she was far enough away to risk it. She couldn't just keep running without rest forever, after all.

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[Alistair]

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Alistair paused when he heard the leaves stop crunching from under running feet. She'd stopped somewhere. He walked forward slowly, making sure to not step on anything that would make a sound so she would not know how close he was. Some villains might have started yelling after her, ruining the advantage that the silence gave them, but not Alistair.

The wind shifted for a few moments, swilling around him and he picked up the clean scent of her skin. A grin flashed over his face and he moved closer to where the scent was coming from. Part of him wondered if this would be where her end was meet. Knowing that she was in danger, made his almost more angry. He did not want her to die, no matter how much she'd angered him.

When he paused beside a tree, he could almost her her trying to catch her breath on the other side of it. Silently as possible, he walked around the tree, until he could see her. Reaching quickly over he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her. Pulling her body ageist his. "Now, now Princess, didn't your father teach you not to tease a man?" He used his other hand to grip her face, and then brought his lips down on her's in a crushing and short kiss before pushing her back down on the ground. Standing above her he glared. He thought about dragging her, while he pulled out a leather cord. He was going to bid her hands and maybe even to his side.

[isadora]

Isadora wasn't even aware that he had caught up to her until she felt his grip on her arm, and before she could even jump back in alarm, she found herself being crushed in his embrace, eyes wide with shock mingling with outrage. Grabbing the hand he used to hold her face with her only free hand, she managed to rip it away with strength she hadn't even known she possessed, and twisted her neck to the side, tearing her lips away from his with no small amount of force. "Get OFF of me!" She screamed furiously, even as he shoved her down to the ground. Her eyes blazed as she glared up at him, how dare he?!

Maybe she should've been more afraid, with him standing over her with that damn cord, but she was much too angry for fear to even phase her. Who the hell did he think he was?! She pushed herself up onto her scraped, bruised hands, disgust written over her face. Kidnap her, drop her, hurt her, fine, but this? This drove her over the edge. Usually so calm and composed, able to deal with life and death crises, he had just made this far too personal for her to deal with rationally.

Refusing to be at his mercy, she got to her feet, but instead of trying to run away unsuccessfully again, she balled her tiny fist up, and regardless of how ineffective it might be, she threw a punch at him. Sweet, gentle and pacifistic, Isadora had very rarely had to resort to violence before, in fact, she tried to avoid it whenever possible, but then again, she was sure that she'd never before been this angry with anyone before.

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[Alistair]

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He had thought she might be outraged but when she tried to hit him he was surprised she would dare. Most girls, kissed against their wills might cry or scream at him but this one fought back. Point for her. He dodged the punch easily, and grabbed her wrist-again-holding it tight.

He wrapped the cord around it a few times and tired it off. He said nothing and showed no outward signs of her fit she had just had. He wrapped the other end of the cord around his wrist and began tieing it off as she spoke. "We have an hour's walk tot he village. I wont go easy on you after this. If you fall behind, I will keep going. Your not going to find the castle in these woods, and soon darkness will be upon us. Trust me on this, princess when darkness hits these woods I will be the lest scary thing out here."

With that he turned and started walking away. It only took a few seconds for the cord to run out of length and it to grow taunt between them, and when that happened he gave his wrist a jerk so that it would yank her or pull her along. However she wanted it.

[isadora]

She winced as he squeezed her wrist, she had figured something like this would happen, but she didn't care. She still wanted to cause him pain, regardless of how crazy such a notion might be in her situation. The cord bit into her soft, uncalloused skin mercilessly, but she didn't make a sound as he bound it tightly, instead glaring at him with hate-filled eyes. She hadn't hated him before; she certainly hadn't liked him, but she hadn't hated him. Now she wondered how she could have ever had anything but certain loathing for him.

Isadora rolled her eyes when he claimed he'd be the least scary in the forest. "Scary? You? No, you're just like a little bunny. An arrogant, ignorant, ill-mannered little bunny, but hardly worth being afraid of." She bit out venomously, no, she wasn't afraid of him. She was too mad for that. She let the cord go taut, until he was pulling her along. It didn't take long for her to grow tired of being pulled along like a lapdog, and she quickened her pace enough to walk next to him.

"You know, you're hardly helping your cause with this. I wouldn't be surprised if your actions spur Uther and my father to redouble their efforts to stomp out magic. Not sure I'll be inclined to talk my father out of it this time." In the past, Isadora had opposed the witch hunts, if not for the safety of the people, then because it seemed like a waste of resources, just to catch a few harmless hedge-witches. She wasn't a proponent of magic, she still believed it was evil, she just didn't want to slaughter a whole lot of people because of it. She was trying to get a rise out of him. Maybe just because he'd made her angry, she wanted to return the favor.

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[Alistair]

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He ignored her. When she was trying to annoy him with the coil, he ignored her. When she called him a bunny, he ignored her (even if he wanted to growl at her). However, when she spoke of renewed efforts he wanted to smack her. He would never hit a woman, but he thought about it for a few moments.

He gave no reaction to her words that last time, other then a harder jerk of his wrist so it would tug harder on her's. He was not going to say anything. Not yet. Soon he would lay down the rules of this little misadventure. Rules such as her role in this.

He thought about pushing her up against a tree and yelling at her but he honestly didn't want to waste the breath on a spoiled, temperamental princess. He pitted the man she got leg shacked to. She'd give him hell and drive him to an early grave. Let the king and her father try to burn out the druids. Let them bring their armies. The druids would just attack back. This would never end until Uther was dead.

[isadora]

She honestly didn't expect a reply from him, unless it was to tell her to shut up again, but he didn't say anything. Pity. She had wanted to scream at him some more. Well, her rage could wait for a few hours...she would never admit it, but keeping up with him was taking its toll on her, and she found it easier to just walk than to try and insult him while they went. So he was spared having to listen to an ongoing tirade by her exhaustion. Honestly, by now she just wanted to go to sleep; it had been a very long and trying day.

At least he didn't seem to have a lot of magic he could use against her; if he did, he either lacked the will or the ability to use it to recapture her. She still had every intention of getting away from him, but right now she didn't have the opportunity or the energy. She'd have to plan it better, if she were to have any hope of getting away before he had time to catch her. She still didn't know how he had managed to catch her in the first place; maybe he'd used magic to find her? That would make sense.

It seemed like they had been walking together, and Isadora was exhausted. She hadn't had anything to drink since they had dismounted the horses, and she'd been exerting herself quite a lot since then. It didn't help that they'd been on the move all day with very little rest. Dropping behind him quite unintentionally, she tried to keep her eyes open, but found herself blinking anyways, stumbling, pulled along only by the cord encircling her wrist. Then the world went dark around her, and she toppled to the ground unconscious.

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[Alistair]

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She did not hit the ground. He knew she was getting tired and he had been planning on scooping her up in his arms and carrying her some of the way, but he wanted to make sure that she also knew he was not here to be her friend. He wanted her tired and miserable. When she stopped walking he glanced back just in time, and drove forward to catch her.

Funny, had he put a common girl though this sort of treatment she was have brought the heavens down with loud complainants. Yet the pretty little princess said nothing. Point two for her. He lifted her into his arms and started walking again. It was not long before the slight sounds of the village came to his ears.

He took her into his tent and laid her down on the straw mat that served as the softest bed he'd known. To her, he was sure, it might feel like the ground. There was a bucket of water in the corner and he moved it closer to her. Removing the cord from his wrist, he bound it to the pole in the middle of the tent. The distances would give her some moving room with out allowing her to leave the tent.

He wondered if she was just tired, or if she needed medical help. There were no doctors in his village as it was only a few of the more peaceful druids living here. Three family's, and two other nomads for a total of ten people plus him. He also wondered if this were a new trick. Time would tell. He sat down in the tent, and drank some of the water while watching her sleep and darkness set in. Yes, time would tell.

[isadora]

Some hours passed before Isadora stirred, her head pounding in her skull like a drum. Rolling over slowly, she grimaced, wondering if she'd fallen out of bed as she felt something hard beneath her; but it was too warm, with too much give to be stone. Her entire body was sore, and slowly, she blinked. She was still tired, her limbs felt like they were filled with lead, and her mouth and throat were dry with dehydration.

Her eye finally fluttered open, her expression one of confusion as she looked upon the unfamiliar surroundings. It was a dark, cramped space, with a low ceiling, very unlike her room at the castle, or even like the tent she used when traveling. Then her eyes fell on other occupant of the tent, and her body stiffened automatically, forcing herself to sit upright as the events of the past day came back to her in a rush, and her headache intensified. It felt like a dream...or rather, a nightmare. She wondered if he'd followed through on his promise to drag her to the village...if the pain was any indication, that was a yes.

Finding she was unable to speak, she glanced around until her eyes found the bucket, and even though it was less than appetizing, she didn't hesitate to drink some. If it were poisoned, she'd know soon enough. At least it tasted clean and pure, although she didn't know if that was just because of how thirsty she was, or if it was actually the water. When she finished, she looked back at he captor wordlessly, wondering if he'd say something, or just continue to stare at her.

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[Alistair]

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Alistair watched her slowly wake inch by inch. he could tell the very moment in which she remembered everything, by her body language. He wasn't sure but he began to think he was paying to much attention to that. Always watching her and thinking of her skin. He needed to just hod tie her up, gag her and leave her until the young prince paid the random.

He reached over to a bag not far from him and opened it up, pulling out a flat metal slab, before getting up and leaving the tent. He did not go far, just to the fire build out side. The others were cooking the meat they had hunted earlier that day. It was late in night, but the nomads were up. The families tended to be early to bed, early to rise while the nomads stood watch over the nighttime.

He came back in with a plate of small food. "Trust me, Princess," He said not making the word princess an insult this time but nor was it a compliment, "Don't ask what type of meat it is. Just eat it." He looked down at it, and thought it might be bunny. He doubted she had a fondness for bunnies after she compared him to one but he wasn't sure to tell her it was rabbit. Girls tended to get squeamish when you gave them a face to put with their food. He sat back down where he had been, pulling a part of the meat off the slab and biting into it as proof it wasn't harmful before offing the rest to her.

[isadora]

When he left the tent, she gave a quiet sigh of relief. Sitting there with his eyes on her was only serving to make her uncomfortable, and since she didn't have the option of leaving due to the cord that now connected her to the tent pole. Experimentally, she tugged on it, wondering if she would be able to pull the pole free if she tried hard enough, but it seemed pretty sturdy...and she was still too tired, sore and even a little woozy to tried just now. Maybe after she'd rested some more.

Rolling her shoulders, she reached a hand up to rub the sore, hardened muscles on her neck, wincing slightly. She wasn't sure she'd ever exerted herself so much before, and it wasn't something she relished the thought of trying again. She wondered at why he would've left her here by herself, figuring that he or one of his compatriots was probably standing guard just outside. She wasn't going to try something just yet.

She was sitting upright, her legs tucked beneath her, when he came back in. She wondered what kind of meat could possibly have him warning her, and while she relished the thought of refusing to take anything he gave her, the smell of cooked meat made her realize that she was starving. Or as close to starving as a spoiled princess could ever be. She raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment, taking the meat. She didn't thank him on purpose...last time that only seemed to make him angry. She took a small bite, chewed and swallowed; it was a little stringy, but tasty nonetheless. She looked up at him. "It's just rabbit, isn't it? I've had it before." She usually only had it while traveling, when the knights managed to snag a creature on the road, but she recognized it. It wasn't her favorite dish, but it did in a pinch. She took another small bite.

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((I'm heading to bed now, good night!))

[Alistair]

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His lips twitched slightly as if he might have smiled at her words. "Probably." he admitted, his deep voice holding a thin hint of humor; "I seemed to recall your fondness for bunnies. I didn't want you to enjoy it to much." He teased her, if she had compared him to a bunny, then she might like sinking her teeth into that one. His little princess was a blood thirty one at times.

He sat there, not looking at her while she ate. He didn't speak until she was mostly done. "They know your my hostage." He told her gesturing to the men out side before looking over at her. "They do not agree with my actions but nor will they help you escape. Druids are hunted, and so to live we must make our homes in the scary parts of the woods. I am not asking you. I am telling you. Do. Not. Try. To. Escape. There is a hundred different things out there who would love princess for breakfast."

He would let her finish her meal before giving her the rules. He was still trying to think of good ones. He knew the rules he wanted her to obey but after she escape attempt, and his growing unease of his visions he knew he needed more. How to phrase them and make them sound final was what he was working on.

[Like wise, sweet dreams.]

[isadora]

Isadora smirked wickedly at his joke, and didn't hesitate to take another bite rather than answer. She figured that would give him all the answer he needed, watching him while she ate even as he refused to watch her. So now he was a wise-cracking druid? Guy had so many moodswings she was practically getting whiplash from the sudden shifts. She didn't comment, though, she was hungry and if she made him mad he might take her food away.

She figured his 'friends' would be involved with this, so it surprised her to learn that they didn't agree. Maybe, even if they wouldn't help her escape...maybe they wouldn't stop her, either? Or maybe she could brook some sympathy with them; she wasn't exactly sure how to get away right now, anyways. When he appeared to have finished, she raised her eyebrows at him skeptically, did he really think she was simply going to obey him? She wasn't used to doing as others commanded her at the best of times, this was hardly the time to become meek and submissive.

Once she had consumed all of her food, she looked at him. "I'm not particularly inclined to believe anything you say. You've already lied to me, after all." She pointed out, it seemed to her that even if they were in a part of woods known only for its fluffy bunny population, he would tell her how dangerous it would be for her to attempt an escape. As far as she knew, most of the woods of Albion were dangerous, so that lent some support to his claims, but she wasn't going to admit that. She wanted him to provide her with some real reason she could trust he wasn't the worst thing in these woods.

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