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There was not much that would put Vaughn in a bad mood. He was a man who found amusement in just about anything and everything. He laughed in the face of danger [literally]. He chuckled at other people's pain. He tormented ones fears. Yes; it was no secret that Vaughn was a less than kind man. But this.... this would be what set him in a mood where he could not even find the slightest bit of amusement. He was already a difficult man to locate but in the past few months, he had been far more elusive. He never tended to want, or need to, avoid anyone. For if he came across a ghost from his past, or someone he had wronged, he welcomed the challenge and tension. Entertained by the awkwardness and or anger the other person felt towards him. But Vaughn had found the person that he sought to avoid. One that he never wanted to see so long as he lived. And yet; he found him.

He had been at an inn, doing what he always did. Raising a little hell. Causing a little chaos. Wreaking a little havoc. When suddenly, a dozen armed men came to him. Vaughn had immediately recognized where they were from, and automatically knew of their purpose. The damn druid had found him. Ever since that dreadful day where Vaughn had saved Alistair's life... Vaughn wanted nothing more to do with him. He had taken an arrow for the man, and it had been no accident. It had been a reflexive action, yet a selfless one. Selfless. Since when did Vaughn ever think of anyone else besides himself?! Had Alistair known a different sort of magic, he would have blamed the druid for enchanting him and making him do it. Vaughn could create any excuse to make his actions seem less considerate, but both he and Alistair had been present. Unfortunately.

The small army spoke that by order of Alistair, they were to escort Vaughn to Gwent. Vaughn did not need to know the details why. It was bad enough he was going there. It was not to be imprisoned or executed but rather, because Alistair undoubtedly wanted to see him. It was ironic as well, the fact that Vaughn did not want to go. Several months ago, he had demanded payment for his aid to Alistair. He had not asked for riches nor gold, but access to the Gwent castle. And now, Vaughn wanted to be no where near it. Hell, he did not even want to be in the same kingdom. For seeing Alistair would remind the nomadic knight of what he had done. Of who he was in danger of becoming. And Vaughn did not wish to become the man that his actions that day may have suggested.

But alas, what choice did he have. This group of men would take him by force if necessary. And Vaughn knew he was outnumbered. Heavily outnumbered. So silently objecting to this, he went with them. Putting him in a terrible mood for he was truly dreading having to see Alistair. The journey was short, having passed by far too quickly for Vaughn's liking. He tried to stall it as much as he could. First complaining that he needed to rest every hour. Then saying that he was not well. Then insisting that they stop by every tavern in every town and village they came across. It got to the point where the soldiers forced him to press forward; disallowing him to make any more stops. Damn it. They were getting closer. And closer. Until before he knew it, they had arrived. Vaughn's face was expressionless.

No more was that constant smirk on his lips and gleam of amusement in his eyes. He looked sullen. Displeased. The look of a man who truly did not want to be here. He was not even looking forward to blackmailing Alistair and threatening to reveal the truth. Nor was he looking forward to seeing the princess Isadora and torment her, making inappropriate propositions and comments towards her; only to annoy Alistair. Not this time. Not ever again. For Alistair represented far too much in Vaughn's life. Vaughn had taken an arrow for the man, and he did not wish to be reminded nor rewarded for it. He could say it was an accident, having 'accidentally saved' his life, but neither knew that was true. There was no way out of it. He was trapped. And now, as they entered through the city gates, Vaughn felt himself wanting to just get the hell out of here.

[[ Tag Alistair ]]

Vaughn chuckled when Alistair named how many men he could hire for Vaughn's cost. He knew he could. But he also knew there were reasons Alistair was approaching him instead. Coming to him, knowing that there would be a high cost. It was because Vaughn knew his situation. Because Vaughn knew Asher. Because Vaughn knew how to get the job done. And because Alistair had worked with him before. These were just a few of the reasons that had entered Vaughn's mind. He knew full well that had Alistair had an alternate option, he would have gone to that. That asking, or demanding, this from Vaughn had been the only choice. And it was precisely why he knew he could ask for something to high. Taking advantage of the druid's desperation to get this done.

"And it would take ten times as long to get the job done. Considering it gets done at all." Vaughn was confident enough to know that this would be an easy task. As previously acknowledged, he and Alistair had done the impossible and it was never by luck. It was through skill. And planning...to some extent. Vaughn listened to his offer, and he knew it was the best he would get from him. Not that Vaughn ever settled. But he was aware of how this would be the beginning. Once he was in that far, he could get further. It was just the start he needed. And plus, when Alistair married his squeeze, then he would be king. And his chambers, when changed, would be all the more luxurious. "Very well," Vaughn agreed. Surely, Alistair was not that stupid. Clearly, he was just desperate.

"Shall we have a chat with Sir Garrett then?" He asked with a smug smile. The last time Vaughn was in Gwent, he had done his research. Well, not really. It was more just paying close attention to his surroundings. Sir Garrett was the leader of the army. Thus, he was ultimately responsible for the royal family's security. Which in turn meant, that if Vaughn was going to get in the castle with ease...it would be granted with his awareness. They would obviously have to make up some sort of story. But it should not be too hard when Alistair, a 'trusted knight' was vouching for his 'best friend' Vaughn. Or whatever name they went by. It was also Vaughn's way of telling Alistair that he was not going to go through this plan without some sort of guarantee that he would get what payment he had demanded. Or part of it as they were not in Gwent right now.

Hmm. Vaughn was a bit more curious now. It was not that he cared about who she was and how she had gotten herself in this state. He was trying to think of how he could use whatever rank she had to his advantage. That was after all, the motive for all his actions. For a man with no conscience otherwise, it was quite easy to think of only yourself. It was also why Vaughn was still alive. For it certainly was not due to the lack of people trying to kill him. "You have already dug your grave to the deepest level. Now it is up to you whether you will lie in it." Meaning, the moment she had come to him she had endangered her life far greater than it already was. Because in a way, she was fighting a two front battle. One with him. One with Cenred. Who was the more dangerous combatant? That still had yet to be proven. "You should be trying to give me reason to help you. Not defying me questions."

It was not really about defiance; it was just about him rubbing it in her face that she needed his 'help'. Vaughn honestly did not care if people did not answer his questions. Since he never offered any answers in return. Especially when it came to his background. Sometimes, not even a name. "Nor deciding when it is the end of our conversation." Just because he had to gloat a little bit more. And there she was insulting him again. Vaughn laughed at her criticism. Feisty little fireball wasn't she. "Sticks and stones," he said mockingly, obviously not insulted. He had been called far worse. And for him, such words were often taken as a compliment. And then came that question. That open ended question that begged for so many possible answers. So much potential. Sometimes Vaughn did not even know how to answer it because so much could be asked for. He did not fear Cenred, nor did he fear death.

Nor did he believe she was just going to give him whatever he wanted. Once the men were gone, she could make a run for it far easier. And Vaughn would have lost that edge. Perhaps he should scare her a bit more. Keeping one hand gripping her arm, he brought his other hand up to her face. He tucked back a few loose locks of her hair, before grazing her cheek with the back of his hand. Just to see her reaction. Just to see how serious she was. He cocked his head to the side a bit, giving the most suggestive look and smile he could. Filled with perversion. He leaned in, as if he was going to force his lips on to hers, but paused mid way. "If they don't get you..." He repeated, wanting her to finish the sentence. He knew time was short, but that was what added to the fun of the moment. For him anyway.

The nature of their interactions had altered so much. Before when Alistair had suggested kidnapping Isadora, Vaughn needed less than a second. In fact with most of Alistair's, or Vaughn's, ideas the other had been quick to agree to be part of it. In a way, though Vaughn would never admit it as such, they had relied on each other. Combining both their strengths, which canceled out their weaknesses. And it created a strong partnership that made them capable of carrying out the most impossible of crimes. But now, everything had changed. He had been so easily swayed by a woman. Pitiful; pathetic; weak...and there were so many other words that Vaughn could use to describe the druid's relationship with the princess.

It what made Vaughn so defiant right now. There had been enough tension between them and though Vaughn never really did any favors for Alistair in the past, he was far less inclined to go along with his ploys now. "Again, you are wrong Alistair," he said, still smiling. "You do not have to give me anything. I can take whatever I want." Did Alistair truly believe that he could just grant things to Vaughn? Had his newly attained rank made him so arrogant? "I can find violence, death, and women wherever I so wish, whenever I desire. I do not need you to grant me with anything." Vaughn was his own man...the same could not be said for the druid. "But thank you for offering," he added, completely sarcastic; his words meant to taunt him. "You will have to do better than that in trying to convince me." Still humoring him of course; this was all still hypothetical.

If she had been told that many times, then clearly there was a flaw in it. One that he had already acknowledged and perhaps to with the contradiction it presented. "It is a mistake," he said, not using the logic of her generalization. "For you know nothing of what a person is capable of." And soon enough, he would show her. Her next statement was the perfect proof of his point. "That is where you are massively mistaken," he said with a smug grin. It had never been in his nature to kidnap a king. That had all been Alistair's suggestion, and one that Vaughn had gone along with for the fun. But Alistair was the man who planned, Vaughn was the one who got the dirty work done. "It shows how little you know about me. How little you know about my preferences of how I spend my time."

The ransom ploy had been profitable, but unnecessary for Vaughn. It had been the fun of it all that made him want to do it. "Besides, why spend time with a king, when it is a ravishing woman such as yourself, who can truly fulfill my desires and pleasures." And right now, it was her. If she was going to encourage him, he was going to push it until she broke. Or until things escalated to the next level. Either way, it worked in his favor. "No beauty such as the kind you possess makes you, insignificant." His words were not meant as a compliment; for Vaughn hardly ever gave compliments to anyone. It was merely giving credit where credit was due. Why deny what was fact in that her appearance could easily entice and attract a man.

When she then smirked and asked him if he would help her remove it, he was all the more intriuged. And all the more ready to continue whatever this little game they were playing was. "I can help you remove your own clothing," he offered, a pleased and almost eager smile on his lips. "But you will have to remove my armor. For it involves reaching at various angles that I can not very well reach on my own." Again, there was a strong suggestiveness in his voice. But then again, how could this conversation be anything but suggestive? He leaned forward again, as if about to kiss her but paused mere inches between their lips. "Unless you need some encouragement." Such as a kiss. "Or unless you are afraid." Which was again, quite possible. And it all when back to calling her own bluff.

Vaughn could not predict her actions. For all he knew this could be the last face on earth he saw. And at least it was a beautiful one at that. As he felt more of the life drain out of him, knowing that the strong delirium would soon come until he sank to the ground in a lifeless form...she released her violent hold on him. The second the spell was broken, he gasped for the air he had otherwise been deprived from. Coughing a couple of times, finding the luxury of oxygen far more refreshing than ever before, he looked at her. This time, seeing more of her, seeing a glimpse of the abilities she had as a sorcerer. He had encountered enough practitioners of magic to know that they did not stick out; that they looked like everybody else.

Which is why they were so unpredictable, and which was why they often captured Vaughn's attention. This woman managed to intrigue him in two ways now: beauty and power. Fascinating. They way she spoke to him, the way she practically glided towards him, made that smirk of a smile reappear. The fact that he knew his words could cost him his life, aware of the fact that she could snap once again and cause him pain...it made her more enticing to him. It made him want to see how far he could push the limit, or how rewarding the alternative way. "Is it so easy for you to forget something?" He asked, a bit teasingly. Trying to determine how provoked she could be; how far he could push her before that was it.

He knew one thing for certain: he was not quite ready to depart himself from her company. "You have demonstrated to me your power, but to let such beauty go unacknowledged would be such a waste." Meaning, well, implying that he was prepared to do something more than talking. Or having a 'chat' as she put it. He was well aware that his crude comments had the ability to make a woman feel uncomfortable. That was precisely why he said them. But she could be an exception to how other women reacted, or didn't react to his suggestive remarks? He was enjoying her unpredictability thus far, and hoped she continued to intrigue him and maintain his interest.

And there it was. Though she had not given full specifics, it was clear to tell that she was someone of importance. Correction; she was someone who believed that she was of importance. To Vaughn, everyone was the same. But to her, clearly she felt entitled to more respect. "And who may that be?" He asked, as if he was humoring her a little. He found this rather humorous actually. If she was some sort or royal or noblewoman then this most certainly was not the life she was used to. "For I all I see in front of me is a woman who is on the run; who should be trying to get on the good side of her only possibility for aid." Meaning him. But of course there was a bit of a contradiction in these words. For when she had first asked him for his aid, she had done so politely. Now, he expected anything but. Of course, that did not mean he would pass by the opportunity to gloat about such a thing.

Her next words were indeed meant to insult; but to Vaughn, they were true. He would not admit to being something he was not. He would gladly confess all his negative traits. For that was the man he was, the one he remained to be, and the one he would continue to be: the man that he always would be. "Good," he said with a condescending approval and a pleased smile. "Then it means your perception is not entirely skewed." Because, he was a man without so much as a hint of concern or pity; one who takes advantage of an innocent maiden; one who liked to harass people. "I deny nothing that you say," he added, just for a further hint of an attempt to annoy her, wondering if she had tried to make him feel bad. A man with no moral conscience did not grow discouraged by these words. Nor did he take them as a sign and strive to be a better person.

"And out of the two of us, I am the far more honest one. For I am not pretending to be something I am not." Whoever she was, she had made it known that she was not just a simple lower class traveler. She was something higher than this rank. And yet, by withholding her name to this point, she was pretending to be otherwise. It was actually quiet an amusing thing, to go from her telling him off to then pleading to him to not call for the others. How quickly circumstances change, altering a person's nature to better benefit them in such a predicament. Though she covered his mouth, he was smiling. And he was fairly certain that this emotion shone through his eyes with that hint of the humor he found in this situation. He could not speak right away and so winked at her. Before forcefully turning his head to the side so that he could give voice to his thoughts.

"Now you beg?" He asked, obviously exaggerating her plea to a beg. He gave her that 'tsk tsk' look as he shook his head. "A piece of advice to you; do not insult the man who soon find yourself asking favor from." Favor, to be quiet. Which Vaughn was obviously not going to do. He heard the men growing closer, and gripping her arm even tighter, he leered at her, that pleased smile on his lips becoming far more pleased. "You have but a few moments left to convince me why I should help you. What my reward entails." What she would give him in exchange for his 'help'. Which really, was not help at all if he had something greater to benefit for in the end. He did not favors for free for anyone. There had to be something in it for him. This was how one gets by in life. Not by just succumbing to the desperate plea of a damsel.

"You say that now. But we will have to see how the night progresses." Because she may find herself wanting, or needing a weapon at some point. And again, her words of refusal to say that she had never experienced that, bluntly stating it, just made Vaughn want to roll his eyes. Though he refrained from this action. He did not believe her. Everyone at some point had felt at least one of those things. Things that left a person yearning for something more when seeing someone they were particularly attracted to. But if she chose to be stubborn, the Vaughn had nothing more to say on the matter. She would one day see that he was right. And he hoped that when that day came, her mind would return to this conversation and say 'well, that random man locked in a room with me was right.'Her body clearly stiffened once he got closer and even proceeded to put a hand on her.

He laughed at her words; words of repetition. Ones that she just constantly kept repeating. He took a small step back, but it was not meant to grant her comfort. "You keep saying, 'you will have no control over me' or 'you will not lay a hand on me', or 'stay way from me'" he began to say mockingly. "Yet, here I am. In control of the situation. And already laying a hand on you. Clearly not staying away." Amusement was evident in his words. "Your words are empty threats My Lady." As if they even had some warning to them to begin with. "Are you really so naive that you believe just because you say the words out loud, means I will comply?" Now that was quite hilarious. "You really must do a better job warning me off. Giving some reason to stay away rather than just saying it and hoping with a hopeless heart that it comes true." Naive indeed. Especially as she kept insisting that she was capable of more. From what he saw so far, she was only capable of telling him to stay away.

A split second before Alistair charged at him like a bull, Vaughn pulled out his sword. He could easily detect that expression on his face, even if the nomad did not know that he would actually attack him. Unfortunately, the force which he had used to tackle him to the ground caused the sword to slip from his grasp. It was not totally out of reach but the forceful and powerful attack left Vaughn feeling winded, and he could have sworn he heard a cracking. The immediate pain surging through his chest area confirmed it; the druid had broken at least one rib. Vaughn cringed at the intense inward pain but it was numbed by the fact that the druid was not done. "You sought me out!" He told him. It was not anger in Vaughn's tone but a reminder. Whether Alistair had come to him to demand he tell him who he has told about his true identity, or specifically Asher, or even if it had nothing to do with just knowing who Vaughn had spilled his secret to. Either way, the point of the matter was so that Alistair remembered that he somehow needed Vaughn.

But it was of course difficult to stop a bull midway through its charge with just mere words. This brought back to memory their last encounter where Alistair had attacked him for having had a friendly chat with Isadora. He had broken his jaw for it, and judging from what Alistair was going for now, Vaughn had a strong feeling he was going to do the same thing. Keeping his eye on Alistair so that the druid would hopefully be too distracted to notice where Vaughn's hand was going, Vaughn reached for the handle of his sword, which was thankfully not too far. Where Alistair had the advantage of raw strength and not as much skill with a sword...well, one man's weakness was another man's strength. Granted, right now it was not exactly skill that would spare Vaughn, but the opportune position.

When Alistair's balled fist was midway, ready to pound of Vaughn's jaw...an injury that Vaughn was trying to avoid since it was a great hindrance to have a broken jaw...he felt the hilt of his sword, picked it up and angled the blade so that the sharp edge of it was on the side of Alistair's neck. It was the best angle Vaughn could get right now instead of putting it right on his throat. But the side of his neck would prove to be of equal thread. He even began to press the blade into Alistair's neck hoping the man's skin wasn't so thick so that the weapon would cut his skin, even if it was just a little. Enough to draw blood at least. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he quickly added tauntingly, a slight gleam of amusement returning to his gaze. If he broke his jaw then Vaughn would slit his throat. Simple as that.