Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ To Overcome ❯ Will you train me? ( Chapter 4 )

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"His forces have moved into position to take the southern borders of Gallbreada, once he is conquered it's a strait run to our borders." The loud murmuring of a hundred voices made themselves known at the end of that statement; some giving their strategic opinion, others refuting the possibility, all annoying.

It was the day after the coronation and the twins were sitting through their first official meeting as emperors. The most pressing news seemed to be that Brude the Celt, not even a king, was forcing his army of barbarians upon Gallbreada's borders, and threatening the smaller country that was on the south east border of Damzeer.

Najja decided it was best not to sleep through theses kinds of meetings, and found his decision to be both bothersome and wise; treaties required that Damzeer come to Gallbreada's aid, and common sense said to stop the attack before it reached Damzeer's border, but something about the whole situation felt wrong.

Najja stood and addressed the advisors. "We will adjourn to the war room, you, generals and tacticians will accompany us, and the rest of you stay here and give our brother the other news of our country." Royal etiquette required him to speak of himself in the plural, something he found greatly annoying.

He turned to look at his brother and could see the complete boredom in his eyes, if Akil found the talk of war boring he would most definitely find the troubles of merchants even duller. He bowed very slightly to Tom and exited the room, his generals and military tacticians rose and bowing low the high emperor followed Bill out.


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Once again the singing of blades filled the air, but this time there was no crowd of revellers, leering at the combatants, nor the stress of performing in front of a man you had recently been given in marriage to, and who you found beyond attractive.

Cairine seemed to have adjusted well, she was smiling most of the time, and whenever they paused for a break in their training she would talk incessantly about her lord.

How his hands were large and warm, how she had not expected such pleasure from her husband, especially after their mother's warning of the brutality of most men. She spoke of how his eyes sparkled, and how he would lick his lips. It was only three hours into the day and Aislin was sure she could list off all of the high emperor's good qualities without having to stop and think.

On the other hand she knew almost nothing about her own husband, she had spent two nights in his company and the only physical contact he had initiated was to kiss her chastely upon the lips after her and her sister's fight; it was humiliating and she dared not tell her sister that she remained untouched, especially after some of the things Cairine had told her.

Did he find her unattractive? In her country she had been highly sought after, but no suitor had been able to defeat her brother. Brude was a formidable warrior, large in stature and smart; his girth often slowed him down, but only Aislin and her siblings were aware of that, she was the only person to ever bring him to his knees, and only because she had worn him out with her evasions, if she hadn't been so quick and light on her feet he would have won that match within the first few seconds.

A commotion at the fighting compound's doors caused the girls to pause in their fight, a procession could be seen, and at its head was her husband. They were still far enough away that she didn't need to bow just yet, and so she watched him walk towards her.

He held his head high and walked with purpose; his hair was flat today, not up in it's lion mane style, she found she liked his hair down better. His features were unlike any she had seen before; His colouring was like that of the dark Irish, pale skin with dark hair and eyes, but while her people tended towards more elfin qualities, such as pointed ears and round laughing faces, he seemed more ethereal, his face was long and lean, his nose straight without an upturn nor a droop, and his cheek bones were flatter than hers, giving his face a feline quality.

As he drew closer she cut off her study of his features, to bow deeply, her sister following slightly after.

He stopped in front of her and she could hear him speak to one of his entourage, his voice was breathy and warm in tone, the sounds in his language were so close to her own, yet she could not place any of the words.

When he finished speaking, he took her hand softly and helped her to her feet and once she was standing, he addressed his men once more before all but one left and Cairine handed her blades to Aislin's husband.

In the confusion Aislin wondered for a moment that she still did not know his name, she knew his father had called him by it but she could not remember it, only that it was an odd name.

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She dumbfounded him, during her fight with her sister she seemed so alive and defiant, but as soon as he stepped into the sunlight and the guards had called their recognition she had humbled herself, stood stock still and then bowed low as he approached. She seemed to fear him, but her sister seemed to have gotten past such emotions as her actions showed only respect. 

He planned to train with her for a short while today, she was a Celt, as was his new enemy, and though he could not communicate directly with her, he had a translator stay so he could get what knowledge from her he could while learning her unique style of fighting as best as possible in the short time that would be provided.

Once the sparring ground had been cleared of all but the essential guards and the one translator, he removed his outer coat revealing his dark leather armour that he used when training, finding that the heavy iron and leather armour that most soldiers wore, restricted his movements too much, he relied on his strength and agility to see his way unharmed through a fight.

While he did not really enjoy fighting, he took his role of champion seriously if not enthusiastically, he would be the best, he would prove himself worthy, he would defeat the threat to his country, and he would do it with his own hands. If training with his new bride would help him on his way then he would, he only hoped she would lighten up enough to make this go easier.

"Ask her to fight with me," he commanded the young male servant who spoke both the Celt's language and his own. The boy spoke his commands clearly to the redheaded princess, and Najja watched amazed as she smiled brightly at the boy, and then turned those still shining eyes upon him, and spoke one word a word that was easily recognizable.

"Yes."