The guards take me into the castle, there's a big gold chair at the back of the room, there's a long table with plates of food on it. There's no one but the five guards and I in this room, but we aren't there for long, because they take me through a hallway on the left, down stairs, then through a door. The room we are in now is stone, with some water on the cold stone floor. They put me in a room with bars as walls, then close and lock the door.
"Filthy dunmer scum...probably killed the poor princess.." one guard with black hair and emerald green eyes says, then walks to a chair and sits. The others laugh and leave.
I look down and sit, hugging my knees. "When will Si- um..I-I mean, my husband be here?"
"I don't know, why don't you ask him? Oh wait..." they erupt with laughter.
I sigh and look around. There's a bear pelt, I guess that's used for a bed. I don't want to lay on it though, because there's multiple stains on it. The guard has calmed down now, and is staring at me. I look at them for a moment, then back up and look down.
"Do you know magic?"
"No, sir..."
"Hmm...do you know how to wield a sword? Dagger? Bow?"
I shake my head.
"Still could have used poison..."
I hug my knees tighter and shiver. "Why won't he hurry...maybe he doesn't care..." I think, the guard snaps me out of my thoughts with another question.
"What's your husband's name?"
"Albaynion...Sir Albaynion."
"What is his job?"
"I...um...I don't know.."
"You're his slave, aren't you?"
"No! Not at all..."
"Dark elf marries noble and doesn't know their job, how to wield any weapon, or spells, and is very skinny. Hmm."
"Well most ladies aren't that talented with weapons and we recently met and married. Usually dark elves aren't accepted in towns or kingdoms and when they are, they are treated like dirt, and most likely are turned away for jobs, or don't get paid enough to eat. So I would like you to be quiet, good sir."
"Damn...I like smart girls."
"I'm 'filthy dunmer scum', don't you remember?"
"That was a joke sweetheart..."
"Leave me alone." I look away, and a guard comes in. "Sir!! That man is here! He has a sword and is challenging the prince first! He requests that the dunmer is there to witness it!"
My heart stops for a moment, then I stand, staring hard at the black haired guard as they stand and open the door. I walk out and am escorted to the room with the big golden chair. Someone with a large crown is on the chair, they have very fancy clothes and a lot of jewelry. Sir and the man from the market are in the large, empty space between the door and the large table. Sir is wearing boots that come to his knees, brown pants and a loose, silky, white shirt, a black, old cloak over it, that goes to his knees.
Sir looks to me and smiles wide, I notice that is teeth look...different. Maybe sharper...
The man on the golden chair clears his throat, then looks at the two men in the empty space. "This is a fair duel with only swords, or daggers. NOT enchanted. No magic, bows, or traps. You may not cut off arms, legs, and if you do you will be sent to the dungeon, and you may not kill your opponent, Sir Albaynion. If your sword is knocked out of your hand, you loose. If you are pinned down, you loose. If you are touched with the sword in a way that would kill you, you loose. For example, cut the opponent's neck slightly and you win. Same rules will be set if you fight me, Sir Albaynion."
"WHEN I fight you, king."
The man with the big crown scoffs. "Get ready men, the fight begins...now." The man puts one elbow on each arm of the gold chair, interlocking his his fingers and placing his head on them.
"Watch out prince, I'm not a training dummy, and that's not a wooden sword."
The man, who I'm pretty sure is the prince, seems to be having trouble unsheathing his sword. "Why can't I..."
Sir lunges forward and turns on his heel, then moves behind the prince and swings his sword in a motion where you would think he's going to behead him, then stops just in time, his sword cutting the side of his neck, but not doing any large harm.
"Ow!!" the prince backs away and unsheathes his sword. "You could have killed me!" he raises the sword and points it towards Sir.
"Then that means I win." Sir smirks.
"That...is true..get ready for our fight, Sir Albaynion...you have failed, son."
Sir gets a wicked smile on his face. "May I fight you with daggers, king? It's my...specialty."
"You may...if you have them on you."
Sir puts his sword down and grabs two daggers from sheaths beneath his cloak. The blades is black and sharp, they seem to be glowing red.
"Those are enchanted."
"Nope. Just my special, one of a kind blades."
"Hmm. We will see..." The king walks into the empty room and the prince hands him the sword, then stomps away. The king points the sword at Sir.
Sir stands causally, his arms low and loosely holding the daggers.
"He's planning something..." I think, I've been carefully watching the whole time, silent.
