The Baron of Svaneti

Beams of gentle golden light filter through the dark clouds above, bathing patches of this devastated and ashen land in a hopeful hue.

The fighting came to an end many, many hours ago.

Those left in charge of the Duke’s army weren’t the most willing to put down their blades and leave his death unpunished. Luckily, being reminded of the reality that Volhynia now faces was enough to change most of their minds. Whether by duty and the wish to defend their land from those who will no doubt take advantage of the Duke’s absence, or because they want to seize power themselves... It honestly doesn’t matter. Not as long as they leave.

And most of them already have. Though a worrying amount of men still remain in their encampments... But they should all be gone before the sun sets tomorrow.

By then, the survivors of this siege should all have emerged from the shelters they’ve holed up in. Already so many have left the safety of cellars or churches or simple stone houses to find that their homeland still stands, if bloodied and broken. And it is only a matter of time until those who fled return as well.

A heavy weight rests on Krvavy’s shoulders. Her muscles are sore, her joints ache, and even her bones hurt a bit. Each step she takes on this cobbled street sends unpleasant pangs arcing through her legs. But she does her best to hide that discomfort. She’ll be able to properly rest soon enough.

“Rrrhhhnh...”

Krvavy glances back over her shoulder, towards the source of that annoyed grumbling. The corners of her lips curl upwards ever so slightly. The sight she sees renews her energy and fills her with life.

The bridge of Khalia’s nose is a little crinkly, her face scrunched into a slight scowl as she is forced to breathe in the slightly smokey scent that still lingers in the air. Her armour, scant as it is, only adds to her annoyance, those metal plates and leather straps clinging so tightly to a body that is used to being completely naked. That she has also been burdened with a rather heavy backpack, and been made to carry the other in her paw-like hands, isn’t helping with this puppy’s sour mood.

Unable to resist, the Drakling’s gaze finds itself dropping down. Just below that buff belly, its swarthy green skin decorated with angular and inactive runic lines, lies a wonderfully lewd mark. A thorny heart of amber and orange. It is almost perfectly framed by this Were-Beast’s scandalously skimpy leather ‘shorts’ and the thong-like straps that rise over those wide hips, its outward reaching arms covered just a little. That it stands above the black-brown bush peeking free from those panties only makes that an even more beautiful and alluring sight~...

{reveal "Authors Note:"} Here is Khalia in (most of) her armour with her lewd mark on display... and with her collar! Do note that this image is missing the runes still painted onto her and both of the backpacks.
Also, because why not, here is Khalia with just her collar and mark.{endreveal}

“Rrgh... Mate...” A somewhat threatening growl drags those emerald eyes back up to that adorably grumpy face. If Khalia weren’t such a good girl, then she would surely demand to be let free from the constraints of her armour. Assuming she hadn’t already taken it off herself.

“We’re in civilized lands now, so you have to remain covered up.” Krvavy delivers that bad news with a remorseful smile. She gets a toothy, snarled scowl in return. “Honestly, you prob– no. You are definitely not wearing enough. So be thankful that you’re getting away with this. You could always be like me, barely showing any skin at all...”

The Were-Beast winces at that just the thought of being subjected to such torture.

“Adeline, give her a pat on the head for me.”

“Eeeie...!” That Halfling squeaks in surprise, as she always does when unexpectedly addressed, yet still she goes to fulfill her Draconic fiancée’s request. Careful to not fall out of the backpack she is sitting in, the bunny-mouse girl reaches up and... begins to gently massage the backs and bases of Khalia’s fluffy ears. Which is not quite what she was told to do. But it is better, so no one will complain.

The sound of a shaggy tail swishing back and forth against the underside of that backpack brings a genuine smile to Krvavy’s face.

The soft and delicate fingers interlocked with her own suddenly give this Drakling’s hand a firm squeeze. She stops looking back over her shoulder... only to so very nearly stumble as she sees over a dozen men standing further ahead. A mix of soldiers and militia.

A deep red hue begins to colour Krvavy’s snowy skin, pale cheeks rivalling her crimson hair in how brightly they are burning.

She is suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the outfit that her first fiancée has made her wear. The very same one she wore for Adeline’s birthday. Some noble and dignified clothes, according to that brat, which help to make her seem like more than just a psychopathic battle-hungry barbarian.

But that whole getup is also rather revealing.

Not only is she showing off as much cleavage as is physically possible, her tits squished together by both her shirt and formfitting jacket, but her pants are also incredibly tight. Too tight. Her loincloth usually hides the fact that she has a cock. But the prominent bulge she is bearing very much does not. Even the ridges lining that oversized rod are visible, if only one were to look close enough...

“Hmph.” Thea lifts her chin and gives Krvavy’s hand another squeeze, having more than enough experience handling the Dragon that she has agreed to marry to know exactly what is bothering that barbarian. “You look great. Even with those new scars...”

Krvavy grimaces slightly, unable to ignore the visible line crossing from one of her big breasts to the other, ruining this view of her cleavage. Her princess was less than happy to see that new scar, though that girl was far more bothered by the smaller one that now rests on her face. But Beryl... Krvavy is genuinely worried about how her sweet berry will react to the many new lines that now mar her body.

The light clicking of Thea’s wooden heels striking this uneven stone road suddenly comes to a stop. Her other hand quickly grabs at the Drakling’s wrist, holding it tight.

Concern clings to Krvavy’s heart. She immediately halts her advance, taking a step to the side and protectively standing in front of her Thea, meaty tail twisting around that girl’s body. She narrows her eyes and stares at the men ahead. They are responsible for this, for the unease that her –...!

“Hhhh...” Thea audibly inhales... and pushes past the Drakling, fingers still clinging onto that reassuring hand. “Brother.” Her icy and firm voice carries across this partially ruined street.

The soldier standing at the front of the others is utterly unbothered by that harsh and unfriendly tone. “Sister.” He bobs his head in greeting. The fading sunlight brushes across his swollen and bruised eye. It looks a bit better than it did last night, when Krvavy saved him and the men he led from being executed. “It... is good to see you.” There isn’t much emotion to those words, his feelings buried beneath military professionalism. “We were worried that you had died.”

Silence hangs in the air for a good long second before the noble girl responds to her sibling. “With everything that happened here... I... I feared the same for you, for Father and Mother, for the others.”

“I would be dead,” that beautiful brat’s brother bluntly states, “if not for the... Drakling... by your side.” His sky blue eyes briefly glance at the Were-Beast looming behind the taller barbarian, before properly turning towards Krvavy. “You have my thanks. Now come, the Baron awaits.”

Thea pulls on her Draconic fiancée’s hand, leading Krvavy – and Khalia as well – along this winding road, following her stern brother.

The rest of the soldiers and militiamen spread around them, providing some unnecessary protection.

Krvavy catches the tip of her tongue between her teeth, stopping herself from speaking aloud. Her emerald eyes briefly turn towards the simple silver and black band resting comfortably around her lower right horn. ⟨Is... he always like that...?⟩

A soft sigh passes through Thea’s kissable lips. ⟨Nikolas? Yes.⟩ That short answer carries with it a bitterness that she doesn’t even bother to hide.

The Drakling faintly frowns, turning just her head to look down at this little princess walking by her side.

Thea is as beautiful as always. Not even the uncertain and almost worried scowl that fills her face can change that. Neither can the crude deerskin draped over her shoulders and wrapped around her body as if it were a simple cloak.

With the fires put out and Svaneti no longer ablaze... there is nothing to push back the chilly autumn air. And while it isn’t cold enough to bother Krvavy, Khalia, or even some of the men currently escorting them, it is too cold for a delicate girl like Thea to comfortably bear. That she is only wearing a sundress and sandals does not help.

⟨If you’d like...⟩ Krvavy’s scaled fingers softly squeeze the tender hand they’re holding tight. ⟨I can carry you the rest of the way.⟩

The noble girl slowly turns her head side to side, looking at the loosely packed and mostly intact buildings that line this road. ⟨No, you have done that enough today. We are not far from...⟩ Her mentally projected voice trails off, unwilling to call their destination her home.

Krvavy lightly chews on the inside of her cheek. After a moments thought, she lifts her right arm up a bit – still keeping hold of Thea’s hand – and drapes it over her first fiancée’s shoulder, pulling that beautiful brat close.

A light huff is the only response Thea gives to that.

The sound of marching feet, of boots striking the cobblestone street, echoes around this otherwise silent procession. Shouted words can be heard in the distance, calmer and friendlier than the voices that called out last night, accompanied by hammers driving nails into wood and the cacophonous crashing of ruined buildings being collapsed.

Svaneti... looks very different during the day, without the smoke and the ash filling the air, without the fire and flames obscuring all beyond them. It is not in a good state. Not by any means. But neither is all lost. Plenty of buildings and people have survived, enough to continue on.

Trees without leaves, some charred but most simply ready for the coming winter, dot the land. Some stand as parts of orchards, others stand in lines separating different plots of property, a few appear to simply be decorative...

Then there are the fields, of which there are a surprising amount within the town proper... Though of course they become fewer and further between the closer they get to the center of Svaneti, that space taken up by more buildings. But most of those fields aren’t plowed. Barely any crops have been grown on them. Instead they are left as grassy pastures. There are even some sheep out and about.

This place would be quite nice, calm and quaint, if not for that damned Duke...

Thea’s grip on the Drakling’s hand tightens for just a moment, loosening only after it gets a reassuring squeeze in response.

Further ahead rises a tall stone wall. And behind it, visible even at the angle of this hill, rests a castle with differently shaped towers rising around a section capped by a peaked roof. Their destination. The home of Thea’s family.

The noble girl only grows more tense and anxious as they pass through an outer gatehouse void of portcullis’ and actual gates. The militiamen escorting them stay at that point, following no further, while the soldiers led by Thea’s brother continue on.

Countless people are moving about within the safety of this castle’s curtain walls, but unlike last night very few are soldiers. Or at least they aren’t armed and armoured. Some of those people are cleaning up the mess left by that invading army, removing the debris of what used to be buildings and getting to work on constructing replacements. Though most simply seem to be those who lost their homes and need some temporary shelter. Plenty of thick tents have been set up for that purpose, and many more are in the process of being pitched.

Far too many eyes follow this entourage, lingering on Krvavy and Khalia more than anyone else.

A new wooden bridge crosses the dry moat, creaking beneath the weight of those passing over it. Charred pieces of the previous one lie broken in that ditch below.

Krvavy finds herself glancing up as she steps into the keep. There are a number of slits and murder holes set into the ceiling above. Quite a few appear to have been blocked by bits of metal that have embedded themselves into the stone. Darkness hangs through the ones that remain open, keeping whatever lies above hidden and out of sight.

“Hhhh...” Thea takes a deep breath, her dainty fingers slipping free from her Draconic lover’s grasp. She nods her head towards the Were-Beast currently lugging around their backpacks as she steps past the spot where Krvavy killed two of the Duke’s men last night, entering a space that appears to be serving as a waiting room.

“Eeeeeiie...” Adeline can’t help but squeak as the much bigger barbarian gently grabs her beneath the shoulders, lifting her up and then safely settling her down on the ground. The tiny blonde shrinks into herself, unable to avoid the curious and idle gazes of those random strangers milling about in this room. That she is wearing nearly the same sundress as the daughter to the lord of these lands only makes that worse... in her mind. “Th-thanks...” She quietly mumbles through her floppy bunny ears, already hiding behind those soft and velvety things. Her fur-tipped tail twists and coils around the Drakling’s much meatier one.

Without a word, Thea shrugs off the pelt that was keeping her warm, passing it to Krvavy who quickly rolls it up and places it in the spot Adeline was just sitting.

Khalia leans into her Mate’s hand, enjoying that quick pat on the head as best she can.

Nikolas stands beside a flickering fireplace, his men passing through an open door to the right. Once he sees that the odd group his younger sister has gathered are ready, he opens the left and ushers them through to the hall beyond.

Thea lifts her head high and steps around a supporting pillar. Only to freeze in place.

Sitting on a simple wooden throne at the far end of this room, nestled between two thin and highly placed windows which are letting in the golden light of the setting sun, is a man hardly more than a decade older than that noble girl. His eyes shine the same blue as her own, his chin-length hair the same blonde. A loose tunic, trimmed with silver and quartered in blue both light and dark, rests around his torso.

Even without his mildly obscuring nasal helm or the rest of his armour, he is recognizable as the very same man who Krvavy negotiated with last night. The one who fought the Duke’s knights as a relative equal and who was even called a princeling by that dead bastard.

“Dimitrios...?” Thea softly breathes out the name of her eldest brother, confusion clear on her face.

The hem of a modest white dress, its coarse woollen fabric decorated with patterned red flowers, swishes across the stone floor as the older woman wearing it steps back from that wooden throne. She bows her head. “Thank you, my Baron.”

Just hearing that title is enough to make Thea flinch. “Dimitrios,” she calls again, louder and with far more worry.

The Baron of Svaneti rises to his feet and, showing an apologetic smile to the next person who was waiting to speak with him, descends down the short step that separates his seat from the rest of this hall. The broad-bladed sword sheathed in a scabbard that hangs from his belt repeatedly bumps into his leg as he passes by plenty of other people, stopping more than a few paces away from that beautiful blonde and her companions. “Theadosia,” warmth fills his voice as he addresses his youngest sibling and only sister. “It is a relief to see –”

“Where is Father...?!” A tinge of panic underlines the noble girl’s slightly shrill voice. Her body trembles, even as some strong scaled fingers gently grab at her shoulder and get straight to giving her a reassuring massage. “Is –?!”

Dimitrios holds up a hand, halting those frantic words. “Father is alive, though not well. He was gravely wounded during the fight. Even with alchemical aid and help from your...” He pauses for a long moment, glancing towards the scandalously dressed Drakling with considerably less warmth in his eyes, before looking back to his sister. “And help from your friend... Father will need time to recover as best he can. Until then, I am serving as Baron in his stead.”

The faintest of smiles plays at Krvavy’s pale lips, which Thea quickly catches as she looks up at her Draconic lover. “What!?” That noble girl hisses, crossing her arms beneath her breasts and glaring into those affectionate emerald eyes.

A single strand of silver-blonde hair is brushed away from that adorably pouty face. “I just think it’s sweet that you care so much about your family~.”

“I am not worried!” The bratty girl’s wooden heel clacks into the smooth stone ground, her cheeks flushing red as she slips up slightly. “I...! I just wish to berate him for trying to marry me off to that bastard you put down last night! And I cannot do that if the old man is dead!”

“You have not changed a bit, have you?”

Thea’s attention snaps back towards her eldest brother. “What is that supposed to mean!?”

Dimitrios simply smiles and shakes his head, declining the demand to explain himself. “Some guest rooms have already been prepared for your companions,” he states, gesturing for a servant to step forth. “They will –”

“No.” That single word silences the acting Baron, his sister’s bratty attitude disappearing in an instant. “No,” Thea firmly repeats herself, “these three will be staying with me, in my room.”

A tinge of concern fills that man’s face, blue eyes darting between the Drakling who didn’t make the best first impression and the Were-Beast whose mere presence is unnerving all those around her. He completely ignores the poor Halfling hiding behind a strong leg sheathed in fabric that is far too tight. “Are you –?”

“This,” Thea drags the poor bunny-mouse girl into view, “is my handmaiden.”

Adeline’s big hazel-brown eyes go wide as she learns that fact alongside everyone else.

“That,” Thea points at Khalia, letting the shocked Halfling scurry back into the shelter provided by their shared lover’s meaty tail. “That is my personal guard, my loyal protector. And this...” Her fingers hook onto a single slightly curled horn, pulling the much taller Drakling’s head down towards her own. Their lips briefly meet. “Krvavy is...” An intense blush fills Thea’s face as she only now seems to remember that there are plenty of other people in this hall, all of which just witnessed that quick kiss. Her confidence begins to waver. “She is my saviour. She is your saviour too, slaying the Duke when no one else could! And I will... I will not be parted from her...! Nor the others...!”

If not for the hushed whispers, some scandalized and others eagerly indulging in fresh gossip, then this large audience chamber would be utterly silent.

The eldest brother to that bold brat takes a moment to speak, his lightly bearded jaw set. “Very well.” He reluctantly relents, all too aware of the many eyes on this encounter. “Go and settle yourselves in. I will be up shortly, to show you to Father.” He steps to the side and looks past that odd group his sister has gathered. “Nikolas, a word?”

Thea grabs onto Krvavy’s hand and hastily leads the Drakling over to the door all the way across from the one they entered through. The hinges squeal as she forces open that heavily damaged thing, quickly shoving Adeline and Khalia through before swiftly closing it behind her. “Haaaaahhhh...!”

Krvavy leans in and plants a loving kiss on the forehead of her overwhelmed fiancée. “You did great back there~.” She warmly coos, strong fingers so carefully cupping a flushed cheek. “So very brave and –”

“N-not here...!” Thea pushes the praising barbarian back and all but scrambles up the spiral staircase, leaving the others no choice but to hurry after her.

“Eeeip...!” The bottom-heavy bunny-mouse girl squeaks in surprise as she is scooped up into the Drakling’s strong arms, saving her the trouble of climbing these steps, which are quite tall... for a girl as short as her.

The Halfling’s dark-blonde brow furrows a bit as she is brought face-to-face with the most prominent of her Draconic fiancée’s new scars, only rivalled by the significantly smaller one crossing Krvavy’s nose. Her little fingers trail along that pale line, jumping across a valley of squished cleavage, as she so very closely inspects it.

A rather red hue colours Krvavy’s cheeks as she follows her first fiancée through the banquet hall she hardly paid attention to last night. Though rather than head through the side door as she did before, they instead climb the stairs that were previously blocked with chairs, chairs that have been returned to that grand table.

With a light bob of her head, the barbarian lets her Were-Beast take her place directly behind their brat. Krvavy’s meaty tail is just a bit too long: it kept bumping into Khalia in that spiral staircase. That poor puppy already has to deal with all their luggage, so no need to make all of this harder for her. Plus...

The hem of Thea’s sundress rather dramatically swishes around her thighs, giving just the faintest glimpse of her ass as she steps onto some solid floorboards and hurries along that balcony walkway.

If only Krvavy wasn’t quite so tall... Or... she could have just ducked, even if that would have smothered Adeline in her tits... Which, really, is just another reason to have done so...

“Hmnh...!” The silver-blonde brat grimaces a little as she is forced to use a fair bit of her strength to get the next door opened, her shoulder pressing into that apparently rather heavy thing, struggling to pull its stiff handle down. Only for it to rather suddenly give, getting thrown open with a bit of a bang. “Hmph! Stupid thing...!” She hisses in annoyance, rushing though it and quickly darting off to the left.

Krvavy lightly shakes her head as she closes that door behind her.

The Drakling’s emerald eyes trail across the hallway they have found themselves in, closed doors lining the wall across from the one they just entered from. But that isn’t where her anxious brat has run off to. Taking a few steps forwards and then turning to the left once again leads into a really quite cozy living room, filled with cushioned chairs and couches surrounding an empty fireplace.

“Come on...!” Thea impatiently whines, standing by the foot of another staircase a fair bit beyond all of that.

Just how tall is this place...? Surely they’re near the top by now... right...? Krvavy really hopes so. The exhaustion of these past few days – of this past week even – is starting to weigh on her in a way that is difficult to ignore.

That silver-blonde girl hardly waits for her fiancée before swiftly ascending this next, and ideally last, set of stairs... only to hesitate at the top. At the edge of what appears to be a rather large reading room, with bookshelves and padded seats. Her soft-blue gaze lingers all the way across that room, not to the windows lining the far wall or what appears to be an exit out onto a proper balcony, but on a door just to the right of those. She shakes her head. “This way...” Thea sighs, turning left and heading down yet another hallway.

But at least it isn’t more stairs...

Krvavy squints into the light of the setting sun, those bright golden beams spilling in from a tall and wide window far ahead.

A single long carpet, soft and decorated with floral patterns, stretches down this long hallway, covering most of the hardwood floor beneath and leaving bare only a sliver by each flanking wall. Tapestries depicting scenic views of mountains and woodlands hang from those plastered walls, interspersed with ones showing buildings styled not unlike those that stood and still stand here in Svaneti.

Thea stops in front of the second door to the right. She takes a deep breath and tentatively opens it.

Beyond is a dimly lit bedroom, a rather big one at that... Just not compared to what Krvavy has grown used to. The massive moss-covered bed in the home that she built is bigger than this entire room. And neither is it as large as Rina’s bedroom.

But it is still quite nice.

With a thud, Khalia places down the backpack she had been carrying. The one on her back soon follows. Adeline makes a slightly sad sound as she too is placed on the ground, a soft carpet squishing beneath her little bunny paw feet.

Thea slips out of her sandals, leaving those wood heels by the door, and steps over to the nearest wall-mounted light. A gentle tap at its base brings to life a soft white flame encased in a glass bulb. “Sooo...” She nervously nibbles on her bottom lip, closing the door behind her lovers... and then bolting it shut for good measure. “What... what do you think...?”

“Well...” Krvavy steps forwards, trailing a finger atop the polished surface of a nice vanity, the round silver mirror of which shows a perfect reflection. Not a speck of dust is present. Not there, not on the comfortable chair seated before it, and not anywhere else in this room. “This whole place is bigger than I expected. I thought it’d be a thick tower or some sort of fortified house. But... this is a castle. An actual and proper castle. I guess I wasn’t wrong in calling you my little princess, huh~?”

A rich red hue colours that beautiful noble girl’s cheeks, her brow furrowed and lips pursed into an adorable pout. “No, that is not... Ugh...! I meant my room...!” Her exasperation doesn’t last long, quickly replaced by nervousness. “W-what do you think of it...?” She hesitantly asks, fiddling with her Far-Speaking ring.

Uninterested in any form of conversation, and knowing better than to even attempt to remove her armour, Khalia immediately begins nosing about. Her paw-like hands slowly pull apart some thick blue drapes, revealing a rather sizable four-poster bed. She bares her sharp teeth and pointy tusks in a predatory grin, amber-gold eyes almost glowing as she spots a plethora of plushies resting by and around the big pillows at its head.

“Eeeeeiie...!” As she does, Adeline lets out a squeak as the Were-Beast picks her up, showing her those cute little stuffed animals. Mostly sheep and lambs, by the look of it.

Thea’s blush only grows brighter, despite how hard she is trying to ignore those two.

A soft smile plays at Krvavy’s lips as passes by a dresser and a large wardrobe, stepping from one thick carpet to another. Her palm presses into the relatively thin strip of wall – painted light blue above and dark blue below a band of wood trimming that crosses a little below the height of her hips – between fireplace and curtained alcove. Leaning forwards just a little, she idly looks through the window towards the rooftop below. It is flat, surrounded by crenellated walls. And there seems to be a garden down there too...

“W-well...?” Thea’s voice wavers as the lingering silence leaves her increasingly anxious.

Krvavy turns away from that window alcove, the tip of her tail nearly touching the padded bench that rests within. Her smiles widens as she spots both Adeline and Khalia poking around in the pile of plushies. “I like it.” She honestly admits, gently grabbing onto her beautiful brat’s slightly trembling hands. “Though it is very blue~.”

“These are... the colours of Svaneti...” The silver-blonde noble girl bashfully mutters back, finding herself unable to meet the Drakling’s gaze.

Those emerald eyes briefly glance up towards the sloped ceiling. Sturdy wooden trusses stretch from wall to wall, helping to hold up the roof above, and from those beams dangle various little decorations, pieces of silver and gold that glimmer in the light. “And those stars~?” Krvavy leans in towards her little princess, close enough to leave a kiss atop that silver-blonde head. “Are they –~?

Thmp...! Thmp...! Thmp...!

Flustered and embarrassed, Thea swiftly pulls away from that teasing Dragon, hurrying over to the door. Quickly and with just a bit of fumbling, she unbolts and opens it.

Her rather disciplined brother, Nikolas, stands in the hallway beyond. “Father is ready to see you now.” He plainly states, speaking in a steady and almost entirely emotionless tone. A soldier through and through.

Thea lifts her chin high, looking defiant as she openly scowls at the implication of those words.