To Love, Once Again

Lucien stood outside Lord Norwood's estate, murmuring to Aslan. The large warhorse's ears constantly flicked around as he pawed at the ground, hungry for some action.

Aslan nickers at someone's arrival.

Next to him, Gaer dismounts off a borrowed horse with a grace that seems strange coming from his rough appearance of grown-out blonde beard and simple peasant clothes.

"You call? Your bird wake me up" Gaer grunts out in his signature thick accent, rubbing his back and wincing. It's been a while since he'd last ridden a horse. He'd forgotten how it used a different set of muscles from what his body had grown used to.

"Yes." Lucien turns to him while Gaer was busy adjusting the belt of his pants, making sure it fit around his hips.

When the large hawk had let out a piercing cry outside his tent as he laid next to his sleeping wife, Gaer hadn't had the chance to check in the dark whether the belt holding his pants up was buckled in place. He hadn't even been able to bring his beloved pipe.

"I need your help, Gaer" Lucien glances down at the Azai man, giving him a firm handshake in greeting.

"With what?" Gaer squints his dark green eyes.

"Tracking."

Gaer's mouth forms into a thin line when he hears that word.

"We humble people. Azai hunt animal only." Shaking his head, he turns to leave.

"Of course, I can offer you compensation." Gesturing to the cart behind him, Lucien pulls back the tarp covering, revealing the mounds of luscious furs the knights had worked to bring out from Lord Norwood's secret cellar.

Gaer's eyes widen at the sight of the snow white fur. "Where did you get this!?"

His hand shakes as he reaches towards the beautiful snow-cat furs. These cats, called the Aubin by his people, were sacred to the Azai. Not even to the Azai, but the Azark nation as a whole knew not to hunt these beautiful, feral creatures. Hunting them was forbidden, as they were thought to bring good luck if spotted. Each Azai child would track one Aubin cat down as part of their rites of passage. The Azai believed that a few days of observing the cats brought enlightenment to the children on their nomadic way of life.

"Wait." Lucien steps between the wagon and Gaer.

To see the furs stacked up like this was enough to make any grown Azai cry out in anguish. Lucien knew this too. Which was why he'd had them brought out immediately in preparation for Gaer's arrival.

The Azai were extremely secretive about their tracking skills, but Lucien had known. Some Azai youths had participated in the beginnings of the Great War, tracking down Lucien and his men over rivers and in the pouring rain, through storms and windy days that would make any other tracker give up. The Azai would always find them, no matter the conditions, like magic. Lucien knew it was some sort of magic. His trusted instinct told him so.

He ignores Gaer's growl, looking unperturbed when the shorter blonde man's thick fingers rest upon his war hammer.

"I consider myself a fair man. And the safety of my family and nations are at stake."

Gaer relaxes his grip. The King of Thornmere wanted to barter with the Chief of the Azai then.

Lucien points back to the wagon. "The furs in exchange for tracking down a human."

One red-haired, heavily built, tall man looks down upon a shorter, but no less built, grizzled tribesman. A long pause, as the furrows in the Azai man's brows deepen.

Lucien's face was blank. He knew what the outcome of this exchange would be.

Gaer's shoulders sag as he sighs heavily, signaling his defeat.

"You have something to track with?" He asks holding out his rough palm out to Lucien without meeting his eyes.

"Here." Something in a wet bag gets dropped in Gaer's palm.

"Will this be enough?"

"More than enough, King." Gaer replies, face furrowed in concentration as he hefts the small pouch in his hand. The bag was red, stained wet with blood from the contents.

It contained a ear. A human's ear. Lucien had gone back to the location of the ambush to pick up the ear he'd cut off from the one assassin who'd run away, throwing his comrades lives at Lucien in the process.

Gaer looks at Lucien furtively, then turns away, hunched over the bag. Lucien doesn't see what Gaer is doing, nor does he bother to look. As long as Gaer could lead him to the assassin's nest, he didn't care what the Azai man did.

"Gather the other men!" He barks out the orders, putting his helmet on and firmly strapping it under his chin once more.

"Yes, Sire!"

He was an unscrupulous man. To protect his woman and child was his first responsibility. Tonight was not going to end with just dragging all the parasitic nobles out of their homes. Lucien was going to crush the assassin's guild that had been around even before the nation of Thornmere existed.

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That night, the famed Assassin's Guild known far and wide as the Scythe & Shroud disappeared. With it, a large majority of the underhanded dealings in the black market died with no power to patrol it.

Gaer had found the headquarters of the guild, in a place no one would have thought to look. In a small trading post located in the town square. It's busy location and official business as a Thornmere courier for mail had allowed many to pass in and out indiscreetly.

The night of the failed assassination attempt would go down in history as the night organized crime died. King Lucien had crushed the dark underbelly of society in one fell swoop.

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Excerpt from a history book in the far future:

Many historians argue whether King Lucien's 'cleaning' of the Scythe & Shroud was a calculated endeavor. It was not common knowledge then that the murderous guild was what provided a stable basis upon which other undesirable businesses operated. Illegal weapons merchants, slave merchants, poison sellers, brothels, and gambling rings all worked together under one leader. These businesses had all been organized and policed by the Guild. With the disappearance of the Guild, however, the smaller groups had devolved into bitter fights amongst themselves to take the place of the Guild. None had won. Eventually, all weakened by each other. In the end, they were taken care of by King Lucien and his knights.

Some say that this had all happened due to luck on King Lucien's part. After all, he was a battle-maniac. How would he know that taking down the Scythe & Shroud would have these sort of after-effects?

Yet, others pointed to his shrewd and calculating nature, his abilities in leadership during the Great War. It should be evidence enough to prove that King Lucien had known what he was doing.

In the end, there was no clear conclusion.

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"Where to next, my King?"

Flames flickered and danced as the wood roof caved inwards with a crashing roar.

Heat blasted into Lucien's face as he watched the roaring fire devour the wood building before him of what had formerly been the headquarters of the Scythe & Shroud.

He'd set fire to the place after killing everyone inside. His knights had gone in with him and also cleared out everything that was of value. Lucien was satisfied he'd gotten everything he was looking for. The guild had been meticulous in recording everything down, sealing contracts for murder with their own 'official documents'. Without these documents, the organization that had run like a well-oiled machine was nothing.

The records were exactly what he needed to hunt down any smaller cancerous spots that ate away at his Kingdom.

Lucien doesn't take his eyes off the burning building. Destroying this headquarters was only the beginning.

"Where to next?" He murmurs to himself. Tilting his chin down and clenching his jaw, Lucien ponders the question. If it were the old him, he would have kept going. Kept hunting and killing. Gathering evidence and trying the guilty of their crimes.

His ticking jaw relaxed. But he'd changed. Sera was back.

Then he gives the smallest of smiles, the tension in his wound-up shoulders relaxing. He had someone waiting for him. Someone that cared about him.

Lucien swings his great sword through the air once, to shake off the red blood and sheathing it.

Lucien had always been jealous of the soldiers who'd written home to their families and loved ones with smiles on their faces. The way their faces would light up when the mail courier would arrive. How they would mention their 'home'.

He'd never had a true home until he's met Sera. But now she was back, waiting for him. Wanting to make a true family with him. She, and their child, together, he knew now, was his home.

When the last pillar falls and all that remained of the guild was ashes, Lucien turns back to the waiting knight.

"We go home."

It felt right, those words coming out of his mouth. Lucien mounts Aslan and rides back towards the castle. Sera should be back by now. He'd told Icaros to escort her back after the nobles had all been detained.

"I'm going home...."

The wind carries his low voice away, lifting up the drifting currents of ashes that float in the air.