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A Dreamed-Of Peace

Chapter 3

Sponsored by Engy

By Draconicon

The journeys to and from the Whitestone Palace were always long, but for the maned wolves that led the Haafal and their retainers, that merely meant that they were free of obligations for a little while longer. Barakat ran the caravan of guards and supply wagons loosely, not very bothered by the strict protocol of the other houses and the military. If there happened to be a problem, he trusted his officers to deal with it, and if it escalated, he expected them to bring it to him so that he could help. Other than that, he left them to their own devices, much as he expected to be left to his.

That, of course, was partially due to the games of his wife, and the expectations that she had of not being ignored, even in these wilder times.

The caravan had crossed the mountains to the south and west of the Mokri lands without incident, and Barakat had called a pause once they reached the town on the other side. After the long descent, he knew that his men were in need of rest, and more than that, he knew that his wife was in the mood for mischief. He saw the glint in her eyes, and he knew that she was already considering another 'hunt.' He reached over, gently squeezing her arm as her fingers twitched towards the reins of her mount.

"Dear."

Dema turned to him, and as she did, his eyes dropped between her breasts.

It was not a look of desire, though there was much that he did desire between her breasts, but rather a reminder of what she carried now. The Ring of Might laid between her breasts, the twisted band of red and steel supported by a chain of iron around her neck. He smiled slightly to himself, looking from the Ring of Might to her eyes again.

"I would wait for our games."

"Must we? I would imagine you'd love to show your skill before your men..."

The slight smirk on her face would have tempted him, but he knew better. Their games would go long into the night if she had her preference, and they still had some way to go before they were returned to their own capitol. It was days, perhaps weeks distant, and they still had to stay ahead of the news of the Emperor's death. Should the proclamation of what had happened in the capitol outpace them, then it would twist itself, and the narrative would be taken out of their hands.

Barakat shook his head, patting her thigh gently.

"No, no. Another time, dear."

"You challenge me so, husband."

"And you are the one that took it up, my love."

"Hmmph. Take care that I do not look for someone that rewards a challenge better than you do."

"Take care that you do not tempt me to teach you a lesson in rewards."

"Ahem."

The two maned wolves turned in their saddles, looking down at the bear officer that had come up to them. Wearing the green and blue colors of the family - green across the shoulder and down the torso, with limbs of blue - the bear bowed, his leather armor creaking in its newness.

"My lord and lady. We've received word that Lord Faruq is waiting for you in Jahren, ahead. He has already found lodging for you, it seems, and asks that you meet with him at your earliest convenience."

The maned wolves looked at one another, and it was clear to Barakat that his wife was barely holding back her laughter. He rolled his eyes, rubbing his forehead.

"Send a runner ahead and tell my father that I will be there as soon as I can."

"It shall be done, my Lord."

The brown bear bowed again, jogging back to the rest of the contingent. Barakat slowly turned his head, fixing his wife with a level stare.

"What? What is it?"

"Heh...you should have played my game, husband. Now, you are doomed. Faruq will tease you far more than I."

"My father must have matured by now."

"He is an otter, my love. I am not sure they can."

"...You're probably right," he said with a sigh. "Well, at least I know my night will be eventful."

"And you think mine will not?"

"Judging by that smile, you already have plans."

"I always have plans, my husband. It's merely a matter of which one I decide to follow," she said with a small chuckle.

As she leaned in and kissed him, he tilted his muzzle, giving her a soft kiss on the side of hers. They exchanged a gentle stroke of their cheeks, a gentle pat and pet, and then split apart. Barakat trusted her to organize the men in their ranks and make sure that they were settled - either in or out of town - and he imagined that she would take it a bit further after that. She was always one to push the limits for things, and always looking for a challenge.

Though I doubt any of the men can challenge her anymore, he thought with a slight smile as he turned his horse towards Jahren. She's had at least half of them already, and the rumors must have spread by now.

But Dema had always been true to her nature, both that of the Al-Khan and of her species. She was a hunter, and she would never stop until she found her prey.

The town of Jahren was typical of the inland south. It maintained some of the wealth that came from a mining town, but it was also well-supplied with the food of the coastal regions to the north. There were still some wagons of the traders that brought that food south for the towns, and he could see that the market stalls were stocking themselves for the next morning as he rode down the dirt streets that divided the town.

There were many squares in Jahren, again, as was typical of the southern towns. The people loved to gather and socialize, and it made for convenient places without having to search for different shops or taverns in which to do it. Each square was littered with food places on the boundaries of it, anyway, and it meant that there were plenty of options.

Outside of the squares, the merchants gathered, snaring those that were still passing from place to place in town. Occasionally, one would reach for him, trying to get his attention, but his rich robes of green with the blue waves along the back and hem always dissuaded them before they could leap into their spiel properly. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. Much as he disliked the distance that his station put between him and the common folk at times, there were moments when it was useful.

He directed his horse down the widest of streets, having it carry him to the center of town. One of the larger inns had always been his father's favorite. The Seven Rings, it was called, a tribute to the Rings of State, he imagined. Not that the Emperor, any of them, had ever come this far west from the capitol city, but he imagined that the innkeeper often told stories of high fantasy that the Emperor once had attended the place.

Barakat rode up to the doors of the inn, dismounting and leading his horse by the reins to the front door. A young buck lacking his first real rack of antlers appeared, bowing repeatedly.

"Lord Barakat, sir, Lord Faruq told us that you would be coming. He awaits you in -"

"A private suite, on the second floor?"

"Yes, sir. Obviously, you know your father. I apologize for assuming you would not," the deer boy said, bowing his head several times.

"It's no trouble. Here." He pulled his horse forward one extra step. "Stable him, and ensure that he doesn't cause any trouble. Be careful; he's been a little randy on the way up from the south."

"Uh, yes, sir. I will make sure that he doesn't cause any trouble."

"Thank you. Unlike my father, I'd prefer not to come down for a show."

The deer boy blushed slightly, and the maned wolf smiled, patting his shoulder.

"Just see to his comfort. I'll likely be riding out again in a few hours."

"Yes, my lord."

With one final bob of his head, the deer set to work, taking the horse away. Barakat shook his head, smiling to himself. They were always so shy about things, though less so in his part of the Empire than in some of the others. Shaking his head again, he stepped into the inn and looked around.

The Seven Rings was as busy as ever, with the traders that had been making their way south making up most of the crowd. He could see the way their clothes marked them out, being wealthy enough to have the silk, but not enough to dye it and make it look like an imitation of the nobility. Their language, too, wasn't quite the sort that nobles would use, with more of the coarse language that most of the Great Families avoided.

"Hey! What the hell took you so long, boy?!"

Well, most.

Barakat smiled as he lifted his eyes from the common room of the lower floor to the balcony of the upper, seeing an older otter that was leaning against the railing. The aged mustelid was in his early fifties, and he had a bottle in one hand and a bear's ass in the other. The bear had to be in his early adulthood, not even twenty yet, but the otter grabbed that muscular ass as if he owned it as much as he owned his drink.

"Hello, father," the maned wolf said with a small chuckle. The eyes of the common room were on the both of them, and he shook his head as he walked to the stairs. "It seems that you wasted no time."

"I've never been one to hold back, and you fucking know it."

"And you have lost any restraint that your former station allowed you, heh," he said with a small chuckle. "Do you want everyone to think you were merely adopted into the family?"

"Let 'em think whatever the hell they want. I'm retired from running the family, and they know it."

Despite the loud, raucous display that his father was putting on, Barakat knew that it was only half-real. There was no real wobble of the head, no slight lack of balance that the otter would have had if he'd been drinking enough to really not care. Nor did he do the usual continual fondling that he did when he was really into his boy toys or girl toys - it depended on the day and the mood the otter was in which he preferred - so he knew that this was at least half an act.

Not enough to dismiss the black-furred bear, though. Even as he took the steps two at a time to make sure that he reached the top quickly, he could see that the pair of them had still been having fun. A few wet stains on his father's lap that were not alcohol, the slight bit of white at the edge of the bear's muzzle: they'd been having their fun.

"Shall we adjourn to your room, father?" he asked as he took the final step.

"Hmmph. Make me wait and then tell me what to do? Fine."

The otter gestured at the most opulent of the doors on the second floor, which merely meant that it had a fresher coat of paint and that there were a few 'ornate' designs on it that the commons probably believed that the nobles did with all their doors. He stepped through, making his way to the second of the three beds within, and waving his hand through the smoke that filled the air.

Incense. He's not partaking of anything extreme today, he realized, and that made him feel a little less comfortable.

The maned wolf sat at the edge of the bed as his otter father closed the door behind them. The bear fell to all fours, crawling along after the older male as they made their way to another bed. The gray fur around the river-otter's whiskers was a little more prevalent today, and Barakat cocked his head to the side.

"You know," he said.

"I heard rumors," the otter admitted, groaning as he sat down, his knees popping. "Oh, damn, that smarts."

"What have you heard?"

"The big one, of course. The zebra's dead."

"The Emperor, father."

"He's not exactly wearing the rings anymore, is he?"

"No, but perhaps some respect might still be due to the line."

"Heh, the line, the line. The Jadar family's all but spent. Sure, he's got bastards all over the place, but any legitimate heirs? Huh? Fuck if we're ever gonna find that." Faruq sighed, resting his hand on his bear's head. "Let me tell you, boy. The Empire's finished."

"You said that when he first took the throne, if I remember correctly. You always complain at the end of a family's term."

"Yeah, and look at Dashid; he's never given me the chance to complain at all. Damn inconsiderate."

Despite himself, Barakat smiled. Despite his father's rougher nature, there was something that was rather...calming about him. All the complaining was just a way for the older man to take the chaos in stride, and from the sound of things, there was already a calmness under the bitterness that everyone else had been lacking.

"Has the news spread, then?"

"Not far. I've been keeping my ear to the ground, boy. Ear to the ground, nose to the river."

"I imagine that's given you some insight, then."

"More than a little, son, more than a little. The news hasn't hit the Western Coasts yet, but it's not that far behind you."

"You're recommending runners, then?"

"As many as you can fucking send. You want to put your spin on this, get the message out now. I'd say you have two days until the news hits Jahren, and from there, it's gonna spread. Fast."

He had already been thinking about setting his own rumors flying, but his father was right. If the news was coming this fast, then there was no point in waiting to give an official proclamation from the regional capital. They needed to send the news out tomorrow, with official news criers and everything.

As he leaned back, he heard a soft grunt from under the bed. Barakat paused, standing up and leaning over.

Under the bed, he saw no less than four vixens, each one barely dressed, and most of them with at least a half-smile on their faces. They giggled slightly at being found out, and he slowly stood up again, looking at his father with a raised eyebrow.

"Grieving through grunting, father?"

"Hey, you do it your way, I'll do it mine."

"You really have no room to talk about bastards, with the number you've sired," he said, moving to sit on one of the chairs rather than the bed, though not before checking under it for more discarded playthings.

"Do you want my advice, boy, or do you just want to complain?"

"You're the one doing the complaining, father. I'm just the one that's pointing out that you don't have a lot of room without becoming a hypocrite."

"I'm a noble. It's what we do."

Faruq had him there, though they were a bit different than the rest of them. At least the Haafal were more honest about things. The Mokri could be bought, and the Strok had their honor that they had to keep to at any cost, and the Rashid...well, nobody really knew what they were doing. But at least the Haafal could admit when they got it wrong.

He sat down, crossing one long leg over the other as his father grumbled, getting back in bed. The bear followed, and the maned wolf rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

"Do you have anything else to tell me, father, or are you planning to get back to your pleasures?"

"You can't tell me that you're not getting it from a hundred ladies yourself, boy. I know what you're like."

"And you know our arrangement. Dema and I have already agreed what we are allowed to do."

"So? Grab a vixen and have your fun. Not like you haven't had sloppy seconds before."

"That wasn't the reason I came here. I came because you asked. Now, was there anything else, or are you done?"

"Ugh. Who would have thought that my boy would wind up a prude?"

"Is it prudish to not want to watch your father stuff his dick down a bear's..." He glanced down, watched for a moment, then glanced back at the ceiling. "...maw?" he asked, as if he hadn't stopped in the first place.

"How big a deal is this going to be, son?"

"As big as I have to make it."

"Ugh! Fine. But you're the one that owes me a new toy later," the otter grunted.

Smack. The bear got a spank, and the young male grabbed his clothes before heading out of the room. Barakat hummed to himself as he looked at the ceiling, tapping his foot on empty air as he heard the otter putting his clothes back on.

In truth, he didn't mind his father having sex in the same room as him. Not out of any sort of attraction, but rather because he had seen it happen so many times that he could be blasé about it without even intending to be. He only wished for Faruq to stop because it was distracting, and he wanted to ensure that his father was focused on the matter at hand rather than the pleasure of someone else's body.

After all, the otter had led the family to a great deal of prosperity before getting sick of it all and retiring. The old man was still sharp, and he had a number of contacts across the Empire. To ignore him would be to play the fool in a terrible way.

However, it was important to keep the older man focused, otherwise he would just start thinking with his baser instincts again.

"So, where the hell's your wife? I was almost looking forward to her growls of greeting."

"Dema planned to stay with the men."

"Heh, seeing if she can find a better match?"

"More like seeing if she can tease me into being the better man again."

"Is it gonna work?"

"Probably," the maned wolf said. "It usually does."

"She's got you wrapped around her damn finger."

"And I don't mind that in the slightest."

"Yeah..." Faruq sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Gotta admit, sometimes I wonder how that feels. You..." The otter huffed. "You take care of that girl, son. You take damn good care of her. You've been lucky so far, but I don't think you're ever gonna find another woman like her."

"I know I won't. And I know she won't find another man like me."

"Ha! You're right there, son. You're right there."

The otter patted walked over, patting him on the arm.

"So, what do you say we go crash her party and see what the hell she's up to? I need to give her a reason to chase me down again."

"She's never going to be intimate with you, father," Barakat said as he got to his feet. "It will never happen."

"Who says I'm looking for a fuck? I just want to get her pissed and chasing me. Gotta get my exercise somewhere besides the bedroom."

The maned wolf chuckled despite himself. For all that he and his father had had their disagreements about propriety and fun, for all that they did butt heads occasionally, he had never been one to rise to Faruq's teasing. He'd been the one to get his father to rise to his own lack of reaction, more than anything else, and he had long-since learned that the easiest way to get a rise out of the otter was to pretend that you weren't affected by his teasing.

Dema, on the other hand, was more than willing to jump at the otter's bait, and long before Barakat had taken the leadership of the house, there had been visits to Dema's lands where Faruq had deliberately inflamed things just to get a bit of fun. The number of bruises and scars that the old man had from pissing off the Al-Khans past their ability to control themselves - even as a challenge - was quite astounding.

He followed his father down from the suite, and they were halfway to the stables before a soldier came barreling into the room.

"My lord! Lord Faruq!" the wolf said. "Bandits."

The otter and maned wolf paused, both in mid-step and both with one foot still in the air as they turned to face the messenger. The old man started to jump in, but Barakat held up his hand. He was lord of the family, after all.

"What have you seen?"

"Tracks, mostly. Lady Dema took a squad of riders out to see where they were coming from, and sent me to find you."

"She's already picked her pack for the night? Boy, you really are slipping," Faruq said, shaking his head.

"A moment, father. And when did she leave?"

"An hour ago, my lord."

An hour. That was still well in the realm of being safe, but at the same time, that was a long time to track the bandits at night. He looked out the window, saw that the moon was on the rise, and he bit off a hiss of exasperation.

Trust Dema to take a challenge when she doesn't have to...

And more than likely, she had taken the Ring of Might with her. That meant that there was a chance that she might start using it, and without practice...

"Father, do you have a horse?"

"Of course I do. You think I go anywhere without a getaway plan?"

"Forgive me for underestimating your roguish ways. Soldier, which direction did she go?"

"South, my lord."

Along the base of the mountains, then. If there were bandits...or worse...

"Mount up."

After splitting his men into two groups, Barakat took one half with him to follow in Dema's tracks. The other half he sent to Jahren, just in case this was a diversion to allow for the bandits to try and take something from the town. The maned wolf rode at the head of the pack of fox, wolf, and maned wolf soldiers, with Faruq riding just behind him. His father shouted up to him.

"There's no way that we're going to catch up to her unless something's gone wrong," the otter said. "We'll be better suited taking this slow."

"And if something's gone wrong, we need to be there now. Speed, father, speed."

They rode towards the base of the mountains south of the village, finding the mining camp and then following the roads from there. The harsh, obvious prints of hooves along the tracks showed them where Dema and her soldiers had gone, and he followed behind them, his eyes to the ground and his nose to the air.

He caught her scent and followed it as much as he followed the tracks. It was thick and strong, and he could almost smell her hunger as she tracked the bandits. She had been eager, too eager for a challenge.

They followed the tracks for nearly a quarter of an hour before Barakat held up his fist, calling his horse to a stop. The rest of his men did the same.

"What is it? What do you smell?" Faruq asked.

"Her scent's leaving the trail."

"What do you mean? The tracks -"

"The tracks go on, but she doesn't."

The maned wolf didn't like the implications. There were other possibilities than the one that he feared, but the one that kept coming back to him was the possibility of her experimenting with the ring around her neck.

She wouldn't. It's not a challenge to use that, and she's too Al-Khan to use it without need...

But if she did, it would explain a great deal. The other horses would have continued on while she took a different path, the riders too weak to control their horses after she drained their strength. For that was how the Ring of Might worked for those that had not mastered it. It drained the strength of those around you and gave it to you, allowing you to become a supreme warrior at the cost of all those that followed you.

That, he supposed, would have fit. She would want to test it, test herself. And if she did...

"You, you, and you," he said, pointing to three wolves. "Follow the tracks and see if the men are at the end of it. The rest of you, dismount and follow me."

There was a different tone in his voice, now, and he knew it. Things had become serious, and he had to treat them seriously.

Even his father followed as they tied their horses down, leaving three foxes as guards. That left a total of twenty to follow him as he tracked his wife. Thankfully, her scent was strong enough to follow with ease.

They followed a winding path through the rocks and along the scree-covered slopes before a sudden scream interrupted them. The scream was followed by a blur flying through the air. It resolved into a silhouette of a bear, one that fell to the rocks far below with a crack. Another scream followed, and another silhouette went flying. Faruq snorted.

"What the hell have you been doing with her, boy? If that's her, I don't think she needs any help."

"You'd be surprised..."

He climbed up to the nearby plateau, and saw almost what he had expected to see.

His wife was alone among the bandits, but she didn't seem to care. Her teeth were on full display, her eyes burning with excitement. She didn't have a weapon in hand, and he knew from experience that she didn't need one. Even without the ring, she was a terrifying combatant in hand to hand fighting.

But with the twisted red and steel ring around her finger...

Another bandit, a cougar, lunged for her. He came within a hair's breadth of laying hands on her before she swung her fist back, hitting him hard enough to crack his muzzle in and send him flying back towards the mountain slope. Two more charged from the front, and the maned wolf swung her leg around, cracking one across the face and sending him flying into the other.

She was smiling. No. She was laughing.

"Move," Barakat muttered.

"What? She's got it handled," his father said.

"Move, while you still can," he clarified.

"What - oh. Oh. Move, you idiots, move!"

The otter waved the soldiers forward, and as they shouted, the bandits froze. The fight was over before it could continue, and Barakat pushed between them, shoving the robbers out of the way as he ran for his wife. Not because he feared for her, however, but because he feared for the rest of them.

"Dema. My love."

"My husband." She smiled at him, gesturing around. "What fun you've missed. Care to take a turn?"

"Take it off, dear. Take it off."

He could already feel the tremors of the ring draining him. It was already pulling at his strength, leaving him shaking in the knees, his fingers twitching and his muscles tensing and quivering. It was the way of the Ring of Might, to empower one at the cost of all their allies around.

She looked at him, almost like she was ready to tease, but then she must have seen it. Seen what it was doing to him. Her smile dropped and she ripped the ring from her finger.

Almost instantly, he felt better, but she nearly collapsed into his arms. Dema panted, gritting her teeth as she leaned her muzzle against his neck.

"What...mmmph..."

"Look away!" Barakat ordered, and his men all looked somewhere else. Most at the bandits, some at the sky, but none at him and her. He would not have his wife shamed, not now. Not when she would remember this forever.

"What...what's happening...to me..."

"The Ring made you strong, and now you've become normal again. That's all. That's all," he whispered as he rubbed the back of her head.

"I feel...I feel so...weak..."

"Take it as a challenge, dear. Push against it."

"Yes...yes..."

She squeezed the ring in the palm of her hand, and he felt her pushing it into his pocket. He didn't want it like that, but he knew that it was probably better off there than on her person. She was scared, now. Scared for the first time that he had ever seen, and it was enough to scare him, too.

As he held her, gently petting her through the worst of the shakes, Faruq approached. The otter cleared his throat, and the married pair looked down at the old man. He looked between them, and then held out his arms.

"What, a father can't hug his daughter?"

"You were not involved in my conception, old one," Dema muttered.

"You're married to my son. That's all I need."

And just like that, the old man wiggled his way into the hug, holding them both. The maned wolves sighed, looking at each other for a moment, but then just let it happen, hugging the old man back.

Then Dema yelped, and Faruq chuckled.

"I've been waiting for months for that," the aged otter said.

"Did you just..." Barakat asked.

"He did. He just pinched my rump," Dema confirmed, her mouth hanging open as she stared at the otter.

"Oh? Are you maaaaad at me?" the otter asked, smirking.

"..."

"..."

"Catch me if you can!" the otter shouted, just as the married pair of maned wolves started chasing after him. The soldiers broke ranks, avoiding the sudden charge down the mountain, and the bandits stared in utter shock at the insanity of the nobles.

But for the Haafal, it was just another day, and a strange, but welcome, return to normality. In the back of his mind, Barakat made a note to question the bandits about why they had been operating here, of all places, but for now, he had a father to discipline.

The End

Summary: The Haafal family return to their lands, and we meet a few more characters...and find someone overreaching themselves.

Tags: M/M, otter, maned wolf, bandit, fighting, fight, series, eastern, magic, comedy, experience, sadness, fun, silly,