Chapter 45 : Rivals?

The beastman had a buttery smooth accent, to Oz's ears it sounded the slightest bit sharper than the ice elves' delicate whistling language. Before she could blink, suddenly she was wrapped up in his arms, lifted up. Only then did the saint notice he was tall enough to pull her right up off the floor. He rubbed his stubbly cheek against hers, a rumbling purr radiated from his chest.

"Whoa! Whoa!" Oz yelled, tickled by the stubble. He paused at that and pulled back, simply holding her with his hands under her arms. She dangled there for a moment before glaring. He flushed before lowering her back down.

"Better." She dusted off her shirt as he sat back on the bed. A slight wheeze to his chest. 

"...Thank you savior." The beastman said with a flushed expression, the elder quick to motion to the blanket beside him. He curled back up in it, hiding his bare chest. 

"You're welcome…ah…Laloon? That's what your name is right? Beast of Laloon?" Oz's eyes drifted over him, Source's dialog box going over the man's status.

[Beast of Laloon: Taegan | Beastman | Level 39]

The beastman snorted in distaste, "I hate that name." His ears went backwards before looking back to her. "My name is Taegan." 

He motioned to his chest, scarred from the abuse given in that filthy dungeon. Oz couldn't help her empathic nature. She walked over to sit on the poof before the bed, accepting the cup of hot tea from the elder elf. 

"Taegan then. How …is everything?"

Taegan tilted his head, causing his short curls to fall into his eyes. He seemed to lean towards her. "I am well, dear Savior."

She had to smile at that, "That's good to hear, what were you doing with that horrid woman?"

To that he frowned again, "The she-bitch of hell. One of the bastard king's latest toys, she hunted me out for my pelt. When she found out I could shift, she demanded I change for her amusement. When I refused…well..the pits."

Taegan pulled the borrowed blanket closer, despite being a massive man he shrinked in on himself. Oz fought the urge to cuddle him into her arms. He looked like an oversized puppy. Instead she reached over to rub his knee, offering some mild support. He seemed to enjoy that, quickly relaxing with her touch.

"We're far from the Capital, where did you bring me?" 

Before Oz could answer, the fur pelt flew open. And there was Nahern, back in his full royal garb. He was an impressive sight, one that made Oz wonder why he was so dressed up.

"You are with my hunting party." Nahern's voice was as cold as the winds outside, his bow over his arm, quivering on his hip. He brought with him the scent of the cold wind and nature. The edges of his sleeves were brushed red from clay and blood, his hunting knives curiously missing. 

Taegan sat upright again, ears back as he grumbled. "Prince Nahern…so this is where you slinked off too. Coward."

"Banished, outsider." Nahern hissed, "If it wasn't for the saint, I would have let you rot."

Oz blinked as she looked between them, "You two…know each other?" 

Even with Hunter's apathy, Oz could feel the tension between the pair. As opposite as day and night. Nahern's deep blue skin and white hair in contrast with Taegan's golden shine.

"Sadly." Nahern snorted. 

"Sadly? We were comrades once, Banished prince before you couldn't control your tongue. Not only cursing yourself but your sweet Sister."

"You will not speak of my sister!" Nahern shouted, hand flying to his side. He cursed, clearly looking for his daggers. 

Oz sat back, confused by this. Then she wondered if Taegan was an ex of Selene or something with how aggressive Nahern was being. With a sigh, she shook her head.

"How about some coffee?" She asked, trying to defuse the growing tension.

Taegan's ears perked up at the mention of coffee, his eyes brightening. Nahern shot him a disdainful look, but Oz was determined to ease the atmosphere.

"Fine, but make it quick," Nahern grumbled, taking a seat on a nearby stool. He purposely spread his long legs out, taking as much space as possible in the room. Taegan's eyes narrowed from the cuddle pile of blankets.

Oz quickly grabbed a small bag of ground coffee beans from her inventory, along with the small compact portable coffee maker. She skillfully set everything up on one of few tables, enjoying the familiar routine. As she poured hot water from an inventory kettle into the machine, the rich aroma of coffee began to fill the yurt. Rich, but not overpowering, fruity and fresh. She loved the smell of freshly roasted beans, it reminded her of home. It warmed her tired heart to share the simple pleasure with her new friends. 

"Here we go," Oz said, handing a steaming mug to Nahern, who accepted it with a raised eyebrow.

Taegan, however, practically snatched the second mug from Oz's hands. The beast took a deep, appreciative whiff before sipping cautiously. A pleased rumble escaped his chest, and a small smile formed on his face.

"This... is amazing," Taegan admitted, his fluffy ears perking up even more.

"See, Nahern? Coffee can mend all bridges," Oz quipped, sipping her own mug. There was no sugar or cream, since the ice elves didn't have any domesticated dairy buffalo. Instead they used a sugar cane like plant, ground down into a milky and sweet powder. Just a tiny spoonful added sweetness to the coffee.

Nahern remained stoic, taking measured sips from his coffee. The tension in the yurt began to ease, replaced by the warmth of the hot beverages. The men weren't glaring at one another, she sighed in relief.

'The testosterone is back at a more manageable level.' She thought, deciding to change the subject.

"So, Taegan, you mentioned something about a pit. What exactly happened back there?" she asked, concerned.

Taegan's expression darkened, and he set his mug down. "That vile woman, Kira, enjoyed tormenting me. She threw me into a pit, a filthy hole where I had to fight for my life against all sorts of creatures. It was a brutal spectacle for her and others from the court's amusement."

Nahern's eyes flickered with a mixture of anger and disgust. "Uncle's sick games. He revels in the suffering of others, especially those who defy him. He spends more time with humans, he must have picked such a habit up from them."

Oz frowned, her empathy kicking in. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Taegan. But you're safe now. Here, I won't allow people to suffer like that."

The golden beastman nodded, gratitude in his eyes. "I owe you my life, Saint."

"No need for formalities. Just call me Oz," she said with a warm smile. She reached over to pat his knee. "Just focus on recovering."