<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #804000">House of Olegovich]</span></span><br/><span style="font-size: 130%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #804000">Castle Cronce</span></span><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i1313.photobucket.com/albums/t557/srg109/56230f37-b997-4346-8812-7c085e626dfe_zpsbf4727d9.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/><br/><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #804000">Sir Felix Olegovich</span></span></div><br/><br/>When Freya had punched him, he had not been too terribly surprised, but it still had power to it. That little woman would be the death of him and he knew it. He figured he must have been a bit masochistic working with her. The woman was far more brutal than the ones he ever associated with, and it was refreshing--but damn, it would be nice if she didn't react with violence at every turn.<span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FF8000"> "Don’t ever believe that it makes you equal to me or Thyra. You are nothing, boy. And least of all, you are not even a man yet. Father some bastards, make the girls tremble of fear and lust when they hear your name. Then you are a man, baby-face. Now get up, what are you, a whiny little girl?”</span></span>Freya snarled out, gripping his arm to force him to stand straight. Felix was no longer grinning, but that was mostly because her words had stung more than the hit. Thrya had told him once that Freya's violence and harsh words were a sign of affection and care, he wasn't so sure about that.<br/><br/>As they mounted their horses, Freya had taken off before him and he gave a sigh, starting slowly to clear his mind. Eventually he decided to catch up, and did so just as Freya had removed her throwing ax from someone's door. No doubt whoever had been at the door had caused some insult and Freya had decided to prove that she was better than them. The woman always seemed so angry, as if she had things to prove to everyone. Felix wished she wasn't so, at least not in the Southern lands. She would spark outrage if she continued on like this. The fun and games were draining from Felix, and he realized he needed to be more direct with Freya. She would likely take it as insult and assault his person once more, but he couldn't let her actions go ignored.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic"><span style="color: #FF8000">“Shouldn’t the pathfinder be in front and not in the back of the troops? Come on, boy, you wanted to be with your Queen,"</span></span>Freya said haughtily at his arrival. He rolled his eyes, giving her an angry glare, though he was not very angry at all. Just annoyed.<span style="color: #804000"><span style="font-weight: bold"> "Freya, you know that I respect you deeply and I am very grateful for all of your assistance. I know you hate Southerners, I hate them, too..."</span></span>he paused as he reflected. He did quite hate the Southerners a lot. Always demanding he send word of this and that going on at his castle, when they knew they would never make it in time to assist him in anything should he ever need it. They always were upset when he solved his own damned problems, and it irked him to no end. Always taking from his lands and never giving anything in return--just why was he supporting the Queen again? Ah, right...peace.<br/><br/>Regardless, they had goals and they could not accomplish them in the manner that Freya wished.<span style="color: #804000"><span style="font-weight: bold"> "I ask of you to please, for the love of all the slaughter and blood that was spilled, try to withhold your violent tendencies. At least until we get to the tournament. Then make a mess of people there if you so desire. These are just simple, ignorant townsfolk. It is not your place to educate them--even though I know you would educate them well." </span></span><br/><br/>Felix had an odd feeling in his chest that eventually things between him and Freya would come to a head. They would either fight or fuck, or both. She would hate him every moment of it, too, he knew that. Damn it, why did he always have to like the strong ones? Couldn't he just be attracted to some meek, obedient woman? He snorted to himself, gazing off into the distance as he took his place to guide Freya to the grounds. He only hoped she didn't smack him across the head.