Diana was currently being assaulted by a fusillade of sudden and unexpected offenses. The sickening smell of wine breath alone threatened to make her double over in nausea and disgust. This stranger's words, ever so slightly slurred even through Split's ability to translate, irritated her sense of propriety and courtesy. Visually, he was something of a mess. Reddened cheeks aside, there was a very visible stain on his upper lip from all of the wine he had been drinking and the slight glisten of sweat on his skin made him look artificial, manufactured.
This, of course, did not even take into consideration the content of this character's words.
They were insults, obviously, but they were just the type that could make her mad. She didn't much mind being called a disgrace, that was a matter of opinion, but her mere presence being called an insult evoked some ugly emotions in her gut. Much the same, being called a low life by someone so drunk. She put great amounts of effort into improving her image and mannerisms, so being referred to as uncouth made her indignant.
His insults towards the games and food were just the cherry on top, both being things she found enjoyable.
However Diana would not allow herself to act up because of such low level blows to her character and image. She was refined, she was elegant, and she had an extreme degree of self control. Well, she wouldn't exactly call the way she acted around Donovan 'controlled', but that was the exception. Diana was incredibly confident in her ability to maintain a calm and composed demeanor under almost any circumstance outside of the bedroom.
"Prostrate yourself before the crown prince immediately and apologize for your inadequacies!!!"
That didn't mean she knew how to defuse this particular situation. She had surmised that this man was Rishtahn, son of the Bulsarzian Emperor's prime minister, so she couldn't disregard him as she would a normal drunk, but that was really the only way she knew how to deal with the intoxicated. She was especially unprepared to deal with one as aggressive as him.
Cautiously she took a look around to gather what the crowd's feelings on the matter might be.
"Look at me when I speak you strumpet!"
A great many gasps erupted from the crowd. Generally such insults were reserved for political enemies, and the act of referring to a lady as a prostitute in such a formal atmosphere was still frowned upon. Doing so at a party? Somewhere people expected to have fun and build relationships? This was not just a disrespect to Diana, but a slap in Merndil's face as well.
"I would kindly ask you to keep such vulgar talk to yourself."
All Diana could think of was to be the better person in the situation. Engaging in that sort of verbal spar was not going to reflect well on her character. For now, acting as though she was above this degree of degradation.
"So you don't deny it?"
Diana wondered if women of the distant past had to deal with similar scenarios. Surely not everyone was as chivalrous as the stories claimed.
"I have no need to deny such spurious claims, they discredit themselves by virtue of their ridiculousness."
"I think not, whore! I see right through you! You are little more than a common whore trying to get your hands on the blood of the royal family!"
He was taking this way too far for Diana's liking. This was not ideal for her reputation, even if they were blatantly false accusations. The son of a Prime Minister could hold some serious political weight, enough to the point that other nobles might agree with him to save their own necks.
"The very thought that I could be unfaithful disgusts me to no end. Where do you get off screaming at me about infidelity?"
"Because it is the truth! Clearer than a summer day and more obvious than the Emperor's splendor!"
"This is a waste of my time." Diana rolled her eyes. There was not getting through this blockhead, especially not when he was drunk. Never once having lost her dignified stance, she turned to move somewhere else, somewhere she wouldn't be verbally assaulted.
"Don't you dare turn your back to me!"
- - - - -
Len had been moving, quietly, towards the two of them as they argued. Len was hoping, praying, that Diana would somehow be able to keep this 'heated discussion' on the civil end of the spectrum, but he knew that option had been taken off the table once Diana had been called a strumpet, a prostitute. Even if her antagonist somehow managed to sober up enough to apologize, the damage had been done. It was now impossible for them to mend the relationship in the eyes of the public without first going through an extended feud.
Such conflicts were dangerous, not only because of the potential for one of the parties to fall from grace, but because it could escalate into violence.
"I have no need to deny such spurious claims, they discredit themselves by virtue of their ridiculousness."
Len did not know if this was a good response to his claim that failure to deny meant it was the truth, but it certainly wasn't a bad one. Once again, he admired her ability to keep her head.
"I think not, whore! I see right through you! You are little more than a common whore trying to get your hands on the blood of the royal family!"
And there it was. The situation was now well and truly irrecoverable. This was a declaration of war, one which could not be blown of with a 'haha I was just drunk'. He was accusing Diana of more than just being a woman who reveled in low-brow debauchery, but that her motivations for getting close to the crown prince were motivated by a hunger for power, imperial power.
"The very thought that I could be unfaithful disgusts me to no end. Where do you get off screaming at me about infidelity?"
As Len worked his way towards them, a little bit faster now that he knew violence was on the table, he realized that Diana was not being insulted in the way that was intended. She was not at all concerned with being called a power hungry seductress, she was concerned about her relationship with regards to Donovan. Admirable, from a certain point of view, but certainly strange in comparison to the norm.
"Because it is the truth! Clearer than a summer day and more obvious than the Emperor's splendor!"
This guy was starting to lose the argument. Diana had easily brushed away his accusations as baseless. Now he was resorting to metaphor to give his accusations that extra punch.
Len knew he didn't have much time at this point.
Diana sighed as she started to turn away. "This is a waste of my time."
And there it was. This was it. Len didn't have the luxury of waiting anymore. Diana had won the verbal spar, completely dismantling his claims and calling his bluff when he resorted to an exchange of extravagance, even getting the last word in. However that was the most dangerous time for her. A defeated man, drunk and prideful, believing himself superior to his opponent in every way, would be controlled by impulse rather than logic.
He was going to get physical with Diana.
He might not strike her, but even before he spoke again he was moving. One foot forward, probably his dominant one, and a hand slowly coming up towards her shoulder.
"Don't you dare turn your back to me!"
Len didn't have time. There wasn't an opportunity to steel himself, to think about what he would say in response to the inevitable tirade that would be directed at him. Len would have to strike first, perhaps not hard enough to debilitate, but definitely with enough force to keep him from laying a hand on her.
SMACK
He cursed his shorter arms and smaller stature. Perhaps if he had been a bit quicker to move he wouldn't have had to leap to make it in time, but now he found himself stumbling on the landing.
But he had made it.
It wasn't graceful, it wasn't convincing, but he had managed to keep Diana free from harm for the moment. He had done his job.
"YOU!!!"
He could feel the impact of vicious glare on his back as he struggled to regain balance. Diana had only just tuned back around, blind to the event that had just taken place behind her.
"HOW DARE YOU STRIKE ME!"
Len, timid as always, found himself cowering under the shout. This man was no Donovan, but the addition of split to his shout still had a factor of intimidation.
"Tell me your name, MONGREL. I will have you punished for your crime!"
"L-Len."
"DONOVAN!!!" Diana did not hesitate to call for help once she realized that violence was very much on the table. While she called for Donovan, she did so knowing that any of those who knew her would come running once they heard her yell that name. She was not one to yell without purpose, and there wasn't anyone who would call him that.
"Calling for that trash of a person you call your man, are you?" Rishtahn smirked as he once again began to approach her. He felt Len had been sufficiently cowed, Diana was more important. "I'll teach you not to disrespect me like that. Stand still and accept your punishment with grace!"
Slowly he raised a hand and stepped forward. Diana, wearing heels and restricted by her dress, could not make enough space.
But that was okay.
Despite everything, the impending danger, her unbalanced footing, her climbing adrenaline, she would not receive this slap.
Diana still had a shield.
CRACK
"NRRgh." Len had managed to get into position to intercept the blow. Unfortunately, the part of his body that intercepted it was the back of his head. Needless to say, he felt the sting of Rishtahn's rings in incredible clarity. "Phoo, phoo, phoo, phooooo."
Quick breaths through clenched teeth. It was painful, sure, but it was at a level he could handle. He might tear up, he might get a bruise, but he wouldn't double over. His job wasn't done. Keeping his eyes open and his body between Diana and Rishtahn, he raised his arms to be slightly out in front of his body. Len was mimicking Donovan's stance when he fought unarmed.
Of course, he didn't yet know enough about close quarters combat and martial arts to understand what he should be doing with his hands and why, but he realized that they were in a position to block slaps and punches with.
Intimately familiar with his inadequacy when faced with an enemy which was undoubtedly stronger than him in split given his high status as a noble, he began to slowly back up, nudging Diana in such a way to suggest she should get a move on. This man might not be trained in combat as Len had, but was he really going to take that chance? What would happen to Diana if he got knocked down or out of the way?
"YOU PEST!" He was angry, infuriated, by the fact his strike intended for Diana had been intercepted by this little twerp. "I REFUSE to believe that the crown prince invited you personally! To whom do you belong!?"
"I-I'm one of the people in Sergeant Strauss' squad."
"Ha?" Rishtahn's face screwed up further. "Some disgraceful cur from beyond the empire found a way into the party? Truly a disgrace!"
"N-no."
"No?"
"I-I live in the empire. . ."
"O-ho?" A smile once more found itself onto Rishtahn's face. "Well then. You may consider your life to officially be over, Len."
Len made himself small, but he didn't back down. He just kept backing away as Rishtahn approached.
"You, my ugly little friend, have committed the grave crime of striking the prime minister's son!" Len's heart dropped into his stomach. "I think you know what that means, don't you? I think your family will have to compensate me for the damage you have caused me. Perhaps the revocation of a title or two would be sufficient. . ."
tump tump tump tump
Everyone in the room besides Len and Rishtahn turned their eyes to the source of the sound, the two of them currently locked in an intense game of chicken.
"Mind the noise please, I'm busy lecturing a pair of criminals and I want to make sure they hear me." It was odd that someone would make so much noise even if they were in a rush, but Rishtahn had more important matters on his mind.
"What's going on here."
- - - - -
Even though Diana was the one who had called for him, she could not quite express the feeling she was experiencing right now.
When first she realized Len had protected her from harm, she panicked. She kept her cool externally, but her first reaction was to call for Donovan.
When Len once again put himself in harms way, she felt guilt. This was supposed to be her burden to bear. She could handle a bit of pain, couldn't she?
When she heard Rishtahn threaten Len's family, her heart sank the same as his. For a noble, that was probably the equivalent of a death penalty.
When she finally picked up on the sound of Donovan's boots on the wooden panels after what felt like an eternity, she felt a great deal of relief.
But when he finally entered the room, almost instantly getting a grip on the general situation, she could not help but shiver.
He had not come as a knight in shining armor.
Was this what her grandfather warned her about?
Was this the 'beast most grotesque and violent'?
Donovan's attention was not focused on her, the normal reaction of a concerned hero.
Donovan's voice displayed no concern.
Donovan's presence wasn't just comforting her, it was scaring her.
His eyes looked as if they were glued open, no blinking, not moving around the room.
Two pupils, cold and callous, focused directly on the threat he had identified.
His body immediately abandoned any pretense of a formal gait, his muscles loosening and tightening in the places they needed to be to fight.
Slowly, firmly, he took his first step in Rishtahn's direction.
- - - - -
Len didn't need to see Donovan to know he had arrived, Len could feel him. Right now, he was feeling him more than ever. Who else could make a room's temperature drop with just a change in attitude? Who else could dominate the crowd's attention without so much as an action to address them?
Perhaps only the Arboreal Maiden reached that standard, at least as far as Len knew.
"Ah, so the uncivilized cur has finally made an appearance! How grand! Stay over there would you? I'm in the middle of teaching this whore of a woman the proper way to act around her betters."
top top top
Len almost fell over. Usually Donovan would address a comment like that. Normally Donovan would say something.
But not now.
Now he was completely silent, not even his breath making it to Len's ears. The only thing he could hear was the beating of his heart, synchronized with his footsteps.
"I said I would deal with you later didn't I? Be a good peon and wait your turn!"
Finally, Donovan entered Len's line of sight. His legs almost gave out as he felt his stomach churning.
"I said leave!" Rishtahn readjusted himself to face Donovan, his raised right hand to send a slap towards Donovan's left cheek.
It went without saying that such a mindlessly made attack didn't even make it past his shoulders. It was blocked, naturally, by his left arm. But Donovan didn't just brush it off. The momentum of the hand now gone and a vicious sneer on Rishtahn's face, Donovan brought his arm back down over and around this lazily extended arm, locking just in front of the elbow.
From what Len remembered, this was the point where Rishtahn would end up flying. This was not what happened.
Donovan instead hoisted this arm up with his forearm, creating a sudden amount of extreme leverage on the elbow in the direction opposite it's preferred bending direction -
krrk
- snapping it immediately. Donovan did not stop there, in fact he didn't even give Rishtahn enough time to scream. Pulling even further to get Rishtahn's face at an appropriate distance, Donovan let loose a nasty right hook.
POW
His arm now bending the wrong direction and his face already bloodied, Rishtahn's pain finally evoked a response. An ear rending scream the likes most present had never heard before escaped his mouth. He didn't have the time to get an entire breath out before he was hoisted back into position by his damaged arm, just to get blasted again by Donovan's right fist.
POW
It shut him up immediately, replacing his screaming with a pathetic gasping for air. But he wouldn't fall unconscious. The pain in his left arm was too great for his brain to shut off just yet, especially not from a blow to the front.
POW
Another hoist, pain scorching it's way into his mind, another incredibly solid impact to his face.
POK
Another hoist, a punch that broke his nose.
POW
As the blood started gushing down his face, Rishtahn's body finally gave out. His elbow completely gave out, ligaments, muscles, cartilage, ripping and tearing to the point where Donovan could no longer get leverage. Like a piece of paper that had been folded over and over, the arm would not put up any resistance.
That was not enough to escape though.
Donovan, eyes still wide open, pulled a barely conscious Rishtahn close to him and readjusted his hold. His body went up, and then it came down. Head first.
In an instant, Donovan was back on his feet, walking around towards Rishtahn's head. Don took a moment to analyze his condition before raising his right boot and -
"DONOVAN!!!!"
A cry, no, a screech from Diana finally snapped him out of his trance, but his boot had yet to return to the ground. He blinked, finally, as his eyes left Rishtahn's face and looked to Diana. Other than that, there was no change in his expression. He did not smile, he did not frown, he only put his boot down before marching over to her.
- - - - -
Diana was sick beyond words, frightened beyond belief at the scene she had just witnessed. He did not plan to stop at curtailing the threat, he had moved to eliminate it. Donovan had almost killed a man.
Those were his dress boots. They were worn during parades and to formal gatherings, and they had some unique characteristics. Among those traits, a metal plate on the back of the right heel, meant to make a certain sound when he stomped at rest. If he had gone through with the stomp he had prepared for, the floor would have been stained by the brain matter of her assailant.
Diana knew that was an intentional decision as well, if she hadn't cried out in terror then Donovan would have become a murderer.
"Are you okay?" There was concern in his eyes, but the rest of his face had yet to break. "Are you hurt?"
Tension leaving her body, Diana struggled to get a handle on her breathing. She wanted to cry, not for herself but for the monster she had just been made aware of.
"Diana?"
"I'm fine." Diana grabbed out for his hand, bringing it up to her cheek and leaning into it. "I'm fine. Len protected me."
Donovan looked down into her eyes, his gaze softening further as he confirmed her condition. Gently, he pulled her into his chest as she began to weep. For the second time today he found himself comforting a distraught woman, but he couldn't afford to stay still this time. Diana needed to be moved away from this place, away from the threat.
But he wasn't going to forget an important job.
Slowly, he reached his free hand out to Len, ruffling his hair as he made eye contact.
"Thank you, Len."
cakeonfrosting . . . this party is coming to a close I think. Just one more chapter for Nemo before we get to the afterparty and the aftermath. . .
Diana was currently being assaulted by a fusillade of sudden and unexpected offenses. The sickening smell of wine breath alone threatened to make her double over in nausea and disgust. This stranger's words, ever so slightly slurred even through Split's ability to translate, irritated her sense of propriety and courtesy. Visually, he was something of a mess. Reddened cheeks aside, there was a very visible stain on his upper lip from all of the wine he had been drinking and the slight glisten of sweat on his skin made him look artificial, manufactured.
This, of course, did not even take into consideration the content of this character's words.
They were insults, obviously, but they were just the type that could make her mad. She didn't much mind being called a disgrace, that was a matter of opinion, but her mere presence being called an insult evoked some ugly emotions in her gut. Much the same, being called a low life by someone so drunk. She put great amounts of effort into improving her image and mannerisms, so being referred to as uncouth made her indignant.
His insults towards the games and food were just the cherry on top, both being things she found enjoyable.
However Diana would not allow herself to act up because of such low level blows to her character and image. She was refined, she was elegant, and she had an extreme degree of self control. Well, she wouldn't exactly call the way she acted around Donovan 'controlled', but that was the exception. Diana was incredibly confident in her ability to maintain a calm and composed demeanor under almost any circumstance outside of the bedroom.
"Prostrate yourself before the crown prince immediately and apologize for your inadequacies!!!"
That didn't mean she knew how to defuse this particular situation. She had surmised that this man was Rishtahn, son of the Bulsarzian Emperor's prime minister, so she couldn't disregard him as she would a normal drunk, but that was really the only way she knew how to deal with the intoxicated. She was especially unprepared to deal with one as aggressive as him.
Cautiously she took a look around to gather what the crowd's feelings on the matter might be.
"Look at me when I speak you strumpet!"
A great many gasps erupted from the crowd. Generally such insults were reserved for political enemies, and the act of referring to a lady as a prostitute in such a formal atmosphere was still frowned upon. Doing so at a party? Somewhere people expected to have fun and build relationships? This was not just a disrespect to Diana, but a slap in Merndil's face as well.
"I would kindly ask you to keep such vulgar talk to yourself."
All Diana could think of was to be the better person in the situation. Engaging in that sort of verbal spar was not going to reflect well on her character. For now, acting as though she was above this degree of degradation.
"So you don't deny it?"
Diana wondered if women of the distant past had to deal with similar scenarios. Surely not everyone was as chivalrous as the stories claimed.
"I have no need to deny such spurious claims, they discredit themselves by virtue of their ridiculousness."
"I think not, whore! I see right through you! You are little more than a common whore trying to get your hands on the blood of the royal family!"
He was taking this way too far for Diana's liking. This was not ideal for her reputation, even if they were blatantly false accusations. The son of a Prime Minister could hold some serious political weight, enough to the point that other nobles might agree with him to save their own necks.
"The very thought that I could be unfaithful disgusts me to no end. Where do you get off screaming at me about infidelity?"
"Because it is the truth! Clearer than a summer day and more obvious than the Emperor's splendor!"
"This is a waste of my time." Diana rolled her eyes. There was not getting through this blockhead, especially not when he was drunk. Never once having lost her dignified stance, she turned to move somewhere else, somewhere she wouldn't be verbally assaulted.
"Don't you dare turn your back to me!"
- - - - -
Len had been moving, quietly, towards the two of them as they argued. Len was hoping, praying, that Diana would somehow be able to keep this 'heated discussion' on the civil end of the spectrum, but he knew that option had been taken off the table once Diana had been called a strumpet, a prostitute. Even if her antagonist somehow managed to sober up enough to apologize, the damage had been done. It was now impossible for them to mend the relationship in the eyes of the public without first going through an extended feud.
Such conflicts were dangerous, not only because of the potential for one of the parties to fall from grace, but because it could escalate into violence.
"I have no need to deny such spurious claims, they discredit themselves by virtue of their ridiculousness."
Len did not know if this was a good response to his claim that failure to deny meant it was the truth, but it certainly wasn't a bad one. Once again, he admired her ability to keep her head.
"I think not, whore! I see right through you! You are little more than a common whore trying to get your hands on the blood of the royal family!"
And there it was. The situation was now well and truly irrecoverable. This was a declaration of war, one which could not be blown of with a 'haha I was just drunk'. He was accusing Diana of more than just being a woman who reveled in low-brow debauchery, but that her motivations for getting close to the crown prince were motivated by a hunger for power, imperial power.
"The very thought that I could be unfaithful disgusts me to no end. Where do you get off screaming at me about infidelity?"
As Len worked his way towards them, a little bit faster now that he knew violence was on the table, he realized that Diana was not being insulted in the way that was intended. She was not at all concerned with being called a power hungry seductress, she was concerned about her relationship with regards to Donovan. Admirable, from a certain point of view, but certainly strange in comparison to the norm.
"Because it is the truth! Clearer than a summer day and more obvious than the Emperor's splendor!"
This guy was starting to lose the argument. Diana had easily brushed away his accusations as baseless. Now he was resorting to metaphor to give his accusations that extra punch.
Len knew he didn't have much time at this point.
Diana sighed as she started to turn away. "This is a waste of my time."
And there it was. This was it. Len didn't have the luxury of waiting anymore. Diana had won the verbal spar, completely dismantling his claims and calling his bluff when he resorted to an exchange of extravagance, even getting the last word in. However that was the most dangerous time for her. A defeated man, drunk and prideful, believing himself superior to his opponent in every way, would be controlled by impulse rather than logic.
He was going to get physical with Diana.
He might not strike her, but even before he spoke again he was moving. One foot forward, probably his dominant one, and a hand slowly coming up towards her shoulder.
"Don't you dare turn your back to me!"
Len didn't have time. There wasn't an opportunity to steel himself, to think about what he would say in response to the inevitable tirade that would be directed at him. Len would have to strike first, perhaps not hard enough to debilitate, but definitely with enough force to keep him from laying a hand on her.
SMACK
He cursed his shorter arms and smaller stature. Perhaps if he had been a bit quicker to move he wouldn't have had to leap to make it in time, but now he found himself stumbling on the landing.
But he had made it.
It wasn't graceful, it wasn't convincing, but he had managed to keep Diana free from harm for the moment. He had done his job.
"YOU!!!"
He could feel the impact of vicious glare on his back as he struggled to regain balance. Diana had only just tuned back around, blind to the event that had just taken place behind her.
"HOW DARE YOU STRIKE ME!"
Len, timid as always, found himself cowering under the shout. This man was no Donovan, but the addition of split to his shout still had a factor of intimidation.
"Tell me your name, MONGREL. I will have you punished for your crime!"
"L-Len."
"DONOVAN!!!" Diana did not hesitate to call for help once she realized that violence was very much on the table. While she called for Donovan, she did so knowing that any of those who knew her would come running once they heard her yell that name. She was not one to yell without purpose, and there wasn't anyone who would call him that.
"Calling for that trash of a person you call your man, are you?" Rishtahn smirked as he once again began to approach her. He felt Len had been sufficiently cowed, Diana was more important. "I'll teach you not to disrespect me like that. Stand still and accept your punishment with grace!"
Slowly he raised a hand and stepped forward. Diana, wearing heels and restricted by her dress, could not make enough space.
But that was okay.
Despite everything, the impending danger, her unbalanced footing, her climbing adrenaline, she would not receive this slap.
Diana still had a shield.
CRACK
"NRRgh." Len had managed to get into position to intercept the blow. Unfortunately, the part of his body that intercepted it was the back of his head. Needless to say, he felt the sting of Rishtahn's rings in incredible clarity. "Phoo, phoo, phoo, phooooo."
Quick breaths through clenched teeth. It was painful, sure, but it was at a level he could handle. He might tear up, he might get a bruise, but he wouldn't double over. His job wasn't done. Keeping his eyes open and his body between Diana and Rishtahn, he raised his arms to be slightly out in front of his body. Len was mimicking Donovan's stance when he fought unarmed.
Of course, he didn't yet know enough about close quarters combat and martial arts to understand what he should be doing with his hands and why, but he realized that they were in a position to block slaps and punches with.
Intimately familiar with his inadequacy when faced with an enemy which was undoubtedly stronger than him in split given his high status as a noble, he began to slowly back up, nudging Diana in such a way to suggest she should get a move on. This man might not be trained in combat as Len had, but was he really going to take that chance? What would happen to Diana if he got knocked down or out of the way?
"YOU PEST!" He was angry, infuriated, by the fact his strike intended for Diana had been intercepted by this little twerp. "I REFUSE to believe that the crown prince invited you personally! To whom do you belong!?"
"I-I'm one of the people in Sergeant Strauss' squad."
"Ha?" Rishtahn's face screwed up further. "Some disgraceful cur from beyond the empire found a way into the party? Truly a disgrace!"
"N-no."
"No?"
"I-I live in the empire. . ."
"O-ho?" A smile once more found itself onto Rishtahn's face. "Well then. You may consider your life to officially be over, Len."
Len made himself small, but he didn't back down. He just kept backing away as Rishtahn approached.
"You, my ugly little friend, have committed the grave crime of striking the prime minister's son!" Len's heart dropped into his stomach. "I think you know what that means, don't you? I think your family will have to compensate me for the damage you have caused me. Perhaps the revocation of a title or two would be sufficient. . ."
tump tump tump tump
Everyone in the room besides Len and Rishtahn turned their eyes to the source of the sound, the two of them currently locked in an intense game of chicken.
"Mind the noise please, I'm busy lecturing a pair of criminals and I want to make sure they hear me." It was odd that someone would make so much noise even if they were in a rush, but Rishtahn had more important matters on his mind.
"What's going on here."
- - - - -
Even though Diana was the one who had called for him, she could not quite express the feeling she was experiencing right now.
When first she realized Len had protected her from harm, she panicked. She kept her cool externally, but her first reaction was to call for Donovan.
When Len once again put himself in harms way, she felt guilt. This was supposed to be her burden to bear. She could handle a bit of pain, couldn't she?
When she heard Rishtahn threaten Len's family, her heart sank the same as his. For a noble, that was probably the equivalent of a death penalty.
When she finally picked up on the sound of Donovan's boots on the wooden panels after what felt like an eternity, she felt a great deal of relief.
But when he finally entered the room, almost instantly getting a grip on the general situation, she could not help but shiver.
He had not come as a knight in shining armor.
Was this what her grandfather warned her about?
Was this the 'beast most grotesque and violent'?
Donovan's attention was not focused on her, the normal reaction of a concerned hero.
Donovan's voice displayed no concern.
Donovan's presence wasn't just comforting her, it was scaring her.
His eyes looked as if they were glued open, no blinking, not moving around the room.
Two pupils, cold and callous, focused directly on the threat he had identified.
His body immediately abandoned any pretense of a formal gait, his muscles loosening and tightening in the places they needed to be to fight.
Slowly, firmly, he took his first step in Rishtahn's direction.
- - - - -
Len didn't need to see Donovan to know he had arrived, Len could feel him. Right now, he was feeling him more than ever. Who else could make a room's temperature drop with just a change in attitude? Who else could dominate the crowd's attention without so much as an action to address them?
Perhaps only the Arboreal Maiden reached that standard, at least as far as Len knew.
"Ah, so the uncivilized cur has finally made an appearance! How grand! Stay over there would you? I'm in the middle of teaching this whore of a woman the proper way to act around her betters."
top top top
Len almost fell over. Usually Donovan would address a comment like that. Normally Donovan would say something.
But not now.
Now he was completely silent, not even his breath making it to Len's ears. The only thing he could hear was the beating of his heart, synchronized with his footsteps.
"I said I would deal with you later didn't I? Be a good peon and wait your turn!"
Finally, Donovan entered Len's line of sight. His legs almost gave out as he felt his stomach churning.
"I said leave!" Rishtahn readjusted himself to face Donovan, his raised right hand to send a slap towards Donovan's left cheek.
It went without saying that such a mindlessly made attack didn't even make it past his shoulders. It was blocked, naturally, by his left arm. But Donovan didn't just brush it off. The momentum of the hand now gone and a vicious sneer on Rishtahn's face, Donovan brought his arm back down over and around this lazily extended arm, locking just in front of the elbow.
From what Len remembered, this was the point where Rishtahn would end up flying. This was not what happened.
Donovan instead hoisted this arm up with his forearm, creating a sudden amount of extreme leverage on the elbow in the direction opposite it's preferred bending direction -
krrk
- snapping it immediately. Donovan did not stop there, in fact he didn't even give Rishtahn enough time to scream. Pulling even further to get Rishtahn's face at an appropriate distance, Donovan let loose a nasty right hook.
POW
His arm now bending the wrong direction and his face already bloodied, Rishtahn's pain finally evoked a response. An ear rending scream the likes most present had never heard before escaped his mouth. He didn't have the time to get an entire breath out before he was hoisted back into position by his damaged arm, just to get blasted again by Donovan's right fist.
POW
It shut him up immediately, replacing his screaming with a pathetic gasping for air. But he wouldn't fall unconscious. The pain in his left arm was too great for his brain to shut off just yet, especially not from a blow to the front.
POW
Another hoist, pain scorching it's way into his mind, another incredibly solid impact to his face.
POK
Another hoist, a punch that broke his nose.
POW
As the blood started gushing down his face, Rishtahn's body finally gave out. His elbow completely gave out, ligaments, muscles, cartilage, ripping and tearing to the point where Donovan could no longer get leverage. Like a piece of paper that had been folded over and over, the arm would not put up any resistance.
That was not enough to escape though.
Donovan, eyes still wide open, pulled a barely conscious Rishtahn close to him and readjusted his hold. His body went up, and then it came down. Head first.
In an instant, Donovan was back on his feet, walking around towards Rishtahn's head. Don took a moment to analyze his condition before raising his right boot and -
"DONOVAN!!!!"
A cry, no, a screech from Diana finally snapped him out of his trance, but his boot had yet to return to the ground. He blinked, finally, as his eyes left Rishtahn's face and looked to Diana. Other than that, there was no change in his expression. He did not smile, he did not frown, he only put his boot down before marching over to her.
- - - - -
Diana was sick beyond words, frightened beyond belief at the scene she had just witnessed. He did not plan to stop at curtailing the threat, he had moved to eliminate it. Donovan had almost killed a man.
Those were his dress boots. They were worn during parades and to formal gatherings, and they had some unique characteristics. Among those traits, a metal plate on the back of the right heel, meant to make a certain sound when he stomped at rest. If he had gone through with the stomp he had prepared for, the floor would have been stained by the brain matter of her assailant.
Diana knew that was an intentional decision as well, if she hadn't cried out in terror then Donovan would have become a murderer.
"Are you okay?" There was concern in his eyes, but the rest of his face had yet to break. "Are you hurt?"
Tension leaving her body, Diana struggled to get a handle on her breathing. She wanted to cry, not for herself but for the monster she had just been made aware of.
"Diana?"
"I'm fine." Diana grabbed out for his hand, bringing it up to her cheek and leaning into it. "I'm fine. Len protected me."
Donovan looked down into her eyes, his gaze softening further as he confirmed her condition. Gently, he pulled her into his chest as she began to weep. For the second time today he found himself comforting a distraught woman, but he couldn't afford to stay still this time. Diana needed to be moved away from this place, away from the threat.
But he wasn't going to forget an important job.
Slowly, he reached his free hand out to Len, ruffling his hair as he made eye contact.
"Thank you, Len."
cakeonfrosting . . . this party is coming to a close I think. Just one more chapter for Nemo before we get to the afterparty and the aftermath. . .
