A Dinner Date

The hound gave a soft bark in confirmation as he breathed in the woman's scent.

"Does the dog need feedin' too?"

She asked, they had a few creatures in the castle grounds so she always kept a supply of scrap meat that she wouldn't feed to the slaves so that the canines could eat.

Miriel paused eating when Marcus came up beside him, gazing up at the Vampire in confusion as he set down a bowl of broccoli.

The Elves did as they were told and shared it around, taking a bite between spoonfuls of soup.

Margret gave a soft laugh and shook her head.

"Y don't know much about food now do ya?"

She replied as she readied the second course.

"Wee Elves need to eat quite a lot to keep healthy here."

After the soup was devoured she grabbed a large bowl of spinach salad from the enchanted cooler room and set down a plate of steak for them to share, which they all started to dig into along with the broccoli.

"They need grains, meat, fruit and vegetables to replace their blood each day. Grains are in the bread, vegetables are in the soup then they get meat and some leafy greens and fruit afterwards for vitamins."

She had taken care of the Elves for a long time, she could get even the most anemic elf back on their feet.

"With all the food they eat ye would think they'd get fat, but their wee bodies work so hard."

"No. He'll feed on tonight's hunt."

The Hound was all right for food. Marcus would take him on hunts often enough to feed him well. The hunts would make sure the Hound wouldn't get lazy, too. He didn't want it pampered and have food bought to it all the time.

Marcus bristled as Margret asked the condescending question, harsh blue eyes narrowing at her.

He hated it when things he didnt know were bought to his attention with people around to witness it.

He retreated from the table, moving to lean against a counter a fair distance away from the gathering, as if that would save him the embarrassment of being bought up in front of his own slaves.

His strong arms crossed over his chest and one leg kicked over the other so he could cross his ankles.

Margret took no notice of the Prince's glares, a little teasing served him right for not bothering to visit in four hundred years.

The Elves looked up nervously but when given a dismissive wave from the woman they promptly went back to eating.

Once they were done Miriel got up from his spot, went to the sink and stacked his empty plate neatly on the pile before washing his hand and padding back over to Marcus.

Marcus watched his Elf as he ate and went to stack his plate by the sinks.

When Miriel stopped in front of him, Marcus reached out to hook his finger under the boy's chin, lifting it so he could get a good look at his face. It was really the first time he'd taken the time to actually get a good solid look at the Elf.

He could definitely see why his mother enjoyed him.

"Come."

Marcus pushed off the counter and meandered towards the Hound lounging by the kitchen doorway.

Miriel looked up at Marcus nervously, he was wary of having the Prince touching him, he never knew what the man was thinking or what he would do next.

Even as far as elves went Miriel was pretty, the amount of times he had been mistake for a girl was infinite.

He gave a small nod and followed after him, if it didn't matter who in the royal family he was loyal to then he had to behave himself.

Marcus' hand stroked over the Hound's neck gently when he was close enough.

He couldn't help the little smirk curling his lips. He knew he'd be constantly grinning around the Hound for weeks.

He couldn't quite believe that such a beautiful creature was his.

The Hound gave a grumbling purr as his neck was stroked, leaning into the touch, usually it was more of an aloof creature but it would always accept it's Master's touch.

Miriel followed closely behind, still timid of getting to close to the creature, though he had sat on it's back without harm and Marcus had instructed it to not hurt him.

Though he had strong doubts about the Hound's intelligence.

"What are you going to call it?"

He asked softly, looking at the great beast, in his mind he was referring to it as monster.

Marcus arched a brow at Miriel at the question.

Call it?

"It's a mount, not a pet." He wasn't one to name a mount. It promoted too much affection and attachment. Not good for a war steed.

His hand curled in the Hound's fur, guiding it once again out of the kitchen.

Miriel's lips pursed together a little at the response he got, for a moment he almost felt bad for the creature.

It would serve and inevitably die by Marcus' side and the man didn't even thing it warranted giving it a name.

He felt a spark of defiance and a need to name it now, just to punish Marcus for his mentality toward things that he decided he owned.

The Hound on the other hand took no notice and walked as it was prompted, moving at a steady pace to be beside the man.

His fingers curled and stroked through the tuft of fur at the nape of the Hound's neck. He almost couldn't believe the Hound was here and his. Actually his.

He felt the need to be constantly touching it, just to make sure that it was definitely still there and definitely staying at his side.

His Hound.

He led the Hound and Miriel through the hallways towards his room. Now was a good time to get them settled in.

The Hound gave another grumbling purr as his neck was stroked, this brand of affection was foreign but quite welcome.

Still it longed for the excitement of the hunt and the warm, soft feeling of a fresh kill beneath it's paws.

Though it would wait, it had only just established it's Master and the taste of his blood still lingered on his tongue.

He licked his lips, taking the last of the blood from between his teeth, savoring it for a moment more.

Marcus pushed open the door to his chambers and strolled inside with a smile on his face.

Letting go of the Hound, he ruffled his fingers through his hair, messing it up as he stretched in a very feline way. It felt good to be back in the comfort of his room, though it felt off-kilter without Sigil doing exercises on the floor, or lounging on the window seat, or napping on the bed.

The Vampire stretched out on the bed, arms and legs spreading wide as he stared up at the stone ceiling.

Miriel stepped into the room tentatively, looking around the Prince's chamber, from what he had heard he expected it to look more like a dungeon but it was home to a great deal of plant life, which all seemed to be taken very good care of.

The Hound moved to lay down at the foot of his Master's bed and low it had an air of relaxing around it, it was clear to see that the creature was still alert and surveying it's surroundings.

Miriel stepped forward, his hand gracing over the leaves of a plant that Marcus had once gifted to Sigil, a great many years ago when the Vampire was still a child.