Ishbosheth stood against the wall, right outside the arena where he had just beaten a lion unconscious. His chest was heaving, his throat felt like he had swallowed razors and his hands couldn't stop shaking. The door into the arena swung open and there stood Stark, his broad shoulders taking up the entire door frame. A smile crept onto Stark's face. "That's the way I taught you!" he said, slapping Ishbosheth on the shoulder. He felt like a feather and that caused him to fall to the ground.
Stark laughed and pulled Ishbosheth back up to his feet. This made him shake more, even with the strong man's arm holding his shoulder. He looked up at Stark as the man spoke again, "You're wanted by the princess, so stand yourself up."
Ishbosheth had to prop himself up against the wall to keep himself stable. When he made his way back into the arena, he found it to be much colder than it was before. The lion was still laying in the middle of the room, but Luther was standing over it, slowly passing his staff over the lion's body.
Ishbosheth walked over to the stairs that had the gate guarding them during the fight, but was now hanging open as most of the onlookers had shuffled out. He placed his hand on the rail, which felt strangely warm compared to the coolness of the large room. Making his way up to the observation deck, he saw Killian from a distance.
She came a few steps toward him as he approached and put out her hand for him to kiss. He knelt down and kissed her petite fingers. "You did well Dorian, you won for me."
Ishbosheth stayed kneeling because he felt too dizzy to stand, but also felt it'd be most appropriate. "How might I reward my champion?" he heard Killian's voice ask.
He didn't think for a second, "I'd like to see my cousin."
She was silent.
"Milady." Ishbosheth added, forgetting his propriety. He looked up at her and she was just looking back at him. "She's a work girl in Ant- your father's- house. Her name is Ana, but I don't know what her slave name is. She's a Shehawk."
Killian's eyebrows raised as if you say she knew exactly who Ishbosheth was talking about. "I'll see what I can arrange." Then she turned on her heel and went out the door at the very top of the observation deck, her flowing green dress billowing behind her.
Ishbosheth looked down at the arena from the edge of the deck. Where the lion used to be laying there was just a divot in the dirt floor, the lion was nowhere to be seen. Then Ishbosheth spotted him, coming up the stairs he had just ascended, heading toward him. Luther was trumping up behind the lion. The lion walked right up to Ishbosheth and got so close to his face he could feel the hot breath on his face.
"Alexander!" Luther yelled with his shaky voice.
The lion stood down, harrumphing. Luther came and put his hand on the lion's shoulder, "You were beaten, you must train more."
Alexander growled at Ishbosheth and turned around, heading back down the stairs.
Ishbosheth shouted down to Alexander as he ran, "You would've won! I was lucky!"
Alexander roared as he ran.
Luther turned to Ishbosheth again, "Alexander is my son. My primal son, the first, he cannot tolerate defeat. Please forgive his actions, he's quite upset."
Ishbosheth nodded.
Luther hobbled back over to the steps, saying over his shoulder, "You two will fight again, so prepare to feel his wrath again."
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