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haebinAs I promised here is the next chapter of 'The Mistress of the Shadowland'. I hope I can write more when I am at Jutta's. XD
Have fun reading and I hope you'll enjoy it :)
♥
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V
Anwyn took the cloth in her hand and moistened it in a medium-sized bowl filled with fresh spring water that she had fetched when Trálír had brought the horses into the run.
She bent down and gently wiped the blood from his upper arm before approaching the wound from the first spear attack. Trálír thought it was just a scratch, but as he watched Anwyn carefully clean it, he realized that the spear had not hit him deeply but had torn open the flesh for several centimeters.
That was a wound that needed stitching, he thought, and his gaze followed Anwyn as she dipped the cloth back into the bowl.
As she cleaned his wound, she did so carefully and gently.
"I'm going to have to stitch this up," she said softly, looking at him. Her face was only a few centimeters away from his. "Will you allow me to do this?"
Trálír nodded. Anwyn took a step back, carefully washed out the cloth and then took care of the long scratch that ran across his chest. She carefully cleaned the injured skin, always taking care not to exert too much pressure.
"I think it will be enough for this wound if we disinfect it. It's not so deep that we need to stitch it up," Anwyn said as she turned to the table to clean the cloth again.
Without another word to him, she bent down and gently wiped the blood from his chest. With soft movements, she slid from his left to his right nipple, then carefully ran the wet cloth over his abdominal muscles. Trálír, whose face was so close to hers, only would have to turn slightly to the side to catch a kiss from her, but he reminded himself that this was not the right time. Instead, his gaze followed her hands and watched them glide over his muscles.
He noticed that there was a trail of dried blood from his navel to the waistband of his pants and he swallowed hard. To take his eyes off Anwyn's skillful hands that were cleaning him intently, he looked straight ahead into her cleavage, which gave him a deep insight as she stood bent forward towards him.
"Gods," whispered Trálír, quickly putting his head back and closing his eyes. Anwyn paused uncertainly and looked up at him, frowning. Had she missed something? Was the Elf weakened?
"Are you not feeling well, Trálír? Are you dizzy?" she asked and saw him shake his head, biting his lips.
"No, no," he replied placatingly, his eyes still closed as he clasped the legs of the chair with his hands so as not to show how nervous he was. "It's... I was just surprised by the coldness of the water."
"Then I can go on?" Anwyn asked, her voice full of innocence.
"Of course," Trálír replied, his voice sounding a little shaky. When he felt the damp cloth under his navel, he held his breath.
"Do you feel any pain here?" asked Anwyn when she noticed the tension in his body. "That would be unusual because there is no obvious wound that I can see."
She bent down to examine the skin around Trálír's navel. She carefully probed the skin, trying to feel for swelling or bruising.
Trálír, who was still sitting on the chair with his eyes closed and his head leaning back, was well aware of how close her face and lips were to his skin.
And to the bulge in his trousers, which he damned to all nine hells of Fairún at that moment.
Trálír felt Anwyn take the damp cloth from his skin and heard her rinsing it in the bowl. He tried to concentrate on the sounds around him to regain control of his body. But Anwyn's proximity and the light, unobtrusive smell of lavender didn't make it easy for him.
"I'll disinfect the wounds now," Trálír heard her say and the next moment he felt an unpleasant burning sensation which he gratefully accepted as he could now concentrate on the pain.
He took a deep breath while Anwyn carefully cleaned the wound with alcohol. When she had cleansed it on his upper arm to her satisfaction, she disinfected the scratch on Trálír's chest, who unconsciously held his breath as he felt Anwyn's fingers on his skin.
"Wait here for a moment, Trálír," Anwyn said. "I'll get some fresh water and then stitch up your wound."
She took the bowl in her hands, left the house and went to the spring, where she first washed her hands carefully and then poured the water mixed with blood onto the grass next to her, washed out the bowl and filled it with fresh water.
She shook her head as she thought about what had happened that morning. Trálír's surprise visit, the ride, the moment Anwyn kissed the elf, the attack of the sea devils.
It was as if she had experienced several different lives in just a few hours and she felt a little overwhelmed by all the emotions raging inside her.
I'd better concentrate on Trálír and his wound, Anwyn scolded herself. Everything else is irrelevant at the moment.
When Anwyn re-entered the house, she saw that Trálír was sitting on the chair, his head turned towards the door, looking at her.
It seems he has regained his self-control, Anwyn thought and had to stifle a smile. She had been well aware that her closeness and touch had upset Trálír somewhat.
But even Anwyn had to admit that it hadn't been easy for her to concentrate on cleaning his wounds while the High Elf sat half-naked in front of her.
She had been able to touch his stomach muscles through the damp cloth and Anwyn had hoped that he hadn't noticed that she was also struggling with herself. In the end, Anwyn had given in to reason and not kissed him, even though everything inside her had wanted to.
She put the bowl on the table, grabbed the wooden stool that stood in front of her bed and placed it in front of the chair Trálír was sitting on.
Then she turned her back to him, opened her wooden chest, which was only two steps away, and took out a small casket carved from wood.
As she sat down on the wooden stool, she opened the casket and Trálír saw that it contained a thin hook to be used as a needle. Trálír watched attentively as Anwyn first rubbed her hands with alcohol, then reached for the needle and disinfected it as well before threading in a long horsehair.
She carefully placed her left hand on the wound and began the single-button suture technique she had read about in one of her books. Trálír did not make a sound but watched as Anwyn concentrated on stitching the wound.
"That's a good job," Trálír praised in an appreciative voice when she had stitched the wound. "An High Elf healer couldn't have done a better job."
"Thank you," Anwyn replied with a smile and Trálír saw her cheeks redden slightly with pride. Trálír reached for his tunic, but she took it from his hands and shook her head.
"I'll give you one of my father's," she said, rising from her stool. "I don't think you should wear this bloody thing again. We want the wound to heal well."
"But wouldn't your father notice?" Trálír asked, frowning, and Anwyn shrugged with a smile.
"I'll just tell him that a fox stole some of the laundry."
*****
It wouldn't be long now before the sun would sink behind the horizon. Anwyn stood frowning at the door and watched as the dark red in the sky changed to a deep purple and evening slowly fell.
Her father always came home in time for sunset and the fact that he hadn't shown up yet filled Anwyn with fear. Of course, she knew about the dangers of the sea and the coastal areas, but after experiencing for the first time today how narrowly Trálír and she had escaped death, she could not get rid of the thought that something had happened to her father.
Trálír was skilled with a sword. If she and her father had faced these monsters alone, none of them would have survived.
Anwyn stood on tiptoe and stared at the sea, which was difficult to see in the twilight. Then she suddenly noticed a movement and narrowed her eyes to see better.
When she recognized her father's boat, she lowered her shoulders in relief. She knew that he had forbidden her to go to the beach, but Anwyn was so happy to see him that she ran across the sand towards him.
"Father," she called to him, who raised his head in surprise. "Why are you only coming home now? I was worried about you."
Anwyn caught up with him and took the heavy basket from him, which was filled to the brim with fish. Together they walked back to the house while he said: "I find it hard to describe but it felt like the sea was upset. Something felt wrong, there were even sharks to see."
Unsure, Anwyn looked at her father as he leaned against the doorframe and took off his boots.
"Sharks?"
He nodded. "You don't see them often, so I was even more surprised to see them near the coast."
Anwyn bit her lower lip and stepped quickly into the house to put the basket on the table. She knew that the Sahuingins were capable of commanding sharks. The thought that they would have managed to overpower her and Tralir and drag them into the shallows to be torn apart by the sharks sent shivers down her spine.
Anwyn's father sighed as he entered the small house, which was more or less lit by a single candle, and sat down at the table. He groaned in pain as his joints ached after a long day of hard labor. Anwyn looked at her father sadly.
"Why don't you lie down on the bed for a while, Father?" she suggested. "Get some rest while I make dinner. And I'll take care of the fish."
Her father looked on sorrowfully from his deep-set eyes. "It will take hours, Anwyn."
"I know, Father," she replied, giving him a gentle smile. "But that shouldn't be your worry."
Slowly he rose from the chair, his face showing the pain that plagued him so much. Anwyn watched with concern as her father dragged himself to his bed and lay down on it with a groan.
"I wanted to apologize for my behavior, Father."
Doran turned his head in Anwyn's direction and looked at her questioningly.
"Your warning about the beach. I wasn't aware that..." Anwyn broke off and shook her head apologetically. "You were right, father. Everything outside this house is a great danger. I should not have forgotten that."
"Anwyn, child..." Doran smiled sadly, raised his arm a little and Anwyn joined him at the bedside. She went to her knees, clasped his hand and looked at him tenderly.
"I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."
"You won't, Father," Anwyn promised and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead while her hand gripped his tightly. "You won't."
Much Love,
Anke~
Have fun reading and I hope you'll enjoy it :)
♥
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V
Anwyn took the cloth in her hand and moistened it in a medium-sized bowl filled with fresh spring water that she had fetched when Trálír had brought the horses into the run.
She bent down and gently wiped the blood from his upper arm before approaching the wound from the first spear attack. Trálír thought it was just a scratch, but as he watched Anwyn carefully clean it, he realized that the spear had not hit him deeply but had torn open the flesh for several centimeters.
That was a wound that needed stitching, he thought, and his gaze followed Anwyn as she dipped the cloth back into the bowl.
As she cleaned his wound, she did so carefully and gently.
"I'm going to have to stitch this up," she said softly, looking at him. Her face was only a few centimeters away from his. "Will you allow me to do this?"
Trálír nodded. Anwyn took a step back, carefully washed out the cloth and then took care of the long scratch that ran across his chest. She carefully cleaned the injured skin, always taking care not to exert too much pressure.
"I think it will be enough for this wound if we disinfect it. It's not so deep that we need to stitch it up," Anwyn said as she turned to the table to clean the cloth again.
Without another word to him, she bent down and gently wiped the blood from his chest. With soft movements, she slid from his left to his right nipple, then carefully ran the wet cloth over his abdominal muscles. Trálír, whose face was so close to hers, only would have to turn slightly to the side to catch a kiss from her, but he reminded himself that this was not the right time. Instead, his gaze followed her hands and watched them glide over his muscles.
He noticed that there was a trail of dried blood from his navel to the waistband of his pants and he swallowed hard. To take his eyes off Anwyn's skillful hands that were cleaning him intently, he looked straight ahead into her cleavage, which gave him a deep insight as she stood bent forward towards him.
"Gods," whispered Trálír, quickly putting his head back and closing his eyes. Anwyn paused uncertainly and looked up at him, frowning. Had she missed something? Was the Elf weakened?
"Are you not feeling well, Trálír? Are you dizzy?" she asked and saw him shake his head, biting his lips.
"No, no," he replied placatingly, his eyes still closed as he clasped the legs of the chair with his hands so as not to show how nervous he was. "It's... I was just surprised by the coldness of the water."
"Then I can go on?" Anwyn asked, her voice full of innocence.
"Of course," Trálír replied, his voice sounding a little shaky. When he felt the damp cloth under his navel, he held his breath.
"Do you feel any pain here?" asked Anwyn when she noticed the tension in his body. "That would be unusual because there is no obvious wound that I can see."
She bent down to examine the skin around Trálír's navel. She carefully probed the skin, trying to feel for swelling or bruising.
Trálír, who was still sitting on the chair with his eyes closed and his head leaning back, was well aware of how close her face and lips were to his skin.
And to the bulge in his trousers, which he damned to all nine hells of Fairún at that moment.
Trálír felt Anwyn take the damp cloth from his skin and heard her rinsing it in the bowl. He tried to concentrate on the sounds around him to regain control of his body. But Anwyn's proximity and the light, unobtrusive smell of lavender didn't make it easy for him.
"I'll disinfect the wounds now," Trálír heard her say and the next moment he felt an unpleasant burning sensation which he gratefully accepted as he could now concentrate on the pain.
He took a deep breath while Anwyn carefully cleaned the wound with alcohol. When she had cleansed it on his upper arm to her satisfaction, she disinfected the scratch on Trálír's chest, who unconsciously held his breath as he felt Anwyn's fingers on his skin.
"Wait here for a moment, Trálír," Anwyn said. "I'll get some fresh water and then stitch up your wound."
She took the bowl in her hands, left the house and went to the spring, where she first washed her hands carefully and then poured the water mixed with blood onto the grass next to her, washed out the bowl and filled it with fresh water.
She shook her head as she thought about what had happened that morning. Trálír's surprise visit, the ride, the moment Anwyn kissed the elf, the attack of the sea devils.
It was as if she had experienced several different lives in just a few hours and she felt a little overwhelmed by all the emotions raging inside her.
I'd better concentrate on Trálír and his wound, Anwyn scolded herself. Everything else is irrelevant at the moment.
When Anwyn re-entered the house, she saw that Trálír was sitting on the chair, his head turned towards the door, looking at her.
It seems he has regained his self-control, Anwyn thought and had to stifle a smile. She had been well aware that her closeness and touch had upset Trálír somewhat.
But even Anwyn had to admit that it hadn't been easy for her to concentrate on cleaning his wounds while the High Elf sat half-naked in front of her.
She had been able to touch his stomach muscles through the damp cloth and Anwyn had hoped that he hadn't noticed that she was also struggling with herself. In the end, Anwyn had given in to reason and not kissed him, even though everything inside her had wanted to.
She put the bowl on the table, grabbed the wooden stool that stood in front of her bed and placed it in front of the chair Trálír was sitting on.
Then she turned her back to him, opened her wooden chest, which was only two steps away, and took out a small casket carved from wood.
As she sat down on the wooden stool, she opened the casket and Trálír saw that it contained a thin hook to be used as a needle. Trálír watched attentively as Anwyn first rubbed her hands with alcohol, then reached for the needle and disinfected it as well before threading in a long horsehair.
She carefully placed her left hand on the wound and began the single-button suture technique she had read about in one of her books. Trálír did not make a sound but watched as Anwyn concentrated on stitching the wound.
"That's a good job," Trálír praised in an appreciative voice when she had stitched the wound. "An High Elf healer couldn't have done a better job."
"Thank you," Anwyn replied with a smile and Trálír saw her cheeks redden slightly with pride. Trálír reached for his tunic, but she took it from his hands and shook her head.
"I'll give you one of my father's," she said, rising from her stool. "I don't think you should wear this bloody thing again. We want the wound to heal well."
"But wouldn't your father notice?" Trálír asked, frowning, and Anwyn shrugged with a smile.
"I'll just tell him that a fox stole some of the laundry."
It wouldn't be long now before the sun would sink behind the horizon. Anwyn stood frowning at the door and watched as the dark red in the sky changed to a deep purple and evening slowly fell.
Her father always came home in time for sunset and the fact that he hadn't shown up yet filled Anwyn with fear. Of course, she knew about the dangers of the sea and the coastal areas, but after experiencing for the first time today how narrowly Trálír and she had escaped death, she could not get rid of the thought that something had happened to her father.
Trálír was skilled with a sword. If she and her father had faced these monsters alone, none of them would have survived.
Anwyn stood on tiptoe and stared at the sea, which was difficult to see in the twilight. Then she suddenly noticed a movement and narrowed her eyes to see better.
When she recognized her father's boat, she lowered her shoulders in relief. She knew that he had forbidden her to go to the beach, but Anwyn was so happy to see him that she ran across the sand towards him.
"Father," she called to him, who raised his head in surprise. "Why are you only coming home now? I was worried about you."
Anwyn caught up with him and took the heavy basket from him, which was filled to the brim with fish. Together they walked back to the house while he said: "I find it hard to describe but it felt like the sea was upset. Something felt wrong, there were even sharks to see."
Unsure, Anwyn looked at her father as he leaned against the doorframe and took off his boots.
"Sharks?"
He nodded. "You don't see them often, so I was even more surprised to see them near the coast."
Anwyn bit her lower lip and stepped quickly into the house to put the basket on the table. She knew that the Sahuingins were capable of commanding sharks. The thought that they would have managed to overpower her and Tralir and drag them into the shallows to be torn apart by the sharks sent shivers down her spine.
Anwyn's father sighed as he entered the small house, which was more or less lit by a single candle, and sat down at the table. He groaned in pain as his joints ached after a long day of hard labor. Anwyn looked at her father sadly.
"Why don't you lie down on the bed for a while, Father?" she suggested. "Get some rest while I make dinner. And I'll take care of the fish."
Her father looked on sorrowfully from his deep-set eyes. "It will take hours, Anwyn."
"I know, Father," she replied, giving him a gentle smile. "But that shouldn't be your worry."
Slowly he rose from the chair, his face showing the pain that plagued him so much. Anwyn watched with concern as her father dragged himself to his bed and lay down on it with a groan.
"I wanted to apologize for my behavior, Father."
Doran turned his head in Anwyn's direction and looked at her questioningly.
"Your warning about the beach. I wasn't aware that..." Anwyn broke off and shook her head apologetically. "You were right, father. Everything outside this house is a great danger. I should not have forgotten that."
"Anwyn, child..." Doran smiled sadly, raised his arm a little and Anwyn joined him at the bedside. She went to her knees, clasped his hand and looked at him tenderly.
"I couldn't bear the thought of losing you."
"You won't, Father," Anwyn promised and gently pressed a kiss to his forehead while her hand gripped his tightly. "You won't."
Much Love,
Anke~
(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-10 01:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-18 01:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-10 08:26 pm (UTC)Bin gespannt, wie es weitergeht ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-18 01:45 pm (UTC)Und im Urlaub ist es mir gelungen fast 5000 Worte zu schreiben ^^
(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-18 03:40 pm (UTC)Wow, Respekt! Das ist wirklich eine krasse Leistung.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-22 10:14 am (UTC)Dafür habe ich die Woche ein bisschen weniger geschrieben weil ich so viel zocke. Aber nachher möchte ich mich wieder dransetzen. :)
Ich hab so viele Ideen ♥️
(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-11 09:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-18 01:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-12 05:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-02-18 10:27 am (UTC)