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haebinMy newest chapter and I really hope you'll enjoy it!!
♥
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V - Chapter VI - Chapter VII - Chapter VIII
The next Chapter
Anwyn was carrying the heavy canvas sack she had put over her shoulder when she left the village. The storm and the ground softened by the previous night's rain made her journey home an ordeal. Her father had insisted that she take Oksa with her, but she knew that the donkey got nervous when it started to storm. To spare him this, she had decided to walk the way to the village and back to the house.
She saw the roof of her home a few dozen meters away and sighed with relief. By the time she had gotten the various items down to the basement and stowed them away, she would fall straight into bed and not move for the rest of the day.
Anwyn noticed that the strong wind had died down noticeably and looked up at the sky, which was slowly clearing. As she made her way to the farmyard, she heard the two goats bleating excitedly.
They are probably happy that it wasn't storming any more. Maybe they and Oksa could go out for a few more hours, Anwyn thought and turned to the house.
She paused in surprise when she saw her father sitting next to the closed door. She frowned.
"Father," Anwyn called out and walked towards him. She looked at him irritated. "What are you doing out here? It's not storming anymore, but just sitting in the wind won't do your health any good."
Doran looked up at his daughter.
"You have a visitor," he said and Anwyn looked at him questioningly.
"A visitor? Who would visit me?"
Doran turned away from his daughter and stared silently at the sea. Anwyn wondered why her father was behaving so strangely and opened the door. When her gaze fell into the room, she stopped in surprise.
"Trálír?" Anwyn stared at the elf sitting at her table in confusion. "What... what are you doing here? I... I don't understand." She glanced over her shoulder at her father, who was still sitting on the stool staring out to sea, then looked at Trálír with wide eyes.
He gave her a weak smile and pointed to the table.
"Please take a seat, Anwyn."
The young woman let the sack slide to the floor, closed the door behind her and sat down at the table, unsure about the whole situation. She looked anxiously at Trálír, who, to her surprise, avoided her gaze.
"What does it all mean? Why are you here?" she asked him but he didn't answer. Anwyn saw how unhappy he looked and she reached across the table to clasp his hands in hers. She could literally see Trálír slump over.
"Trálír, my love, what has happened? What... what does this all mean? Is something wrong?" Discomfort crept into Anwyn's voice, which intensified as the elf gave no answer but stared silently at their clasped hands.
"I have a confession to make, Anwyn," Trálír began, looking at their intertwined fingers.
He's avoiding my gaze, Anwyn thought uncertainly.
"When I told you my name, I wasn't completely honest."
Trálír bit his lower lip, still not looking at her. Anwyn sat across from him in silence, the expression on her face was anxious. When he noticed that she didn't give him an answer or ask a question, he continued: "My name is Trálír. Trálír, the younger."
He lifted his gaze and looked at her uncertainly, but Anwyn's non-existent reaction led him to conclude that she didn't know what he was talking about or what he was getting at. Trálír sighed heavily.
"My father is Trálír the Elder. The ruler of the Blackwater Lands."
He saw in Anwyn's stunned expression that she had understood his words and their meaning. She still didn't say a word, holding on to his hands as if they were the saving rope in a strong current that would drag her far out into the stormy sea.
"I will be the next ruler," Trálír said softly. He looked at her apologetically.
"What are you trying to say?" Anwyn whispered, shaken.
"I have to leave ... this," he said.
"Leave? What do you mean by that? Do you have to go to another country, are you being sent to the front, to a war? Or are you going to leave ... me?"
Trálír shook his head regretfully.
"I have to go, Anwyn. I have to leave this behind, fulfill my duty to my country, to my heritage." He pulled his hands out of Anwyn's grip and slowly stood up. She looked at him in disbelief and before he could put one foot in front of the other, she grabbed his right wrist with surprising strength.
"No!" There was a mixture of desperation and bewilderment in her voice. "No, that can't be the reason. You can't leave me like that."
She shook her head and looked at Trálír in horror.
"From the moment you found me, you knew about your status, your obligations and the legacy you must inherit. If you hadn't cared about my welfare, you would surely have found a way to get under my skirts. But you didn't."
Anwyn looked at him with wide eyes. There was a deep offense in her gaze.
"Something has happened. Something that forced you to make this decision."
Trálír bit his lips together and looked at her, shaking his head. "I am so sorry, Anwyn, but I have to go and ... leave all of this behind me. It ... it was bound to happen."
"It was bound to happen? It.was.bound.to.happen?" Anwyn repeated in a whisper, and she felt a mixture of dismay and anger raging inside her like a wildfire. "As if you couldn't have foreseen it, Trálír. Don't take me for a fool."
"I don't, Anwyn," he replied helplessly. "All this is further from my mind than ever. But I have no other choice."
"And why don't you have a choice? What has happened? What will happen if you don't go?"
"Please, Anwyn..." Trálír broke off and raised his left hand as a sign that he could not answer her questions.
But her grip on his wrist was as unyielding as her questions.
"No, I won't accept that," Anwyn said, shaking her head stubbornly. "If you leave me, then you owe me the reason why."
Trálír exhaled heavily. "Anwyn..." He shook his head.
"You owe it to me."
The elf looked at the young woman dejectedly.
Because I can't put you in danger, it screamed in Trálír's head but his lips remained sealed. If I don't leave, then my father will find some way to separate us. Either he will send me away or he will offer you so much wealth that you will leave everything behind. And even if you were to reject this temptation, he would be able to resort to far worse means. And if it weren't for him, how many others of my people would be against you, against us? I can't even trust my own brother. I must protect you, Anwyn. Even though you may not understand this now, it is for your own good. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you because I am in Love with you. And that is why I MUST go.
"Trálír," Anwyn whispered, stifling the rising sobs in her throat. "Please... please don't do this."
"If I don't go, something will happen. Something I can't prevent and I have to protect you, Anwyn," Trálír finally replied and raised his left hand to her cheek, which he stroked tenderly. "A life by my side would make you unhappy."
"Unhappy?" she replied questioningly and looked at him with wide eyes. "Why would a life by your side make me unhappy? Not once when we've spent time together, have I ever not been happy."
"But it will happen." Trálír shook his head in despair. "Why won't you understand me, Anwyn? No one will ever accept you at my side. They will treat you with contempt, with open hatred. You'll never be a part of their lives."
"I don't want to be a part of their lives, Trálír. Don't you understand that? What do I care what humans or elves say? What do I care how they treat me? I want to be a part of your life. I want to be by your side."
Anwyn's eyes filled with tears.
"I can't do this to you," Trálír whispered in a broken voice.
"This is not your decision, Trálír. You have no right to make this decision, because this is mine. And I have chosen you, with all the consequences it will have."
Trálír carefully pulled his wrist from Anwyn's grip, who hesitantly released it. He gently cupped her face with both hands, leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. He put all the feelings he had for her into this long kiss that tasted so much like goodbye.
He hesitantly broke away from Anwyn, tears shimmering in his blue-gray eyes.
"I love you, Anwyn. Please forgive me."
And with those words, the high elf left the young woman behind and her body slumped under the pain of her broken heart.
*****
Winter had been reigning over the Blackwater Bay for weeks, burying the land beneath it with huge masses of snow and icy cold. Life in the Blackwater Land had almost come to a standstill. It was so cold that even the hunting dogs were allowed to spend day and night in the great hall.
Just like everyone else, Teárlach thought boredly as he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. A dagger slid back and forth between his fingers, which he skillfully turned on its own axis again and again. When winter had such a grip on the land, the whole existence felt like an endless wasteland. You couldn't leave the castle, riding and hunting was impossible because of the masses of snow and there were no guests at these times. Even the road to the villages was snowed over, preventing Teárlach from enjoying himself in some taverns or between the thighs of a woman. There were one or two willing maids here in the castle, but his father did not like to see him give in to his desires.
Everyone who lived in the castle hid from the cold in their chambers and bunkers and tried to defy the winter by not letting the fires go out in the few large rooms. Nevertheless, one always had the feeling that the cold was penetrating the walls and foundations of the castle.
The only room that gave a feeling of comfort and warmth was the great hall, which Teárlach was only too happy to avoid as his father stayed there from morning to night, dining and talking with his First Hand and the knights of his personal guard.
There was nothing worse for Teárlach than listening to men talking about nothing but politics and the historical context of their neighboring countries.
He usually ate his meal in silence, and in the event that he was approached during such a conversation, he showed no interest than nothing was further from his mind than devoting himself to the same old topics.
Trálír wasn't much help either, he realized. His older brother had withdrawn from everything and everyone with the onset of winter, was in his chamber day in, day out, hardly a word passed his lips.
Must be because he can't warm himself on the body of his human lover, Teárlach thought as he got up from his bed and placed the dagger on the bedside table.
Perhaps he should pay him a visit? It was certainly easier to brave this wasteland together than alone.
Teárlach reached for his boots in front of the bed and put them on. He glanced around his room, which was not lacking in luxury.
Except perhaps a woman lolling naked in the sheets next to him.
As he rose from the bed, Teárlach felt a painful tug in his loins and he let out an exasperated sigh. It had been days since he had grabbed one of the maids and pulled her into a dark corner. Teárlach had muffled her pained moans with his hand over her mouth as he had taken her. How much he had enjoyed her lack of will, her frozen body pressed against the cold castle wall while he fucked her hard.
After he had finished with her, he pressed a gold coin into her hand and smiled coldly while she furtively wiped the tears from her face with her hand.
If she told anyone about her secret meetings, who would believe her?
A simple maid whose goal was to seduce the ruler's son and perhaps be blessed with one of his bastards, which could provide her with a very comfortable existence.
Not that Teárlach wanted offspring, nothing was further from his mind. And should it come to that, he knew enough about magic to take care of it.
The fruit of his loins and the girl who bore it.
♥
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V - Chapter VI - Chapter VII - Chapter VIII
The next Chapter
Anwyn was carrying the heavy canvas sack she had put over her shoulder when she left the village. The storm and the ground softened by the previous night's rain made her journey home an ordeal. Her father had insisted that she take Oksa with her, but she knew that the donkey got nervous when it started to storm. To spare him this, she had decided to walk the way to the village and back to the house.
She saw the roof of her home a few dozen meters away and sighed with relief. By the time she had gotten the various items down to the basement and stowed them away, she would fall straight into bed and not move for the rest of the day.
Anwyn noticed that the strong wind had died down noticeably and looked up at the sky, which was slowly clearing. As she made her way to the farmyard, she heard the two goats bleating excitedly.
They are probably happy that it wasn't storming any more. Maybe they and Oksa could go out for a few more hours, Anwyn thought and turned to the house.
She paused in surprise when she saw her father sitting next to the closed door. She frowned.
"Father," Anwyn called out and walked towards him. She looked at him irritated. "What are you doing out here? It's not storming anymore, but just sitting in the wind won't do your health any good."
Doran looked up at his daughter.
"You have a visitor," he said and Anwyn looked at him questioningly.
"A visitor? Who would visit me?"
Doran turned away from his daughter and stared silently at the sea. Anwyn wondered why her father was behaving so strangely and opened the door. When her gaze fell into the room, she stopped in surprise.
"Trálír?" Anwyn stared at the elf sitting at her table in confusion. "What... what are you doing here? I... I don't understand." She glanced over her shoulder at her father, who was still sitting on the stool staring out to sea, then looked at Trálír with wide eyes.
He gave her a weak smile and pointed to the table.
"Please take a seat, Anwyn."
The young woman let the sack slide to the floor, closed the door behind her and sat down at the table, unsure about the whole situation. She looked anxiously at Trálír, who, to her surprise, avoided her gaze.
"What does it all mean? Why are you here?" she asked him but he didn't answer. Anwyn saw how unhappy he looked and she reached across the table to clasp his hands in hers. She could literally see Trálír slump over.
"Trálír, my love, what has happened? What... what does this all mean? Is something wrong?" Discomfort crept into Anwyn's voice, which intensified as the elf gave no answer but stared silently at their clasped hands.
"I have a confession to make, Anwyn," Trálír began, looking at their intertwined fingers.
He's avoiding my gaze, Anwyn thought uncertainly.
"When I told you my name, I wasn't completely honest."
Trálír bit his lower lip, still not looking at her. Anwyn sat across from him in silence, the expression on her face was anxious. When he noticed that she didn't give him an answer or ask a question, he continued: "My name is Trálír. Trálír, the younger."
He lifted his gaze and looked at her uncertainly, but Anwyn's non-existent reaction led him to conclude that she didn't know what he was talking about or what he was getting at. Trálír sighed heavily.
"My father is Trálír the Elder. The ruler of the Blackwater Lands."
He saw in Anwyn's stunned expression that she had understood his words and their meaning. She still didn't say a word, holding on to his hands as if they were the saving rope in a strong current that would drag her far out into the stormy sea.
"I will be the next ruler," Trálír said softly. He looked at her apologetically.
"What are you trying to say?" Anwyn whispered, shaken.
"I have to leave ... this," he said.
"Leave? What do you mean by that? Do you have to go to another country, are you being sent to the front, to a war? Or are you going to leave ... me?"
Trálír shook his head regretfully.
"I have to go, Anwyn. I have to leave this behind, fulfill my duty to my country, to my heritage." He pulled his hands out of Anwyn's grip and slowly stood up. She looked at him in disbelief and before he could put one foot in front of the other, she grabbed his right wrist with surprising strength.
"No!" There was a mixture of desperation and bewilderment in her voice. "No, that can't be the reason. You can't leave me like that."
She shook her head and looked at Trálír in horror.
"From the moment you found me, you knew about your status, your obligations and the legacy you must inherit. If you hadn't cared about my welfare, you would surely have found a way to get under my skirts. But you didn't."
Anwyn looked at him with wide eyes. There was a deep offense in her gaze.
"Something has happened. Something that forced you to make this decision."
Trálír bit his lips together and looked at her, shaking his head. "I am so sorry, Anwyn, but I have to go and ... leave all of this behind me. It ... it was bound to happen."
"It was bound to happen? It.was.bound.to.happen?" Anwyn repeated in a whisper, and she felt a mixture of dismay and anger raging inside her like a wildfire. "As if you couldn't have foreseen it, Trálír. Don't take me for a fool."
"I don't, Anwyn," he replied helplessly. "All this is further from my mind than ever. But I have no other choice."
"And why don't you have a choice? What has happened? What will happen if you don't go?"
"Please, Anwyn..." Trálír broke off and raised his left hand as a sign that he could not answer her questions.
But her grip on his wrist was as unyielding as her questions.
"No, I won't accept that," Anwyn said, shaking her head stubbornly. "If you leave me, then you owe me the reason why."
Trálír exhaled heavily. "Anwyn..." He shook his head.
"You owe it to me."
The elf looked at the young woman dejectedly.
Because I can't put you in danger, it screamed in Trálír's head but his lips remained sealed. If I don't leave, then my father will find some way to separate us. Either he will send me away or he will offer you so much wealth that you will leave everything behind. And even if you were to reject this temptation, he would be able to resort to far worse means. And if it weren't for him, how many others of my people would be against you, against us? I can't even trust my own brother. I must protect you, Anwyn. Even though you may not understand this now, it is for your own good. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you because I am in Love with you. And that is why I MUST go.
"Trálír," Anwyn whispered, stifling the rising sobs in her throat. "Please... please don't do this."
"If I don't go, something will happen. Something I can't prevent and I have to protect you, Anwyn," Trálír finally replied and raised his left hand to her cheek, which he stroked tenderly. "A life by my side would make you unhappy."
"Unhappy?" she replied questioningly and looked at him with wide eyes. "Why would a life by your side make me unhappy? Not once when we've spent time together, have I ever not been happy."
"But it will happen." Trálír shook his head in despair. "Why won't you understand me, Anwyn? No one will ever accept you at my side. They will treat you with contempt, with open hatred. You'll never be a part of their lives."
"I don't want to be a part of their lives, Trálír. Don't you understand that? What do I care what humans or elves say? What do I care how they treat me? I want to be a part of your life. I want to be by your side."
Anwyn's eyes filled with tears.
"I can't do this to you," Trálír whispered in a broken voice.
"This is not your decision, Trálír. You have no right to make this decision, because this is mine. And I have chosen you, with all the consequences it will have."
Trálír carefully pulled his wrist from Anwyn's grip, who hesitantly released it. He gently cupped her face with both hands, leaned forward and kissed her tenderly. He put all the feelings he had for her into this long kiss that tasted so much like goodbye.
He hesitantly broke away from Anwyn, tears shimmering in his blue-gray eyes.
"I love you, Anwyn. Please forgive me."
And with those words, the high elf left the young woman behind and her body slumped under the pain of her broken heart.
Winter had been reigning over the Blackwater Bay for weeks, burying the land beneath it with huge masses of snow and icy cold. Life in the Blackwater Land had almost come to a standstill. It was so cold that even the hunting dogs were allowed to spend day and night in the great hall.
Just like everyone else, Teárlach thought boredly as he lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling. A dagger slid back and forth between his fingers, which he skillfully turned on its own axis again and again. When winter had such a grip on the land, the whole existence felt like an endless wasteland. You couldn't leave the castle, riding and hunting was impossible because of the masses of snow and there were no guests at these times. Even the road to the villages was snowed over, preventing Teárlach from enjoying himself in some taverns or between the thighs of a woman. There were one or two willing maids here in the castle, but his father did not like to see him give in to his desires.
Everyone who lived in the castle hid from the cold in their chambers and bunkers and tried to defy the winter by not letting the fires go out in the few large rooms. Nevertheless, one always had the feeling that the cold was penetrating the walls and foundations of the castle.
The only room that gave a feeling of comfort and warmth was the great hall, which Teárlach was only too happy to avoid as his father stayed there from morning to night, dining and talking with his First Hand and the knights of his personal guard.
There was nothing worse for Teárlach than listening to men talking about nothing but politics and the historical context of their neighboring countries.
He usually ate his meal in silence, and in the event that he was approached during such a conversation, he showed no interest than nothing was further from his mind than devoting himself to the same old topics.
Trálír wasn't much help either, he realized. His older brother had withdrawn from everything and everyone with the onset of winter, was in his chamber day in, day out, hardly a word passed his lips.
Must be because he can't warm himself on the body of his human lover, Teárlach thought as he got up from his bed and placed the dagger on the bedside table.
Perhaps he should pay him a visit? It was certainly easier to brave this wasteland together than alone.
Teárlach reached for his boots in front of the bed and put them on. He glanced around his room, which was not lacking in luxury.
Except perhaps a woman lolling naked in the sheets next to him.
As he rose from the bed, Teárlach felt a painful tug in his loins and he let out an exasperated sigh. It had been days since he had grabbed one of the maids and pulled her into a dark corner. Teárlach had muffled her pained moans with his hand over her mouth as he had taken her. How much he had enjoyed her lack of will, her frozen body pressed against the cold castle wall while he fucked her hard.
After he had finished with her, he pressed a gold coin into her hand and smiled coldly while she furtively wiped the tears from her face with her hand.
If she told anyone about her secret meetings, who would believe her?
A simple maid whose goal was to seduce the ruler's son and perhaps be blessed with one of his bastards, which could provide her with a very comfortable existence.
Not that Teárlach wanted offspring, nothing was further from his mind. And should it come to that, he knew enough about magic to take care of it.
The fruit of his loins and the girl who bore it.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-03-03 06:45 pm (UTC)(But it's well written, as usual.)
(no subject)
Date: 2024-03-06 10:34 am (UTC)(Thank you so much! ❤️)
(no subject)
Date: 2024-03-04 07:29 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-03-10 11:25 am (UTC)The next chapter should come soon ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2024-03-04 07:40 pm (UTC)So very well-written!
(no subject)
Date: 2024-03-10 11:34 am (UTC)The next chapter will be up soon. ❤️
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-07 07:28 pm (UTC)Das finde ich so ein eindrucksvolles, wenn auch sehr trauriges, Bild. Du hast das perfekt ausgedrückt.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-14 08:01 pm (UTC)Vielen, vielen Dank für deine Worte, das bedeutet mir wirklich sehr, sehr viel!
❤️❤️❤️
(no subject)
Date: 2024-04-25 04:45 pm (UTC)