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haebinHey, I am a little bit out of words at the moment.
But I hope you can enjoy the newest Chapter!
♥
Trálír's words sounded distant as Anwyn became aware of them and it took her a moment to come back to reality. While she had been thinking of the old legend, she had unconsciously followed Trálír's steps until they had finally reached Wheeping Cliff. As they both walked through a row of closely spaced trees, the view of the shimmering dark blue ocean in front of them stretched to the horizon. Given the height at which they were standing, Anwyn swallowed nervously and unconsciously took a step back.
‘We've made it,’ said Trálír, taking a deep breath, as the tough climb to the cliff had also taken its toll on him physically. His knees ached from the steep climb and his lungs burned painfully.
He glanced over his shoulder and looked at Anwyn, who was standing hesitantly behind him. She had intertwined her fingers and was massaging them nervously. Trálír frowned, knowing that this was always a sign that something was bothering Anwyn. He raised his arm in her direction and smiled gently, a silent invitation to step towards him and to take his hand could be read in his eyes.
She walked carefully towards Trálír and slowly put one foot in front of the other until they were only a horse's length away from the precipice. Trálír looked at her in silence, her hand in his, as Anwyn took another step, her heart beating fast. He watched as her right hand slipped into her apron and reached for the unfamiliar object. Anwyn held it in her closed fist. Her eyes filled with tears as she held her hand over the abyss.
Her throat tight, she closed her eyelids, took a deep breath and opened her hand, feeling the coin drop into the depths in an instant.
Relief filled Anwyn and she sank to the ground with a heavy sigh. As she sat on the earthy floor, she pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her gaze fixed thoughtfully on the horizon. Trálír put down his weapons, stepped behind Anwyn and sat down as well. Spreading his legs, he took a seat behind her, nestled his chest against her back and wrapped his arms around her legs. Their hands clasped together wordlessly while his chin rested on Anwyn's shoulder and they watched the sun slowly set in the silence of the dawning night.
*****
Doran stood in the darkness of the night, a lighted candle in his left hand and a fish knife in his right. His gaze travelled steadily from west to east without being able to make out anything in the darkness. His old heart was beating fast with worry, his throat was tight and his mouth dry.
Ever since he had come home from his daily catch and realised that neither his daughter nor the elf or the half-elves were present, he had wondered what had happened. Numerous explanations had occurred to him, such as the possibility that Anwyn had lost track of time again in the forest looking for herbs or mushrooms, that the half-elves were already on their way back to the castle and that the high elf might not have been able to join them today. It was also possible that his daughter would visit the village market in the elf's presence, but at the same time the old fisherman wondered whether she would actually do so. Not many people had ever seen the elven ruling family, but perhaps there were one or two who knew what the ruler's son looked like? Would Anwyn and especially the elf want to take that risk?
The housework had been done, the fish from yesterday's catch gutted, the animals already back in the stable and to his astonishment Doran realised that the elf's stallion was also standing next to his old donkey.
What had happened? Why was the stallion here, in his stable? What was the meaning of all this? And where was his daughter?
The fear in Doran's heart was so big that for a brief moment he considered going into the forest to look for her. And if he couldn't find her in the forest, then his path would lead him to the beach. But in the next moment he called himself back to his senses. He was an old man, he was no danger to the animals and beasts of the forest, he could not defend himself even if he had a sword at hand. He was just a simple fisherman, not skilled in the use of weapons, not skilled in moving quietly or hearing when someone or something was sneaking up on him. The danger that something would happen to him, that perhaps several gnolls, a pack of wolves or a bear would cross his path, was too big. And yet the knowledge that he could not leave his farm to look for his daughter almost drove him mad.
The old man stood helplessly in the darkness, not knowing what to do, not knowing how much time had passed and how many gods he had begged to protect his child. The fact of not knowing if Anwyn was safe weighed heavily on Doran's heart, for he was only too aware that his relationship with his daughter had been difficult in recent weeks. And the blame lay with him, his stubbornness, his mistrust of the ruler's son and his own inability to trust his daughter and her own feelings and decisions.
Doran felt the fear in him grow stronger with each passing moment, but he stood still, not moving a step, trying to make out something in the darkness that would show him that Anwyn was approaching the courtyard.
Suddenly something rustled near him, Doran turned to his left and saw a faint glow breaking through the darkness. Without thinking about it, he ran towards the source of the light.
‘Anwyn!’ burst out the old man as he recognised the figure of his daughter. She looked at him in surprise as he ran towards her and pulled her into his arms. ‘Child, Anwyn, are you alright? Has something happened to you? Where have you been? I was so worried.’
Her father's hands slid through Anwyn's hair, touched her cheeks, grabbed her hands as he took a step backwards to look at her scrutinisingly. Anwyn looked in surprise at Trálír, whose gaze was also on her father, irritation in his eyes.
‘Father, there's no need to be upset,’ Anwyn replied, squeezing his hands reassuringly. ‘I needed to do something important and Trálír accompanied me.’
Doran looked at his daughter, who realised that her father's chest was rising and falling frantically, drops of sweat standing out on his forehead, and he cleared his throat nervously.
‘I was afraid for you,’ he confessed to her quietly, not ashamed of his words. ‘I came home and you were gone, I had no idea where you were or could be.’
Anwyn's shoulders slumped guiltily. ‘I'm sorry, Father, that I left the house so unexpectedly,’ she replied quietly. ‘I just had the feeling that I had to do something." Anwyn smiled sadly.
Doran nodded and there was understanding on his face, which she realised with relief. She returned her father's smile and saw him turn to Trálír, who was looking at him intently. Anwyn's heart skipped a beat for a moment and she wondered what would happen next.
‘Thank you,’ Doran said and bowed his head to Trálír, who looked at him in amazement.
‘Thank you for protecting my child.’ Trálír looked at Anwyn, who looked at him and her father with wide eyes.
‘Ehm... I... I will always make sure that Anwyn is safe and protected,’ Trálír replied in a calm voice. ‘I promise you that on my life.’
Doran returned the high elf's words with a grateful nod and turned to Anwyn.
‘It's late, child. Let's go inside,’ Doran said, pointing in the direction of the courtyard. But before they took a step, the old fisherman turned to the elf and said, ‘Would you like to stay for supper? It's not much, and only a poor hut, but I would be delighted if you would spend the evening with us.’
Trálír stared at the old man speechlessly.
‘Only if you want to, of course, Trálír.’
‘Yes, ... yes, of course,’ he replied with a warm smile.‘It would be an honour.’
*****
‘This all seems like a dream to me,’ Anwyn said softly and Trálír heard the disbelief in her voice. He leaned forward a little so that his lips almost brushed her ear and whispered: ‘This is not a dream, Anwyn. This is your new reality now.’
She turned her head in his direction so that their faces were only inches apart. ‘This will always feel like a dream, Trálír. This here...’ Anwyn pointed to the newly built stable, the enclosure for the chickens, the two new runs for the newly acquired pigs and goats and the old donkey. ‘The fact that I can dedicate myself to herbal knowledge and the art of healing, that we have come into our own,’ she continued, gently placing her hand on the high elf's cheek. ‘That I have met you.’
Trálír's smile warmed Anwyn's heart and she returned it tenderly as their gazes sank into each other.
Only a soft clearing of the throat caused the two of them to look away from each other and while Trálír grinned mischievously, Anwyn sheepishly brushed a strand of hair falling into her face behind her ear.
‘Let's eat,’ Ulthred called out, standing behind Conall and pointing to the richly laden table in the centre of the courtyard. As they were more than just two people and their father only had two stools, Ulthred and Coran had placed several bales of hay at the table for seating.
Trálír and Anwyn broke away from each other and approached the table. As Anwyn sat down, she returned her father's gaze, looking at her with pride, his smile full of affection for her.
She was wearing a dress for the special day they were celebrating, its deep yellow colour reminiscent of a field of sunflowers. Anwyn had found the fabric a few tens of days ago at the village market when a clothier from Chaulssin had stopped by on his way to Blackwater Castle. Before, she had only looked at such expensive and precious fabrics from afar, but now she stepped up to the stall and felt the slightly patronising gaze of the man dressed in the finest fabrics. His gaze was suspicious as Anwyn scrutinised the fabrics. As her fingers slid carefully over the yellow fabric that had immediately caught her eye, the clothier cleared his throat loudly. She could see in his icy blue eyes that he was wondering whether he should send her away with a harsh request when she reached for her purse and he heard the coins jingling in it.
In that moment, he lost the mistrust that was replaced by his obvious lust for silver and gold. He was deft with his words and gestures, congratulating her in her choice and how well the fabric would compliment her skin. Anwyn ignored the obviously dishonest flattery and bought some cloth along with white and green thread.
Every evening, after her daily exhausting labour, she sat at the table by the light of the oil lamp and painstakingly embroidered flower and leaf tendrils on the circular neckline of the dress, on the cuffs of her sleeves and on the hem. It was cut to emphasise the waist and widened towards the hem.
When Trálír rode into the courtyard in the morning and became reverent towards her, his eyes widened in astonishment when he saw her step out of the house in the dress. He hurriedly slid out of the saddle, left Arod standing there without tying him up, walked quickly towards her, put his hands on her waist and stole a long and passionate kiss.
Even now, as Anwyn sat at the table, Trálír could hardly take his eyes off her for a moment. He watched as her long, slender fingers sliced the bread, as she handed the plates to her father, Ulthred and Conall and filled them with food with a laugh on her full lips.
She wore a wreath of field and meadow flowers on her curly hair, reminding Trálír of the stories he had heard as a boy, of fairies and forest spirits, nymphs or cdryads.
Autumn had already arrived, which was noticeable in the cool nights and the morning mist that hid the lands of Blackwater Bay. During the day, the inhabitants could still enjoy the last warm rays of the sun before the hard and depriving time of the year would begin again.
Trálír had decided that they would celebrate the end of summer, and the completion of all their plans, with a generous meal together. The new stable and the animal enclosures were decorated with colourful ribbons and grasses that fluttered gently in the light breeze.
Conall, Ulthred and Trálír had finished building the stable ten days ago. Anwyn had then used the time to lay out the individual stalls with hay, while the two half-elves were busy stowing the stored hay and fodder in the hayloft, which could be accessed with a ladder. The animals' coops were spacious and in each one there was a trough for food and water, so that the animals were protected and safe from everyone in the icy season.
Just yesterday Ulthred and Conall had returned to the now new home with their newly acquired animals from Silverdew. Anwyn and her father were now the owners of four pigs, two goats and a billy goat, their donkey Oksa, five chickens and a rooster who greeted his new home with joy every morning when the sun rose.
But I hope you can enjoy the newest Chapter!
♥
Trálír's words sounded distant as Anwyn became aware of them and it took her a moment to come back to reality. While she had been thinking of the old legend, she had unconsciously followed Trálír's steps until they had finally reached Wheeping Cliff. As they both walked through a row of closely spaced trees, the view of the shimmering dark blue ocean in front of them stretched to the horizon. Given the height at which they were standing, Anwyn swallowed nervously and unconsciously took a step back.
‘We've made it,’ said Trálír, taking a deep breath, as the tough climb to the cliff had also taken its toll on him physically. His knees ached from the steep climb and his lungs burned painfully.
He glanced over his shoulder and looked at Anwyn, who was standing hesitantly behind him. She had intertwined her fingers and was massaging them nervously. Trálír frowned, knowing that this was always a sign that something was bothering Anwyn. He raised his arm in her direction and smiled gently, a silent invitation to step towards him and to take his hand could be read in his eyes.
She walked carefully towards Trálír and slowly put one foot in front of the other until they were only a horse's length away from the precipice. Trálír looked at her in silence, her hand in his, as Anwyn took another step, her heart beating fast. He watched as her right hand slipped into her apron and reached for the unfamiliar object. Anwyn held it in her closed fist. Her eyes filled with tears as she held her hand over the abyss.
Her throat tight, she closed her eyelids, took a deep breath and opened her hand, feeling the coin drop into the depths in an instant.
Relief filled Anwyn and she sank to the ground with a heavy sigh. As she sat on the earthy floor, she pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her gaze fixed thoughtfully on the horizon. Trálír put down his weapons, stepped behind Anwyn and sat down as well. Spreading his legs, he took a seat behind her, nestled his chest against her back and wrapped his arms around her legs. Their hands clasped together wordlessly while his chin rested on Anwyn's shoulder and they watched the sun slowly set in the silence of the dawning night.
Doran stood in the darkness of the night, a lighted candle in his left hand and a fish knife in his right. His gaze travelled steadily from west to east without being able to make out anything in the darkness. His old heart was beating fast with worry, his throat was tight and his mouth dry.
Ever since he had come home from his daily catch and realised that neither his daughter nor the elf or the half-elves were present, he had wondered what had happened. Numerous explanations had occurred to him, such as the possibility that Anwyn had lost track of time again in the forest looking for herbs or mushrooms, that the half-elves were already on their way back to the castle and that the high elf might not have been able to join them today. It was also possible that his daughter would visit the village market in the elf's presence, but at the same time the old fisherman wondered whether she would actually do so. Not many people had ever seen the elven ruling family, but perhaps there were one or two who knew what the ruler's son looked like? Would Anwyn and especially the elf want to take that risk?
The housework had been done, the fish from yesterday's catch gutted, the animals already back in the stable and to his astonishment Doran realised that the elf's stallion was also standing next to his old donkey.
What had happened? Why was the stallion here, in his stable? What was the meaning of all this? And where was his daughter?
The fear in Doran's heart was so big that for a brief moment he considered going into the forest to look for her. And if he couldn't find her in the forest, then his path would lead him to the beach. But in the next moment he called himself back to his senses. He was an old man, he was no danger to the animals and beasts of the forest, he could not defend himself even if he had a sword at hand. He was just a simple fisherman, not skilled in the use of weapons, not skilled in moving quietly or hearing when someone or something was sneaking up on him. The danger that something would happen to him, that perhaps several gnolls, a pack of wolves or a bear would cross his path, was too big. And yet the knowledge that he could not leave his farm to look for his daughter almost drove him mad.
The old man stood helplessly in the darkness, not knowing what to do, not knowing how much time had passed and how many gods he had begged to protect his child. The fact of not knowing if Anwyn was safe weighed heavily on Doran's heart, for he was only too aware that his relationship with his daughter had been difficult in recent weeks. And the blame lay with him, his stubbornness, his mistrust of the ruler's son and his own inability to trust his daughter and her own feelings and decisions.
Doran felt the fear in him grow stronger with each passing moment, but he stood still, not moving a step, trying to make out something in the darkness that would show him that Anwyn was approaching the courtyard.
Suddenly something rustled near him, Doran turned to his left and saw a faint glow breaking through the darkness. Without thinking about it, he ran towards the source of the light.
‘Anwyn!’ burst out the old man as he recognised the figure of his daughter. She looked at him in surprise as he ran towards her and pulled her into his arms. ‘Child, Anwyn, are you alright? Has something happened to you? Where have you been? I was so worried.’
Her father's hands slid through Anwyn's hair, touched her cheeks, grabbed her hands as he took a step backwards to look at her scrutinisingly. Anwyn looked in surprise at Trálír, whose gaze was also on her father, irritation in his eyes.
‘Father, there's no need to be upset,’ Anwyn replied, squeezing his hands reassuringly. ‘I needed to do something important and Trálír accompanied me.’
Doran looked at his daughter, who realised that her father's chest was rising and falling frantically, drops of sweat standing out on his forehead, and he cleared his throat nervously.
‘I was afraid for you,’ he confessed to her quietly, not ashamed of his words. ‘I came home and you were gone, I had no idea where you were or could be.’
Anwyn's shoulders slumped guiltily. ‘I'm sorry, Father, that I left the house so unexpectedly,’ she replied quietly. ‘I just had the feeling that I had to do something." Anwyn smiled sadly.
Doran nodded and there was understanding on his face, which she realised with relief. She returned her father's smile and saw him turn to Trálír, who was looking at him intently. Anwyn's heart skipped a beat for a moment and she wondered what would happen next.
‘Thank you,’ Doran said and bowed his head to Trálír, who looked at him in amazement.
‘Thank you for protecting my child.’ Trálír looked at Anwyn, who looked at him and her father with wide eyes.
‘Ehm... I... I will always make sure that Anwyn is safe and protected,’ Trálír replied in a calm voice. ‘I promise you that on my life.’
Doran returned the high elf's words with a grateful nod and turned to Anwyn.
‘It's late, child. Let's go inside,’ Doran said, pointing in the direction of the courtyard. But before they took a step, the old fisherman turned to the elf and said, ‘Would you like to stay for supper? It's not much, and only a poor hut, but I would be delighted if you would spend the evening with us.’
Trálír stared at the old man speechlessly.
‘Only if you want to, of course, Trálír.’
‘Yes, ... yes, of course,’ he replied with a warm smile.‘It would be an honour.’
‘This all seems like a dream to me,’ Anwyn said softly and Trálír heard the disbelief in her voice. He leaned forward a little so that his lips almost brushed her ear and whispered: ‘This is not a dream, Anwyn. This is your new reality now.’
She turned her head in his direction so that their faces were only inches apart. ‘This will always feel like a dream, Trálír. This here...’ Anwyn pointed to the newly built stable, the enclosure for the chickens, the two new runs for the newly acquired pigs and goats and the old donkey. ‘The fact that I can dedicate myself to herbal knowledge and the art of healing, that we have come into our own,’ she continued, gently placing her hand on the high elf's cheek. ‘That I have met you.’
Trálír's smile warmed Anwyn's heart and she returned it tenderly as their gazes sank into each other.
Only a soft clearing of the throat caused the two of them to look away from each other and while Trálír grinned mischievously, Anwyn sheepishly brushed a strand of hair falling into her face behind her ear.
‘Let's eat,’ Ulthred called out, standing behind Conall and pointing to the richly laden table in the centre of the courtyard. As they were more than just two people and their father only had two stools, Ulthred and Coran had placed several bales of hay at the table for seating.
Trálír and Anwyn broke away from each other and approached the table. As Anwyn sat down, she returned her father's gaze, looking at her with pride, his smile full of affection for her.
She was wearing a dress for the special day they were celebrating, its deep yellow colour reminiscent of a field of sunflowers. Anwyn had found the fabric a few tens of days ago at the village market when a clothier from Chaulssin had stopped by on his way to Blackwater Castle. Before, she had only looked at such expensive and precious fabrics from afar, but now she stepped up to the stall and felt the slightly patronising gaze of the man dressed in the finest fabrics. His gaze was suspicious as Anwyn scrutinised the fabrics. As her fingers slid carefully over the yellow fabric that had immediately caught her eye, the clothier cleared his throat loudly. She could see in his icy blue eyes that he was wondering whether he should send her away with a harsh request when she reached for her purse and he heard the coins jingling in it.
In that moment, he lost the mistrust that was replaced by his obvious lust for silver and gold. He was deft with his words and gestures, congratulating her in her choice and how well the fabric would compliment her skin. Anwyn ignored the obviously dishonest flattery and bought some cloth along with white and green thread.
Every evening, after her daily exhausting labour, she sat at the table by the light of the oil lamp and painstakingly embroidered flower and leaf tendrils on the circular neckline of the dress, on the cuffs of her sleeves and on the hem. It was cut to emphasise the waist and widened towards the hem.
When Trálír rode into the courtyard in the morning and became reverent towards her, his eyes widened in astonishment when he saw her step out of the house in the dress. He hurriedly slid out of the saddle, left Arod standing there without tying him up, walked quickly towards her, put his hands on her waist and stole a long and passionate kiss.
Even now, as Anwyn sat at the table, Trálír could hardly take his eyes off her for a moment. He watched as her long, slender fingers sliced the bread, as she handed the plates to her father, Ulthred and Conall and filled them with food with a laugh on her full lips.
She wore a wreath of field and meadow flowers on her curly hair, reminding Trálír of the stories he had heard as a boy, of fairies and forest spirits, nymphs or cdryads.
Autumn had already arrived, which was noticeable in the cool nights and the morning mist that hid the lands of Blackwater Bay. During the day, the inhabitants could still enjoy the last warm rays of the sun before the hard and depriving time of the year would begin again.
Trálír had decided that they would celebrate the end of summer, and the completion of all their plans, with a generous meal together. The new stable and the animal enclosures were decorated with colourful ribbons and grasses that fluttered gently in the light breeze.
Conall, Ulthred and Trálír had finished building the stable ten days ago. Anwyn had then used the time to lay out the individual stalls with hay, while the two half-elves were busy stowing the stored hay and fodder in the hayloft, which could be accessed with a ladder. The animals' coops were spacious and in each one there was a trough for food and water, so that the animals were protected and safe from everyone in the icy season.
Just yesterday Ulthred and Conall had returned to the now new home with their newly acquired animals from Silverdew. Anwyn and her father were now the owners of four pigs, two goats and a billy goat, their donkey Oksa, five chickens and a rooster who greeted his new home with joy every morning when the sun rose.
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Date: 2024-07-28 04:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-08-09 09:59 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2024-07-29 08:29 am (UTC)Das war so ein schönes, herzerwärmendes Kapitel, welches ich gerade gut gebrauchen konnte. Danke dafür ❤️
(no subject)
Date: 2024-08-09 10:06 am (UTC)Awww! Vielen, vielen Dank und gleichzeitig freut es mich wahnsinnig dass dieses Kapitel zur richtigen Zeit kam. ♥️