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haebinHello my lovely readers! Hope you are doing well, friends. :3
It is sunday and that means, there is a new chapter!!
I hope you'll enjoy it!!
It was late at night when Trálír the Elder, his son and his accompanying soldiers arrived at Blackwater Castle. Despite the late hour, numerous servants were waiting in the brightly lit castle courtyard to receive their master and take down the traveling chests from the four carts, each pulled by two horses.
The travelling chests were not only contained the things they had needed for the journey, but were also filled with gifts and goods that the mayor of Moonhaven had given them as a farewell gift.
Trálír's traveling chest was filled to the brim with the clothes he had needed and all the books and utensils he had bought for Anwyn at Moonhavens market. As he dismounted Arod and handed Fairre his reins, an amused smile stole across his finely curved lips as he watched the two servants heave the chest off the wagon with a groan. He patted his stallion gently on the neck and strode towards the two young half-elves.
“Let me help you,” he called to the servants as he approached them.
“Trálír!” His father's angry voice echoed across the castle courtyard and he stopped, pressing his lips together in frustration because he knew exactly what his father was trying to say.
Don't you dare help the servants, for you are the ruler's son!
Trálír sighed heavily and gave the two half-elves an apologetic look, which they returned cautiously, intimidated by the ruler's presence.
Through the hustle and bustle, Trálír strode ahead of the two servants in annoyance and stared grimly ahead of him. Would there not even be one damned moment in this castle that did not remind him of his status and his duties? A moment in which Trálír could close his eyes to the truth, to his painful past, to the suffering and injustices he had seen.
His footsteps echoed heavily through the almost empty hall, as most of the servants had gathered in the courtyard to receive those returning. They would have to take care of all the horses, unharness them from the carriages, free them from saddles and bridles, while two handfuls of servants would have to carry the traveling chests and gifts into the chambers.
As Trálír walked ahead of the two half-elves who were lifting his traveling chest, he heard them groaning and moaning as it lay so heavily in their hands. He was even more annoyed that he was forbidden to help them. Yes, he knew his status. Yes, he knew what his duty was as a ruler's son, but would it really be such a crime to treat the people below his status and his servants fairly and kindly? He remembered darkly his mother and her loving and kind behavior towards the elves who lived in the castle.
A warm feeling spread through Trálír's chest as he recalled how the castle community of elves had been as close as a large family before his father intervened and began to slowly and delightfully destroy it. Heartbroken, his mother watched as the elves turned away from her in fear, avoiding looking at her or speaking to her. With each rejection of his wife by the castle inhabitants and servants present, Trálír the Elder grew in power.
His father had achieved his status as ruler through manipulation, lies and on the broken and humiliated souls of numerous high elves. And his own family.
Trálír walked darkly along the long corridor until they reached the door to his chamber. Before he could even think about opening the door, the servant slipped past him in a hurry and did so with an apologetic nod. Trálír sighed.
The two half-elves brought the traveling chest into his chamber, set it down in front of his bed and then left the room with their heads bowed. As they walked quickly past him, Trálír stepped into his chamber and closed the door behind him. He breathed in and out deeply, finding the warmth in his room, as the fire had probably been burning for hours, pleasant after the long hours on his horse's back in the icy cold.
Apart from the light given off by the fire, there were no other sources of light in the chamber, so it was mostly in darkness.
Trálír stepped through the semi-dark room, taking off his heavy felt cloak as he went and then sinking onto the edge of his bed. He put the cloak aside, then bent down to remove his boots. He placed the leather boots next to his bed and gently ran his fingertips over the dark wood of the traveling chest. He was exhausted from the long journey, the cold was in his bones and yet he could not wait for the moment to leave the castle and make his way to Anwyn on Arod's back.
Opening the chest, Trálír looked over the numerous bags of various salts, essences, ashes and other ingredients spread across his clothing. The books he had bought for Anwyn lay at the bottom of the chest. Smiling, he ran his fingertips over the cloth bags and imagined Anwyn's look of both astonishment and joy when he handed over two full leather bags full of utensils. He already knew that she would feel uncomfortable and undeserving, but he planned to make her forget this feeling as quickly as possible by telling her what possibilities his gifts would open up.
“Was your stay in Moonhaven so boring that you couldn't think of anything better to rob a herb chamber or are you planning to join the healers?”
When Teárlach's dark voice echoed through the chamber as if from nowhere, Trálír flinched and unconsciously reached for his calf, where he had concealed a dagger, a so-called mercy bringer, under his trousers.
You never knew how a fight would turn out, whether you might lose your sword or two enemies might try to overpower you, so a hidden dagger was always a good choice to be on the safe side.
The moment Trálír recognized his younger brother's voice, he released his grip on the dagger, glanced over his shoulder and saw him step out of the shadows into the light.
"Teárlach, by all the nine hells. At some point it will cost you your life if you keep sneaking around in the shadows,” Trálír said with an exasperated sigh, took a deep breath and closed the lid of his traveling chest. "I've had a long journey, I'm chilled to the bone and exhausted. And I want nothing more than a little rest and the chance to meditate. So how about you leave my chamber and find someone else..." Trálír broke off and gave his brother an annoyed look.
“… to grace them with your presence,” he added and gestured towards the door with his left hand. He felt Teárlach stride past him and watched as he walked to the desk with his back to him, then turned around with a smug grin on his face and sat with his buttocks on the edge of the desk.
Trálír bit his lip in frustration.
“Don't you appreciate my presence, brother?” Teárlach asked with feigned innocence, raising an eyebrow with a grin.
“Very well, what is your desire?” Trálír finally gave in and looked at his brother, who shrugged his shoulders.
“Tell me how your visit to Moonhaven went,” Teárlach demanded to know.
“As such gatherings go,” Trálír replied in a calm voice. "There's a lot of talking, a lot of eating, a lot of drinking and even more talking. Nothing that really matters."
“You act as if I should know how such festive occasions go.” Teárlach looked slyly at his brother from under his wreath of black eyelashes, who took note of this look wordlessly and did not respond to the reproach.
“We've had guests at this castle too, Teárlach, so you should know how such evenings go,” Trálír replied and watched his younger brother scowl with a sense of satisfaction.
“So that's all then?” asked Teárlach, his expression almost disappointed that Trálír's answer wasn't exciting enough for him.
“There was nothing really worth mentioning,” Trálír replied with a shrug. “If you're interested in how the trade between Moonhaven and us will go in the future, then you'll have to turn to Father.”
Teárlach scoffed. “As if I would willingly exchange a single word with him.”
“Then you'll have to make do with what I've told you.” Trálír shrugged and watched as Teárlach's gaze darkened for a moment before he continued.
“Then there was no elf woman to help you take your mind off things in the freezing cold of this winter?” The smile he gave Trálír was as false as his interest in his answer. Teárlach was only interested in hurting him and obviously making fun of his love for Anwyn. The older elf sighed slowly and shook his head, looking at his younger brother almost wistfully.
“Don't...” he said. “Don't.”
Teárlach raised an eyebrow, his grin almost sardonic.
“Very well, then” he replied, raising his hand and playfully brushing aside Trálír's words as if he were complying with his unspoken request.
“Aren't you interested in what I've been up to all this time?” asked Teárlach and his older brother raised his eyes wearily. What was the younger elf getting at? He had something in mind, because when Teárlach spoke, it was never without an intention behind it, he never exchanged words of kindness without being able to gain something from it.
Trálír took a deep breath. “Well, what have you been up to all this time, brother?”
“Oh, one thing or another,” he answered calmly. He pressed his hands on the wood of the surface, propped himself up and jumped off the desk. He smiled at his older brother, turned slightly to the side and let his gaze glide over him with an air of boredom.
"Unlike you, I have feasted on the female body. The icy nights alone are hard to bear, don't you think?"
Teárlach glanced over his shoulder and grinned at his older brother, who just looked at him in silence.
“After my hunger was satisfied by many a maid, some better than others, I thought I might leave the castle and roam the nearby woods,” he added and reached for a letter opener, which he deftly turned back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.
"Wandering through the woods? Without any intention?” Trálír asked, frowning.
“But who said there was no intention behind it?” replied Teárlach, clicking his tongue in a lecturing manner. "Of course there was a reason for my ... ” He interrupted himself, his smile widening. “... little ride into the forest.”
Trálír sighed. “My patience has its limits, Teárlach,” he said, his voice had a harsh undertone.
"Well, then, I will not keep you in the dark any longer, dearest Brother. I was looking for a healer."
Teárlach watched with satisfaction as Trálír's gaze darkened at the mention of a “healer” and he unconsciously frowned. The tension in his face was clearly visible.
"Why would you be looking for a healer? Are you suffering from an ailment?” he asked in a calm voice, but couldn't suppress the rising nervousness in his words. “And why doesn't it lead you to our healer then?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Teárlach turned in his brother's direction. “Because I didn't have Theldan to thank.”
“I don't understand.”
Teárlach gave an exasperated sigh.
“Very well, let me fill you in,” he began, pacing with unnerving slowness through the half-dark chamber, certain that his brother's gaze was on him.
"I was looking for a healer who had probably unknowingly done me a little favor. You know I get the occasional physical craving, don't you?"
Trálír nodded hesitantly.
"The girl was young, strong, healthy. So it was no wonder that my seed sprouted in her womb. A shame, really. Who would want a bastard?"
Trálír gritted his teeth at Teárlach's harsh words.
“But the little wench wasn't stupid because she moved her pretty arse to this healer.”
Teárlach looked at his older brother, who was sitting silently on the edge of his bed, unwilling to say a word.
"And now what can I say? That healer was extremely helpful, because the maid was able to free herself from my fruit with the help of a few herbs. If it had been me, I would have felt sorry for her, because the brat was of my blood after all."
“Get to the point, Teárlach.”
A dangerous fire glowed in Trálír's dark blue-green eyes. The younger elf grinned contentedly, a warm feeling of satisfaction spreading through his core.
“According to this, I have set out on a quest,” he continued, his voice nonchalant. “There aren't very many healers in our area, especially none that would be favorable to humans or half-elves.”
“Did you find her?” Trálír asked slowly, each word literally squeezed from his throat.
“The healer?” Teárlach's eyes glistened with amusement. His older brother nodded slowly.
“Oh yes, I did,” he replied. “What a beauty, Trálír.”
The tension between the two brothers in the dimly lit chamber was so thick it could have been cut in two with a sword.
"I literally stumbled into her, I was so busy trying to find a way through the thicket. She's tall, slender, but curvy in all the right places."
Trálír swallowed at his brother's words, closed his eyes, tried to concentrate on his breathing. But Teárlach's voice, his words, burned deep into his soul, leaving scars for eternity of fear and loss. He felt his fingers cramp, his muscles harden like stone. He found it harder to breathe as his chest tightened as he imagined what his younger brother's next words would be.
“Anwyn,” Trálír whispered.
“Oh, that is her name?” Teárlach asked with a raised eyebrow, his question feigned surprise. “So you do know her?”
The high elf raised his gaze and looked at his brother, his look a mixture of hatred and fear.
“Oh well, now I understand,” Teárlach whispered, his gaze filled with malice. "She is your lover, right? The human girl, the one who stole your heart."
“What. Did. You. Do. To. Her?” Trálír's voice was just a breath, barely audible in the dark room and even the crackling of the fireplace was louder than his whispered words.
Teárlach laughed coldly and in that moment Trálír lost all the control he had struggled to muster in the last few moments.
“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?” roared Trálír, jumping up and running at lightning speed towards his brother, who he grabbed by the throat and shoved violently against the cold stone wall. Teárlach was so surprised that he almost lost his balance, but Trálír's grip on his neck was so tight that he felt the back of his head hit the wall violently and burst open. The metallic smell of blood began to fill the room.
It is sunday and that means, there is a new chapter!!
I hope you'll enjoy it!!
It was late at night when Trálír the Elder, his son and his accompanying soldiers arrived at Blackwater Castle. Despite the late hour, numerous servants were waiting in the brightly lit castle courtyard to receive their master and take down the traveling chests from the four carts, each pulled by two horses.
The travelling chests were not only contained the things they had needed for the journey, but were also filled with gifts and goods that the mayor of Moonhaven had given them as a farewell gift.
Trálír's traveling chest was filled to the brim with the clothes he had needed and all the books and utensils he had bought for Anwyn at Moonhavens market. As he dismounted Arod and handed Fairre his reins, an amused smile stole across his finely curved lips as he watched the two servants heave the chest off the wagon with a groan. He patted his stallion gently on the neck and strode towards the two young half-elves.
“Let me help you,” he called to the servants as he approached them.
“Trálír!” His father's angry voice echoed across the castle courtyard and he stopped, pressing his lips together in frustration because he knew exactly what his father was trying to say.
Don't you dare help the servants, for you are the ruler's son!
Trálír sighed heavily and gave the two half-elves an apologetic look, which they returned cautiously, intimidated by the ruler's presence.
Through the hustle and bustle, Trálír strode ahead of the two servants in annoyance and stared grimly ahead of him. Would there not even be one damned moment in this castle that did not remind him of his status and his duties? A moment in which Trálír could close his eyes to the truth, to his painful past, to the suffering and injustices he had seen.
His footsteps echoed heavily through the almost empty hall, as most of the servants had gathered in the courtyard to receive those returning. They would have to take care of all the horses, unharness them from the carriages, free them from saddles and bridles, while two handfuls of servants would have to carry the traveling chests and gifts into the chambers.
As Trálír walked ahead of the two half-elves who were lifting his traveling chest, he heard them groaning and moaning as it lay so heavily in their hands. He was even more annoyed that he was forbidden to help them. Yes, he knew his status. Yes, he knew what his duty was as a ruler's son, but would it really be such a crime to treat the people below his status and his servants fairly and kindly? He remembered darkly his mother and her loving and kind behavior towards the elves who lived in the castle.
A warm feeling spread through Trálír's chest as he recalled how the castle community of elves had been as close as a large family before his father intervened and began to slowly and delightfully destroy it. Heartbroken, his mother watched as the elves turned away from her in fear, avoiding looking at her or speaking to her. With each rejection of his wife by the castle inhabitants and servants present, Trálír the Elder grew in power.
His father had achieved his status as ruler through manipulation, lies and on the broken and humiliated souls of numerous high elves. And his own family.
Trálír walked darkly along the long corridor until they reached the door to his chamber. Before he could even think about opening the door, the servant slipped past him in a hurry and did so with an apologetic nod. Trálír sighed.
The two half-elves brought the traveling chest into his chamber, set it down in front of his bed and then left the room with their heads bowed. As they walked quickly past him, Trálír stepped into his chamber and closed the door behind him. He breathed in and out deeply, finding the warmth in his room, as the fire had probably been burning for hours, pleasant after the long hours on his horse's back in the icy cold.
Apart from the light given off by the fire, there were no other sources of light in the chamber, so it was mostly in darkness.
Trálír stepped through the semi-dark room, taking off his heavy felt cloak as he went and then sinking onto the edge of his bed. He put the cloak aside, then bent down to remove his boots. He placed the leather boots next to his bed and gently ran his fingertips over the dark wood of the traveling chest. He was exhausted from the long journey, the cold was in his bones and yet he could not wait for the moment to leave the castle and make his way to Anwyn on Arod's back.
Opening the chest, Trálír looked over the numerous bags of various salts, essences, ashes and other ingredients spread across his clothing. The books he had bought for Anwyn lay at the bottom of the chest. Smiling, he ran his fingertips over the cloth bags and imagined Anwyn's look of both astonishment and joy when he handed over two full leather bags full of utensils. He already knew that she would feel uncomfortable and undeserving, but he planned to make her forget this feeling as quickly as possible by telling her what possibilities his gifts would open up.
“Was your stay in Moonhaven so boring that you couldn't think of anything better to rob a herb chamber or are you planning to join the healers?”
When Teárlach's dark voice echoed through the chamber as if from nowhere, Trálír flinched and unconsciously reached for his calf, where he had concealed a dagger, a so-called mercy bringer, under his trousers.
You never knew how a fight would turn out, whether you might lose your sword or two enemies might try to overpower you, so a hidden dagger was always a good choice to be on the safe side.
The moment Trálír recognized his younger brother's voice, he released his grip on the dagger, glanced over his shoulder and saw him step out of the shadows into the light.
"Teárlach, by all the nine hells. At some point it will cost you your life if you keep sneaking around in the shadows,” Trálír said with an exasperated sigh, took a deep breath and closed the lid of his traveling chest. "I've had a long journey, I'm chilled to the bone and exhausted. And I want nothing more than a little rest and the chance to meditate. So how about you leave my chamber and find someone else..." Trálír broke off and gave his brother an annoyed look.
“… to grace them with your presence,” he added and gestured towards the door with his left hand. He felt Teárlach stride past him and watched as he walked to the desk with his back to him, then turned around with a smug grin on his face and sat with his buttocks on the edge of the desk.
Trálír bit his lip in frustration.
“Don't you appreciate my presence, brother?” Teárlach asked with feigned innocence, raising an eyebrow with a grin.
“Very well, what is your desire?” Trálír finally gave in and looked at his brother, who shrugged his shoulders.
“Tell me how your visit to Moonhaven went,” Teárlach demanded to know.
“As such gatherings go,” Trálír replied in a calm voice. "There's a lot of talking, a lot of eating, a lot of drinking and even more talking. Nothing that really matters."
“You act as if I should know how such festive occasions go.” Teárlach looked slyly at his brother from under his wreath of black eyelashes, who took note of this look wordlessly and did not respond to the reproach.
“We've had guests at this castle too, Teárlach, so you should know how such evenings go,” Trálír replied and watched his younger brother scowl with a sense of satisfaction.
“So that's all then?” asked Teárlach, his expression almost disappointed that Trálír's answer wasn't exciting enough for him.
“There was nothing really worth mentioning,” Trálír replied with a shrug. “If you're interested in how the trade between Moonhaven and us will go in the future, then you'll have to turn to Father.”
Teárlach scoffed. “As if I would willingly exchange a single word with him.”
“Then you'll have to make do with what I've told you.” Trálír shrugged and watched as Teárlach's gaze darkened for a moment before he continued.
“Then there was no elf woman to help you take your mind off things in the freezing cold of this winter?” The smile he gave Trálír was as false as his interest in his answer. Teárlach was only interested in hurting him and obviously making fun of his love for Anwyn. The older elf sighed slowly and shook his head, looking at his younger brother almost wistfully.
“Don't...” he said. “Don't.”
Teárlach raised an eyebrow, his grin almost sardonic.
“Very well, then” he replied, raising his hand and playfully brushing aside Trálír's words as if he were complying with his unspoken request.
“Aren't you interested in what I've been up to all this time?” asked Teárlach and his older brother raised his eyes wearily. What was the younger elf getting at? He had something in mind, because when Teárlach spoke, it was never without an intention behind it, he never exchanged words of kindness without being able to gain something from it.
Trálír took a deep breath. “Well, what have you been up to all this time, brother?”
“Oh, one thing or another,” he answered calmly. He pressed his hands on the wood of the surface, propped himself up and jumped off the desk. He smiled at his older brother, turned slightly to the side and let his gaze glide over him with an air of boredom.
"Unlike you, I have feasted on the female body. The icy nights alone are hard to bear, don't you think?"
Teárlach glanced over his shoulder and grinned at his older brother, who just looked at him in silence.
“After my hunger was satisfied by many a maid, some better than others, I thought I might leave the castle and roam the nearby woods,” he added and reached for a letter opener, which he deftly turned back and forth between his thumb and forefinger.
"Wandering through the woods? Without any intention?” Trálír asked, frowning.
“But who said there was no intention behind it?” replied Teárlach, clicking his tongue in a lecturing manner. "Of course there was a reason for my ... ” He interrupted himself, his smile widening. “... little ride into the forest.”
Trálír sighed. “My patience has its limits, Teárlach,” he said, his voice had a harsh undertone.
"Well, then, I will not keep you in the dark any longer, dearest Brother. I was looking for a healer."
Teárlach watched with satisfaction as Trálír's gaze darkened at the mention of a “healer” and he unconsciously frowned. The tension in his face was clearly visible.
"Why would you be looking for a healer? Are you suffering from an ailment?” he asked in a calm voice, but couldn't suppress the rising nervousness in his words. “And why doesn't it lead you to our healer then?”
Shrugging his shoulders, Teárlach turned in his brother's direction. “Because I didn't have Theldan to thank.”
“I don't understand.”
Teárlach gave an exasperated sigh.
“Very well, let me fill you in,” he began, pacing with unnerving slowness through the half-dark chamber, certain that his brother's gaze was on him.
"I was looking for a healer who had probably unknowingly done me a little favor. You know I get the occasional physical craving, don't you?"
Trálír nodded hesitantly.
"The girl was young, strong, healthy. So it was no wonder that my seed sprouted in her womb. A shame, really. Who would want a bastard?"
Trálír gritted his teeth at Teárlach's harsh words.
“But the little wench wasn't stupid because she moved her pretty arse to this healer.”
Teárlach looked at his older brother, who was sitting silently on the edge of his bed, unwilling to say a word.
"And now what can I say? That healer was extremely helpful, because the maid was able to free herself from my fruit with the help of a few herbs. If it had been me, I would have felt sorry for her, because the brat was of my blood after all."
“Get to the point, Teárlach.”
A dangerous fire glowed in Trálír's dark blue-green eyes. The younger elf grinned contentedly, a warm feeling of satisfaction spreading through his core.
“According to this, I have set out on a quest,” he continued, his voice nonchalant. “There aren't very many healers in our area, especially none that would be favorable to humans or half-elves.”
“Did you find her?” Trálír asked slowly, each word literally squeezed from his throat.
“The healer?” Teárlach's eyes glistened with amusement. His older brother nodded slowly.
“Oh yes, I did,” he replied. “What a beauty, Trálír.”
The tension between the two brothers in the dimly lit chamber was so thick it could have been cut in two with a sword.
"I literally stumbled into her, I was so busy trying to find a way through the thicket. She's tall, slender, but curvy in all the right places."
Trálír swallowed at his brother's words, closed his eyes, tried to concentrate on his breathing. But Teárlach's voice, his words, burned deep into his soul, leaving scars for eternity of fear and loss. He felt his fingers cramp, his muscles harden like stone. He found it harder to breathe as his chest tightened as he imagined what his younger brother's next words would be.
“Anwyn,” Trálír whispered.
“Oh, that is her name?” Teárlach asked with a raised eyebrow, his question feigned surprise. “So you do know her?”
The high elf raised his gaze and looked at his brother, his look a mixture of hatred and fear.
“Oh well, now I understand,” Teárlach whispered, his gaze filled with malice. "She is your lover, right? The human girl, the one who stole your heart."
“What. Did. You. Do. To. Her?” Trálír's voice was just a breath, barely audible in the dark room and even the crackling of the fireplace was louder than his whispered words.
Teárlach laughed coldly and in that moment Trálír lost all the control he had struggled to muster in the last few moments.
“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?” roared Trálír, jumping up and running at lightning speed towards his brother, who he grabbed by the throat and shoved violently against the cold stone wall. Teárlach was so surprised that he almost lost his balance, but Trálír's grip on his neck was so tight that he felt the back of his head hit the wall violently and burst open. The metallic smell of blood began to fill the room.
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