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haebinHey hey, you lovely and adorable people! I hope all of you had a nice Xmas/Happy Holidays and you were able to enjoy it. ♥
Here is my next chapter to read or to explore ;)
Please enjoy it!!
Trálír greeted those present with a smile on his lips as he got down on his knees and briefly stroked Yarrow, who ran up to him wagging his tail and allowing his ears to be scratched enthusiastically. The high elf straightened up, stepped to Anwyn and pressed a tender kiss on her head while she reached for his hands and looked at him in surprise.
“What brings you here at this hour?” she asked Trálír, who sat down on a stool handed to him by Conall.
“My longing for you?” he replied and while Eleri burst into a soft giggle and Doran cleared his throat a little, Anwyn felt a hot blush shoot into her face and color her cheeks.
“Trálír...” she whispered and he grinned. “Not now, my love. Please let me enjoy the moment sitting at this table with all of you.”
Anwyn nodded in understanding, but an unpleasant feeling spread through her stomach. Trálír tried to spend some time with her every day, but it was unusual for him to show up late in the evening. She tried to recognize something in his face, a sign of the reason that had brought him to her, but apart from the fact that he looked a little tired, Anwyn couldn't tell what was going on inside him.
Still, she knew there had to be a reason for his coming and hoped he would confide in her later.
Little Elyan bounced excitedly on his mother’s lap and stretched his little arms in Trálír's direction, who smiled and asked Eleri to hand him the child while she filled his bowl with soup.
Anwyn, who still had Brin on her lap, bit her lips and tried to ignore her rapidly beating heart.
You'd almost think we were family, she thought melancholically. The way we're sitting at this table, each with a child in our laps.
She sighed heavily and Trálír turned to her, his gaze questioning.
“Eat,” she told him with a smile and Trálír was only too happy to comply.
He listened with interest to Doran's stories about the catch he and Conall had made and about Brin's little adventure with the chickens, which made Trálír burst out laughing. During the meal and the animated conversations, Trálír often put his hand on Anwyn's thigh or reached for her hand. When they had all finished their meal, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her wild curls, which she now wore loose when she wasn't busy.
Each of them rose from the table, Eleri cleared away the used dishes and Anwyn grabbed Trálír's hand and pulled him slightly to one side.
“Eleri and I still have to process the catch and we'll be busy for the next few hours, probably well into the night,” she told him quietly. “But if you need time to yourself, you can retire to my campsite. Yarrow will be more than happy to keep you company.”
“Why don't you take the evening off and spend it together?” Anwyn heard Eleri ask and she turned in her direction in astonishment. She was carrying her youngest in her arms again, who was snuggling sleepily against her upper body.
“But... but... it's so much work...” Anwyn began, but was immediately interrupted by her friend, who said with a gentle smile on her lips: ”Don't worry about today's catch, I'll take care of it. And Conall has just promised to help me.” She looked to her spouse who acknowledged her words with a nod.
“I'll take care of the children then,” Doran added with a smile. “I'll spend the night here if it's all right with Eleri and Conall.” He looked at the two half-elves.
Anwyn stared baffled from one to the other. “Are you really serious?” she asked cautiously to make sure she hadn't imagined all this. As she looked at the affirmative faces of those present, Anwyn smiled shyly and whispered a thank you in a moved voice.
She turned to Trálír who looked at her with a tender smile and grabbed her hand as they walked towards the door together, Yarrow at their heels.
*****
As Anwyn slowly opened the door to her house and entered, she turned to Trálír and looked at him apologetically.
“It still feels awkward for me to invite you to our cottage, even though we've known each other for so long now and have become ... well, closer. I know you don't mind, but it's old and...” She broke off, bit her lower lip in embarrassment and shook her head in shame.
“And?” Trálír asked in a low voice as he stood in the open doorway, his blue-green eyes full of compassion.
“Poor,” Anwyn added sheepishly. “Yes, the farm has expanded, we have more food, enough animals, enough garden beds to grow our own fruit and vegetables. And I can even grow herbs and the like that I can use for healing. Our standard of living is far better than it was a few years ago and yet it still feels the same. Our life was just an existence, there was only the hard work to keep going somehow. We no longer live in the poverty that I knew from my early childhood and despite everything, all of this still seems...” She pointed into the room, shaking her head as she looked over the old furniture.
“... poor and used up,” she added with a sigh. She felt Trálír step close behind her, place his hands gently on her waist and press his face against the thick tangle of her curls, which smelled faintly of lavender.
“It doesn't matter to me, Anwyn,” he replied close to her ear. “When I walk into this house, I don't care how old the table or how crooked the stool is. This home offers so much more than that. You live in it and that alone counts for me, Anwyn. You could live in a tent or a cave and I wouldn't care. Wherever the future takes us, I will be by your side. Whether it's a castle or a small, crooked house. I would even spend my life in a small cave with you. The main thing is that I'm close to you. Nothing else matters to me.”
Anwyn reached for Trálír's hands and clasped them with her fingers, her eyes shimmering moist as she listened to his words. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath before addressing the next words to him.
“Whenever you step into this house, sit down on the rickety stool or on the camp, which couldn't be more uncomfortable, I think of you spending your life in a castle, in the splendor of numerous chandeliers, paintings, surrounded by wealth, the finest fabrics and food.”
“And even if you don't believe me, Anwyn, this crooked hut with all its poor and worn furniture, as you call it, is a place where I feel much more comfortable than in my own home.”
Anwyn felt his fingers intertwine with hers and squeeze them tenderly.
“A home that has never really been a home for me and never will be,” Trálír added confidently. “This here, your closeness, this is the place where I feel comfortable, where I belong. By your side, Anwyn.”
With a deep breath, Anwyn drew in a slow breath and turned her face to the side so that the high elf could place a kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes trustingly and leaned against his chest, safe in his embrace. The two of them stood like that in the open doorway for a while until a cool breeze drove them inside the house. Meanwhile, Yarrow had laid down in front of Anwyns campside and was dozing peacefully.
Anwyn walked to the table and lit an oil lamp, which gave off a soft light and illuminated the room, while Trálír got down on his knees and stroked Yarrow. Smiling, Anwyn looked down at the two of them before walking to the fireplace, lighting it and hanging a kettle of mint tea on the hook.
“Perhaps I could use the summer to build new furniture, Anwyn? New storage for you and your father, a new table and two or three stools? Possibly I could also make two or three new drying racks now that Conall and your father are out at sea catching fish and the like, as your catch rate had doubled if not tripled. The racks aren't really old, but we could still replace them,” Trálír said, looking up at Anwyn. There was astonishment on her face, because even though their standard of living had improved and they now owned gold coins, it had never occurred to her to want to change anything in the house. She had been used to living in poverty from an early age, so the thought of a more comfortable house had not found a place in her world.
“We don't need to use the goods in the castle, you and your father have enough coins to buy wood in the village. You could hire a carpenter or joiner yourself if you are not satisfied with my work,” Trálír added, grinning at his last words, as this was just an attempt to hear that Anwyn had been satisfied with his work so far.
He couldn't help but admit to himself that he loved it when Anwyn complimented him. His heart beat a touch faster as he listened to Anwyn's warm laughter.
“Thanks to you, we have expanded the farm, built the new stables and even a second house. I certainly won't consider anyone else after all the excellent work you, Conall and Ulthred have done.”
“I'm only too happy to hear that,” Trálír replied with an amused twinkle in his eye. His shapely lips curled into a bright grin.
“So you're pleased with my performance then, my lady?”
Anwyn couldn't help giggling.
“No complaint will pass my lips,” she replied with a laugh. Trálír rose slowly, stepped towards Anwyn, grabbed her hand and slowly pulled her towards him.
“And even if you did, I would have an excellent idea to stop you from saying a single word.”
His voice was warm, dark and extremely promising. Anwyn unconsciously drew her lower lip between her teeth, heart beating fast, and bit it as she heard his words. And the sensual desire that could be heard in his voice.
“And what idea do you have in mind?” she asked in a whisper, looking at him with wide eyes.
Trálír smiled promisingly.
“Let me show you,” he answered and pressed his mouth passionately onto Anwyn's. She opened her lips and let him in, closing her eyes in pleasure as his tongue began to explore her. Only when she heard the water in the kettle begin to hiss did she place her hand on the center of his chest and gently push him away, fully aware that his heart could be felt beating rapidly beneath her fingertips.
Trálír sat down on the stool with a smile, placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his interlocked hands. He watched as Anwyn took the kettle off the hook and poured the tea into two mugs before putting it back. She sat down opposite Trálír, put the tea cups down and looked at him lovingly.
“Aren't you going to tell me why you came to see us so late in the evening?”
Sighing, Trálír reached for one of the two mugs of tea and stared at his hands, which were drumming restlessly against the cup.
“Would it be enough for you if I told you that I missed you?” he murmured, looking at her unhappily.
“Of course. I won't force you to talk about something you don't want to, Trálír,” she replied sympathetically. “But if something is bothering you, if there is something that is tormenting your heart, then you can share it with me if you want. You don't have to carry the burden of your thoughts with you alone.”
Trálír clenched his lips and nodded a little stiffly.
“I'm here for you,” she said softly and placed her hands on his, clasping the cup.
Trálír took a deep breath, cleared his throat and finally began to speak in a low voice: “I'm not telling an untruth when I say I miss you, Anwyn. But the reason I snuck out of the castle was another problem with the way my father runs his kingdom.”
Anwyn looked at Trálír in astonishment.
“You snuck out of the castle?”
Shrugging his shoulders, the high elf nodded.
“How did you manage that?” Anwyn asked with wide eyes.
“There are one or two narrow entrances or exits, in the masonry that I used as a boy to escape the monks' extremely tedious and monotonous lessons,” he replied slowly.
“You are no longer a child who can squeeze through narrow and small gaps in the wall without difficulty, Trálír,” Anwyn noted, running her gaze over his hands. She saw some slight abrasions on his knuckles and wrists and scolded herself for not noticing them sooner. Trálír's eyes followed her gaze and when he realized how she registered the wounds, he knew that Anwyn would get up in the next moment to tend to them. He shook his head and grabbed her wrist to make her stay seated.
“There's no need for you to take care of it. It's nothing serious, just abrasions.”
“Trálír, do you trust me?”
The high elf looked at Anwyn in surprise.
“Of course.”
“And you also trust my knowledge and skills?”
“I do not question this, my love,” he replied and Anwyn nodded in confirmation.
“Good, then let me take care of you and clean this, because even a single particle of dirt is enough to cause an infection.”
Trálír sighed softly and scolded himself for walking so naively into Anwyn's obvious trap. When it came to cleaning or treating wounds, she had developed an impressive self-confidence over the last few months. And before he got into a discussion with her about the necessity of cleaning wounds, he would rather give in. It certainly wouldn't do him any harm.
Trálír watched as Anwyn got up from the small, crooked stool, went to the shelf that hung above her camp and picked up a small flask, which she uncorked as she walked. Another reach into a drawer and she pulled out a clean cloth which she soaked in alcohol, then she settled down again and looked at him expectantly. Trálír held out his hands to her and breathed in deeply as she took them in hers. He loved the feeling of Anwyn reaching for him, her thumb gently stroking his skin or her fingers gently intertwining with his. Under half-open eyelids, Trálír watched as she concentrated on cleaning the abrasions.
Here is my next chapter to read or to explore ;)
Please enjoy it!!
Trálír greeted those present with a smile on his lips as he got down on his knees and briefly stroked Yarrow, who ran up to him wagging his tail and allowing his ears to be scratched enthusiastically. The high elf straightened up, stepped to Anwyn and pressed a tender kiss on her head while she reached for his hands and looked at him in surprise.
“What brings you here at this hour?” she asked Trálír, who sat down on a stool handed to him by Conall.
“My longing for you?” he replied and while Eleri burst into a soft giggle and Doran cleared his throat a little, Anwyn felt a hot blush shoot into her face and color her cheeks.
“Trálír...” she whispered and he grinned. “Not now, my love. Please let me enjoy the moment sitting at this table with all of you.”
Anwyn nodded in understanding, but an unpleasant feeling spread through her stomach. Trálír tried to spend some time with her every day, but it was unusual for him to show up late in the evening. She tried to recognize something in his face, a sign of the reason that had brought him to her, but apart from the fact that he looked a little tired, Anwyn couldn't tell what was going on inside him.
Still, she knew there had to be a reason for his coming and hoped he would confide in her later.
Little Elyan bounced excitedly on his mother’s lap and stretched his little arms in Trálír's direction, who smiled and asked Eleri to hand him the child while she filled his bowl with soup.
Anwyn, who still had Brin on her lap, bit her lips and tried to ignore her rapidly beating heart.
You'd almost think we were family, she thought melancholically. The way we're sitting at this table, each with a child in our laps.
She sighed heavily and Trálír turned to her, his gaze questioning.
“Eat,” she told him with a smile and Trálír was only too happy to comply.
He listened with interest to Doran's stories about the catch he and Conall had made and about Brin's little adventure with the chickens, which made Trálír burst out laughing. During the meal and the animated conversations, Trálír often put his hand on Anwyn's thigh or reached for her hand. When they had all finished their meal, he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her wild curls, which she now wore loose when she wasn't busy.
Each of them rose from the table, Eleri cleared away the used dishes and Anwyn grabbed Trálír's hand and pulled him slightly to one side.
“Eleri and I still have to process the catch and we'll be busy for the next few hours, probably well into the night,” she told him quietly. “But if you need time to yourself, you can retire to my campsite. Yarrow will be more than happy to keep you company.”
“Why don't you take the evening off and spend it together?” Anwyn heard Eleri ask and she turned in her direction in astonishment. She was carrying her youngest in her arms again, who was snuggling sleepily against her upper body.
“But... but... it's so much work...” Anwyn began, but was immediately interrupted by her friend, who said with a gentle smile on her lips: ”Don't worry about today's catch, I'll take care of it. And Conall has just promised to help me.” She looked to her spouse who acknowledged her words with a nod.
“I'll take care of the children then,” Doran added with a smile. “I'll spend the night here if it's all right with Eleri and Conall.” He looked at the two half-elves.
Anwyn stared baffled from one to the other. “Are you really serious?” she asked cautiously to make sure she hadn't imagined all this. As she looked at the affirmative faces of those present, Anwyn smiled shyly and whispered a thank you in a moved voice.
She turned to Trálír who looked at her with a tender smile and grabbed her hand as they walked towards the door together, Yarrow at their heels.
As Anwyn slowly opened the door to her house and entered, she turned to Trálír and looked at him apologetically.
“It still feels awkward for me to invite you to our cottage, even though we've known each other for so long now and have become ... well, closer. I know you don't mind, but it's old and...” She broke off, bit her lower lip in embarrassment and shook her head in shame.
“And?” Trálír asked in a low voice as he stood in the open doorway, his blue-green eyes full of compassion.
“Poor,” Anwyn added sheepishly. “Yes, the farm has expanded, we have more food, enough animals, enough garden beds to grow our own fruit and vegetables. And I can even grow herbs and the like that I can use for healing. Our standard of living is far better than it was a few years ago and yet it still feels the same. Our life was just an existence, there was only the hard work to keep going somehow. We no longer live in the poverty that I knew from my early childhood and despite everything, all of this still seems...” She pointed into the room, shaking her head as she looked over the old furniture.
“... poor and used up,” she added with a sigh. She felt Trálír step close behind her, place his hands gently on her waist and press his face against the thick tangle of her curls, which smelled faintly of lavender.
“It doesn't matter to me, Anwyn,” he replied close to her ear. “When I walk into this house, I don't care how old the table or how crooked the stool is. This home offers so much more than that. You live in it and that alone counts for me, Anwyn. You could live in a tent or a cave and I wouldn't care. Wherever the future takes us, I will be by your side. Whether it's a castle or a small, crooked house. I would even spend my life in a small cave with you. The main thing is that I'm close to you. Nothing else matters to me.”
Anwyn reached for Trálír's hands and clasped them with her fingers, her eyes shimmering moist as she listened to his words. She cleared her throat and took a deep breath before addressing the next words to him.
“Whenever you step into this house, sit down on the rickety stool or on the camp, which couldn't be more uncomfortable, I think of you spending your life in a castle, in the splendor of numerous chandeliers, paintings, surrounded by wealth, the finest fabrics and food.”
“And even if you don't believe me, Anwyn, this crooked hut with all its poor and worn furniture, as you call it, is a place where I feel much more comfortable than in my own home.”
Anwyn felt his fingers intertwine with hers and squeeze them tenderly.
“A home that has never really been a home for me and never will be,” Trálír added confidently. “This here, your closeness, this is the place where I feel comfortable, where I belong. By your side, Anwyn.”
With a deep breath, Anwyn drew in a slow breath and turned her face to the side so that the high elf could place a kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes trustingly and leaned against his chest, safe in his embrace. The two of them stood like that in the open doorway for a while until a cool breeze drove them inside the house. Meanwhile, Yarrow had laid down in front of Anwyns campside and was dozing peacefully.
Anwyn walked to the table and lit an oil lamp, which gave off a soft light and illuminated the room, while Trálír got down on his knees and stroked Yarrow. Smiling, Anwyn looked down at the two of them before walking to the fireplace, lighting it and hanging a kettle of mint tea on the hook.
“Perhaps I could use the summer to build new furniture, Anwyn? New storage for you and your father, a new table and two or three stools? Possibly I could also make two or three new drying racks now that Conall and your father are out at sea catching fish and the like, as your catch rate had doubled if not tripled. The racks aren't really old, but we could still replace them,” Trálír said, looking up at Anwyn. There was astonishment on her face, because even though their standard of living had improved and they now owned gold coins, it had never occurred to her to want to change anything in the house. She had been used to living in poverty from an early age, so the thought of a more comfortable house had not found a place in her world.
“We don't need to use the goods in the castle, you and your father have enough coins to buy wood in the village. You could hire a carpenter or joiner yourself if you are not satisfied with my work,” Trálír added, grinning at his last words, as this was just an attempt to hear that Anwyn had been satisfied with his work so far.
He couldn't help but admit to himself that he loved it when Anwyn complimented him. His heart beat a touch faster as he listened to Anwyn's warm laughter.
“Thanks to you, we have expanded the farm, built the new stables and even a second house. I certainly won't consider anyone else after all the excellent work you, Conall and Ulthred have done.”
“I'm only too happy to hear that,” Trálír replied with an amused twinkle in his eye. His shapely lips curled into a bright grin.
“So you're pleased with my performance then, my lady?”
Anwyn couldn't help giggling.
“No complaint will pass my lips,” she replied with a laugh. Trálír rose slowly, stepped towards Anwyn, grabbed her hand and slowly pulled her towards him.
“And even if you did, I would have an excellent idea to stop you from saying a single word.”
His voice was warm, dark and extremely promising. Anwyn unconsciously drew her lower lip between her teeth, heart beating fast, and bit it as she heard his words. And the sensual desire that could be heard in his voice.
“And what idea do you have in mind?” she asked in a whisper, looking at him with wide eyes.
Trálír smiled promisingly.
“Let me show you,” he answered and pressed his mouth passionately onto Anwyn's. She opened her lips and let him in, closing her eyes in pleasure as his tongue began to explore her. Only when she heard the water in the kettle begin to hiss did she place her hand on the center of his chest and gently push him away, fully aware that his heart could be felt beating rapidly beneath her fingertips.
Trálír sat down on the stool with a smile, placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his interlocked hands. He watched as Anwyn took the kettle off the hook and poured the tea into two mugs before putting it back. She sat down opposite Trálír, put the tea cups down and looked at him lovingly.
“Aren't you going to tell me why you came to see us so late in the evening?”
Sighing, Trálír reached for one of the two mugs of tea and stared at his hands, which were drumming restlessly against the cup.
“Would it be enough for you if I told you that I missed you?” he murmured, looking at her unhappily.
“Of course. I won't force you to talk about something you don't want to, Trálír,” she replied sympathetically. “But if something is bothering you, if there is something that is tormenting your heart, then you can share it with me if you want. You don't have to carry the burden of your thoughts with you alone.”
Trálír clenched his lips and nodded a little stiffly.
“I'm here for you,” she said softly and placed her hands on his, clasping the cup.
Trálír took a deep breath, cleared his throat and finally began to speak in a low voice: “I'm not telling an untruth when I say I miss you, Anwyn. But the reason I snuck out of the castle was another problem with the way my father runs his kingdom.”
Anwyn looked at Trálír in astonishment.
“You snuck out of the castle?”
Shrugging his shoulders, the high elf nodded.
“How did you manage that?” Anwyn asked with wide eyes.
“There are one or two narrow entrances or exits, in the masonry that I used as a boy to escape the monks' extremely tedious and monotonous lessons,” he replied slowly.
“You are no longer a child who can squeeze through narrow and small gaps in the wall without difficulty, Trálír,” Anwyn noted, running her gaze over his hands. She saw some slight abrasions on his knuckles and wrists and scolded herself for not noticing them sooner. Trálír's eyes followed her gaze and when he realized how she registered the wounds, he knew that Anwyn would get up in the next moment to tend to them. He shook his head and grabbed her wrist to make her stay seated.
“There's no need for you to take care of it. It's nothing serious, just abrasions.”
“Trálír, do you trust me?”
The high elf looked at Anwyn in surprise.
“Of course.”
“And you also trust my knowledge and skills?”
“I do not question this, my love,” he replied and Anwyn nodded in confirmation.
“Good, then let me take care of you and clean this, because even a single particle of dirt is enough to cause an infection.”
Trálír sighed softly and scolded himself for walking so naively into Anwyn's obvious trap. When it came to cleaning or treating wounds, she had developed an impressive self-confidence over the last few months. And before he got into a discussion with her about the necessity of cleaning wounds, he would rather give in. It certainly wouldn't do him any harm.
Trálír watched as Anwyn got up from the small, crooked stool, went to the shelf that hung above her camp and picked up a small flask, which she uncorked as she walked. Another reach into a drawer and she pulled out a clean cloth which she soaked in alcohol, then she settled down again and looked at him expectantly. Trálír held out his hands to her and breathed in deeply as she took them in hers. He loved the feeling of Anwyn reaching for him, her thumb gently stroking his skin or her fingers gently intertwining with his. Under half-open eyelids, Trálír watched as she concentrated on cleaning the abrasions.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-29 02:15 pm (UTC)By the way, you've got a (? Passt auch) left from editing.
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-29 02:39 pm (UTC)By the way, thanks for telling me! And I've fixed it. ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-29 06:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-30 08:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-30 06:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2024-12-30 08:24 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-04 05:39 pm (UTC)Dein nächstes Buch gefällt mir bis jetzt sehr gut, ich finde es so schön, wie alle harmonisch zusammen leben ♥
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-05 07:54 am (UTC)Ich freue mich wirklich sehr über deine Kommentare, wirklich. Und ich muss gestehen, dass ich diese Momente der Harmonie und des Friedens gerne schreibe. Auch das ist neu für mich, da meine Geschichten in der Vergangenheit immer sehr düster und dunkel waren.
Zu sehen dass dir und auch anderen diese harmonischen, friedlichen Momente so sehr gefallen ist ein riesen Kompliment an mich. Vielen lieben Dank!! ♥️♥️♥️
(no subject)
Date: 2025-01-08 06:20 pm (UTC)♥ ♥ ♥