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haebinPlease enjoy my newest chapter and thank you so, so much for reading. It means a lot to me.
And of course, comments, compliments or even critic is appreciated. ;)
Content Warning:
This chapter contains detailed descriptions of processing a hunted prey for consumption.
Doran was not worried that he would not be able to catch the usual amount of fish when Conall and Trálír were working on the furniture, as the half-elf who lived on his farm and he were still at sea. Only they had both decided to return home about two hours earlier, so that Conall still had enough time to work with his former master on making the furniture. In the morning, Trálír could be found at his daily combat training in the castle, after which he was usually busy listening to the monks' long speeches about the centuries-old history of his family and the elves. Trálír didn't know why this was still important, as he could recite every single word he had ever heard from them and yet he sat listening attentively in the large library, as he didn't want to discuss with his father whether this was necessary or not.
Another and above all an unnecessary argument with him was something the high elf wanted to avoid at all costs. As midsummer was approaching, the monks had shortened their daily lessons, which Trálír used to go hunting to replenish the food stores for the fall and winter. When the head monk had spoken his last words, the high elf thanked him for the knowledge he had shared with him, left the room and went straight to the stables to saddle Arod. Equipped with sword, bow and arrow, Trálír left the castle and rode down the long descent to the bay. But contrary to what the castle inhabitants thought, he did not ride into the forest but to Anwyn. There he spent about three to four hours with her and the others working on the furniture before he finally made his way into the forest where he went hunting. It was difficult for humans to find prey at dusk, but not for him as a high elf with a keen ability to see in the dark. And Trálír was good at what he did, better than many an elf from the Blackwater Castle who earned their living as a hunter.
Although Trálír hunted in the forest many times, he never forgot to thank the gods and creatures of the forest for their gift to him. Each time before Trálír went into the forest to hunt, he honored the spirits with a silent prayer and asked for their permission to kill the animals, a part of creation, of life in the forest.
When he approached the hunted game, or if his success was crowned with a hare, fox, marten or partridge, he knelt down, placed his hand on the fur, felt the still warm blood slowly cooling under his fingers and thanked them with deep humility for their sacrifice.
Over the last few days, Trálír and Conall had cut the wood they would need to make the new furniture. Two new storage units, four stools, several shelves and a narrow, tall cupboard were planned for Anwyn and Doran. Two new tables were also planned, the larger of which was to be used for fish gutting outside the house. When measuring the wood, Trálír and Conall were surprised to find that in the end there would still be enough wood left over to build three more drying racks and another rack for the laundry. And the rest of the wood would even be enough for another water trough.
The evening approached inexorably and Trálír looked up at the sky, which was gradually darkening. He sighed as his stay in the courtyard and near Anwyn was slowly coming to an end. She and Eleri stood together at the old, rickety table next to the entrance of the house and worked on the catch of the day, while Brin and Elyan sat on the ground next to them and played with the wooden figures Doran had carved.
“Conall, it's time,” Trálír turned to his friend, who put his tools aside with a nod. Anwyn, hearing her lover's words, put her fish knife aside, wiped her hands on her apron and approached Trálír.
“Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?” she asked hopefully, looking up at Trálír, whose smile seemed unhappy.
“I wish I could stay,” he replied quietly, his voice heavy. “But I still have to go hunting so no one suspects anything.”
Anwyn nodded in understanding, but there was a hint of sorrow in her fawn eyes.
“Although my father can probably imagine me spending time outside the castle with you.”
Her fingers intertwined with Trálír's and she asked in a worried voice, “Does that worry you?”
The high elf shrugged his shoulders. “So far, he doesn't really seem to care and as long as it stays that way, I'll be careful not to remind him.”
Leaning forward on tiptoe, Anwyn kissed Trálír tenderly and he closed his eyes, reveling in the sensual feeling of her warm lips on his. A slight sigh escaped him unintentionally as Anwyn broke away from him.
“Same time tomorrow?” she asked hopefully, giving him a tender smile.
“Why would I skip the best part of the whole day?” he whispered, kissed her once more and then raised his hand in greeting to say goodbye to everyone else. Anwyn, however, followed him into the stables and together they led the black stallion into the courtyard. As she handed him his weapons, Trálír leaned down to her once more, but this time he tenderly cupped her chin with his fingers while his lips pressed a long and sensual kiss to hers. When they broke away from each other, he whispered against her mouth: “I'm counting the days until we can give ourselves to each other.”
“Trálír!”
He laughed amusedly when he mounted his horse and rode out of the courtyard. What remained was a young woman whose heart was beating so fast with excitement that she felt it would jump out of her chest and at the same time prevent her from catching her breath.
“You're late,” Trálír heard the old stable master say as he opened the gate to the stables and led Arod inside.
“Oh no, did I miss dinner?” he replied with a grin and exchanged an amused glance with the old half-elf.
“You will certainly have missed a lot of old stories and self-praise,” replied Fairre, who knew of his aversion to such behavior as complacency or arrogance. And also what Trálír thought of his own father as ruler of these lands.
“Too bad I missed it,” Trálír replied with a mocking voice and theatrically placed his hand on his chest. “This will surely deprive me of my sleep.”
Fairre couldn't help an amused cackle as he took the reins of Arod from his master's hands, gently led him into his stall and began to slowly remove his saddle and bridle, while Trálír took the kill of two young stags, several rabbits and partridges from the stallion's back and laid them on the ground at the same time.
“I see your hunt was successful?”
Trálír nodded with satisfaction at the old stable master's words.
“Despite the last harsh winter, the forests are full of game,” he said and patted Arod gently on the neck before offering him an apple that the elf had quickly taken from a fruit basket. “I still try to avoid killing hinds or bucks that have not yet reached adulthood.”
“Life and death are part of this land, but we should not try to destroy the balance of this fragile fabric,” Fairre said quietly, as if speaking to himself. “You would do well to keep to the balance of the forest.”
“So far, Malar and Mielikki have always been kind to me,” Trálír replied and took the saddle from Fairre, which he placed on a stand, so that he did not realize that admiration and a hint of pride could be seen in the man's old eyes when the ruler's son mentioned the god of the hunt and the goddess of the forest.
The two gods could not have been more opposite. Mielikki, a servant of Silvanus, the high god of nature, openly opposed Malar when an animal was wounded and in agony. She often healed deep wounds to prevent the animal from dying too soon. Nevertheless, she accepted hunting as long as the balance of nature was maintained.
“Let me see if I can find some support to help you gut the prey,” said Fairre, handing Trálír the bridle and then leaving the stables. The high elf patted his stallion's neck once more and then put the bridle aside. Before reaching for the prey, Trálír went to the fruit basket once more, grabbed two more apples and handed them to Arod, who devoured them with a joyful neigh. Trálír laughed softly, heaved a buck on his shoulder and stepped out into the courtyard. Fairre approached from the right with two young half-elves, who bowed respectfully to their master. Trálír told the men that there was still prey in the stables and then walked with the game on his shoulder towards the castle kitchen, for next to the back door was the castle butcher's shop with its master Veland. Trálír knocked on the door, greeted the half-elf in a friendly manner when he opened it and explained that he had killed prey again, as he had done in the last few days.
The tall half-elf then rubbed his hands with a laugh and called out in a delighted voice: “Then let's get started.”
As Trálír had already opened the body cavity of the dead deer after the hunt and removed the entrails, he could now set about hanging the dead animal by its feet on a hook so that its head was pointing towards the ground. The first step was to remove the testicles and penis, then the body was opened up from the pelvis to the larynx with a sharp knife and the ribs and sternum were cut through. This was followed by the removal of all internal organs and finally the body slowly bled out, collecting at Trálír's feet while the two half-elves, together with Fairre, took the rest of the prey to the slaughterhouse. The last step was to clean the carcass with drinking water, but Trálír left the final butchering and processing to the butcher and the two half-elves.
Veland suggested that he leave the further gutting and preparation of the prey to him and the servants, which Trálír gratefully accepted.
Next to the rack on which the dead animal was tied were two buckets of water, which he took as an opportunity to wash the blood from his hands.
Trálír wished the men a peaceful night and stepped through the kitchen, where only two servants remained. By the light of a few candles, they waited for the inhabitants of the hall to finish their evening meal so that they could finally clear the dishes and leftovers from the Great Hall. It was not allowed, but sometimes the servants took an uneaten roast or the prepared poultry home with them instead of throwing it on the dung heap.
The half-elves and the few humans who lived in the castle mostly ate porridge made from grain or millet, soups and stews made from beans and lentils. Seeing the uneaten food, which mostly consisted of hunted game, fish, white bread and spicy sauces, had led some of them to quickly wrap it in the fabric of an apron, rush home through the courtyard after duty with a downcast face and secretly bring the stolen food to the family's table.
If Trálír, the elder, had known of this offense, his anger would have been terrible. But the cook and the butcher turned a blind eye and pretended not to have seen anything when the hunger was so great that many a servant resorted to such means.
Trálír had always tried to persuade his father to share the game with his servants. Simple soldiers were given some meat every other day, those who belonged to his inner circle dined with the ruler at the same table.
Half-elves and humans can be thankful that they have a roof over their heads here and that we feed them, Trálír remembered his father's words when he saw the two servants. He nodded politely to them, who returned this with a respectful bow. The look in both their eyes was nevertheless confused.
It's probably not every day that the ruler's son walks through the kitchen, Trálír thought with amusement, overlooking the fact that the young woman standing in the corner of the room was staring at him anxiously. For she knew that this ruler's son rarely passed through the kitchen. But the other one, the younger one with the yellow eyes, had chosen this room as his hunting ground when it came to fulfilling his sexual desires with many a kitchen maid, whether she wanted to or not.
And of course, comments, compliments or even critic is appreciated. ;)
Content Warning:
This chapter contains detailed descriptions of processing a hunted prey for consumption.
Doran was not worried that he would not be able to catch the usual amount of fish when Conall and Trálír were working on the furniture, as the half-elf who lived on his farm and he were still at sea. Only they had both decided to return home about two hours earlier, so that Conall still had enough time to work with his former master on making the furniture. In the morning, Trálír could be found at his daily combat training in the castle, after which he was usually busy listening to the monks' long speeches about the centuries-old history of his family and the elves. Trálír didn't know why this was still important, as he could recite every single word he had ever heard from them and yet he sat listening attentively in the large library, as he didn't want to discuss with his father whether this was necessary or not.
Another and above all an unnecessary argument with him was something the high elf wanted to avoid at all costs. As midsummer was approaching, the monks had shortened their daily lessons, which Trálír used to go hunting to replenish the food stores for the fall and winter. When the head monk had spoken his last words, the high elf thanked him for the knowledge he had shared with him, left the room and went straight to the stables to saddle Arod. Equipped with sword, bow and arrow, Trálír left the castle and rode down the long descent to the bay. But contrary to what the castle inhabitants thought, he did not ride into the forest but to Anwyn. There he spent about three to four hours with her and the others working on the furniture before he finally made his way into the forest where he went hunting. It was difficult for humans to find prey at dusk, but not for him as a high elf with a keen ability to see in the dark. And Trálír was good at what he did, better than many an elf from the Blackwater Castle who earned their living as a hunter.
Although Trálír hunted in the forest many times, he never forgot to thank the gods and creatures of the forest for their gift to him. Each time before Trálír went into the forest to hunt, he honored the spirits with a silent prayer and asked for their permission to kill the animals, a part of creation, of life in the forest.
When he approached the hunted game, or if his success was crowned with a hare, fox, marten or partridge, he knelt down, placed his hand on the fur, felt the still warm blood slowly cooling under his fingers and thanked them with deep humility for their sacrifice.
Over the last few days, Trálír and Conall had cut the wood they would need to make the new furniture. Two new storage units, four stools, several shelves and a narrow, tall cupboard were planned for Anwyn and Doran. Two new tables were also planned, the larger of which was to be used for fish gutting outside the house. When measuring the wood, Trálír and Conall were surprised to find that in the end there would still be enough wood left over to build three more drying racks and another rack for the laundry. And the rest of the wood would even be enough for another water trough.
The evening approached inexorably and Trálír looked up at the sky, which was gradually darkening. He sighed as his stay in the courtyard and near Anwyn was slowly coming to an end. She and Eleri stood together at the old, rickety table next to the entrance of the house and worked on the catch of the day, while Brin and Elyan sat on the ground next to them and played with the wooden figures Doran had carved.
“Conall, it's time,” Trálír turned to his friend, who put his tools aside with a nod. Anwyn, hearing her lover's words, put her fish knife aside, wiped her hands on her apron and approached Trálír.
“Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner?” she asked hopefully, looking up at Trálír, whose smile seemed unhappy.
“I wish I could stay,” he replied quietly, his voice heavy. “But I still have to go hunting so no one suspects anything.”
Anwyn nodded in understanding, but there was a hint of sorrow in her fawn eyes.
“Although my father can probably imagine me spending time outside the castle with you.”
Her fingers intertwined with Trálír's and she asked in a worried voice, “Does that worry you?”
The high elf shrugged his shoulders. “So far, he doesn't really seem to care and as long as it stays that way, I'll be careful not to remind him.”
Leaning forward on tiptoe, Anwyn kissed Trálír tenderly and he closed his eyes, reveling in the sensual feeling of her warm lips on his. A slight sigh escaped him unintentionally as Anwyn broke away from him.
“Same time tomorrow?” she asked hopefully, giving him a tender smile.
“Why would I skip the best part of the whole day?” he whispered, kissed her once more and then raised his hand in greeting to say goodbye to everyone else. Anwyn, however, followed him into the stables and together they led the black stallion into the courtyard. As she handed him his weapons, Trálír leaned down to her once more, but this time he tenderly cupped her chin with his fingers while his lips pressed a long and sensual kiss to hers. When they broke away from each other, he whispered against her mouth: “I'm counting the days until we can give ourselves to each other.”
“Trálír!”
He laughed amusedly when he mounted his horse and rode out of the courtyard. What remained was a young woman whose heart was beating so fast with excitement that she felt it would jump out of her chest and at the same time prevent her from catching her breath.
“You're late,” Trálír heard the old stable master say as he opened the gate to the stables and led Arod inside.
“Oh no, did I miss dinner?” he replied with a grin and exchanged an amused glance with the old half-elf.
“You will certainly have missed a lot of old stories and self-praise,” replied Fairre, who knew of his aversion to such behavior as complacency or arrogance. And also what Trálír thought of his own father as ruler of these lands.
“Too bad I missed it,” Trálír replied with a mocking voice and theatrically placed his hand on his chest. “This will surely deprive me of my sleep.”
Fairre couldn't help an amused cackle as he took the reins of Arod from his master's hands, gently led him into his stall and began to slowly remove his saddle and bridle, while Trálír took the kill of two young stags, several rabbits and partridges from the stallion's back and laid them on the ground at the same time.
“I see your hunt was successful?”
Trálír nodded with satisfaction at the old stable master's words.
“Despite the last harsh winter, the forests are full of game,” he said and patted Arod gently on the neck before offering him an apple that the elf had quickly taken from a fruit basket. “I still try to avoid killing hinds or bucks that have not yet reached adulthood.”
“Life and death are part of this land, but we should not try to destroy the balance of this fragile fabric,” Fairre said quietly, as if speaking to himself. “You would do well to keep to the balance of the forest.”
“So far, Malar and Mielikki have always been kind to me,” Trálír replied and took the saddle from Fairre, which he placed on a stand, so that he did not realize that admiration and a hint of pride could be seen in the man's old eyes when the ruler's son mentioned the god of the hunt and the goddess of the forest.
The two gods could not have been more opposite. Mielikki, a servant of Silvanus, the high god of nature, openly opposed Malar when an animal was wounded and in agony. She often healed deep wounds to prevent the animal from dying too soon. Nevertheless, she accepted hunting as long as the balance of nature was maintained.
“Let me see if I can find some support to help you gut the prey,” said Fairre, handing Trálír the bridle and then leaving the stables. The high elf patted his stallion's neck once more and then put the bridle aside. Before reaching for the prey, Trálír went to the fruit basket once more, grabbed two more apples and handed them to Arod, who devoured them with a joyful neigh. Trálír laughed softly, heaved a buck on his shoulder and stepped out into the courtyard. Fairre approached from the right with two young half-elves, who bowed respectfully to their master. Trálír told the men that there was still prey in the stables and then walked with the game on his shoulder towards the castle kitchen, for next to the back door was the castle butcher's shop with its master Veland. Trálír knocked on the door, greeted the half-elf in a friendly manner when he opened it and explained that he had killed prey again, as he had done in the last few days.
The tall half-elf then rubbed his hands with a laugh and called out in a delighted voice: “Then let's get started.”
As Trálír had already opened the body cavity of the dead deer after the hunt and removed the entrails, he could now set about hanging the dead animal by its feet on a hook so that its head was pointing towards the ground. The first step was to remove the testicles and penis, then the body was opened up from the pelvis to the larynx with a sharp knife and the ribs and sternum were cut through. This was followed by the removal of all internal organs and finally the body slowly bled out, collecting at Trálír's feet while the two half-elves, together with Fairre, took the rest of the prey to the slaughterhouse. The last step was to clean the carcass with drinking water, but Trálír left the final butchering and processing to the butcher and the two half-elves.
Veland suggested that he leave the further gutting and preparation of the prey to him and the servants, which Trálír gratefully accepted.
Next to the rack on which the dead animal was tied were two buckets of water, which he took as an opportunity to wash the blood from his hands.
Trálír wished the men a peaceful night and stepped through the kitchen, where only two servants remained. By the light of a few candles, they waited for the inhabitants of the hall to finish their evening meal so that they could finally clear the dishes and leftovers from the Great Hall. It was not allowed, but sometimes the servants took an uneaten roast or the prepared poultry home with them instead of throwing it on the dung heap.
The half-elves and the few humans who lived in the castle mostly ate porridge made from grain or millet, soups and stews made from beans and lentils. Seeing the uneaten food, which mostly consisted of hunted game, fish, white bread and spicy sauces, had led some of them to quickly wrap it in the fabric of an apron, rush home through the courtyard after duty with a downcast face and secretly bring the stolen food to the family's table.
If Trálír, the elder, had known of this offense, his anger would have been terrible. But the cook and the butcher turned a blind eye and pretended not to have seen anything when the hunger was so great that many a servant resorted to such means.
Trálír had always tried to persuade his father to share the game with his servants. Simple soldiers were given some meat every other day, those who belonged to his inner circle dined with the ruler at the same table.
Half-elves and humans can be thankful that they have a roof over their heads here and that we feed them, Trálír remembered his father's words when he saw the two servants. He nodded politely to them, who returned this with a respectful bow. The look in both their eyes was nevertheless confused.
It's probably not every day that the ruler's son walks through the kitchen, Trálír thought with amusement, overlooking the fact that the young woman standing in the corner of the room was staring at him anxiously. For she knew that this ruler's son rarely passed through the kitchen. But the other one, the younger one with the yellow eyes, had chosen this room as his hunting ground when it came to fulfilling his sexual desires with many a kitchen maid, whether she wanted to or not.
(no subject)
Date: 2025-04-06 01:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-05-01 11:03 am (UTC)And thank you so much for reading as well! :)
(no subject)
Date: 2025-04-07 06:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-05-01 11:05 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-04-08 05:01 pm (UTC)Sehr weise Worte.
she accepted hunting as long as the balance of nature was maintained.
Das ist auch meine Einstellung dazu - viele Veganer*innen sind ja grundsätzlich auch gegen die Jagd, aber ich persönlich habe nichts dagegen, wenn z.B. indigene Völker sich durchs Jagen ernähren.
Und auch solche Rituale, sich bei dem Tier für sein Opfer zu bedanken, finde ich super schön, das machen ja auch viele Ureinwohner z.B. in den USA, oder haben sie jedenfalls früher, so weit ich weiß.
(no subject)
Date: 2025-04-08 10:26 pm (UTC)Ich habe ein Problem mit der Jagd wenn das rein zum Spaß vollzogen wird. Das geht für mich einfach nicht. Wenn es hier in Deutschland Jäger gibt, kann ich das auch nachvollziehen, denn auch so wird für das gesunde Gleichgewicht im Wald gesorgt. Und wenn das Wild (oder das Tier) nicht krank ist, wird es auch meistens weiterverarbeitet. Das ist okay für mich.
Und da ich auch viele, viele Bücher über viele indigene Völker und Stämme gelesen habe wo das auch Thema war, habe ich das auch für meine Geschichte so umgesetzt. Ich finde grundsätzlich die Natur, die Umwelt, alle Tiere usw. sehr wichtig für mich und auch mein Wohlbefinden und ich verabscheue es wie die Menschen sich verhalten. So möchte ich wenigstens in der Story dass Tralir und die Charaktere die gut sind, dieses zerbrechliche Gefüge respektieren und achten. 🧡
(no subject)
Date: 2025-04-09 03:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-05-01 11:43 am (UTC)🧡
(no subject)
Date: 2025-04-14 05:34 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2025-04-14 11:02 am (UTC)And honestly, thank you so much for still reading. It means a lot to me, really.
♥️♥️♥️