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haebinIt's Sunday, it is time for a new chapter! I hope you'll enjoy it!
Thank you so, so much for reading, it means the world to me.
♥
“Forgive me, I don't want you to worry about me.” Trálír bit his lips and turned his face away, but Anwyn could see tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, which he sheepishly wiped away with the back of his hand.
His long hair, which he wore loose, fell into his face and Anwyn gently stroked the strands of hair behind his ears with her left hand. The elf closed his eyes at this tender gesture and a thick tear welled up under his closed eyelids. Anwyn caught the tear with her thumb, her heart heavy at Trálír's sorrow.
She knelt down and placed her left hand on his again, feeling how stiff and tense it felt. The tension seemed to run from his hands to his arms and through his entire body, because his breathing sounded choppy and strained. What is bothering him so much? Anwyn thought with an anxious heart and asked him in a gentle voice: “Love, won’t you tell me what’s on your mind? How long have you been sitting here? And why didn't you knock? Despite the warmth of the day, the nights can be unpleasantly cold due to the winds coming from the sea. You know that you are always welcome in our home.”
Trálír opened his eyes, but avoided looking directly at Anwyn. Instead, he stared at her hands, which gently clasped his.
“Since midnight,” he murmured after a while, which seemed like an eternity to Anwyn. She knew that Trálír sometimes found it difficult to talk about his feelings, even though he had often confided in her in the past. Nevertheless, it always took him a few moments before he seemed to find the right words. This time she suspected that what was bothering him so much was deep inside him, because the words to explain himself didn't seem to come out of his mouth.
“Midnight?” Anwyn replied in shock and stared at Trálír, frowning. For the moment, she didn't know what to say or how to react to his answer. What was torturing him so much that he couldn't bring himself to come to her?
She looked at him sadly, stroking his hand gently with her thumb, but Trálír remained silent, still avoiding her gaze. Anwyn's heart grew even heavier as the sadness and despair in his eyes both darkened and clouded his gaze.
“I can not keep my promise, Anwyn,” he said after a while into the silence between them and raised his eyes, finally looking at her. Unhappiness could be read in them, his voice was quiet and yet heavy.
“Your promise?” she asked him cautiously and a slow nod was his answer to her question.
“I... I can't...” He broke off and looked to the side, once again avoiding Anwyn's questioning gaze.
“I ... forgive me, Trálír, but I can't follow you,” she whispered sad and wondering, what she had missed. “What is it, that pains you so much?”
“I can't fulfill my promise to travel to Krautbach with you!” Trálír burst out, his words filled with despair. Anwyn clearly heard the sorrow in the high elf's voice and tried not to show her obvious relief. Even though his answer hurt her at first, as she had longed and looked forward to this time together with him so much, she was still relieved that it was nothing worse. No one was ill, no one was in danger, it was the fact that they couldn't travel together for the celebration. But was this really the reason for Trálír's obvious misery?
Anwyn was certain that the future would certainly give them a chance or two to make up for it. She smiled gently and spoke to him in a loving voice.
“Love, don't torture yourself so much with the fact that you couldn't keep this promise. We will certainly find another way. And...” Anwyn broke off, bit her lips in embarrassment and cleared her throat. “And if we want to give ourselves to each other, then ... we can still do that, Trálír. It doesn't matter where that will be, does it? The time we spend together, the step we take, that's what will be important. Not the place. Let it be a hidden clearing in the forest, protected by the big trees. Or the barn on a moonless night, hidden in the shadows, loving each other. The essence of the whole thing is that we wanted to get close to each other.”
“But it was supposed to be special,” Trálír exclaimed, unable to prevent his voice from trembling slightly.
“It should be special,” he repeated, barely audible. “This moment, your devotion, your trust in me ... it should be worth more than a night in a barn or a tryst in the forest.”
Anwyn listened to his words in silence, her throat tight, her eyes became teary as she heard Trálír's hopelessness.
“It should be something special, Anwyn. I've walked these lands for decades and I've seen too much, too much to ignore it all. I know that many elves make their human playmates give themselves to them with forked tongues, usually in a dark corner. This is just the simple satisfaction of their own carnal desires and I don't want to go down that road. Not with you, you deserve so much more.”
Trálír's sigh that slipped over his lips sounded heavy.
“Something is foul with the elfs in these lands. Foul and rotten, like their blood is poisoned. I know it, I can feel it. The idea that male elves in particular are wise and compassionate beings does not apply to the elves in the Blackwater Lands.”
He shook his head in disgust. “They use their forked tongues, whisper untrue promises, feign feelings and love so that the women give themselves to them, are willing to do anything for them. And some others...” Trálír broke off and bit his lips.
“Some others don't even bother to use their sweet and false words to get their way through manipulation,” he continued sorrowfully. “I know my father often indulged his carnal desires with human and half-elf women, whether they wanted it or not. And I know that he raped my mother.”
“By the Gods,” Anwyn gasped and looked at Trálír in horror.
“I learned it from her own words in her diary when I found this years ago. And... and I know that Teárlach walks this path too. I know that he enjoys inflicting pain on others, that he loves to control and humiliate... And we are one blood, Anwyn. One blood. And I never want to go that way... the way of my family, who... who take everything by force.”
“Stop, Trálír. Stop that, please. I beg you.”
Anwyn leaned forward, put her hands on his cheeks and looked at him pleadingly.
“You are neither your father nor your brother, Trálír,” she said emphatically. “Stop comparing yourself to them, my love. I beg you.”
Trálír looked at Anwyn and his eyes filled with tears again, for he knew only too well the secret within him, the dark inside of which Anwyn had no idea. The desire in him to spill blood, to just give himself to the dark calling.
He remembered very clearly the voices screaming in his head, the desire to bathe in blood that burned through every single nerve pathway in his body, that made his blood boil, that drove him to the limits of his sanity.
He knew of this dark lust the moment his fist had struck the first blow to the arrogant elf's face. Everything in him at that moment was ignited by a burning fever.
And Trálír remembered the moment too well, the desire to tear his own brother to shreds, to reach so deeply into the flesh of his belly with his fingers so that he could tear out his intestines. He had longed for nothing more than to soak his own hands in the hot blood of Teárlach.
And on many a lonely night, when he did not manage to slip into meditation, but thoughts and feelings took over and crawled out of his subconscious, Trálír felt close to madness. The memories, this dark desire within him, seemed to be literally tearing him apart. He always tried to keep control of his thoughts and he succeeded, but he was aware that the thirst for blood lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment, longing to overcome Trálír's control and strike again.
How in all nine hells could he ever confide in Anwyn? How could he confess to her that such darkness dwelled within him? This dark desire would frighten her, possibly disgust her. As gentle as her heart was, as loving and loyal as her soul was, Trálír was sure that she would leave him immediately if he confided in her. And so he kept silent, hiding all the inner torment within him, the doubts about himself, and closed his eyes because he could no longer bear to see her faith in him, her deep trust in her gaze.
Anwyn leaned forward a little and pressed her lips tenderly to his forehead. She had hoped that her closeness and her obvious deep love would help him to lose the tension in his body, but she felt the strain in his breathing and also in the tense fingers that were now carefully placed on her waist.
Anwyn released her lips from his skin and placed her cheek against his hair as her hands gently stroked the left side of his face.
“It should be special,” Trálír whispered dejectedly. “Where my uncle has now made his home, no one cares if an elf has a human companion. Be it a halfling, a dwarf or a half-elf. There is no one there who would utter vile words or give evil looks. It's all the same to the villagers. All I wanted was to walk through the market with you, hand in hand. I wanted to listen to your happy laughter, to see the joy in your eyes, celebrating Aine. To the sound of an instrument or two, dancing with you among the others in the marketplace.”
Trálír felt Anwyn's lips press against his hair.
“I wanted to offer you the finest meal, I wanted to sit with you in the Tavern, drinking wine, watching you feast on the nourishing food. And when the evening was near, I would take you by the hand, my heart pounding with excitement and nervousness as we walked up the stairs together and both stopped in front of the door. I wanted to open the door and carry you over the threshold,” he said in a low voice. “I know that this is a custom among you humans when you ... when you make your alliance, isn't it?”
“Yes,” Anwyn replied with emotion.
It took a moment before Trálír found the courage to say what he so longed to say.
“I don't want to wait any longer, Anwyn. I love you ... and I want to love you. To feel you.”
“We'll have that moment,” Anwyn replied, leaning back a little and looking at him for a long time. Before she spoke to him, she stroked his long hair. “I promise you that. We will experience this and even if we both feel hopelessness and sadness now, we will get to this point, Trálír. Nothing will be able to stop us.”
The elf closed his eyes and his lips found Anwyn's. He breathed in her words, drank in her trust in him. His tongue explored her slowly, probing her desire, joining with her until they surrendered to each other in a loving dance.
When Anwyn broke away from Trálír and recognized a gentle smile on his lips, she was filled with deep happiness.
Anwyn carefully straightened up and held out her hand to Trálír to help him up. He was patting the dust and dirt from his pants when they both suddenly heard a soft scratching at the door. Anwyn grinned and opened it carefully until Yarrow had squeezed through and jumped up at Trálír, tail wagging excitedly.
“There's just nothing that dog won't hear,” Anwyn laughed amusedly and Trálír joined in her warm laughter.
“That's the way a good watchdog should be, isn't it?” the elf addressed the little dog, bent his knees and stroked him gently.
“Would you like to accompany me to the spring, Trálír?”
“Gladly,” he replied with an affirmative nod and stood up again. Hand in hand, Anwyn and he, followed by Yarrow, walked through the courtyard, through the gate and along to the spring. When they reached it, Trálír sat down on the bank and scratched Yarrow behind the ears, who took a seat next to him. Anwyn stopped suddenly and looked at him hesitantly. Raising one eyebrow slightly, Trálír returned her gaze questioningly.
“Ehm, I ... I wanted to take my nightgown off,” Anwyn mumbled and Trálír smiled knowingly.
“Go ahead then, take it off.”
Anwyn swallowed and slipped out of her nightgown without further ado, scampered quickly into the cool water and squeaked in fright as it was colder than she had expected.
She turned her back to Trálír, then sank to her knees and began to wash herself. She wondered if he would take the chance and get into the water too, because no one in the courtyard was awake yet and they would have some time to themselves, time to get closer to each other. But Anwyn didn't hear any noises or movement in the water and so she glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder at Trálír, who was still sitting on the bank and scratching Yarrow's belly, lost in thought, which the little dog enjoyed devotedly as he lay on his back.
Before Anwyn and Trálír had walked past the spring, she had reached for a small bar of soap, which she kept between the stones. She used it to wash her long hair and massaged the soap lather into her curls. Before washing it out, she carefully threw the soap onto the shore and then dived under.
When Anwyn resurfaced, the soap lather was still in her curls and she knelt in the water again, leaning back and resting her head on the surface of the water, trying to wash it out. When her lower back began to ache in this position, she straightened up, felt through her hair and decided that everything was now rinsed out and she could get out of the water.
With her feet still in the stream, Anwyn ran her hands through her wet locks to squeeze the excess water out of her hair. She did the same with her body as she brushed the remaining wetness from her limbs and then slipped back into her nightgown.
Thank you so, so much for reading, it means the world to me.
♥
“Forgive me, I don't want you to worry about me.” Trálír bit his lips and turned his face away, but Anwyn could see tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, which he sheepishly wiped away with the back of his hand.
His long hair, which he wore loose, fell into his face and Anwyn gently stroked the strands of hair behind his ears with her left hand. The elf closed his eyes at this tender gesture and a thick tear welled up under his closed eyelids. Anwyn caught the tear with her thumb, her heart heavy at Trálír's sorrow.
She knelt down and placed her left hand on his again, feeling how stiff and tense it felt. The tension seemed to run from his hands to his arms and through his entire body, because his breathing sounded choppy and strained. What is bothering him so much? Anwyn thought with an anxious heart and asked him in a gentle voice: “Love, won’t you tell me what’s on your mind? How long have you been sitting here? And why didn't you knock? Despite the warmth of the day, the nights can be unpleasantly cold due to the winds coming from the sea. You know that you are always welcome in our home.”
Trálír opened his eyes, but avoided looking directly at Anwyn. Instead, he stared at her hands, which gently clasped his.
“Since midnight,” he murmured after a while, which seemed like an eternity to Anwyn. She knew that Trálír sometimes found it difficult to talk about his feelings, even though he had often confided in her in the past. Nevertheless, it always took him a few moments before he seemed to find the right words. This time she suspected that what was bothering him so much was deep inside him, because the words to explain himself didn't seem to come out of his mouth.
“Midnight?” Anwyn replied in shock and stared at Trálír, frowning. For the moment, she didn't know what to say or how to react to his answer. What was torturing him so much that he couldn't bring himself to come to her?
She looked at him sadly, stroking his hand gently with her thumb, but Trálír remained silent, still avoiding her gaze. Anwyn's heart grew even heavier as the sadness and despair in his eyes both darkened and clouded his gaze.
“I can not keep my promise, Anwyn,” he said after a while into the silence between them and raised his eyes, finally looking at her. Unhappiness could be read in them, his voice was quiet and yet heavy.
“Your promise?” she asked him cautiously and a slow nod was his answer to her question.
“I... I can't...” He broke off and looked to the side, once again avoiding Anwyn's questioning gaze.
“I ... forgive me, Trálír, but I can't follow you,” she whispered sad and wondering, what she had missed. “What is it, that pains you so much?”
“I can't fulfill my promise to travel to Krautbach with you!” Trálír burst out, his words filled with despair. Anwyn clearly heard the sorrow in the high elf's voice and tried not to show her obvious relief. Even though his answer hurt her at first, as she had longed and looked forward to this time together with him so much, she was still relieved that it was nothing worse. No one was ill, no one was in danger, it was the fact that they couldn't travel together for the celebration. But was this really the reason for Trálír's obvious misery?
Anwyn was certain that the future would certainly give them a chance or two to make up for it. She smiled gently and spoke to him in a loving voice.
“Love, don't torture yourself so much with the fact that you couldn't keep this promise. We will certainly find another way. And...” Anwyn broke off, bit her lips in embarrassment and cleared her throat. “And if we want to give ourselves to each other, then ... we can still do that, Trálír. It doesn't matter where that will be, does it? The time we spend together, the step we take, that's what will be important. Not the place. Let it be a hidden clearing in the forest, protected by the big trees. Or the barn on a moonless night, hidden in the shadows, loving each other. The essence of the whole thing is that we wanted to get close to each other.”
“But it was supposed to be special,” Trálír exclaimed, unable to prevent his voice from trembling slightly.
“It should be special,” he repeated, barely audible. “This moment, your devotion, your trust in me ... it should be worth more than a night in a barn or a tryst in the forest.”
Anwyn listened to his words in silence, her throat tight, her eyes became teary as she heard Trálír's hopelessness.
“It should be something special, Anwyn. I've walked these lands for decades and I've seen too much, too much to ignore it all. I know that many elves make their human playmates give themselves to them with forked tongues, usually in a dark corner. This is just the simple satisfaction of their own carnal desires and I don't want to go down that road. Not with you, you deserve so much more.”
Trálír's sigh that slipped over his lips sounded heavy.
“Something is foul with the elfs in these lands. Foul and rotten, like their blood is poisoned. I know it, I can feel it. The idea that male elves in particular are wise and compassionate beings does not apply to the elves in the Blackwater Lands.”
He shook his head in disgust. “They use their forked tongues, whisper untrue promises, feign feelings and love so that the women give themselves to them, are willing to do anything for them. And some others...” Trálír broke off and bit his lips.
“Some others don't even bother to use their sweet and false words to get their way through manipulation,” he continued sorrowfully. “I know my father often indulged his carnal desires with human and half-elf women, whether they wanted it or not. And I know that he raped my mother.”
“By the Gods,” Anwyn gasped and looked at Trálír in horror.
“I learned it from her own words in her diary when I found this years ago. And... and I know that Teárlach walks this path too. I know that he enjoys inflicting pain on others, that he loves to control and humiliate... And we are one blood, Anwyn. One blood. And I never want to go that way... the way of my family, who... who take everything by force.”
“Stop, Trálír. Stop that, please. I beg you.”
Anwyn leaned forward, put her hands on his cheeks and looked at him pleadingly.
“You are neither your father nor your brother, Trálír,” she said emphatically. “Stop comparing yourself to them, my love. I beg you.”
Trálír looked at Anwyn and his eyes filled with tears again, for he knew only too well the secret within him, the dark inside of which Anwyn had no idea. The desire in him to spill blood, to just give himself to the dark calling.
He remembered very clearly the voices screaming in his head, the desire to bathe in blood that burned through every single nerve pathway in his body, that made his blood boil, that drove him to the limits of his sanity.
He knew of this dark lust the moment his fist had struck the first blow to the arrogant elf's face. Everything in him at that moment was ignited by a burning fever.
And Trálír remembered the moment too well, the desire to tear his own brother to shreds, to reach so deeply into the flesh of his belly with his fingers so that he could tear out his intestines. He had longed for nothing more than to soak his own hands in the hot blood of Teárlach.
And on many a lonely night, when he did not manage to slip into meditation, but thoughts and feelings took over and crawled out of his subconscious, Trálír felt close to madness. The memories, this dark desire within him, seemed to be literally tearing him apart. He always tried to keep control of his thoughts and he succeeded, but he was aware that the thirst for blood lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment, longing to overcome Trálír's control and strike again.
How in all nine hells could he ever confide in Anwyn? How could he confess to her that such darkness dwelled within him? This dark desire would frighten her, possibly disgust her. As gentle as her heart was, as loving and loyal as her soul was, Trálír was sure that she would leave him immediately if he confided in her. And so he kept silent, hiding all the inner torment within him, the doubts about himself, and closed his eyes because he could no longer bear to see her faith in him, her deep trust in her gaze.
Anwyn leaned forward a little and pressed her lips tenderly to his forehead. She had hoped that her closeness and her obvious deep love would help him to lose the tension in his body, but she felt the strain in his breathing and also in the tense fingers that were now carefully placed on her waist.
Anwyn released her lips from his skin and placed her cheek against his hair as her hands gently stroked the left side of his face.
“It should be special,” Trálír whispered dejectedly. “Where my uncle has now made his home, no one cares if an elf has a human companion. Be it a halfling, a dwarf or a half-elf. There is no one there who would utter vile words or give evil looks. It's all the same to the villagers. All I wanted was to walk through the market with you, hand in hand. I wanted to listen to your happy laughter, to see the joy in your eyes, celebrating Aine. To the sound of an instrument or two, dancing with you among the others in the marketplace.”
Trálír felt Anwyn's lips press against his hair.
“I wanted to offer you the finest meal, I wanted to sit with you in the Tavern, drinking wine, watching you feast on the nourishing food. And when the evening was near, I would take you by the hand, my heart pounding with excitement and nervousness as we walked up the stairs together and both stopped in front of the door. I wanted to open the door and carry you over the threshold,” he said in a low voice. “I know that this is a custom among you humans when you ... when you make your alliance, isn't it?”
“Yes,” Anwyn replied with emotion.
It took a moment before Trálír found the courage to say what he so longed to say.
“I don't want to wait any longer, Anwyn. I love you ... and I want to love you. To feel you.”
“We'll have that moment,” Anwyn replied, leaning back a little and looking at him for a long time. Before she spoke to him, she stroked his long hair. “I promise you that. We will experience this and even if we both feel hopelessness and sadness now, we will get to this point, Trálír. Nothing will be able to stop us.”
The elf closed his eyes and his lips found Anwyn's. He breathed in her words, drank in her trust in him. His tongue explored her slowly, probing her desire, joining with her until they surrendered to each other in a loving dance.
When Anwyn broke away from Trálír and recognized a gentle smile on his lips, she was filled with deep happiness.
Anwyn carefully straightened up and held out her hand to Trálír to help him up. He was patting the dust and dirt from his pants when they both suddenly heard a soft scratching at the door. Anwyn grinned and opened it carefully until Yarrow had squeezed through and jumped up at Trálír, tail wagging excitedly.
“There's just nothing that dog won't hear,” Anwyn laughed amusedly and Trálír joined in her warm laughter.
“That's the way a good watchdog should be, isn't it?” the elf addressed the little dog, bent his knees and stroked him gently.
“Would you like to accompany me to the spring, Trálír?”
“Gladly,” he replied with an affirmative nod and stood up again. Hand in hand, Anwyn and he, followed by Yarrow, walked through the courtyard, through the gate and along to the spring. When they reached it, Trálír sat down on the bank and scratched Yarrow behind the ears, who took a seat next to him. Anwyn stopped suddenly and looked at him hesitantly. Raising one eyebrow slightly, Trálír returned her gaze questioningly.
“Ehm, I ... I wanted to take my nightgown off,” Anwyn mumbled and Trálír smiled knowingly.
“Go ahead then, take it off.”
Anwyn swallowed and slipped out of her nightgown without further ado, scampered quickly into the cool water and squeaked in fright as it was colder than she had expected.
She turned her back to Trálír, then sank to her knees and began to wash herself. She wondered if he would take the chance and get into the water too, because no one in the courtyard was awake yet and they would have some time to themselves, time to get closer to each other. But Anwyn didn't hear any noises or movement in the water and so she glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder at Trálír, who was still sitting on the bank and scratching Yarrow's belly, lost in thought, which the little dog enjoyed devotedly as he lay on his back.
Before Anwyn and Trálír had walked past the spring, she had reached for a small bar of soap, which she kept between the stones. She used it to wash her long hair and massaged the soap lather into her curls. Before washing it out, she carefully threw the soap onto the shore and then dived under.
When Anwyn resurfaced, the soap lather was still in her curls and she knelt in the water again, leaning back and resting her head on the surface of the water, trying to wash it out. When her lower back began to ache in this position, she straightened up, felt through her hair and decided that everything was now rinsed out and she could get out of the water.
With her feet still in the stream, Anwyn ran her hands through her wet locks to squeeze the excess water out of her hair. She did the same with her body as she brushed the remaining wetness from her limbs and then slipped back into her nightgown.
no subject
Date: 2025-04-20 11:52 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-04-22 10:46 am (UTC)🧡🧡🧡
no subject
Date: 2025-04-20 05:10 pm (UTC)Das war ein gutes "comic relief" ;)
Ich fand das Kapital mal wieder so schön - Trálír hat wirklich Glück, dass er Anwyn gefunden hat. Ich kann seine Gefühle sehr gut nachvollziehen, sowohl die Enttäuschung als auch die Angst, dass Anwyn ihn verlassen würde, wenn sie von seinen "dunklen Bedürfnissen" wüsste. Ich denke aber auch, dass wir alle etwas "Dunkles" in uns haben, das gehört einfach zum Mensch (oder Elf ;))sein dazu.
no subject
Date: 2025-04-22 10:42 am (UTC)Freut mich so sehr dass es dich zum schmunzeln gebracht hat. Ich stelle mir den kleinen Hund vor dass er halt immer dabei sein will. Ja, er ist ein kleiner Bewacher, aber er liebt sein Pack und will immer geknuddelt werden. :D 🧡
Habe ja auch so ein bisschen mein Herz an Yarrow verloren. ^-^
Ja, ich denke das ebenfalls. Wo es Licht gibt, gibt es auch Schatten. Und ich mag den Kontrast zwischen ihm und Tearlach. Tralir, der so sehr dagegegn ankämpft und Tearlach, der sich dem Dunklen hingibt. Wobei das ja auch anders hätte sein können, wenn er in einem liebevollen Zuhause aufgewachsen wären.
Und auch der innere Zwiespalt Tralirs ist interessant. Er würde es gerne Anwyn erzählen, aber er hat viel zu viel Angst dass sie ihn verlassen würde.
Auf alle Fälle danke dass du mir die Möglichkeit gibst über meine Charaktere zu reden.
🧡🧡🧡
no subject
Date: 2025-04-20 05:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-04-22 10:38 am (UTC)You know, I am not an expert in love or feelings, I never had this, so I can't talk from experiences.
But I imagine that Love could be like that. Or I wish for that?
I just want for Tralir and Anwyn that they are happy, even when they have to fight so hard for their love.
So thank you very much!
🧡🧡🧡
no subject
Date: 2025-04-21 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2025-04-22 10:35 am (UTC)🧡🧡🧡