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haebinPlease enjoy the next chapter! And of course, thank you so, so much for reading! ♥
“Oh, what a pleasure to meet my esteemed brother here again in the sacred and mystical halls of Ehlenestra,” the younger elf greeted his older brother, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Such a surprise after all the months you...” he interrupted himself, looking up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words to continue. But Trálír knew that this was just an act on Teárlach's part to irritate him and make him lose his nerve. He could see it in the amused twinkle in his eyes that it was pure pleasure for him to tease Trálír and he took every chance he could get.
The firstborn inhaled and exhaled slowly, closed his eyes to focus and when he opened them, his gaze crossed with his brother's amber eyes.
“... in which you were barely seen,” Teárlach continued, a sneaky grin on his full lips. Trálír gritted his teeth in frustration.
“For one thing, it's just one hall where Mother Ehlenestra paid homage,” Trálír began, his voice dangerously low. "And for another, I can say the same for you, brother. Where have you been for the last few months? Or has it been more than a year or two since we met? I was probably not the only one who took every opportunity to leave the castle behind. In whatever way possible."
“Tztztz,” Teárlach rebuked his brother and raised a dark eyebrow. "So we're meeting again after such a long time of being estranged and you have nothing better to do than lecture me? If I was interested in the history of this hall, I'd ask any of those old, decrepit monks who might breathe their last at any moment."
The slight smile on Teárlach's lips was insincere, but for a brief moment there was an expression of recognition in his eyes. It seemed as if Trálír's irritated reaction pleased him.
"Well, not much has changed in all this time. I still haunt the dark and gloomy vaults, I'm still bored with this meaningless life in the castle and my status as second-born, and as soon as father's gaze is no longer on me, I indulge my physical desires with one woman or another. Be it in one of these impoverished, ugly villages or in a crumbling barn. For a few silver coins, the village girls become the most willing whores you can imagine."
Trálír rolled his eyes.
“You really haven't changed a bit,” he said, shaking his head.
If the Blackwater Lands were not such a remote country with only small villages or communities, but a large, bustling city like Waterdeep or Baldur's Gate, Teárlach would spend his life in the numerous whorehouses, dives and gambling halls. This would not be respectable company for the ruler's second-born, of course, but at least it would distract him enough that he would hardly indulge his dark and dangerous desires, Trálír thought. Here, in the confines of the castle, in the dark woods, surrounded by monsters and wild animals, Teárlach felt trapped like a bear too big in a cage too small. And Trálír knew about the danger his brother posed to everyone else. For the servants of the castle, for the inhabitants of the surrounding villages and for Anwyn and her loved ones.
"And neither, it seems, do you. Is your heart still taken, brother? Still with the same woman? Doesn't that get boring in the long run? To fuck the same girl over and over again?" Teárlach's grin was arrogant, his voice dark and expectant at the same time, because he knew that Anwyn was the weakest point in his brother's life.
"It's that herb woman, isn't it? That witch. So does she still have you under her spell?" Teárlach felt a tingle in his body, a feeling of satisfaction as he saw Trálír's face harden at his words. His eyes literally sparked with anger.
The younger man felt his older brother's tension as if it were his own and he relished the physical pain it brought him. The firstborn's voice was cold as he said, “You bore me.”
Teárlach, incredulous, raised an eyebrow at Trálír before turning on his heel to leave the sacred hall and commanding: "Stay."
His older brother inhaled sharply upon hearing the order, his breath caught in his throat.
“Excuse me?” He ventured, "Are you ordering me around? It seems you've forgotten what order you're in." Trálír's blue-green eyes darkened dangerously, a sign of the rage that seethed within him, the anger that prickled just beneath his skin.
“By all nine Hells, Trálír, don't be such a spoilsport,” Teárlach sighed, rolling his eyes. "This is nothing more than non-serious banter between us. It's not my idea to spend time with you voluntarily. I would rather bury myself in a woman's breasts than be here in this hall with you. Do you really think I have nothing better to do? It's an order from father that forced us both here."
The Highelf stared at his younger brother in confusion. "What? I don't understand. Why are we supposed to be here?"
"What's not to understand, Trálír? He ordered it, we carry it out. Just like we always have. An order from him and we obey. It was drilled in our heads since early childhood. We have no questions to ask."
"Father orders us to take a bath in Ehlenestra's hall? Together? For what reason?"
Teárlach shrugged his shoulders in boredom. "How should I know that and why should I care, Trálír? I don't feel like wondering what motives our sire has. Besides, there are worse things than sitting in a pool full of water with you. On top of that, we got a little present from him." His gaze slid to the side and he unconsciously bit his lower lip, the look in his amber-colored eyes glinted with amusement. “A most promising gift.” Teárlach's dark voice was tinged with sensuality.
Trálír followed his brother's gaze and paused in surprise when he saw the two young women standing next to a pillar.
The two seemed to be sisters, for their resemblance to each other was striking. The older one, who looked at him with a pert look, a provocative smile on her full lips, must be a little younger than Anwyn. Trálír knew her, for he had seen her in the courtyard a time or two.
A maid? he wondered, looking at her thoughtfully for a moment. The ruler's son's frown unsettled the young maiden a little and her smile disappeared.
Trálír had to admit to himself that he didn't know what part of the castle she worked in, whether she was a chambermaid or whether she worked in the kitchen or in the fields. And he couldn't put a name to her either.
Like Anwyn, she was also of the human race, slightly taller than his beloved, whom he missed so sorely with every moment he had to spend in the castle.
Her long blonde hair that reminded him of the color of overripe honey fell in soft waves over her shoulders down to her waist and framed her round, lovely face with the large blue eyes. Beautifully shaped lips, the lower slightly fuller than the upper, were a particular feature of her body that she was proud of.
She was still looking at him, hoping that his eyes would cross hers, but his gaze slid over her body. Unlike his younger brother, she saw neither lust nor desire in them.
Trálír noticed that she was wearing a simple dress made of white linen. The round neckline hinted at the base of her cleavage as it was cut close to her shoulders and chest. The sleeves reached just above her elbows while the hem of the dress ended at calf height. And that was the only thing she wore on her body.
A simple, almost poor-looking linen dress.
No shoes, no belt, no jewelry.
Aware of his gaze, she slowly raised her eyes and felt her heart beat faster as their eyes crossed. Looking almost embarrassed, she bowed her head in surrender.
"Oh my dear Brother, don't be fooled by her submissive demeanor. She is a whore under the sheets," Teárlach whispered, his chest rising and falling under the rising excitement he felt. "And she is a good one because she learned from the best. It had been a pure pleasure to ride her."
The young woman bit her lower lip in embarrassment but could not prevent her cheeks from turning red at Teárlach's words. When he noticed this, he laughed in amusement. "Oh yes, Petal. I'm not wrong about that, am I? You enjoyed it too ... every single time I fucked you, right? I can still see it in your eyes. The memory of the pleasure I gave you," he purred, his voice sounding like liquid velvet.
The young girl, who was standing right next to her older sister, stared fearfully at those present with wide eyes. Uncertainty and shame could be seen in her gaze.
"Trust me, Trálír, she knows exactly what she's doing. She was a studious, lusty little maiden who memorized my every word. It's easy for her to get what she wants with a skillful look, a provocative smile. And the way she moves her hips when you get the pleasure of feeling her on top of you ... of enjoying her wet, promising heat." Tearlach unconsciously moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue as his head tilted slightly to the side to let his gaze slide slowly over her body like a sensual touch.
"I'm sure she would be an exceptionally interesting change for you. Unfortunately no longer a virgin, but by the gods, she knows how to suck a dick."
Trálír watched his brother with a disgusted expression on his face.
By the gods, Teárlach, why are you making it so difficult for me? he thought resignedly as his gaze rested on the younger elf's face as he gazed greedily at the young woman. He recognized the dark desire in his amber eyes as his hand glided through the surface of the water in an almost sensual circular motion.
“Come to me,” the Secondborn whispered and watched as the young woman stepped to the edge of the pool so that he could wrap his hand around her slender anklet.
Trálír watched her unconsciously bite her lower lip as she felt Teárlach's fingers, damp from the water, glide over her skin in an almost gentle touch.
One could almost believe that this was a gesture of devotion, Trálír thought sadly. But he knew better.
Devotion, love, trust, finding oneself in the other was something that Teárlach did not know. And he had not the slightest interest in getting to know it. He was interested in power, control, the satisfaction of his own desires. What did he care about the feelings or thoughts of his counterpart?
Meanwhile, Teárlach's fingers had wandered between her lower legs to the knees of the young woman, whose breathing had audibly quickened. With half-closed eyelids, her cheeks red with arousal, she pressed her fingers into the fabric of her dress, which she had pulled up to the middle of her thighs, so that Teárlach could massage her flesh with his fingertips.
Trálír lowered his head, gritting his teeth as he was disgusted to watch Teárlach play with her.
And I had hoped that he had changed, that he had undergone a transformation in all the months we had not seen each other, that he had left the darkness behind him, Trálír thought resignedly.
He raised his eyes and looked at the younger girl, who was still standing alone in the same spot as before. She looked lost and abandoned. When their eyes crossed, she quickly lowered her eyelids and stared at the ground. The shame of her older sister's behavior was clearly visible in her bowed head and dropping shoulders.
“I'm so tired of this,” Trálír muttered to himself and shook his head dejectedly. Without looking at his younger brother again, he turned around and wanted to make his way back. But before he could take another step, Teárlach's deep voice rang through the hall, calling out his brother's name. For a fraction of a moment, Trálír was tempted to ignore him, to keep walking, to leave him behind. To leave all this behind him. But something held him back, something he could not name, and so he stopped. Annoyed, he looked over his shoulder at his brother, who was looking at him with a serious expression.
“Come back, take this bath and give the girl a chance to wash you before father gets the idea of punishing her for your stubbornness.”
Trálír raised an eyebrow in surprise at Teárlach's words. He hesitated when he saw the older maid climb into the pool with his younger brother.
The basin was divided into two pools. The deeper one was in the middle of the larger pool and could be reached by two steps, while the larger and shallower one had a narrow seating area that closed in a circle around the edge of it, allowing Tearlír to sit relaxed in the shallow water zone with his upper arms resting on the edge.
The young woman now held a sponge and a bar of soap in her hand and Trálír wondered where she had conjured them from when he discovered a golden bowl, which was now only half covered by Teárlach's shoulder.
“Very well,” Trálír finally gave in and took a deep breath to recharge and calm himself down.
Even if everything in him spoke against it, he had to admit that Tearlach's words were true, because the girl would be punished for his reluctance. Trálír wanted to avoid this, so he walked slowly to the pool and noticed that she was hurrying towards him to help him undress.
He quickly raised his hand and shook his head to let her know that he didn't need her help and she stopped, instantly self-conscious. She lowered her gaze again, avoided eye contact with her master and pulled her lower lip between her teeth, a sign of uncertainty.
Trálír silently stepped out of his boots, aware that his younger brother's gaze was on him, followed by his trousers, tunic and underwear, before he stepped into the cool water of the pool and sat down on the seat in the low water.
He took another deep breath, closed his eyes and enjoyed the coolness of the water.
Trálír realized that the tension he had felt since entering the west wing was slowly slipping away.
His muscles relaxed and for a moment he almost felt something like a quiet peace when suddenly a soft, unsettled voice could be heard.
“Oh, what a pleasure to meet my esteemed brother here again in the sacred and mystical halls of Ehlenestra,” the younger elf greeted his older brother, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Such a surprise after all the months you...” he interrupted himself, looking up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words to continue. But Trálír knew that this was just an act on Teárlach's part to irritate him and make him lose his nerve. He could see it in the amused twinkle in his eyes that it was pure pleasure for him to tease Trálír and he took every chance he could get.
The firstborn inhaled and exhaled slowly, closed his eyes to focus and when he opened them, his gaze crossed with his brother's amber eyes.
“... in which you were barely seen,” Teárlach continued, a sneaky grin on his full lips. Trálír gritted his teeth in frustration.
“For one thing, it's just one hall where Mother Ehlenestra paid homage,” Trálír began, his voice dangerously low. "And for another, I can say the same for you, brother. Where have you been for the last few months? Or has it been more than a year or two since we met? I was probably not the only one who took every opportunity to leave the castle behind. In whatever way possible."
“Tztztz,” Teárlach rebuked his brother and raised a dark eyebrow. "So we're meeting again after such a long time of being estranged and you have nothing better to do than lecture me? If I was interested in the history of this hall, I'd ask any of those old, decrepit monks who might breathe their last at any moment."
The slight smile on Teárlach's lips was insincere, but for a brief moment there was an expression of recognition in his eyes. It seemed as if Trálír's irritated reaction pleased him.
"Well, not much has changed in all this time. I still haunt the dark and gloomy vaults, I'm still bored with this meaningless life in the castle and my status as second-born, and as soon as father's gaze is no longer on me, I indulge my physical desires with one woman or another. Be it in one of these impoverished, ugly villages or in a crumbling barn. For a few silver coins, the village girls become the most willing whores you can imagine."
Trálír rolled his eyes.
“You really haven't changed a bit,” he said, shaking his head.
If the Blackwater Lands were not such a remote country with only small villages or communities, but a large, bustling city like Waterdeep or Baldur's Gate, Teárlach would spend his life in the numerous whorehouses, dives and gambling halls. This would not be respectable company for the ruler's second-born, of course, but at least it would distract him enough that he would hardly indulge his dark and dangerous desires, Trálír thought. Here, in the confines of the castle, in the dark woods, surrounded by monsters and wild animals, Teárlach felt trapped like a bear too big in a cage too small. And Trálír knew about the danger his brother posed to everyone else. For the servants of the castle, for the inhabitants of the surrounding villages and for Anwyn and her loved ones.
"And neither, it seems, do you. Is your heart still taken, brother? Still with the same woman? Doesn't that get boring in the long run? To fuck the same girl over and over again?" Teárlach's grin was arrogant, his voice dark and expectant at the same time, because he knew that Anwyn was the weakest point in his brother's life.
"It's that herb woman, isn't it? That witch. So does she still have you under her spell?" Teárlach felt a tingle in his body, a feeling of satisfaction as he saw Trálír's face harden at his words. His eyes literally sparked with anger.
The younger man felt his older brother's tension as if it were his own and he relished the physical pain it brought him. The firstborn's voice was cold as he said, “You bore me.”
Teárlach, incredulous, raised an eyebrow at Trálír before turning on his heel to leave the sacred hall and commanding: "Stay."
His older brother inhaled sharply upon hearing the order, his breath caught in his throat.
“Excuse me?” He ventured, "Are you ordering me around? It seems you've forgotten what order you're in." Trálír's blue-green eyes darkened dangerously, a sign of the rage that seethed within him, the anger that prickled just beneath his skin.
“By all nine Hells, Trálír, don't be such a spoilsport,” Teárlach sighed, rolling his eyes. "This is nothing more than non-serious banter between us. It's not my idea to spend time with you voluntarily. I would rather bury myself in a woman's breasts than be here in this hall with you. Do you really think I have nothing better to do? It's an order from father that forced us both here."
The Highelf stared at his younger brother in confusion. "What? I don't understand. Why are we supposed to be here?"
"What's not to understand, Trálír? He ordered it, we carry it out. Just like we always have. An order from him and we obey. It was drilled in our heads since early childhood. We have no questions to ask."
"Father orders us to take a bath in Ehlenestra's hall? Together? For what reason?"
Teárlach shrugged his shoulders in boredom. "How should I know that and why should I care, Trálír? I don't feel like wondering what motives our sire has. Besides, there are worse things than sitting in a pool full of water with you. On top of that, we got a little present from him." His gaze slid to the side and he unconsciously bit his lower lip, the look in his amber-colored eyes glinted with amusement. “A most promising gift.” Teárlach's dark voice was tinged with sensuality.
Trálír followed his brother's gaze and paused in surprise when he saw the two young women standing next to a pillar.
The two seemed to be sisters, for their resemblance to each other was striking. The older one, who looked at him with a pert look, a provocative smile on her full lips, must be a little younger than Anwyn. Trálír knew her, for he had seen her in the courtyard a time or two.
A maid? he wondered, looking at her thoughtfully for a moment. The ruler's son's frown unsettled the young maiden a little and her smile disappeared.
Trálír had to admit to himself that he didn't know what part of the castle she worked in, whether she was a chambermaid or whether she worked in the kitchen or in the fields. And he couldn't put a name to her either.
Like Anwyn, she was also of the human race, slightly taller than his beloved, whom he missed so sorely with every moment he had to spend in the castle.
Her long blonde hair that reminded him of the color of overripe honey fell in soft waves over her shoulders down to her waist and framed her round, lovely face with the large blue eyes. Beautifully shaped lips, the lower slightly fuller than the upper, were a particular feature of her body that she was proud of.
She was still looking at him, hoping that his eyes would cross hers, but his gaze slid over her body. Unlike his younger brother, she saw neither lust nor desire in them.
Trálír noticed that she was wearing a simple dress made of white linen. The round neckline hinted at the base of her cleavage as it was cut close to her shoulders and chest. The sleeves reached just above her elbows while the hem of the dress ended at calf height. And that was the only thing she wore on her body.
A simple, almost poor-looking linen dress.
No shoes, no belt, no jewelry.
Aware of his gaze, she slowly raised her eyes and felt her heart beat faster as their eyes crossed. Looking almost embarrassed, she bowed her head in surrender.
"Oh my dear Brother, don't be fooled by her submissive demeanor. She is a whore under the sheets," Teárlach whispered, his chest rising and falling under the rising excitement he felt. "And she is a good one because she learned from the best. It had been a pure pleasure to ride her."
The young woman bit her lower lip in embarrassment but could not prevent her cheeks from turning red at Teárlach's words. When he noticed this, he laughed in amusement. "Oh yes, Petal. I'm not wrong about that, am I? You enjoyed it too ... every single time I fucked you, right? I can still see it in your eyes. The memory of the pleasure I gave you," he purred, his voice sounding like liquid velvet.
The young girl, who was standing right next to her older sister, stared fearfully at those present with wide eyes. Uncertainty and shame could be seen in her gaze.
"Trust me, Trálír, she knows exactly what she's doing. She was a studious, lusty little maiden who memorized my every word. It's easy for her to get what she wants with a skillful look, a provocative smile. And the way she moves her hips when you get the pleasure of feeling her on top of you ... of enjoying her wet, promising heat." Tearlach unconsciously moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue as his head tilted slightly to the side to let his gaze slide slowly over her body like a sensual touch.
"I'm sure she would be an exceptionally interesting change for you. Unfortunately no longer a virgin, but by the gods, she knows how to suck a dick."
Trálír watched his brother with a disgusted expression on his face.
By the gods, Teárlach, why are you making it so difficult for me? he thought resignedly as his gaze rested on the younger elf's face as he gazed greedily at the young woman. He recognized the dark desire in his amber eyes as his hand glided through the surface of the water in an almost sensual circular motion.
“Come to me,” the Secondborn whispered and watched as the young woman stepped to the edge of the pool so that he could wrap his hand around her slender anklet.
Trálír watched her unconsciously bite her lower lip as she felt Teárlach's fingers, damp from the water, glide over her skin in an almost gentle touch.
One could almost believe that this was a gesture of devotion, Trálír thought sadly. But he knew better.
Devotion, love, trust, finding oneself in the other was something that Teárlach did not know. And he had not the slightest interest in getting to know it. He was interested in power, control, the satisfaction of his own desires. What did he care about the feelings or thoughts of his counterpart?
Meanwhile, Teárlach's fingers had wandered between her lower legs to the knees of the young woman, whose breathing had audibly quickened. With half-closed eyelids, her cheeks red with arousal, she pressed her fingers into the fabric of her dress, which she had pulled up to the middle of her thighs, so that Teárlach could massage her flesh with his fingertips.
Trálír lowered his head, gritting his teeth as he was disgusted to watch Teárlach play with her.
And I had hoped that he had changed, that he had undergone a transformation in all the months we had not seen each other, that he had left the darkness behind him, Trálír thought resignedly.
He raised his eyes and looked at the younger girl, who was still standing alone in the same spot as before. She looked lost and abandoned. When their eyes crossed, she quickly lowered her eyelids and stared at the ground. The shame of her older sister's behavior was clearly visible in her bowed head and dropping shoulders.
“I'm so tired of this,” Trálír muttered to himself and shook his head dejectedly. Without looking at his younger brother again, he turned around and wanted to make his way back. But before he could take another step, Teárlach's deep voice rang through the hall, calling out his brother's name. For a fraction of a moment, Trálír was tempted to ignore him, to keep walking, to leave him behind. To leave all this behind him. But something held him back, something he could not name, and so he stopped. Annoyed, he looked over his shoulder at his brother, who was looking at him with a serious expression.
“Come back, take this bath and give the girl a chance to wash you before father gets the idea of punishing her for your stubbornness.”
Trálír raised an eyebrow in surprise at Teárlach's words. He hesitated when he saw the older maid climb into the pool with his younger brother.
The basin was divided into two pools. The deeper one was in the middle of the larger pool and could be reached by two steps, while the larger and shallower one had a narrow seating area that closed in a circle around the edge of it, allowing Tearlír to sit relaxed in the shallow water zone with his upper arms resting on the edge.
The young woman now held a sponge and a bar of soap in her hand and Trálír wondered where she had conjured them from when he discovered a golden bowl, which was now only half covered by Teárlach's shoulder.
“Very well,” Trálír finally gave in and took a deep breath to recharge and calm himself down.
Even if everything in him spoke against it, he had to admit that Tearlach's words were true, because the girl would be punished for his reluctance. Trálír wanted to avoid this, so he walked slowly to the pool and noticed that she was hurrying towards him to help him undress.
He quickly raised his hand and shook his head to let her know that he didn't need her help and she stopped, instantly self-conscious. She lowered her gaze again, avoided eye contact with her master and pulled her lower lip between her teeth, a sign of uncertainty.
Trálír silently stepped out of his boots, aware that his younger brother's gaze was on him, followed by his trousers, tunic and underwear, before he stepped into the cool water of the pool and sat down on the seat in the low water.
He took another deep breath, closed his eyes and enjoyed the coolness of the water.
Trálír realized that the tension he had felt since entering the west wing was slowly slipping away.
His muscles relaxed and for a moment he almost felt something like a quiet peace when suddenly a soft, unsettled voice could be heard.
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