Fantasy Aedighar [closed]

[scoorpiuuss]

The way Trevas had raised his two daughters had been pretty much normal in the beginning. Now he was more prone to using harsh discipline and force. That did not mean he didn’t care for them. If he had the time, Trevas imagined he would have spent a lot more of his days with his two daughters, but he didn’t have time. He was busy. People were always whispering in his ear, always wanting his opinion on things. Then he would have to deal with a couple of outlaws, why the northerners weren’t saying anything.

One day his mind might’ve exploded at how much he constantly felt like he had to do. Trevas would have to pretend to care for Katlyn, try to love her while caring for his daughters. It was overwhelming, and he felt like he always tried his best though it was clearly not enough.

“You are. I know there’s no point in explaining this to you. You don’t seem to understand that though you may not need love, others do. You’re hurting them in ways you don’t realize. Right, you don’t care. I know, you don’t have to remind me again.”

“Katlyn, that is enough!” Trevas snapped at her, his voice echoing through the room. He hated the fact that she had the power to make him feel that way. Like he wasn’t doing good enough, when all he ever thought about was how hard he tried. Trevas had a difficult time showing love to his daughters when he had no idea how. It had been so easy when Katlyn had been on his side, but she wasn’t anymore.

"I apologize for my sentimentality."

Instead of saying anything to her he scoffed. This was what his life had become with Katlyn. He couldn’t see a way where he could actually try to care for her ever again. When she made him angry he stayed angry for such a long time that it went out on everyone else around him. Though she wanted to blame him for everything, Trevas wanted to blame her for it all. For how he treated his daughters.

Maybe they were both the problem for why Trevas was treating them, but he would never want to admit that he was the cause of their miserable lives.

Trevas walked past her, over to the table where his cup still stood with some wine left. Quickly he drank the rest of it, wanting to refill his cup, but he didn’t. All this talk about the past and who he had used to be had made him feel strange. He wasn’t sure if he was actually upset over it, or if it was just the anger and wine that made him feel that way. Either way he knew that he didn’t care about Katlyn.

That was all that mattered. That he didn’t care about her.

Katlyn didn’t say anything either, and Trevas was thankful that she didn’t. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if she had kept talking. Now he had learned the hard way to never ask for her honesty again. It had seemed so fun in the beginning, but no matter how fun it was for him to see Katlyn upset, he hadn’t expected that they would take a little walk into the past.

He wondered what his mother would have done in a situation like he was in now. She had been a tough mother and she had raised him to be a King. Trevas had been raised like any other Wynver before him, with discipline that could make any child cry. Still she had loved him and cared for him, just like Trevas thought he did for his daughters. Katlyn wasn’t a Wynver though, she would never understand.

“Speak to me like that again Katlyn and I will have your head cut off.”

"We'd both be a lot happier then."

What she said was in reality very true, but again Trevas found himself growing silent. Not wanting to speak about the topic anymore. At least now he had made up his mind about a lot of things. He would tell Ashara that he would gladly send Sir Rowan to be her sworn shield. Then he would check up on Elaria to see how she was doing without bringing up the subject of a child.

Trevas wouldn’t do it for Katlyn, but for himself.

The whole conversation about their past had drained Trevas, and he put his cup down on the table. His mind was slowly turning into a messy place as he walked over to their bed. He was thinking about if he truly was doing something wrong, but he couldn’t see it. Just because he was a harsh father didn’t mean he was a terrible one. Trevas felt as if he had given them a lot, but maybe they didn’t see it or maybe it wasn’t what they wanted.

It was so complicated that Trevas wondered what he truly should have done. Instead of starting to doubt himself though he just pushed all those thoughts away, locked them somewhere in his mind where he wouldn’t remember it. Trevas would show his daughters in the morning that he did care for them, but he imagined that would be it.

Nothing else would come from it. Trevas would go back to his duties and be busy to the point where he wouldn’t see them much.

 

[desti]

Mistakes were made.
Chapter XXXI
House Hastwyck
Sow knowledge, reap wisdom
Santrella, Southern lands of Aedighar
​

The past few weeks had been eventful to say the least. There had been a minor riot in the middle of Santrella’s busiest street, but the guards had taken care of that. Lady Carlys and Lady Leanah hadn’t been anywhere near any harm, and that was all Arthor cared about. This would get fixed soon enough, and the streets would be safe again.

What had happened to Leanah still haunted him. Arthor would wake up from nightmares about what would’ve happened if he’d shown up in the hallway just a few minutes later. It made him upset and angry, and he feared he’d never stop thinking about it. Though Arthor had killed the man himself, he still felt as though he hadn’t done enough for her.

That night he had stayed with Leanah. Arthor hadn’t closed his eyes once, afraid that Leanah might have a nightmare or that perhaps something else would happen during the night. The intruder had made him paranoid, and every noise outside and in the hallways made him nervous. How could he sleep when every noise was that man, coming back to finish what he started.

The only good thing was that Leanah was starting to get better. She still seemed anxious and wouldn’t really want to go outside, but Arthor understood her worries and so did her mother. Nobody forced her to do anything she didn’t want to, and everyone was making sure that Leanah was well taken care of. They all wanted the best for her.

Lady Carlys’ reaction had been just what he had expected it to be. After everyone had calmed down, though, she had thanked him for saving her daughter from such a fate. They talked about the guards that had failed to show up for their rounds, and Arthor vowed to her to take care of it himself. Leanah didn’t have to know about it, though.

Arthor tried his best to talk with Leanah and distract her from everything. It was the least he could do for her after everything. He wanted her to be happy again and forget that man, but how could Leanah forget when even Arthor couldn’t erase it from his memory. Still, Arthor hoped that one day Leanah would be able to move on from what happened and become her true self again. It had left him for many sleepless nights. Arthor felt it was his fault for not being by her side, though he knew that wasn’t true. It wasn’t his duty, it had been the guards fault for not being there. Yet, he found himself beating himself up about what had happened to her.

To calm himself down, Arthor tried to focus on the research with Elias again, but that was dreadful as well. What had happened a few weeks prior… well, it had been a mistake, to say the least. Arthor had woken up that morning, pressed against Elias’ side with his arm and leg thrown over him carelessly. He’d been too sleepy to initially notice that something was wrong, but then he opened his eyes and thoughts of how this could not happen again rushed through his mind.

Thankfully, nothing had happened. Arthor’s shirt had been off, but that was about it. That calmed him down at least, but he’d left the room as soon as he possibly could, trying to not think too much of it. Needless to say, the coming weeks and conversations with Elias had been uncomfortable. They’d not mentioned what had happened with even one word, but the air between them was tense and Arthor didn’t like that.

Why did this keep happening to him? Arthor tried to be a good friend, he really did. This wasn’t what friends did, not at all. First Elias, then Leanah, then Elias again. It wasn’t normal and it wasn’t okay. Arthor felt embarrassed just thinking about it and he wanted to erase those memories from his head, but the best he could do was lock them away and hope they wouldn’t resurface.

There must’ve been something wrong with Arthor. Perhaps it was the fact that he never really got out of the castle or made an effort to make relationships. If he’d just find someone he could spend the rest of his life with, maybe these foolish decisions would finally stop. Arthor didn’t want this to happen again, he feared that his friendships couldn’t keep bouncing back from things like that.

As they sat in the library once again, Elias was awfully quiet. Arthor kept thinking about the stupid shit they’d done here and it made him want to leave immediately. But he didn’t and kept staring at the table in front of him, not even trying to read the book he held in his hands. Their work was pretty much over now, it was just fact checking to make sure before presenting it to Lady Carlys.

Arthor tried to focus, he did, but all those mistakes kept coming back to him. He wondered if maybe he should go sober, but Gods he loved wine so much. It was ridiculous, but Arthor knew he wouldn’t stop drinking, which also meant that he wouldn’t stop being a horrible, horrible drunk friend.

“Alright,” Arthor said loudly to break the painful silence, and turned to face Elias, “I can’t do this. I’m sorry for what I did. It was stupid. I don’t know why I do it.”

The wine was to blame, he was sure of it. Arthor knew he didn’t like Elias in that way, Leanah was a bit trickier, but he didn’t want to accept that his feelings were to blame for what happened. It was the wine, that’s it. He was just a weird fucker when he got drunk, that was all that was to it. Arthor tried not to remember how he had kissed Leanah outside in the desert, because that would ruin his blissful theories about wine being to blame.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

What had happened between Elias and Arthor in the library made Elias feel like he was a young man again, too foolish to make smart decisions. At his age he should have known better than to drink as much wine as he had that night. Elias knew damn well what had happened years ago between them, and he didn’t like Arthor like that. They were good friends, and what they had done years ago and in the library were both mistakes caused by large amounts of wine and stupidity.

Elias knew he was smarter than that and how stupid it had been of him to initiate such things with Arthor. And there he had been, kissing Arthor like it was the only thing he had wanted to do.

It had been uncomfortable waking up beside Arthor the next morning. At first Elias couldn’t really process what had happened, but as soon as he did there was an awkward and strange feeling washing over him. All of it reminded him so much of that morning they had woken up together years ago, but thankfully Elias hadn’t done anything else than kiss Arthor that night.

Sometimes he thought it was a miracle they were still friends after everything, but though they were still friends, things had become very awkward between them. Elias couldn’t find the courage to speak to Arthor when they saw each other. What they had done had been wrong, and even if it had felt nice at the moment, Elias knew he shouldn’t have done it and that they should have known better.

Elias tried to pretend that nothing had happened, and spoke to Arthor like their mistake didn’t exist, but it was difficult. Every time their gaze met all Elias could think about was what they had done, and still he couldn’t say anything about it. Gods, they were foolish.

At least he had his books and something to work on. It helped him forget about everything and focus on what was really important. Finishing their case to present it for Lady Carlys.

While reading Elias would let the books consume him to the point where he didn’t speak to Arthor or even look at him. The last thing he needed was to get distracted by him, and he was also afraid of speaking to his friend because in his mind there was a chance he could lose Arthor. Since they hadn’t talked about it, Elias mind just jumped to conclusions about what Arthor felt and thought.

Personally he felt like it was a mistake he didn’t want to do again. They were such good friends that there was too much to risk for Elias, and there was nothing between them romantically.

Elias knew he should have said something about it when they were in the library again, but he just stared at the book he held in his hand, reading the same sentence over and over again. It was uncomfortably silent between the two of them, and Elias hadn’t dared to look up at Arthor since they both had sat down.

“Alright. I can’t do this. I’m sorry for what I did. It was stupid. I don’t know why I do it.”

Arthor broke the silence between them, and as Elias looked up from the book, Arthor was facing him. He shrugged at his friend’s words. “Don’t apologize. We were both stupid,” Elias mumbled. In reality it was Elias who had brought the wine in the first place, but he hadn’t exactly expected the outcome to be what it was.

"Well, it does take two idiots to do those things," Arthor laughed, "wine fucks me up."

“Remind me to never drink with you again. What happened was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

"Easier said than done."

Since they were finally talking, Elias put the book he was holding away and laid it down on the table in front of him. Though it could be difficult sometimes for them to stop drinking so much wine and not let those mistakes happen again, they had to try.

“We have to try.”

"We just can't be left alone with wine. That doesn't sound too hard, right?"

“Only times we’re allowed to drink is around other people. You have to promise me that Arthor. I can’t go through this strange and awkward situation again.”

"I mean... Even around other people it's a bit risky, isn't it? I think we just shouldn't be drunk around each other in general."

Deep down Elias knew that Arthor was right. They could have easily ended up doing the same mistakes over and over again no matter if they were surrounded by other people or alone. As long as there was wine involved then there was a risk. Elias shrugged, feeling unsure how to deal with the situation with Arthor.

Both of them loved drinking, and Elias had so much fun drinking wine with Arthor when they were able to behave like friends should behave. Now it was slightly scary, and Elias wondered what it would be like drinking with Arthor again. He hated the feeling of losing control over his own mind and body to the point where he actually did stupid things like that, but he didn’t hate Arthor and he didn’t hate wine. It was confusing, to say the least.

“I like drinking with you though,” Elias chuckled, “not being able to do that would make my life miserable.”

 

[desti]

“Don’t apologize. We were both stupid.”

Truly. They’re idiots, honestly. They kept making the same mistakes over and over again. For being the smartest man Arthor knew, Elias was a fool sometimes. They were both to blame, obviously. Elias should’ve never brought the wine and Arthor should’ve never taken that first sip. Their conversation should’ve stayed on King Trevas, not where it had ultimately strayed to.

"Well, it does take two idiots to do those things," Arthor laughed, "wine fucks me up."

“Remind me to never drink with you again. What happened was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

That was hard to believe. Arthor had told himself that whenever something happened, big or small, but it always happened again. He didn’t know what was wrong with them, but they just forgot everything when they were drunk. It was stupid, and Arthor was surprised that there hadn’t been serious consequences.

"Easier said than done."

“We have to try.”

"We just can't be left alone with wine. That doesn't sound too hard, right?"

“Only times we’re allowed to drink is around other people. You have to promise me that Arthor. I can’t go through this strange and awkward situation again.”

Arthor wanted to say that that sounded like a good idea, but it really didn’t. Even during feasts, Arthor got a bit too handsy. It made him feel awkward when he thought about if someone had ever noticed just how close he usually sat to Elias, or how his arm was almost always draped over his shoulders. If anyone would grow suspicious of something that wasn’t there, Arthor would die. That wasn’t what he wanted.

"I mean... Even around other people it's a bit risky, isn't it? I think we just shouldn't be drunk around each other in general."

That sounded dreadful, though. Arthor loved Elias, he did. He was the best friend he’d ever had, and drinking was so much fun with him. Arthor felt free then and didn’t worry about anything he said and did, though that was obviously a mistake. Still, he loved drinking with Elias. No matter the bullshit they got up to when they were under the influence of too much wine.

“I like drinking with you though,” Elias chuckled, “not being able to do that would make my life miserable.”

It reassured Arthor a bit. At least that meant that Elias wasn’t too afraid of drinking with him again. Arthor was a tad anxious that they’d end up in a bed together again, which would keep him a bit more grounded next time.

“I like drinking with you too,” Arthor laughed, “you’re so… strange when you’re drunk. I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours.”

Elias was a completely different man when he was drinking. Arthor liked Elias sober and he liked him drunk, he was a great person to be around at any time. When he was drunk, though, that was ridiculously fun. Then again, Arthor was intoxicated then too, so maybe he was blowing things out of proportion and making them a lot more interesting than they actually are.

“If it makes it any better, I have no idea myself.”

“At least you have a personality when you’re drunk, I’m just… stupid,” he mumbled and laughed.

It felt nice to finally talk to Elias about all of this. They’d never really spoken about what they got to doing when they were drunk. Now, Arthor found himself not as much embarrassed, but amused by the situations they ended up getting into. Not that he’d ever do such things when he was sober.

“Are you saying I’m not stupid when I’m drunk?”

“I mean, you are. You are a complete fool when you’re drunk. The things you talk about… Gods, Elias…” Arthor shook his head, “but at least you do something interesting. I just get weird.”

“I think you’re interesting. If you weren’t then these mistakes would have never happened.”

Arthor laughed and shrugged. He didn’t want to know why his subconscious made him so handsy when he couldn’t control himself. Arthor had been that way ever since he could remember getting truly drunk for the first time. No doubt there was something not normal about him, but right now he just found it funny.

“I’m not. All I do is touch you and call you nice things,” he mumbled and rubbed his face as a slight wave of embarrassment washed over him, "Gods, I'm unbearable when I'm drunk. You should just tie my hands behind my back if I ever get drunk again."

Now that he finally talked about these things, Arthor didn't feel as uncomfortable as he thought he would be. It almost felt nice to get it off his chest and stop overthinking it late at night. Still, Arthor couldn't help the small amount of embarrassment that still came with talking about this, but he supposed that that was expected, judging by the subject matter.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

“I like drinking with you too. You’re so… strange when you’re drunk. I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours.”

Since Arthor was laughing it felt more comfortable around them now that they both could laugh about it or chuckle about it. They had gotten some time now to get over it and think about it. Elias could only imagine how horrible it would have went if they tried talking about right after they woke up. Then he would have for sure ruined their friendship by saying something stupid.

“If it makes it any better, I have no idea myself,” he shrugged. Elias often couldn’t remember half of the things he said when he’d had too much wine. There were probably a lot of made up stories involved with crazy things he had heard from others. Some unlucky mornings, he would remember and regret a lot of the things that had come out of his mouth, but at least Arthor didn’t judge him for it.

“At least you have a personality when you’re drunk, I’m just… stupid.”

“Are you saying I’m not stupid when I’m drunk?”

“I mean, you are. You are a complete fool when you’re drunk. The things you talk about… Gods, Elias…. But at least you do something interesting. I just get weird.”

“I think you’re interesting. If you weren’t then these mistakes would have never happened,” he smiled as he watched Arthor. Both of them could be quite interesting when they drank together, and both of them could be quite weird. They were a weird mix, but that was what made it all so fun.

“I’m not. All I do is touch you and call you nice things. Gods, I'm unbearable when I'm drunk. You should just tie my hands behind my back if I ever get drunk again."

Elias shook his head. It wasn’t true what Arthor said. He wasn’t unbearable, but then again, Elias was often drunk himself when Arthor was drunk. Maybe that was why he managed to stay around Arthor. What was true though was the fact that Arthor touched Elias a lot. Even in front of others. Hopefully no one had noticed that, but Elias didn’t find that to be unbearable. That was also fun.

“I don’t find you unbearable, but I’m sure the women do.”

"You don't? You should. Oh I'm confident that you're right about that."

“Either way Arthor. Let us just forget about what happened,” Elias sighed, realizing he still felt the need to talk about what had happened between them. The easiest thing to do was just to forget about it like they had with their past experience.

"Trust me, I'm trying my best here."

“Good. It won’t happen again. I will try to have some control over myself from now on.”

"I will try as well... Honestly, just hit me if I touch you or say something dumb."

There was no way Elias would be able to hit Arthor if he said something dumb or touched him. He cared too much about his friend. Of course he could have slapped his hand away, but Elias didn’t mind the innocent things he said or did. It was more the fact that they wouldn’t kiss again or end up in his bed. That was the goal here. Other than that, Elias wanted it to be the way it always had.

Whatever else they decided to do while they were drunk was fine with him. Elias had drawn the line now, and they weren’t going to cross that again. At least that was his plan.

“I would never hit you Arthor.”

"Maybe hitting wouldn't do the trick anyways..."

“Don’t worry about it. Whatever happens, we will deal with it then. It doesn’t matter now. We have so much proof on our hands, and we need to put these things behind us and focus. I think we’ve never been this close Arthor, and I am very confident that Lady Carlys will listen to us.”

Elias didn’t feel like talking about it anymore. It would just cause them stress and worry to think or talk about it. What they needed was all the proof they could get and collect it all so they had something to present to Lady Carlys. Hopefully Arthor was ready to put it all behind him and focus on their case instead. If not then Elias would listen to his worries, though he hoped they wouldn’t end up sitting there brooding over what had happened or what could happen.

“Unless you want to keep talking about it?” Elias asked and raised a brow as their gaze met.

 

[desti]

“I don’t find you unbearable, but I’m sure the women do.”

"You don't? You should. Oh I'm confident that you're right about that."

“Either way Arthor. Let us just forget about what happened.”

That would be for the best really. They both knew that, but it was surprisingly hard to forget all of this. It’s not like Arthor thought about it very fondly, but the memories didn’t seem to leave him. All he could do was force himself to shove them away when they crept up on him. They didn’t affect how he acted towards Elias on a day to day basis, but sometimes when he remembered things, he couldn’t help but feel awkward around his friend.

It was really the same thing around Leanah. He’d be fine around her, then he’d remember something and he’d find himself feeling guilty about everything all over again. Arthor didn’t know how to fix any of this, drinking more wine certainly didn’t help. Forgetting was so much harder than it sounded.

"Trust me, I'm trying my best here."

“Good. It won’t happen again. I will try to have some control over myself from now on.”

That was, until the wine made Elias forget that he’d said that. Or perhaps it would work this time, and Arthor was underestimating Elias’ willpower. Arthor certainly knew that he himself would have a tough time not doing what he usually did. It felt so nice at the time and his drunk mind thought so fondly of Elias that he couldn’t help it. Maybe Arthor really should stay sober for the rest of his life.

"I will try as well... Honestly, just hit me if I touch you or say something dumb."

“I would never hit you Arthor.”

"Maybe hitting wouldn't do the trick anyways..."

“Don’t worry about it. Whatever happens, we will deal with it then. It doesn’t matter now. We have so much proof on our hands, and we need to put these things behind us and focus. I think we’ve never been this close Arthor, and I am very confident that Lady Carlys will listen to us.”

Arthor cleared his throat and sat up straight in his chair, nodding at Elias’ words. Talking about this made him feel better, but if it wasn’t the same for Elias then he was fine with dropping the subject. There were more important things, anyways. They shouldn’t let each other get distracted from what actually mattered - Timos’ death.

“Unless you want to keep talking about it?”

Once their gaze met, Elias raised an eyebrow and Arthor chuckled. Part of him wanted to, and part of him wanted to never speak of it again. It was all very confusing, really. Everything about the situation was confusing, though, so that was no surprise.

“No, it’s fine,” Arthor said, “you’re right, we have to focus on this. This is much more important."

“Are you sure?”

Arthor raised an eyebrow and nodded, “yes?”

“Okay, let’s gather our evidence then. I would say we could celebrate with wine after, but let us not do that.”

Arthor laughed and shook his head, “no, we’ll end up celebrating a bit more than we should.”

It was nice to laugh about it, at least. “I’ll find something you can write on,” Arthor said as he got up and searched the library. Now, the ink and the quill was easy to find. Paper… he had to get a bit creative with that, because some fucker had used all of the parchment and left none for others. Then again, that might've been him and Elias so Arthor shouldn't curse the culprit. Arthor was sure that Maester Karr wouldn’t mind losing some of the pages of his manuscript about the biography of King Bradyn II Bryne. The book was so dusty that Arthor doubted anyone would miss it.

Judging by the dozen blank pages in the book, Maester Karr was going to write more about the King’s life, but either he died before managing to do that or King Bradyn II was just awfully boring. Either way, Arthor didn’t care and ripped the pages out. The sound echoed in the library and Arthor suddenly felt bad for ruining the book, but… nobody cared about boring biographies. At the same time, they really should’ve thought about this beforehand and brought their own things with them.

“Here you go,” Arthor said with a grin as he put the parchment, the quill and the inkwell down in front of Elias, “sorry, you know how bad my handwriting is.”

The Maester they had back at home had taught Arthor to read and write. Reading came easy to him, but writing just didn’t make sense. His hand didn’t want to cooperate and his lines were always squiggly and the words he wrote were almost completely illegible. Arthor avoided writing at all costs, for the sake of the eyes of others who might have to actually read it. Thankfully, Elias was here.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Hopeless
Chapter XXXII
House Rhyne
May all be as one
Nilfgaard, Northern lands of Aedighar ​

After being honest with Darron, Rhea felt better about their situation. There seemed to be some hope for them that they would be able to raise their child together without any complication. She would have to speak to Brynden about it, and she had to make sure she asked him vaguely about it. If he had a bad reaction he couldn’t know that Rhea was actually with child and Darron was the father. He couldn’t know anything about them. Not unless he had a good reaction to Rhea’s questions.

Darron had made her very hopeful that evening. She had felt so good when he had held his hands against her belly, and his words had been so soothing. They had laid there on her bed for a while, and Rhea hadn’t wanted for him to leave. She had fallen asleep in his arms, finally feeling her mind at ease after so many days filled with worry. Darron seemed happy about it, and that had made Rhea happy too.

The day had come where Rhea would talk to Brynden though, and she was feeling nervous. Though he was a Lord, he was also her brother. Rhea almost expected him to be nice to her and understand her to the point where she could be honest with him. She had done so much for him and she felt like she deserved to make her own choices in life. Hopefully Brynden would feel the same.

As she walked towards Brynden’s tent, Darron’s words played through her mind, reassuring her that everything would be okay. No one would get hurt, and Rhea would be able to see Darron with their child.

After their night together, it had become more difficult for Rhea to get the thoughts of being a happy family with Darron out of her head. They were consuming her mind and her body filled with joy every time she thought about it. That was what they deserved, all three of them. A happy life together.

“Brynden?” Rhea asked as she lifted the curtains to his tent away so she could step inside.

Brynden stood hunched over some maps by his table, but he looked over at her with a smile on his lips, "Rhea?" It almost sounded like he was mocking her by the tone of his voice, but she just shook her head with a slight scoff as she walked over to him. “We’ve gotten far,” Rhea commented as she stood beside him, looking down at the map in front of them.

"Yes, we have. I know, I know, it's all thanks to you,” Brynden laughed as he moved his arm to pull her closer to his side, "thank you."

As she stood there she started to feel unsure about all of it. There was a strange feeling in the pits of her stomach that made her want to turn around and walk away, but she couldn’t. Rhea had to do this for Darron and their child. She let out a deep sigh, looking up at Brynden with a slight smile.

“I have been thinking,” she started, feeling a lump starting to grow in her throat as she spoke, “about marriage.”

"Marriage? That doesn't sound like something you'd worry your head over."

It looked like that was the last thing Brynden had expected to hear from Rhea, and she understood why. For so long she hadn’t been fond of the thought of having a husband and a few children, but now that had all changed because of Darron.

“I know. I’m just curious about it.”

"You don't have to think about it just yet. We can start talking about possible matches after the war."

“I just feel like I want to talk about it now. The war could last for a long time, and I’m just wondering.”

"There's nothing to talk about yet. When the time comes, I'll find you a good man, I promise."

“Do I get to say anything about it? Who I will marry?”

The conversation was starting to take a turn Rhea didn’t like. It didn’t seem like Brynden would handle the news of her being with child or being in love with Darron well by the way he spoke. Rhea felt her heart racing in her chest as the hope she had initially had was slowly fading away.

"Of course. I'm going to pick out the Lords I think would be suitable, but the end decision is going to be yours."

“I don’t like Lords.”

"Oh? As a Lord, I'm offended."

“Well, I mean, I don’t want to marry one.”

"Why not?"

“I just told you. I don’t like them.”

This for sure wasn’t going well. Brynden wanted her to marry a Lord after the war, and Darron was far from a Lord. It wasn’t true that Rhea didn’t like Lords, but she was trying to see if that was the only option for her, or if Brynden was open to other things as well. But she was starting to doubt everything. Rhea started to think about what she would tell Darron. He had been so hopeful about it.

"But why?" Brynden laughed as he poked his fingers against her which caused her to take a step to the side.

“They’re boring. Am I a boring person Brynden? I don’t deserve to walk around pleasing a Lord for the rest of my life.”

"I'll find someone interesting, someone handsome and strong. I'll make sure they match you well."

“Okay,” she mumbled. So Brynden wanted a Lord for her. That was the normal thing for a Lady like her to marry, but she didn’t want a handsome and strong Lord. She wanted Darron. Darron who was going to be the father of her child. The one who had saved her life. Now she would have to tell him about these disappointing news, and she didn’t want to. Rhea hated seeing him upset, but there was nothing they could do now.

"What is it, Rhea?"

“Nothing. I’m going to go back to my tent.”

"Rhea... I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that who you end up marrying is of great importance. It can't just be anyone."

Those were the words that killed the last little light of hope she had. It couldn’t be just anyone. That meant it couldn’t be Darron. No matter how much she wanted it, Brynden wouldn’t accept it.

“I’ll see you later Brynden,” she said with a short smile on her lips before turning to walk out of his tent.

"Goodnight."

Rhea pulled the curtain away so she could step out. All she wanted now was to get back into her tent and not talk to anyone for the rest of the night. She also wanted to cry at how helpless she felt as she walked back to her tent. There was nothing she could do anymore.

 

[desti]

Darron was trying to be serious about this, but he kept thinking blissfully about the future. The thought of marrying Rhea and raising their child was so good that he couldn’t keep his thoughts in check, though. It was so nice to daydream about all of this that Darron simply couldn’t stop himself.

Of course, the question whether or not Brynden would be on their side was still open. Darron tried not to worry about his answer, but it was hard not to. He tried to reason with himself that Lord Rhyne was a good man that loved his siblings. It was obvious to everyone, so perhaps he’d be with them. Brynden really was their only chance. Running away wasn’t an option, so they had to be direct.

Obviously, Rhea was in charge of actually settling that. Darron wouldn’t show his face until they knew that Brynden was alright with this. Neither him nor the child would be mentioned unless Brynden responded well to Rhea’s questions. Darron prayed to the Gods that he would.

Though he had initially tried to contain his anxiousness, Darron gave up on that. He went into Rhea’s tent and found it empty. That meant that she must’ve been at Brynden’s to settle this. It didn’t make him feel any better and Darron found himself pacing back and forth in the tent, with all possible results rushing through his mind. For now, Darron didn’t want to think about the worst outcomes.

Strangely, it felt both like seconds and hours until something new happened. Darron felt as though time had stopped and the world had forgotten about him. But then he heard footsteps and the soft noise of the curtain of the tent being moved. He stopped and turned around, smiling when he saw Rhea.

When Darron truly looked at her, though, his smile faded. Rhea looked upset, that was clear to see. That wasn’t good at all. That meant… no, he wouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet. Maybe it was something else. It could always be something else. Maybe Rhea just didn’t find Brynden.

“Rhea,” he whispered as he walked towards her, “did you…?”

"There's nothing we can do Darron. He wants me to marry a Lord after the war."

It all came out so fast that Darron had to take a second to really understand what she was saying. Nothing they could do… Darron frowned and looked down at his boots as he shook his head a little.

“No… no, that can’t be. There’s something we can do. Maybe I can -- or you could -- or we -- “ Darron found himself rambling about nothing specific, while his mind raced and tried to find a solution to this.

"Stop. There is nothing we can do Darron."

Darron didn’t want to accept that. He was too stubborn to do that. All Darron wanted from life was Rhea, and this child and them all together… he didn’t want that to slip out of his fingers. That was too cruel of the Gods to do.

“No, I’ll think of something. I just need time…”

"We don't have time. Brynden will never agree, and you know that."

“We have to think of something,” Darron said desperately, “I don’t want to lose you, Rhea. Not now, not ever. I can’t.”

"We can't be together. We can't have this child together. Don't you see that?"

Darron felt like the world was collapsing under his feet. This was wrong, this was all wrong, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Rhea was supposed to smile and nod, say that Brynden agreed. They would marry and he’d have a beautiful daughter with her, maybe even more children as time went on. What was happening now wasn’t right, this couldn’t be how it ended. He didn’t want to accept it.

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Just… just think of something. Anything. Please.”

Now he wasn’t even trying to hide the desperation in his voice. It broke Darron to even think about losing her when a solution seemed so near. There had to be something. They were good people, they loved each other, they’d have a child who they’d love and spoil. This couldn’t be taken away from them.

"Did you not hear what I said? Brynden told me that I couldn't marry just anyone. He wanted a Lord for me. No matter how much we try it will never work."

“Maybe he’ll change his mind,” Darron whined, “maybe… maybe I could talk to him. Explain everything…”

"Why would he listen to you? There is no way he will change his mind. If he finds out about us, he won't be happy."

“What if he is? What if he’s happy for you? For us?” Darron sighed, “he loves you, Rhea. He can’t be mad at you for falling in love, can he?”

"I am with child. This is not just some innocent romance for my brother to look past. You're delusional Darron."

Maybe he was. Maybe Darron had been wrong all along to assume that Brynden would be happy for them. But Darron had never wanted anything in his life more than this.

“I don’t want this to be the end, Rhea. It can’t be,” Darron frowned and reached to take her hand.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Darron was already standing inside her tent when Rhea stepped inside. Her body was aching for Darron to hug her and tell her it would all be okay, but she wasn’t so sure that would work this time. He had already tried that when he got her to speak to Brynden, and now that she had spoken to Brynden, Rhea saw that there was no hope for them. The only thing she could think about doing was pushing Darron away.

They couldn’t be together. Rhea would have to push him away and find a way to deal with their child. That was the only thing that would work out for them, and she hoped Darron would accept the truth.

But he didn’t and Rhea ended up feeling more upset about the whole situation as she saw Darron so desperate to make something work. She loved him, but she knew she couldn’t actually love him anymore. All she knew was that they had to give up because Brynden would never accept them being together or accept their child.

"We can't be together. We can't have this child together. Don't you see that?"

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Just… just think of something. Anything. Please.”

It felt like it would be impossible for her to make Darron understand that they didn’t have any chance here. They had nothing that would work, but he was still trying his best to think of something. It just made her want to push him away even more since talking to him wasn’t working.

"Did you not hear what I said? Brynden told me that I couldn't marry just anyone. He wanted a Lord for me. No matter how much we try it will never work."

“Maybe he’ll change his mind. Maybe… maybe I could talk to him. Explain everything…”

"Why would he listen to you? There is no way he will change his mind. If he finds out about us, he won't be happy."

“What if he is? What if he’s happy for you? For us? He loves you, Rhea. He can’t be mad at you for falling in love, can he?”

"I am with child. This is not just some innocent romance for my brother to look past. You're delusional Darron."

“I don’t want this to be the end, Rhea. It can’t be.”

Darron was reaching for her hand, but Rhea took a step back so he wouldn’t be able to reach it. The last thing she needed was to make it more difficult for herself and let him touch her. Then she wouldn’t be able to push him away, and Rhea knew she needed to.

“Don’t touch me,” Rhea said, but Darron didn’t listen. “Rhea,” he said and tried to take her hand again, but she slapped the hand away from her.

“Stop.”

With that he took a step back, and Rhea let out a silent sigh. If Darron only knew how difficult it was for her to push him away. She didn’t actually want to, but she didn’t see another way where things would work out between them. Therefore it was just easier to end things now. Rhea couldn’t even look at his face from how hurt he looked, and she let her gaze fall to her feet instead.

“We are not going to have this child together. Do you understand?” Rhea mumbled.

"But... Rhea..."

“No, we can’t do this together.”

"Please."

“You know there’s nothing we can do.”

"That can't be true."

“Tell me then. What can we do Darron? How can we be together?”

Rhea wasn’t expecting much from Darron because there was nothing for them to do. They could have ran away, but that wasn’t something she wanted. Though she felt angry with Brynden, she didn’t want to leave her two other siblings behind. They were her family. So they couldn’t run away, and they couldn’t get married. What else was there to do? Rhea just wanted to give up.

“I don’t know.

“Then stop trying! Realize that there’s nothing we can do. That we can’t love each other or love this child together. It is never going to happen Darron and you need to stop,” Rhea snapped at him.

It was crushing her to say those words to him. Rhea didn’t know how she would deal with the pain if Darron actually left, but that is what he needed to do. He needed to leave and never come back to her. Then Rhea could try to figure out what she would do with their child. There had to be some excuse she could tell Brynden that wouldn’t involve Darron. Either that or she had to find a way to get rid of it so no one would ever know about it.

 

[desti]

Rhea refused to take his hand and that somehow hurt Darron even more. He wanted to touch her and tell her that it’d all be okay, but she was so cold all of a sudden that Rhea would never let him do that. It was obvious that she was as upset by this as he was, but Rhea seemed to express her emotions a lot more differently.

Right now, this was a mess. Darron wondered if all they needed was to sleep on it and then they’d get new ideas in the morning. That sounded about right - they’d be a lot calmer then, their minds would be in their right place. Now, they were upset and angry, and desperate and that wouldn’t get them anywhere.

Still, Rhea’s attitude made Darron feel as though there wouldn’t be a tomorrow for them. It just seemed like she was ready to get rid of him now, and he feared that it wasn’t just because of Brynden’s rejection. Darron would be fine if she truly hated him, then he’d leave her alone, but he could never leave his child. That wasn’t right and he didn’t want to be a father like that.

For the child’s sake, Darron kept trying to think of something. There had to be some chance for them, but every sign pointed towards no. Darron was too stubborn and stupid to accept that, though and he desperately tried to think of anything. Rhea wanted none of it, and just kept shooting him down after every one of his sentences. Of course, that hurt, because he felt like she didn’t want to fight for them. Then again, Rhea was a lot smarter than him, so maybe she was just being realistic.

“Then stop trying! Realize that there’s nothing we can do. That we can’t love each other or love this child together. It is never going to happen Darron and you need to stop,” Rhea finally snapped.

Darron’s face fell and he looked down at his feet, as though he’d just been scolded by a parent. He wanted to apologize for being so stupid, and apologize for this ever starting. But he couldn’t, because he didn’t feel sorry for any of it. Darron loved her and the last few months with her had been the happiest of his life. He didn’t regret it, nor would he ever apologize for it.

Rhea had taught him so many things about himself, she had made him into a better man. Darron was so in love with her that it was unhealthy, really. The child… Gods, he didn’t even know them, but Darron knew that he was already in love with them as well. How could he stop?

“I can’t stop,” Darron shook his head, “I can’t lose this…”

"You have to stop. You don't have another choice."

“There has to be another choice.”

"Please, Darron. Stop trying. Stop all of this."

Darron sighed and shook his head, “I can’t. I can’t let you go.”

"I don't want to be with you Darron. I don't want to see you ever again."

That wasn’t true. That couldn’t be true. Rhea was just trying to trick him, Darron was sure of it. Just manipulate him into leaving. They just needed to calm down, that’s all.

“That’s not true, Rhea. I know it isn’t.”

"I don't love you."

Even if Rhea was lying, Darron still hurt the pain ripple through his body at her words. He frowned and shook his head, “don’t say that. I know I love you and you love me.”

"No Darron, I don't."

“You do. I know you do.”

"I will never love you Darron!" Rhea snapped at him again.

“Rhea, stop saying these things. I know they’re not true and so do you,” Darron frowned.

Rhea actually pushed Darron then and he stumbled back. He was bigger than her, but the unexpected nature of it made her seem a lot stronger than she was. "You need to get away from me and accept that I don't love you,” Rhea said.

Darron tried to tell himself that she was just upset, but her words were so harsh… he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to forget them and forgive her when everything would become better. That’s it. Everything would eventually get better, right? They just had to wait it out.

“No. I don’t believe you. We’ll calm down and talk about this in the morning, alright?”

"Don't you dare come to me in the morning. I don't want to see you."

Darron’s stubbornness had saved them both once before, and now he planned on doing that again. It didn’t matter what she said right now, Darron would fight for Rhea and him, and their child. He wouldn’t give up until they’d think of something.

“I know you’re just saying this to get me to leave, Rhea. I can leave now, but I will come back.”

"Just leave."

Rhea went to him and pushed him again and Darron stumbled towards the exit of the tent. He nodded to himself, “for now... I’m sorry, Rhea, I can’t stop loving you. It’s not that easy.”

Every part of him wanted to stay in that tent, but his feet lead him outside. Darron had a feeling that Rhea wouldn’t back down, though. This wasn’t like him sweet talking his way into staying in Rhea’s bed. Rhea just needed some time alone, and then they could talk this through again. Darron would leave her for now, but he’d always come back.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

It was breaking Rhea’s heart to do this.

Darron didn’t deserve it. He was so kind to her. Whenever she needed him, he had been there for her ready to hold her in his arms. He had told her the sweetest things, soothing her through whatever pain she might have been feeling. Now Rhea wasn’t letting him do that. If she allowed herself to be embraced by him, she would break right away. Then she would have never been able to push him away.

What they deserved was to be together. Maybe if Rhea had been truthful with Brynden, he would have understood their situation, but she had been too scared to tell him about Darron. There had been the chance that Brynden would get furious at Darron, and that was the last thing she wanted.

But Rhea could have tried. She knew she could have done one last thing in an attempt to secure their child a safe life, but now she was giving up. Giving up on Darron and the love they had for each other. Rhea tried her best at pretending she didn’t love him. Telling herself over and over again in her mind that she honestly didn’t love Darron, but she did. He was the one person she wanted to be with until the end of her days.

The more she told herself that, the easier it was to believe though. Slowly Rhea started thinking that she actually didn’t want Darron anymore, that she would never love him.

Rhea was pushing him, wanting him to leave and never come back. He needed to go and accept that they couldn’t be together, that they could never love each other or raise their child together. The Gods hated them, and what they had done was a mistake. This was the only way things would eventually get easier for them. Though the truth hurt, it was better than filling themselves with the false hope that things would work out. Maybe in the morning, Darron would understand that and finally leave Rhea alone.

“For now... I’m sorry, Rhea, I can’t stop loving you. It’s not that easy.”

Those were the last words Darron said before he left her tent. Rhea stood there staring at the empty spot where Darron had stood. For a second she wanted to run after him, tell him she didn’t mean anything she had said and that she was sorry. That they could run away and be happy together, but Rhea stood there frozen in place. Every muscle in her body ached to move, ached to do something, but all she could do was wait.

Wait for him to come back and change her mind. Just a few minutes and he would be back. Darron was stubborn; he would come back. Rhea just had to wait, and he would come walking back into her tent and hug her. Hold her body tight against his as she would promise never to leave him.

That didn’t happen.

Darron never came back, and it felt like someone was clenching their hand around her heart as she realized that. There was no doubt that she loved him. Rhea would never stop loving him, and still, she had told him that exact opposite. Guilt was starting to eat her up, making her feel like a horrible person as she walked over to her small table where she kept her books and maps. She wanted to tear them apart, ruin everything in front of her, but she just stood there looking at her belongings.

Would he ever come back to her after all the things she had said? Rhea hoped Darron would.

The slight sound of the curtains of her tent being moved immediately made her think Darron had come back. A small smile grew on her face. So he was stubborn enough not to leave her after all. “Darron, I’m sor-” Rhea didn’t finish her sentence. As she had turned around while wanting to apologize a sharp pain spread through her body. Her eyes widened at the sight of the stranger in front of her before her gaze fell at the dagger he held that was now piercing her flesh.

A gasp fell from her lips as he pulled the dagger out.

The dagger was pushed through her skin again, right between her ribs as Rhea tried to grasp onto the man, wanting to stop him, but blood was already oozing out of her wounds. She tried to scream, cry for help, but nothing came out of her mouth. Rhea couldn’t even feel the pain as the dagger was being pushed into her over and over again. Her knees felt weak as the blood drained from her body, and she fell to the ground beneath her.

It was so silent in her tent. Just the sound of the blade against her flesh and the noise of Rhea’s attempts at breathing. She couldn’t breathe. The air wasn’t reaching her lungs and instead stopped in her throat.

The ground felt so cold, or maybe it was just her body losing its warmth as her blood was staining her clothes. Rhea’s gaze grew blurry as the man pulled his dagger out of her, turning to leave her tent. She couldn’t recognize him, and he was covered by a large hood that had shadowed over his face. As he stepped out of her tent, she tried to move. She tried to roll over so she could crawl her way out, but her muscles felt weak, and Rhea could barely raise her arms.

Her skin grew pale as she rested her hand against her abdomen. She pressed her palm against her wounds, wincing at the pain. All she could think about as she laid there while her blood pooled around her body was Darron. How she wanted him to be there to hold her, but he wasn’t. Rhea had sent him away, and he wouldn’t come back.

Rhea attempted to struggle against the pain, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t move. She laid there frozen against the ground, feeling how her heart that had been pounding in her chest was now barely able to pump blood through her veins. Her body felt heavy, and her breath was shuddering. The shock was making the pain she felt bearable, but her eyes were still wide and filled with fear. She would never be able to see Darron again. She wouldn’t be able to tell her siblings how much she loved them.

Slowly her heart lost its rhythm, stopping in her chest.

 

[desti]

Yes or No.
Chapter XXXIII
House Wynver
Forwards From Beneath
Wheldrake, Crownlands of Aedighar
​

Needless to say, Ashara was on her best behaviour. Not even one step was out of place as she went through her days. In a way, it was almost nice to be proper for once and be someone the common folk could look up to. At the same time, it was horribly draining and Ashara was always exhausted when she finally came back to her bedchamber every evening.

Then, Rowan would calm her down. Everything about him reminded Ashara what she was doing this for. It was to secure their future together and in the end every smile she had to force out at some annoying crone or old man was for him. When they would leave this city behind, Ashara would have Rowan and nothing else would matter then.

When Ashara had told him, very carefully, about her conversation with father, they’d both been so happy. It was hard for Ashara not to immediately jump into his arms then, but she had to explain to Rowan that it hadn’t been a solid yes just yet. That father had just said he’d think about it, but that the fact that he’d actually consider it was very important then. Only then did Ashara let him kiss her and hug her, and be hopeful about the future.

The future. It seemed so bright now. Ashara had always worried about being married off to some nasty Lord, but with Rowan by her side she’d have nothing to fear. If her husband was bad to her, she’d go to Rowan. She’d have him with her forever, until the end of their days. Having him as her sworn shield would be almost like a marriage, really, except the vows were a bit different.

Ashara truly was surprised by father’s answer. Though he did say that he wanted her to be safe, and Rowan would be a good candidate to do that. With him, she’d be safe in every way possible. Only around Rowan did Ashara feel like she could breathe and live.

Not even a hair was out of place as Ashara went through her daily tasks. Even in the safety of her own bedchambers, Ashara kept up the act during the day. Her handmaidens were surprised at the sudden shift in her treatment of them. Ashara found that when they braided her hair, they didn’t pull on it as hard anymore, nor tighten her corset so hard it seemed her lungs might come out of her mouth.

Though Ashara was sure to not do anything wrong, she still felt anxious about father’s decision. There was nothing that would make him change his mind, right? She was so careful… but father’s mood changed so fast that Ashara started to feel doubt creep up on her. It was all too good, too perfect. Something would go wrong, and fast. She wanted to be happy, but every day it became harder to do. Yet when Rowan was around, her worries went away.

It was impossible not to be happy around him. Rowan was so kind and gentle towards her. His words always soothed her and his arms around her made her feel at home. Ashara feared losing him, but now that fear had dwindled at the opportunity they had. It was all in father’s hands, though. Perhaps Ashara shouldn’t have gotten so happy and hopeful. It could all be crushed in one instant with a harsh no.

Ashara felt dumb for letting her heart think over her head, but she couldn’t help it. Emotions had always ruled over her, but that ran in the family. The only thing she could do was not show them on the outside and try to stay proper. Ashara feared that she wouldn’t be able to contain herself if father said no, but she’d try her best. It wouldn’t matter then, as she wouldn’t have Rowan, but Ashara quite liked being on her parents’ good side.

Though Ashara was trying to be nice to them, she still hadn’t actually learnt the names of her handmaidens. It didn’t matter too much, because she always carefully avoided situations where she’d actually have to call them by name. It was much easier to just think of them by what Ashara noticed most about their appearances. Anyways, the short and busty handmaiden was helping her put on a necklace when there was a knock on the door. Ashara raised her head and watched as the handmaiden rushed to open it for her.

The last person Ashara had expected to see this early in the morning was father. Immediately, she stood up from her chair and bowed her head. Ashara couldn’t remember the last time father had visited her room, but it must’ve been a long time ago. Perhaps even years had passed since that had happened, after all they didn’t really speak that much anymore. Ashara wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

A slightly new perspective had come into Trevas’ mind after his fight with Katlyn. Usually he would feel the urge to be kind towards the two people that mattered in his life, but also it often didn’t last for long. It wasn’t in his nature to be overly kind to them. He could be proper and polite, but also strict. That was the way he felt was right for his daughters.

It was a harsh world out there waiting for them. Trevas could have babied them through their lives, and as soon as they stepped outside the castle, they would have been miserable. What he saw himself doing was preparing them, teaching them the ways of surviving the royal life he had brought them into.

One day he would be gone, and he didn’t want them to be unprepared to the point where the throne would slip through their fingers.

Katlyn didn’t understand Trevas’ perspective on the world or their life. All she saw was a horrible father and husband, and maybe he was, but he didn’t agree. It was his job to be strict and harsh with them, even if he did cross the line a few times.

Either way Katlyn’s words made him think that he should at least show them some kindness that day to strengthen his bond with them. Not that he was doing it for Katlyn, to make her proud of him or make her love him. That wasn’t what he wanted.

Trevas was doing this for himself and for his daughters. However long it lasted.

Usually he would have gotten them a new horse or a new dress that cost a lot more than their other dresses, but he figured that gifts wouldn’t be the best approach. With Ashara it was easy. All he could do was tell her about how he was accepting her request to get a sworn shield, and that sworn shield would be Sir Rowan. It didn’t matter what Katlyn thought about it. That he was their best fighter and all the other silly things that had come out of her mouth. Trevas would send Sir Rowan with her.

What he felt stranger about was talking to Elaria. Last time they had spoken to each other they had talked about if she was with child yet, which she wasn’t. Trevas was disappointed, and maybe it was Justan who was failing at doing his job, but he would try to hide that. First though he would go to Ashara.

As he stood outside the door to her bedchamber, he felt so out of his comfort zone as possible. What was he feeling so weird about? Ashara was his daughter, and he actually cared for her compared to her mother.

Trevas still hesitated as he went to knock on her door, but he found the courage to knock his knuckles against the thick wood. Soon enough one of her handmaidens opened the door. Because of the fight he’d had with Katlyn he found himself smiling to the handmaiden.

Wheldrake was filled with beautiful women, and he was allowed to look at them though he never went further. Trevas had actually stayed loyal to Katlyn through their constant fighting and lack of love.

“Ashara,” he said as his gaze drifted from the handmaiden and to his daughter, “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

"No, of course not."

Ashara then politely asked her handmaiden to leave them, and Trevas stepped further into Ashara’s bedchamber. He couldn’t actually remember the last time he had been there. When Ashara was younger, just old enough to walk and talk, Trevas had spent many of his days with her. Just like had told Katlyn though, things changed. Trevas found himself consumed by his duties as King and his family had to understand that it was important to him.

“I spoke with your mother about your request. She didn’t think it was wise of me to send Sir Rowan with you. It would be wiser to have him here,” Trevas sighed.

"Mother said that?"

“Yes, he’s one of our best fighters and I assume she thinks it is better to have him here then.”

In all honesty Trevas couldn’t care less about what Katlyn thought about sending Sir Rowan to be Ashara’s sworn shield. There were so many skilled fighters in Aedighar that could take over his place in the Kingsguard. Since he was such a good fighter he would come to great use protecting Ashara. That was the whole point of her having a sworn shield.

"Oh... so mother didn't agree?"

“No,” Trevas sighed again, shaking his head slightly, “but I will still send Sir Rowan with you Ashara. I don’t care what your mother might say. I’m doing this for you and your safety.”

 

[desti]

The longer Ashara’s father looked at her handmaiden, the more uncomfortable she got. It felt a bit strange to see him actually notice other women than her mother, but Ashara supposed that it was just the way men were. Except Rowan. He was different, because he only had eyes for Ashara.

“Ashara,” father said as his eyes finally left the handmaiden, “I hope I’m not bothering you.”

"No, of course not."

Ashara almost immediately sent away her handmaiden, the second she got the chance to do it. She didn’t like the smile father had had, and the girl shouldn’t listen in on their conversation anyways. Once she was gone, Ashara smiled at her father, turning her full attention to him.

“I spoke with your mother about your request. She didn’t think it was wise of me to send Sir Rowan with you. It would be wiser to have him here.”

That… wasn’t good. Ashara tried to keep the smile on her face, but she feared that it wasn’t working. It was hard for her to understand that mother had truly said that. If she would disagree, perhaps that would make father change his mind as well.

"Mother said that?"

“Yes, he’s one of our best fighters and I assume she thinks it is better to have him here then.”

Of course, mother’s opinion barely mattered. In the grand scheme of things, it was always up to father when it came to decisions. Ashara didn’t know if father valued mother’s opinion enough to be influenced by it. She hoped that wasn’t the case.

“Oh... so mother didn't agree?"

Ashara felt her smile fade a little. She didn’t want father to get angry with her, but she couldn’t help it. Ashara had been cautious with how happy she allowed herself to get about this, and now that all seemed to have been the right decision. If mother didn’t agree, then perhaps father wouldn’t either… she dreaded to imagine what Rowan would have to say about that. They had been so close.

Could mother truly be so cruel? If she would ruin this for her, Ashara would never be able to look her in the eyes. If it was Elaria asking… no, it wasn’t ladylike to get envious of her sister. Ashara wouldn’t do that. For some reason, during the last few days her feelings towards Elaria had softened a bit. She didn’t think much of it.

“No,” Trevas sighed again, shaking his head slightly, “but I will still send Sir Rowan with you Ashara. I don’t care what your mother might say. I’m doing this for you and your safety.”

This made her tilt her head a bit, as she processed father’s words. Mother had been against it, but father disagreed with her. Her safety was important to him, while her mother didn’t seem to care that much. The smile from before came back to her face as the reality of the situation came to her.

That was a yes. Father agreed to it. Ashara could’ve jumped and screamed from happiness, but that wasn’t an appropriate reaction. She could do that after father left. Gods, Rowan will be so happy when he’d finally get the confirmation. If at first Ashara had thought that she’d be able to control her emotions whether or not he’d say yes, now it was proven that she really couldn’t. Ashara couldn’t help the huge smile on her face.

“Thank you, father.”

For the first time in what must’ve been years, Ashara went towards her father and wrapped her arms around his middle. She felt his arms awkwardly move around her own body while her cheek pressed against his chest. It felt nice, and Ashara realized that she’d missed this for a long time.

"You're welcome,” Ashara heard him mumble.

Ashara figured that father probably didn’t enjoy this as much as she did. But she still took another second of his time to enjoy this. It reminded her of her childhood and when father was so affectionate towards her and Elaria. She was a grown woman now, so of course their relationship was a bit more distant now, but Ashara would like if there could be more moment like this between them.

“Thank you,” Ashara repeated once more as she pulled slightly away from the hug and leant up to press her lips against her father’s cheek.

Rowan and her… Ashara had to calm herself from showing even more joy in front of father. She just had to wait until he’d leave and then she could express herself truly. Tonight, Rowan would find out. Ashara’s heart was racing at the thought of spending her whole life with him.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

There was a smile on Ashara’s face as he told her that he would do as she had requested.

It made him feel weird for some reason. She looked so happy, genuinely happy. Trevas wasn’t sure how to react to her sudden happiness over his words, but he figured it was a good sign for him. At least he was doing something good for her. Like the day before though, he had trouble figuring out if he was supposed to feel something. Trevas didn’t feel much different standing there, looking at his happy daughter.

“Thank you, father.”

When Ashara went towards him to wrap her arms around him he felt shocked at first. It was the last thing he had expected to happen, and he couldn’t even recall when the last time he had actually hugged her was. Still he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her to mimic what she was doing. Trevas looked down at her as she pressed her cheek against his chest, and he felt the slightest smile tugging at his lips.

"You're welcome,” he mumbled.

“Thank you.”

Ashara repeated her words as she pulled away from the hug only to press a kiss onto his cheek. That was just as unexpected as the hug, but Trevas let his daughter show him some of her affection, though he couldn’t truly say that he enjoyed it. Maybe he could have gotten used to it, but he wasn’t really interested in attempting to do that.

“I hope this has brought you some happiness Ashara, and that I have taught you that this behavior is very well rewarded,” Trevas smiled as he took a step back.

Perhaps this was the way to reward his daughters instead of giving them actual things to own or wear. It seemed like it had worked on Ashara because she was behaving, but then again, she had started behaving after their episode in the gardens. Trevas wasn’t sure if it was his harsh discipline or what that had caused Ashara to shift her temperament and become more like a Princess.

"Yes, father. I only want to be a good daughter."

The words that he wanted to be a good father for her were at the tip of his tongue, but Trevas didn’t say it. He didn’t want to dig himself too deep into the role of being someone nicer to his daughters when he very well knew he wouldn’t be able to live up to it.

Even if he actually had wanted to, he wouldn’t have the time for it.

Trevas gave Ashara a quick nod then, raising his hand to rest on her shoulder to stroke her arm gently before he turned towards the door. Everything that had just happened he didn’t want to experience again for a long time. For some reason it felt almost draining for him to show a little bit of kindness, but now he had done his good deed.

“Have a good day Ashara,” he said as he stopped by the door to face her.

"You too."

After another slight smile, he didn’t waste any more time staying there. He had another daughter he needed to speak to as well. Trevas wondered if Katlyn would hear of this and if she would mention anything to him about it. If she tried to, he would quickly shut her down because he didn’t want to hear her opinion about anything anymore. He didn’t want to speak to her really.

Trevas hadn’t said a word to her after their fight, and he wasn’t planning to either.

If she was happy about what he was doing, then she could be happy. Trevas was still not doing it for her. Slowly he made his way down the hallways of the castle towards Elaria and Justan’s room. One thing he had to remember was to speak to Lord Baldor about Justan.

Something was clearly wrong since Elaria wasn’t with child yet. Either they were tricking them or Justan was just unable to give her a child. Trevas knew those things could take time, but he also remembered it didn’t take him and Katlyn long before she had given him Elaria. They had been quite eager though, and he knew that Elaria wasn’t so happy about the marriage to Justan.

Maybe one day when she was able to understand politics and the importance of alliances, he would speak to her about why Justan was a lot better than Timos.

For now he would just check up on her, ask her about her days and maybe he would give her a hug too just like Ashara had given him one. Though he highly doubted it, Trevas wanted to try to make things a little easier for them that day.

Again he found himself knocking his knuckles against another door and just like he had with Ashara he spoke to Elaria, who seemed a little surprised to see him there and how he did not want to speak about any children or marriage related things.

 

[desti]

Gone.
Chapter XXXIII
House Rhyne
May all be as one
Nilfgaard, Northern lands of Aedighar
​

The conversation with Rhea had been confusing, to say the least. Brynden had never thought that his sister would care much for marriage, and he knew it’d be tough to bring it up when the time came. Never in his life had he thought that Rhea would be the one to start a conversation about it. Everything about it had seemed off, though.

Rhea had gotten so upset at his words, which in turn made Brynden feel guilty. He hadn’t meant to upset her. Obviously, the fact that Rhea couldn’t choose her husband herself could be seen as bad, but Brynden promised her that he’d find her someone good. A King couldn’t be just any man Rhea would point her finger at. The decision had to be carefully planned out, for both their own good and the whole of Aedighar.

Brynden knew that he would pick her potential husbands with utmost care. First and foremost, he wanted his sister to be happy. He wouldn’t chose someone boring, he’d pick someone fun and exciting, because Brynden knew that Rhea would be upset if she’d have a dull husband. Brynden wouldn’t just pick any Lord that would offer him riches or an army, no he’d think further than that.

For now though, they had bigger problems than Rhea’s marriage. The war was only starting, and Brynden was anticipating that King Trevas would soon learn of their advances. He figured that the second they’d cross the North-East border, they should already think about themselves as in plain sight of the King. Part of Brynden feared the moment this would finally go down, but at the same time he was ready for it.

They’d spend weeks, months thinking about all of this and they’d be ready. Fighting against the combined armies of the West and the Crown wouldn’t be easy, but the Northerners were fierce warriors. They’d be up to any task that would be set in front of them. From what Brynden had seen, the Easterners weren’t that bad either. They would be incredibly useful in battle, no doubt about it.

There was no shame in admitting that he was afraid. Brynden would be a fool if he wasn’t. Too many nights Brynden laid awake and more often than not indulged in less than appropriate activities with some of the women at camp. It was a good distraction and it helped him let out his frustrations and not get too impulsive when it came to plans. Brynden could only imagine that he’d need those girls more than ever after the battles started. Nothing made a man’s blood quite as hot as fighting.

Brynden didn’t know if they were going to win this war. They had quite a good chance, really, but he didn’t dare to be hopeful. The Crown and the West had a bigger quantity of fighters, their equipment was likely better and Brynden feared which experienced commanders King Trevas would choose to lead his men into battle. Brynden had chosen himself, Lord Raknor and Lord Aeron as the commanders of his army. He was the least experienced of them three, but Brynden hoped that he’d be enough.

If they’d lose… Willelm would be right and Brynden would lose the North and kill his own House. At the same time, Brynden didn’t want them to live under Wynver rule anymore. It wasn’t the right way and Brynden would rather die than bend the knee. It was selfish, but his father had done the same thing.

With the battles coming closer and closer, Brynden requested them to have meetings as often as possible. Perhaps it was unnecessary, but Brynden wanted them to be prepared. There was nothing wrong with these discussions. They were serious things and it would do them good to talk about them so much. Perhaps they’d actually remember everything then.

The moment Brynden rose that morning after a rather sleepless night, he immediately headed to the morning’s meeting. They’d known yesterday that they should be ready when the sun rose to meet him in the tent they held their meetings in. Usually, nobody would forget, so Brynden didn’t bother telling some poor guard to run around camp and tell everyone to get their asses to the meeting.

When Brynden arrived, he was pleasantly surprised that almost everyone was there. Rhea, Sir Darron and Lord Aeron were missing. The latter showed up a few minutes after Brynden, though, but the minutes ticked by and there were no signs of the knight or his sister. He wasn’t worried too much about Sir Darron, because his presence wasn’t that required in this, but Rhea’s absence was a bit strange.

They couldn’t wait for too long, they all had other things to tend to during the day. Brynden sighed and stopped pacing around the tent and headed out again, informing everyone else to wait. Outside, he grabbed the first person he saw.

“Antra,” Brynden said as he caught her arm while she was walking past the tent, “go fetch your sister, will you? Tell her she’s missing the meeting.”

Always kind and polite, Antra nodded her head and walked off in the direction of Rhea’s tent. Brynden watched her disappear from sight before entering the tent again and moving back to his place next to Willelm. It wasn’t like Rhea to oversleep, and Brynden wondered if it was because of last night. Again, he felt guilty for upsetting her… but what was he supposed to do? Pretend that she could be careless, before telling her last minute that he had other plans? That would be even worse.

There was polite chatter in the tent, which Brynden tried to focus on, but more and more the sounds outside started to take away his focus. Before, the morning calm was obvious, but now… something was changing. Brynden could hear shouting, and something that sounded an awful lot like a scream....

The others in the tent must’ve heard as well, as their mouths stopped moving and they raised their heads in confusion. Brynden frowned and exited the tent, the immediate area around it was completely empty. It was strange, as it had been so full of life just a few moments ago when he’d went to grab Antra. Something wasn’t right, Brynden could feel it and it seemed everyone else did as well.

The next thing Brynden saw was Antra running. Her pretty dress was suddenly dirty and her hands were clasped over her mouth. It was more confusing than anything. Still, Brynden quickly closed the distance between them and caught her in his arms.

“Hey… hey…” he whispered, stroking her hair as he listened to her sobs.

Brynden turned his head back to look at Willelm as he tried to calm down the girl in his arms from whatever had upset her so much. Antra was sobbing and shaking, and clinging onto him as though she were drowning, and it frightened him to even think about what had caused this reaction. He had asked her to go find Rhea, perhaps something had happened on the way. Antra was so sensitive, perhaps she’d seen something not meant for her eyes or heard something not meant for her ears.

As they stood, a whole crowd of men slowly started to come from the same direction Antra had ran from. It seemed the whole forest around them had quieted down. They all were pale and watching Brynden in a way that made him incredibly uncomfortable. It was pity and sadness, and something else that he couldn’t place. When one of the men came forwards, pale and avoiding his Lord’s eyes, Brynden didn’t even have to listen to his shaky words to know that it was all over.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

For the last few months, Willelm had found himself with very little to do. He would always be present at meeting with Brynden unless he had gotten other orders. Whatever he was told to do, he would. In the beginning, he had still been skeptical about the whole war and their march. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Rhea, Brynden or Lord Aeron. Willelm was just worried that something horrible would happen to them.

There was a lot on the table that they were risking, but Willelm had in the end decided to support his brother like he always did. No matter how badly they could fight some days, he always stood by his side through everything.

Now there was also something for Willelm to look forward to. He would become the Lord of Stormwind after the war. Living in the east, so far from home, sounded like something that would bother him, but he had actually grown very fond of the plan. Many months ago, he would have lost his head over it. Willelm couldn’t see himself as a Lord. It seemed like a tough responsibility, but he looked up to Brynden and hoped he would do as good of a job as his brother did with his people.

The march had let him get a whole new perspective of his siblings, and though there wasn’t much time for him to joke around with them, he had seen grown closer to them in a way he hadn’t expected.

Usually in Nilfgaard, Willelm would just spend his days on a horse trying to hunt animals that would give him some good furs to sleep on or wear. During their march he was more involved with Brynden and the other Lords, listening to their conversations and coming with his own opinions when he felt he had good ones. Though most of the time he just stayed silent.

It was another morning and another meeting waiting for Willelm as he woke up. They were getting closer to the East now, and he imagined they would talk more in depth about what their plan would be as soon as they met up with the rest of Lord Aeron’s men.

Willelm had given Brynden a quick smile once he had entered the tent and now they would have to wait for Rhea. At first he didn’t think much of her absence. Maybe she was finally taking a few extra minutes to get ready or sleeping in for once. Willelm would have loved to sleep for a little longer, but he had gotten used to the early mornings and very late nights.

While they waited he was so deep into the polite conversation that he had with Lord Aeron that he didn’t notice the eerie silence from outside. It wasn’t until the air filled with shouting and screams that Willelm looked up at Brynden with confusion. His brother was the first one to exit the tent, but Willelm followed him, walking behind him as he looked around for something that could have caused the sudden shift in the atmosphere at their camp.

The sight of Antra running towards them caused him to knit his eyebrows together in confusion.

He just watched as Brynden caught Antra in his arms and gave him a strange look as Brynden turned to look at him. There was nothing about this that made sense. What could have scared Antra so badly? Willelm grew curious, but he didn’t say anything to Antra as some men were making their way up to them.

They looked distressed and frightened, just like Antra did. Though Antra was shaking in Brynden’s arms, clearly more disturbed than the man who stepped closer to them. The words that came from his lips made Willelm feel like he has lost his ability to breathe. It couldn’t be true. There was no way. Willelm’s lips parted as he wanted to ask the man if he thought he was being funny, but then he looked over at Antra.

It would explain her reaction. If it was true that Rhea was dead then Antra would have been as upset as she was now, but he couldn’t believe it.

Willelm let his gaze drift from Antra and up to Brynden. It didn’t make sense to him why Rhea would be dead. He had seen her yesterday and everything had looked okay. To think that she was dead now didn’t seem to process through his mind. Willelm thought she would come walking out her tent any second now and this was all some sick joke, but it never happened. He was left standing there confused and shocked at the news.

“What happened?” Willelm asked, looking over at the man in front of them. It didn’t look like he wanted to answer that question, but he took a deep breath before he opened his mouth, “she has been stabbed. Multiple times. This was not an accident…” Before he could finish the rest of his sentence, Willelm spoke again, “murder?”

That couldn’t be right. Rhea had never done a bad thing in her life, or at least she hadn’t done anything that would cause someone to want to kill her. Nothing about it made sense to Willelm. Why would someone want to murder Rhea? “I don’t believe it,” Willelm said as he started walking towards her tent. He pushed through the small crowd, stopping right in front of her tent.

A bad feeling spread through his body as he lifted the curtain and stepped inside.

But everything the man had said was true. There Rhea laid so pale against the ground, blood had stained her clothes and pooled around her body. Her eyes were still open, lips slightly parted. Willem could feel his whole body breaking at the sight, wanting to cry and scream at the same time. This was what he had feared. That something horrible would happen, and his fears had become a reality right in front of his eyes.

His sister was gone and it was because someone had decided to end her life.

 

[desti]

Dead? Gone? It couldn’t be. There must be some sort of mistake. It couldn’t be true - Rhea was his little sister, how could she be dead? No, Brynden thought about her sweet laugh and didn’t want to accept that he’d never hear it again. There was a mistake, surely.

Yet it couldn’t be as though everyone in the crowd was wrong. They wouldn’t approach their Lord with such grave news if they weren’t true… Brynden focused on Antra’s trembling frame in his arms as he tried to control himself. Willelm spoke then, but Brynden didn’t listen. He picked up on stray words here and there, and he felt the rage building up inside of him.

His little sister had been brutally murdered. Gods, if Antra had seen… Brynden squeezed her and clenched his jaw as he watched Willelm disappear into the crowd. Part of him wanted to go with him, to see it with his own eyes… but Brynden feared that then that would be all he could remember of Rhea. Her body on the ground, waxy and cold. That’s not what he wanted. Eventually, though, Brynden thought he would have to see her.

If she was gone, Gods that was a cruel, horrible thought to think of, but if she was truly gone then Brynden wanted to think of her fondly. Remember her as the girl she had been, think of all the times he’d laughed with her, or she’d hit him when she got mad… Brynden thought about that all and that’s what he wanted to do, not think about her corpse. But Gods, those thoughts crept up on him.

Whoever did this would pay dearly. Brynden would rip them apart with his own bare hands. Though Antra calmed him down for now, Brynden knew that once he’d have to face the harsh reality, he’d be uncontrollable. After all, he started a full blown rebellion after father’s murder. Nobody could say that he was very capable of handling his emotions well.

“Antra… Antra you have to let go of me, love,” Brynden whispered.

The fates of their parents had shaken Antra up enough already, Brynden feared what the loss of her sister would do. Willelm… Gods, Brynden hoped that he wouldn’t lose it. He had been against the war, fearing for their safety and now his fears had come to life.

But Brynden couldn’t be a brother now. He had to be a Lord and make the right judgement of what to do. That wasn’t possible with Antra clinging onto him. Brynden watched Antra unwrap her arms from around his middle and hang her head as she rushed off again. He wanted to go after her, but there was no time for that. Later on, Brynden would find her again with Willelm and they’d talk about this.

As siblings, they’d always been close. It was the Northern way, just like the words of their house said. Brynden had thought that his siblings were safe, he thought that no harm would come to them in this, but he had been a fool. This was war. Anyone could die, and Brynden was stupid for not leaving them all at Nilfgaard. But as he thought about it more, they weren’t safe anywhere.

Brynden looked around at everyone as he felt their eyes dig into him. Willelm wasn’t there anymore, neither was Antra. He would’ve needed their comforting gazes now, but now he’d just have to do without them. Brynden took a breath and tried to put on the Lord’s mask that he’d so carefully shaped over the months.

“Rosby,” he said loudly as his eyes scanned the crowd.

A tall, older man with wide shoulders and arms like hams stepped forwards. He had come with them from Nilfgaard, as a big supporter for Brynden’s cause. Because Brynden had known him for years now as a loyal man to House Rhyne, he didn’t think that there’d be anyone else more suitable to lead a fraction of his men back home.

“Elmar,” he spoke to the man directly, “I ask of you to gather a dozen men, or as many as you might need, and make sure that my sister gets home.”

Brynden wanted to be the one to do it, but he didn’t have time. The least he could do for Rhea was make sure that the bastards that did this to her would pay a great price. When the war was done, Brynden would beg her forgiveness to the statue that would ultimately be made of her down in Nilfgaard’s crypts.

“Of course, my Lord,” Elmar Rosby nodded, “when do we leave?”

“As soon as possible,” Brynden said.

“Of course,” Rosby repeated quietly and Brynden thought that his eyes were strangely glimmering in the sun.

“And to the rest of you,” Brynden raised his voice again as he turned his attention to the crowd around him, “I ask of you to tell me this instant if you know anything. Trust me, if you know something and don’t tell me, you will suffer just as greatly as the culprit.”

Elmar Rosby disappeared back into the crowd. Nobody came forwards. Brynden shouted at them to get back to their duties. While the crowd slowly disappeared in small whispering groups, a woman stayed behind. Brynden didn’t recognize her as someone from Nilfgaard, but enough whores had joined them on the way that a new face wasn’t surprising.

“M’lord,” she said quietly as she approached him, “I saw a man that night.”

“What?” Brynden frowned and looked at her.

“A man. He went out of your sister’s tent,” her voice was so quiet and unsteady that it sounded as though she feared that the man would come and murder her in cold blood as well, “I was just leaving the tent of… one of your men, and I saw him.”

“Did you recognize him?” Brynden immediately asked, turning his full focus on the girl. She seemed trustworthy enough. What reason would she have to lie?

“Not by name, no. I -- forgive me, m’lord, but… it was Lord Faerson’s man, I am sure of it,” she said so quietly that Brynden had to lean in to hear her, “that knight he has around him so often.”

 

[scoorpiuuss]

There were many thoughts that rushed through Willelm’s mind as he stood there. The world around him had seemed to stop. If anyone had tried to speak to him, he hadn’t heard it. He was too focused on sight in front of him. Someone could have rushed into Rhea’s tent and yelled at him, and Willelm would not have moved from where he stood.

For all he knew the ground around him could have been lit on fire and burned them all alive, and he didn’t know if he would even notice from how frozen his body felt.

Rhea had deserved to live her life, a peaceful life with her family by her side. Instead she had gone through a gruesome and lonely death. Whoever had done this to her had wanted to spark outrage. Anyone could see that. Willelm only wished that whoever had done it would be dealt with.

With careful steps, he walked closer to her body. What caused Willelm to feel horrible was the fact that she had been alone. No one had been there with her, and they were a family. They were supposed to protect her and be there for her.

All over again he felt the pain that had filled him once their father had been killed. To think that Rhea was also gone now, crushed him.

Willelm leaned down, crouching next to her body. He guided her arm to rest against her chest, feeling how uncomfortably cold she was. Then he moved his hand to her face where he gently stroked his fingers down her eyelids to close her eyes. Just as he did it, someone else stepped into the tent, and Willelm glanced up at him. It wasn’t Brynden, but one of his men and he figured it was time for him to get out of Rhea’s tent.

If he could, he would have stayed there for longer just to mourn her and see her, no matter how disturbing the sight was. But Willelm rose from the ground and looked down at Rhea one last time before he walked out of her tent. As he stepped out some more men entered her tent.

It was so unreal that this had happened right in front of their noses. That they had all thought they were safe at camp and that nothing could harm them. They were still far away from the South, and they had done such a good job at hiding themselves by taking Rhea’s route.

The last thing Willelm needed now was to worry about who or what had done this to Rhea, or when it had happened. He needed his family, and as soon as he spotted Brynden, he walked towards his brother. It looked like he was busy talking to some woman, but Willelm didn’t care who she was or what they were talking about.

It was at times like these Willelm wished his brother wasn’t a Lord. Brynden had such a massive responsibility for everyone at the camp, but Willelm wanted him to be his brother now and not a Lord.

Willelm respected his brother though and took a step back to keep some distance as Brynden was talking to his men, saying stuff that Willelm didn’t really process. Whatever it was that had happened didn’t matter to him right now. What he needed was a hug or something that would make that aching feeling in his body disappear.

Maybe it hadn’t been smart of him to go see Rhea, but though the sight would maybe haunt his thoughts, Willelm wanted to see her. No matter how much he was regretting it now.

After some time, it seemed like Brynden had finished talking to his men.

They were still silent as they stood there alone and Willelm didn’t know what to say to his brother now that he had the chance. But Brynden broke the silence between them as he quietly asked him a question, "did you see her?"

“She’s gone,” Willem managed to say as his voice cracked, “Rhea’s dead. Gods, I…” He couldn’t even finish his sentence as he stood there feeling his hands nervously shaking. It was so unfair and cruel that something so horrible had happened to Rhea.

Willelm hadn’t actually expected he would cry, but when Brynden pulled him into a hug, he wasn’t able to hold anything back. His hands wrapped around his brother as he tightly held onto him. A quiet sob fell from his lips as he hugged him.

Usually Willelm would have run away from conflicts. He would have gotten on a horse to get some privacy to let his thoughts out, but now he felt the need to be around his family.

They were missing Antra, but Willelm would make sure to hug his sister until she could feel comforted as well. If they were going to get through this, he couldn’t just run off. He needed to be there for his brother and sister, and he also needed them to be there for him. Family mattered so much to him and losing Rhea was going to leave him feeling broken for many nights.

“I didn’t want to believe it. Fuck,” Willelm cursed.

Brynden stayed quiet, and Willelm kept the silence between them going as he held his hands around his brother. It was still difficult to process and think that it was real, but at least the feeling of hugging Brynden was bringing him some comfort.

It was better than what he would have felt like if he had decided to try to run away from the pain.

 

[desti]

Sir Darron? Brynden thought to himself if it even made sense. The relationship between Darron and Rhea had been tense, that was for sure. Brynden had joked a few times that they’d murder each other, but that was all that had been - a stupid joke. Darron was a prick, he was, but he would never murder Rhea. Then again, Brynden knew almost nothing about the knight.

Annoying, utterly unbearable to be around and absolutely headache inducing, yes. But murderer didn’t quite fit the bill, not really. Brynden tried to think rationally about it, but at the same time… this girl said that she saw him leave Rhea’s tent. What could he have been doing there if not something sinister? Maybe the man had finally snapped… or maybe there was something wrong with this all.

Brynden didn’t think much about it, though. He felt the rage boiling his blood and he wouldn’t be able to sleep, knowing that nobody was taken as prisoner for the murder. If Darron was innocent, they’d find out soon enough. If he wasn’t, Brynden would kill him himself. Part of him wanted to find Darron right now and rip him apart, but Brynden tried to understand that he might be innocent. Rhea had been so innocent as well…

“Find Sir Darron Netley,” Brynden said to some guards nearby, “throw him somewhere, I don’t care. I’ll want to talk to him later tonight. Guard him, make sure he doesn’t leave.”

The guards turned around and Brynden quickly added, “and tell Lord Aeron that I am deeply sorry for taking one of his men captive. Tell him no harm will come to him unless it is necessary.”

As the guards left, the Lord’s mask fell from Brynden’s face. One of the first things Brynden had done after finding out about father’s death was break some poor fucker’s nose for no reason. He had just been standing there at the wrong time and Brynden hadn’t been able to hold the anger in any longer. Now, the only person around him was Willelm and breaking his nose would do neither of them any good.

Brynden remembered that Willelm had gone away for some time. He must’ve went to look at Rhea himself. Brynden understood now that he himself didn’t have the courage to do the same. He couldn’t look at her corpse and not blame himself for not making sure the camp was safe. Why weren’t there guards in front of her tent? Brynden had been foolish to not have her tent be guarded all hours of the day.

“Did you see her?”

The words came out of his mouth before Brynden could stop them. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know how bad it was, and he hoped that Willelm wouldn’t go into detail. The fact that Rhea was taken from them was already a fact that was hard to understand, Brynden didn’t want to think about just how horrible her last moments on this earth must’ve been like.

“She’s gone,” Willem answered, “Rhea’s dead. Gods, I…”

Hearing Willelm’s voice crack made Brynden turn around and pull his brother into a hug. He couldn’t save Rhea, but he could protect the rest of his siblings. Brynden would let them cry on his shoulder if they’d need to, hug them for hours and stay up with them so they wouldn’t be plagued by nightmares. It was the least he could do for fucking up this bad. He only hoped they didn’t hate him.

A quiet sob came from Willelm as the boy held onto him. Brynden felt much older than his thirty years then. He felt like an old man, burdened by the weight of the world on top of him. He didn’t mind being the one who comforted everyone, that had been Brynden’s duty ever since he became an older brother when Willelm was born. At the same time, Brynden wished that he could feel comfortable letting his own emotions out. He wasn’t good at that, though, that’s why he expressed it through anger, not tears.

Brynden wanted his mother, and he wanted her to stroke his hair and tell him that it’d all be alright. Or perhaps his father, have him pull Brynden into a tight, bone-crushing hug like he used to. But they weren’t an option. Brynden would be there for his siblings, but nobody would be there for him. Of course, Willelm and Antra would likely try to comfort him as well, but Brynden would always turn it around so he would take care of them instead. They shouldn’t worry about him, he didn’t want to burden them with that.

Truly, he didn’t know how he’d get through this. It had already broken Brynden to know about what had happened to his parents. The fate of Rhea… Gods, he had no idea how to cope with it. Perhaps with time he’d learn, but now…

“I didn’t want to believe it. Fuck.”

Brynden didn’t know what to say to that. There was nothing he could say, really. The world around him was collapsing, and he only hoped that he could somehow make sure that Willelm and Antra would get through this. If Brynden himself would forever grieve Rhea, then so be it. But his siblings would have to learn how to move on, and he’d help them in any way possible.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Goodbyes
Chapter XXXIV
House Hastwyck
Sow knowledge, reap wisdom
Santrella, Southern lands of Aedighar ​

On top of the protestors that walked in the streets of Santrella, a lot had happened inside the castle. Leanah had mostly kept to her room after what had happened in the hallway, but after a long talk with her mother, she had found herself consumed by other thoughts.

It had been difficult to hear about Timos again. She hadn’t expected she would have to talk about his death with her mother ever again, but they had, and Leanah had been shocked by what her mother, Elias and Arthor considered to be the truth.

Leanah had grieved over her brother’s death for a long time, and she thought she had finally found some peace and gotten over the horrible sight until her mother had brought it up again. Timos’ death was far from as innocent as she had initially thought.

The cause had always been because of the sickness he’d had since he was a child. Leanah had believed it, and she assumed her mother had believed it too until Elias and Arthor had come up with their evidence against that. It seemed a little far-fetched that it had actually been a poison that killed him, but once she had heard all the words her mother had to say it had slowly started to convince her that it was, in fact, someone that had murdered him.

Those old feelings she had buried away washed over her once again. She felt anger towards the Crown, and a little angry with herself that she hadn’t been able to see it. For a few minutes Leanah had even been angry with Elias and Arthor for not telling her sooner, but she had come to understand that they needed solid proof and that she would have just been angrier if they had told her while it was still just an assumption.

Leanah was more thankful that they had been fighting so much for Timos. That they still remembered him and thought about him. She had felt so alone grieving about him, and it brought her comfort that they had been willing to do this sort of work for her brother.

Then a raven from the North had come to them, and it had been about a week since Leanah had found out about the truth when Elias had to leave them. She didn’t know much about the details other than that he was going to help the Northerners. In the end Leanah didn’t have much to say or do with that type of information. It was her mother’s job, and often Leanah would stay out of it.

Supporting the Northerners didn’t seem foolish to her. After what the King had done to Timos it felt like it was the right decision. Leanah wanted them off the throne, but she didn’t have the power to do so.

They had all gathered in the courtyard where Elias’ horse stood ready to be mounted. Leanah didn’t really talk much to Elias other than their polite chatter, he was mostly around her mother or Arthor. She still cared about him, and it would be sad to see him leave the South.

Elias walked over to her with a smiled tugging at his lips. When he stopped in front of her, Leanah wrapped her arms around him to give him a hug. “Be careful, and take care of yourself,” she said. She could only imagine how dangerous and exhausting it would be to travel from Santrella and up to the North. The furthest she had ever traveled was to Wheldrake.

Leanah pulled away from the short hug, and her gaze followed him as he walked over to Arthor. He wrapped his arms around Arthor, pulling him into a tight hug. They were good friends that she knew. She would always see them sit together during certain events, and they would always look so happy. Now Elias looked sad. He was holding onto his friend almost like he didn’t want to leave.

It felt weird that he was going away mostly because Leanah would have never thought they would be supporting the Northerners.

Never would she had thought that the Crown was behind the murder of Timos either, but the last week had been filled with many strange things for her to think about. Leanah didn’t know whether she should have been happy that they had managed to figure it out or be sad over her poor brother that had gotten his life taken away from him in such a horrible way.

Timos deserved to be avenged. Everyone deserved to know the truth.

Still only their closest knew about it. There was no need to spark more outrage in the streets than there already was. Though most of the protestors had calmed down, and their castle was now more heavily guarded; there were still people causing some trouble in the streets.

Hopefully Elias would get out of Santrella safely.

Elias pulled away from Arthor, still smiling, but it looked more forced now. She still watched as he rested his hand against Arthor’s shoulder before he went to mess up his hair a little bit with his fingers. Then Elias moved from Arthor and over to her mother. She didn’t hear what they were talking about, mostly because she found herself lost in her mind about what would happen next. What would the Crown do? How would people react if they found out about the truth? Leanah had so many questions she knew she wouldn’t get answered now.

 

[desti]

Telling Lady Carlys was just about as frightening as Arthor imagined. It was nerve wrecking and it made him anxious for the days that lead up to it. He wasn’t afraid that they were wrong, Arthor was sure that everything was right. Elias was too smart to mess up this badly. Arthor was only afraid of the reaction they’d get from Lady Carlys.

Surprisingly, she was almost calm. After they ended their monologue, Lady Carlys had sat still for a while, taking in the information apparently. When she talked, Arthor had a feeling as though Lady Carlys had considered this theory before. It had been rather easy to convince her of the possibility that it was true. No doubt that a trial would happen soon, knowing just how dedicated Lady Carlys was.

Finally, they’d get answers. Arthor knew that the Crown would deny it, no doubt about that. But the Gods would be just and Timos would finally be able to rest easy. Elias would finally stop obsessing over the poor boy’s death and Arthor wouldn’t have to read another book for the rest of his life.

After their confession of what they’d been up to for the past moons, Lady Carlys admitted that she herself had a few secrets. Behind all of their backs, she had quietly made an alliance between the South and the North. So far, nothing concrete had happened, but Lady Carlys had assured Lord Brynden Rhyne that she’d help him in any way he’d need her to.

The news that a war was definitely going on shocked Arthor initially. Of course, it was expected. Everyone was whispering about the Great Northern Rebellion, but nobody actually thought that it was going on. Arthor was surprised that it hadn’t come to light earlier. How had they evaded the King’s spies for so long? It couldn’t have been easy to move their armies undetected.

Arthor feared that war would ruin Aedighar. With winter coming, the lands would starve and be ruined. It was a terrifying thought and Arthor knew that many would die in the coming months. So many cities would be ruined and burnt down, men would fight and die for reasons unbeknownst to them, women would be raped and children would be slaughtered. Arthor would be glad when the Wynvers would be beat, but war was never good.

Lady Carlys had thanked them for their hard work, and informed them that the Crown would pay for its crimes. Arthor had been happy then, and for a week everything was well. As well as could be, considering the situation they were in, of course. Arthor feared how the trial could turn out, but he was sure that they would win. They had to!

The one thing Arthor didn’t expect was what came afterwards. It was a week or so when Elias caught him in the hallway during the early morning hours, and told him about what had happened. The Northerners needed a war strategist, and Lady Carlys had offered them Elias. Initially, Arthor didn’t really understand what was going on. It wasn’t until Elias started saying how much he’d miss him, did Arthor get it.

Ever since they’d met, Arthor couldn’t remember them ever being apart from each other. Every person would be lucky to have a friend like Elias, and Arthor wouldn’t trade him for anything. They grew up together, rarely did a day pass that they didn’t talk at least once. The two friends were so close that Arthor hadn’t even considered the possibility of actually losing Elias.

Now, the man was being taken away into the heat of battle. There was nothing Arthor could do about it. Arthor’s thoughts about the matter, his fears and worries, didn’t matter. He tried to remind himself that this was for a good cause and that Elias would help Lord Rhyne beat King Trevas. At the same time, Arthor would’ve rather suffered under King Trevas’ rule than risk losing his best friend.

Part of him hoped that perhaps it was a silly joke that Elias had thought of. But when everyone gathered to see Elias and a bit under a dozen men leave Santrella, the reality of it all hit Arthor. He felt vulnerable and weak as he stood there, watching Elias. Arthor couldn’t help but remember everything that they had gone through together, and he wondered if they’d ever see each other again.

Perhaps, Arthor shouldve thought of some good words for his goodbye to Elias. But when the man came over to him, Arthor’s throat felt dry and he couldn’t get a single word past his lips. Elias pulled him into a tight hug and Arthor closed his eyes so that he could remember everything properly, just in case this was the last time. When they pulled apart, it felt like it had been too short and Arthor would’ve liked to stand there with Elias for a bit longer.

Instead, Elias smiled strangely and touched his shoulder, before reaching up to mess up his hair just a little. In any other situation, Arthor might’ve cursed him and laughed about Elias touching his hair, but now he almost felt like crying. He stared at his friend, trying to remember every detail about him as his paranoia about his safety grew more and more. Elias moved away and Arthor hung his head, staring at his boots. There were too many people around now, the thought of getting so emotional in front of Elias, Leanah and Lady Carlys sounded horrible.

Arthor didn’t listen to any words that were said, nor did he look up when he heard Elias’ footsteps retreating. Perhaps he should've watched him leave, maybe said something last minute, but Arthor didn't dare to look up at his friend again. Arthor closed his eyes and took a breath, and he hoped that Elias would come back one day, when all was over.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Leanah’s gaze followed Elias as he walked over to his horse to mount it. They didn’t know how long he’d be gone for, or if they would ever see him again. She tried to stay positive and looked forward to seeing Elias again whenever he returned to Santrella. For now they would just have to wish him a safe journey, and that he wouldn’t get hurt in the battles ahead.

As Elias and the men rode out of the castle, Leanah turned to look at Arthor who looked very upset about Elias leaving. It was easy to understand his sadness since she knew how good friends they were, and she felt sorry for Arthor that he had to go through this. Leanah didn’t want him to go through it alone.

Arthor had been such a good friend to her and taken care of her through all her bad days, always listening to her worries. After what had happened in the hallway he had laid there with her all through the night to comfort her, and she would have done the same for him if he needed her. No matter how long she would have to make sure he was ok, she would be there. That was what he deserved.

When her mother turned to leave, Leanah walked to stand in front of Arthor. Since they were in the courtyard she was hesitant, but they were friends, and friends were allowed to comfort each other during tough times. She reached down to take his hand in hers, gently stroking her thumb over his knuckles.

“Are you ok?” She asked as lifted her hand to rest under his chin so she could lift his face up.

Even if she had tried to meet his gaze, Arthor was avoiding hers. It made her wonder how upset he actually was about this. Leanah had seen him upset once before, but then he had stumbled into her bedchamber heavily influenced by wine. Maybe he wanted to avoid thinking about Elias, but Leanah wanted to make sure he was ok.

"I'll be fine,” he said quietly.

“Arthor…”

Leanah pulled her hands back only to wrap her arms around him so she could pull him into a hug. “Are you sure?” She whispered as she as she stood on her toes to reach up to hug her cheek against his. Her hands stroked along his back in an attempt to comfort him. As she hugged him she tried to imagine what it would have been like if she had to see Arthor leave and not knowing if he would come back.

If that would have happened she would have felt broken and cried.

Arthor didn’t answer her question.

Instead he wrapped his arms around her as well and hugged her back, and Leanah held him tightly against her body. If he needed her to stand there for the rest of the evening with him, she would. One of her hands stroked up along his back, resting against his neck as she gently scraped her nails across his skin. Leanah wanted him to be happy or at least feel comforted as they stood there.

Leanah pulled away from the hug and she tried to meet Arthor’s gaze again.

"Don't worry about me."

“Of course I worry about you Arthor.”

"I'll be fine, Leanah."

“I just want you to feel ok. We can go inside and talk about it if you want to?”

Arthor gave her a slight nod to that. It was better for them if they went inside where they could have a little more privacy. Maybe Arthor would open up a little more to her then and talk about how he really felt about Elias leaving. Leanah would either way listen to everything he had to say or comfort him if he didn’t feel like saying anything. As long as she could make sure he wasn’t alone she would feel at ease with it.

Leanah walked beside him as they left the courtyard.

They could go to her bedchamber and that was where Leanah lead Arthor. It was where they would be secured the most privacy. Then Arthor didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him or hearing him if he wanted to let out his emotions to her.

While they walked through the castle and towards her bedchamber, Leanah stayed silent. She would glance up at Arthor every so often to check on him, but she figured it was better to wait until they were inside her bedchamber to start asking questions again. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable. It gave her some time to think about what she could say to comfort him without giving him false hope.

Though she wanted Elias to come back without any scratches, Leanah couldn’t promise that would happen. They would just have to wait and see, and hopefully Elias would send ravens to keep them informed on how he was doing. That way they wouldn’t have to worry too much.

 

[desti]

What would Arthor do without Elias? Nobody said for how long he’d be away for. Nobody knew for how long the war would last. It hadn’t even began yet, not really, so how would they know? Arthor hoped that the Northerners knew what they were doing, but they were fighting against the joint forces of the Crown and the West. The sheer amount of soldiers was frightening to think about.

The more Arthor thought about it, the worse he felt. He realized there was a big chance that Elias wouldn’t come back. That his friend would die after an ambush, or, hells, during the long trip up North. Elias was so good, so kind and smart, he couldn’t die. Arthor couldn’t handle that.

While his mind raced with thoughts he didn’t wish to have, the people around him slowly started going back into the castle. It was all over, Elias was gone now. Arthor clenched his jaw and stared at his boots as he tried to think happier thoughts. Elias would come back one day, tell him all about the adventures that he’d had up North… or perhaps he wouldn’t, and one day they’d receive a raven about his death.

A soft hand touched his and pulled him out of those thoughts. Arthor didn’t dare to look at Leanah, but he spoke quietly to her as she asked him questions. Of course he wasn’t okay, which she must’ve realized, but Arthor was too embarrassed to say otherwise. First and foremost, he was Leanah’s guard. Weakness wasn’t exactly something he should show.

Now, if he was drunk on wine, then he might’ve cried on her shoulder. Again. Arthor remembered that night and it still made him feel more awkward than anything else that had happened in Leanah’s chambers. It was rare for Arthor to really be so vulnerable around anyone, and looking back he hated every second of it and wondered if Leanah’s thoughts about him had changed that day.

Even so, Arthor did want and need comfort right now. He knew very well that Leanah shouldn’t be the one giving it to him, but he couldn’t help it. She was his Lady, but Leanah was also his friend and they looked out for each other. Arthor knew her well enough to say that she wouldn’t be able to just leave him alone right now. She was too kind and caring.

When Leanah wrapped her arms around him, Arthor hesitantly returned the hug. They were outside, the thought of someone seeing made him feel a bit uneasy. At the same time, they were friends and there was nothing wrong with what they were doing. Nobody should think much of it.

It made him feel somewhat better. Still, the loss of Elias pained him, but Arthor was glad that he’d at least still have Leanah. She wouldn’t be able to replace his friend, but Leanah would help him get through this. At least, that’s what Arthor hoped.

"Don't worry about me,” Arthor said, feeling rather guilty for making Leanah feel bad.

“Of course I worry about you Arthor.”

"I'll be fine, Leanah,” Arthor said, not believing it and doubting that Leanah would either.

“I just want you to feel ok. We can go inside and talk about it if you want to?”

Every part of Arthor knew that that would be wrong and that he would feel guilty and awkward, but at the same time he needed this. There was nobody else in the castle that could calm him down except Leanah. She was his only chance if he wanted to keep living like he used to, not succumb to the loss of his friend. Arthor found himself nodding slightly.

They walked next to each other, but Leanah was leading them anyway. They would go wherever she would see fit, and Arthor would follow. That’s how it had always been and how it’d always be.

Arthor gave her a slight nod to that. It was better for them if they went inside where they could have a little more privacy. Maybe Arthor would open up a little more to her then and talk about how he really felt about Elias leaving. Leanah would either way listen to everything he had to say or comfort him if he didn’t feel like saying anything. As long as she could make sure he wasn’t alone she would feel at ease with it.

Soon, Arthor realized where they were headed. Leanah’s bedchamber. It didn’t seem appropriate, and Arthor would’ve stopped if he wasn’t deep in thought about Elias. At the time, it didn’t seem like a bad thought to just talk with Leanah and figure out how to carry on. He didn’t want to get too emotional about it, but Arthor wasn’t a great liar, nor was he good at controlling his emotions when they washed over him.

Still, Arthor found himself hesitant at actually entering the bedroom. It felt strangely intimate and like something that he shouldn’t do. But Leanah took his hand and lead him further into the room, making them both sit down on the edge of the bed. Arthor stared at the wall opposite him, but felt Leanah’s gaze on him. For some reason, he just couldn’t turn his head to look at her.

"Talk to me Arthor."

“I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled.

In the privacy of Leanah’s room, it felt impossible to control himself. Arthor brought his hands up to rub his eyes as he found his vision to be awfully blurry all of a sudden. He shook his head and sighed, “it’s stupid… I shouldn’t be so upset about it.”

 

[scoorpiuuss]

They entered her room and Leanah took Arthor’s hand to guide him over to her bed. If it was making him feel uncomfortable, she hoped he would say something. The last thing she wanted was to startle him, but though Arthor seemed to be hesitant, he sat down on the edge of the bed with her.

They had shared many memories and mistakes here, but Leanah felt like it was the best place to comfort him though there were glimpses of their past rushing into her mind.

"Talk to me Arthor,” she urged him as she tried to meet his gaze. Arthor was starting at the wall and Leanah understood that he must have been very upset since he didn’t want to look at her.

“I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled.

Leanah kept her hands in her lap as she watched him rub his eyes. Was he crying? She wasn’t sure, but he looked so broken over seeing Elias leaving that he could have been crying. If he was crying, she wouldn’t look at him any different or feel different about it. Arthor needed to know that he could feel comfortable being emotional around her.

“It’s stupid… I shouldn’t be so upset about it.”

“It’s not stupid. He is your friend and I think we all are worried about him, but I’m here for you,” Leanah reassured him. Perhaps it would take her days to get a smile from Arthor and see some happiness in his eyes, but she would try her best.

"Thank you."

With slow movements, she moved her hand from her lap and over to his hand. Leanah traced her fingers along the lines in the palm of his hand, feeling how rough his skin felt against her soft fingertips. It felt strange. Usually Leanah would hug him, not actually give him sweet gentle touches, but it was different now that Arthor needed comfort. Though a hug could have been enough she wished for him to feel at ease.

“Don’t be afraid if you need to cry.”

Leanah looked up at him as she scooted a little closer to him so her thigh was pressed against his.

"I don't need to cry."

There was a slight chuckle that sounded way too forced and awkward for Leanah to believe what Arthor was saying. Hesitantly she laced their fingers together, giving his hand a tight squeeze as she laid her other hand over his shoulder. Without accusing him of lying, she let his hand go so she could use both her arms to pull him closer to her and into a hug.

Even if Arthor wasn’t hugging her back she kept her hands around him, stroking against his back. He nuzzled closer to her neck until she could feel his warm breath against her skin. “It’s going to be okay Arthor,” she whispered, but there was no answer. It pained her to see him so upset. It wasn’t what she was used to when it came to Arthor. The first time it had happened had been a little easier for her to handle because of the wine.

Now she was very unsure and hesitant.

Leanah pulled away from the hug then. There was a slight urge to take his face in her hands and force him to look at her. She wanted to give him a sweet smile and kind words about how it would all be okay, but she was so hesitant. How would Arthor react? There was the chance he would run out of her bedchamber, scared to show any emotion and Leanah didn’t want that.

Arthor wiped his fingers over his eyes, and Leanah reached to take one of his hands holding it with both of hers.

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok?” She asked as she held onto his hand so tightly.

"I don't know."

Though she hadn’t dared earlier, Leanah kept her left hand still holding onto his hand as her right hand went to rest against his cheek. “Look at me.” She wanted to see him to truly feel like she was talking to him, that her words were helping him and not disappearing in his mind. Arthor lifted his gaze then, slowly meeting hers.

There was so much sadness in his eyes that even if she wanted to smile she couldn’t. All Leanah could do was stroke her thumb over his cheekbone. A gentle touch that reminded her of so much she had tried to forget.

Leanah didn’t know what to feel when she sat there.

A part of her felt happy that she was able to touch him so sweetly, but she also felt sad that he felt so upset about Elias. It had been tough for her too these last few nights thinking about her brother and the true cause of his death. How they hadn’t seen the signs sooner and pulled Timos away when he still was alive. Maybe he would have still been there with them now, walking through the hallways of the castle with her.

Her poor brother who had been looking forward to spending the rest of his life with the woman he loved only to get poisoned and killed on his special day.

“It’s going to be okay.” Leanah was repeating herself, but what else could she tell him. It would be okay. Even if Elias would never come back, she would make sure to be there by Arthor’s side to comfort him through the pain and sorrow. In the end it would be okay. No matter the outcome she would try to get him through it.