Fantasy The Elven Queen - [closed]

[Owl Knight]

- THE ELVEN QUEEN -
From the Annals of Aleric the Healer
​

"Healer," the towering elf warrior approached Aleric quickly, his white horse camping at the steel bit in its teeth. "My Lady requests thy presence in her palanquin, make haste." The elf eyed the young healer sternly, his silver eyes flashing with a touch of suspicion and a healthy dose of contempt. With a flurry of his pale gray cloak he turned his courser and spurred it back towards the head of the caravan.

Aleric watched the elf go without comment. He had grown accustomed to such treatment on this trick. With the exception of Sarian, the Queen's steward, and the Queen herself, the elves who had joined the caravan at the palace of silver stars had uneasy feelings about a human traveling in their midst despite the Queen's blessing and the King's uneasy acquiescence to the arrangement.

Aleric paid it little heed. He was willing to bear the suspicious looks and harsh words for the honor of his position in the caravan. He was to be the first member of the healing college to observe the birth of an Elf first hand!

He spurred his hearty hill pony forward, the shaggy creature's able legs propelling it up the winding trail towards the queen's grand palanquin.

They were passing through the spiral mountains, great blue slopes rising in staggering spires towards the azure sky. Behind the queens wagon, twelve elfish warriors and a wagon of her attendant maids stretched some yards back down the wide dirt road that wound its way through the tall sweet grass.

The queens palanquin itself was an elegant affair: an airy white and silver coach drawn by a pair of milk white forest stags as big as packhorses, it's open sides curtained with gauzy fabric allowed the queen to long on soft cushions within and observe the verdant trail.

Aleric dismounted beside the palanquin, tied his pony to a hitch on the side of the cart and gingerly climbed aboard.

"Your majesty," he said softly as he seated himself across from the queen. "You sent for me?"

 

[Melpomene]

The whispering of the wind against silk was as soft as the sigh of a babe. The land itself had reached a certain quiet that seemed to be unattainable before this very moment. A silent excitement seemed to reverberate in the very bosoms of every soul that walked the beaten, yet overgrown path. The wildflowers that grew along the edge had caused a sweet scent to be taken into the gentle hands of the air. It had cooled considerably. The lands of Nerendine had proven to be forever warm, just as the water was always sweet and the sun shined upon every elf that walked beneath it with a warmth that could be comparable to that of the hearth on a day filled with snow and ice.

A lilting voice carried a song upon the wind. Soft and sweet, the elvish words mixed with the rustle of the trees as they winded through the mountain. A tale of an elven maid and her lover. Alone and frolicking through the forest, never meaning to find one another, yet the moon itself had shone its approval down upon their love, holding them steady in its ever-encompassing grip as they danced beneath the stars, free of care and distraction, only knowing one another. Their sweet voices had intermingled in the night. Their soft touch had elicited a love too pure to be shaken.

'He's as pure as our love.' Danulil had murmured as his hands cupped her swollen abdomen, his face a mask of worry and discontent. He had not been able to meet her eyes, even as she had touched her fingers to his cheek and pressed her lips against his own in her silent reassurance. The thick sense of tension still reverberated through the air, his shoulders tense to the touch and his brow, seeming to wrinkle against all odds. But he did not stop her as she pulled from him, a hand on her stomach and another clutching at her heart in her silent sign of love before she stepped to the palanquin. 'If anything should befall her, or our son, then I should think your heads would look best upon a spike.' His eyes had turned towards their little human healer at that point, distrusting, but never lingering, knowing well that if his wife willed it, then it would be. And Erianna would not take her word back, a word which promised a human to see the miracle of an elven birth.

Her eyes fluttered open as she looked through the silken fabric, watching it waver in the wind as the blue peaks of the mountains swept for the heavens. It was said that they were made from the body of a collapsed giant, the last one in existence that had not wished to live without his brethren, so instead let immortality take him, falling into eternity through becoming a rock which could never be moved, which would stand strong through the years until he woke and walked again. The spires did not reach nearly as high as the mountains of the North, but they painted a picture so pretty, their spires darkening at the tip and then disappearing into the gentle white clouds, unable to be seen any longer, there, forever there. A solid reminder, one that Erianna wished to hold, to grip and know that she herself was going to be held steady and strong.

I cannot live on if you do not return to me. If you or the boy don't return to me. I can't live on.

She lifted her green gaze as the gauzy coverings of the palanquin parted. A soft smile touched her lips as Aleric slipped in. A hand slipped over her swollen abdomen once again as she shifted to sit up straighter, a sharp ache coming to her back as she did. The ride was smooth, luckily, but she still cradled her stomach protectively.

"Aleric," she greeted with a nod. "I know you to be a healer? I thought during times such as these, it would be best that we have as many healers about us as possible. It is not good to take chances during times such as these," she sighed and winced at her back's pain again. "But I do have to ask... Do you know of something that would relax tension in the back? Mine has been aching terribly on this ride. I will not hold it against you if you have no ready but--" the sweet smile spread wider across her lips. "I would most appreciate it, if you have it."

A sudden stop, however, made her lean in confusion. It was nowhere close to nightfall, so they had no reason to come to rest.

"We have reached a block in the road, your Majesty." A guard said, his head bowed as he glanced into the palanquin, eyes lingering upon Aleric but soon letting them drop again. "We only need to find a way to move it and we will be on our way once again."

"That's strange..." Erianna said as she leaned out to look, but was met with a hand on her shoulder.

"I ask her Majesty to stay in the palanquin. We will take care of the problem ourselves, please, do not worry yourself."

Erianna pulled her lips to the side but leaned back in before turning back to Aleric.

"Well then," she said shoving a sigh from her lips. "What about that cure for the aches then?"

 

[Owl Knight]

Aleric leaned out of the palanquin, pushing aside the gauze curtain to gaze up the narrow road. The pathway cut through a narrow pass where the craggy hills loped up steeply on either side. An old oak had fallen across the road, landing in the gap between two mossy boulders. Something forceful, a strong wind or a large creature like a great bear or a mountain troll, had ripped the old tree up by the roots. The pathway was effectively blocked by the ancient trunk. Two of the Queen's guard had dismounted and stood, leaning upon their longspears and discussing in inaudible tones the best way to proceed. Two riders had been called from the rear of the caravan to assist in clearing the way.

A few of the Queen's attendant maidens leaned out from the windows of their carriage, following close behind the Queen's palanquin to see what had caused the delay. They chattered to one another in the lilting clyrical tongue of the elves, pointing up the road to the obstruction with pale, delicate fingers.

The Queen's driver, Almulin, a dark haired elf with a pointed beard, leaned back into the palanquin.

"The guard are going to try to clear the way, my lady. It shouldn't delay us more than an hour or two."

Riders from the head of the caravan rode the length of the procession, informing the travelers that they should take the time to rest and eat while a collection of guards worked on clearing the way. A few of the handmaidens dismounted from the wagon, their bare feet padding gently in the tall grass as they stretched and tittered about the journey.

Aleric pulled his leather healer's satchel into his lap, opening the flap to peruse the flasks, bottles and parchment packets within. His mind scrambled back to what little he knew of Elven physiology. The class and study he had done at the college on the subject had been scant, the elves being historically secretive with their technologies and practices. Indeed, he was amazed that the King and Queen had accepted the college's request to allow a healer into one of their most sacred and secretive rituals. His nimble fingers unearthed a packet of dried gemweed, a bank growing herb with glistening silver petals that had known properties as a muscle relaxant.

"Mirulin," he called to one of the handmaid's who had tarried near to the cart. She was a slender girl, raven haired and willowy. Her eyes danced merrily as she approached. The handmaidens always giggled when the young healer tried to pronounce their names in his northman's brogue. "Can you fetch a pitcher of fresh water from the wagon for her majesty?" The girl nodded with a demure smile and drifted back to the wagon. Returning with the water in hand. Aleric crushed a pair of the gemweed leaves between his fingers and sprinkled the fine dust into the water where it glittered like miniscule diamonds and gave off a pungent fragrance.

"Drink this," he offered. Pouring the water into a silver goblet. "It should ease your muscles." As the Queen took the fragrant elixer he eyed her belly, heavy on her slender elven frame. "This is a long journey," he commented. "Do all elves make such a pilgrimage so close to their child's arrival?" Up ahead he could hear the raised voice of the guards as they began tieing off limbs of the tree in an attempt to move it from the road.

 

[Melpomene]

Erianna's fingers were curled, pressed tightly into her knees and clenching at the silken material that draped across her lap. A strange tug had managed to worm its way into her chest. Nerves. It was what most would call it. An expecting mother walking along a path, outside the safety of her home. It was simply nerves that had managed to overcome her. Perhaps it was the want to feel the soft grass beneath her bare toes, knowing what the feel of the dew drops on the grass felt. She leaned back so that her head could rest against the back wall of the palanquin, eyes falling closed as she attempted to calm herself. Worrying would not be good for the child, stress on her mind or body would just make everything all the harder.

But there had not been a storm in the recent days. Nothing that could have caused a fall. A tree had collapsed, but there was nothing to make it do such. A tree so large either had to have been rotting from the inside or had been cut before they had come. Erianna cringed as she felt her mind move too quickly once again, but she simply let out a soft sigh, knowing that she was growing too restless again. It had begun even before she had first felt the princeling begin to grow and stir within her womb.

Dark elves kept them wrapped in constant worry. Their shadow had stained the maps since the moment she had stepped into Danulil's arms a century ago. Their presence had nearly ruined the wedding they had so carefully cultivated. The arrows that had rained had sent them into panic. Their horrible snarls had been what caused her to shiver for many a night within her wedding bed.

"Thank you," she said soon after, shaking the thoughts of dark elves from her head. It had been assured by Danulil that the dark elves had been kept back and safely locked back into their own land, locking in their borders, unable to get to them. But even if he had not, she would still be sent off to this pilgrimage, it was needed. She brought the cup up to her lips and tilted it up, smelling the sweet aroma before letting the liquid slip on to her tongue. She let out a soft sigh as she let if fall back to her lap, waiting for it to begin its work while she shifted again on her seat, ignoring the ungodly need to stand and stretch out those sore muscles.

"Oh, this? Yes," she murmured as she turned to look between the gauzy fabric. "You see, elves are not like humans when it comes to our children. We live as immortals, unlike you humans, but when it comes to children..." a soft chuckle escaped her throat as she shook her head.

"You see, you humans are able to breed like rabbits, but we elves, well, having a child is a very important event for us. Especially when it is a pretty little princeling like this one." She carefully ran her fingers over her belly again. "Where we're going, my husband was born there centuries ago. For an elf, especially one of royal status, to not go without a good reason is more than just bad, it is quite taboo."

A shuffling outside took her attention. She tilted her head to peek out before a guard blocked her vision, they stepped closer to the palanquin, standing erect and watchful.

"Enrond?" she asked as her brows raised.

"There is nothing to worry over, your Majesty. But we wish to ensure that nothing should befall you, there is an... anomally that we wish to further investigate before going on."

A soft frown turned on her lips, she leaned further out the palanquin in time to see the first arrow fly through the air.

 

[Owl Knight]

The first black feathered barb caught Enrond in the throat. It whistled from the treeline, hissing like a viper as it found its mark. The elf's head snapped back as the arrow struck, its raven feather fletching quivering angrily. Enrond recovered for a moment, his gauntleted hand wavering up towards the foreign shaft which emerged stiffly from the hollow just above his leather jerkin. He struggled, coughed up a mouthful of deep crimson blood and grasped at the arrow. He took a step, faltered, sinking to his knees and at last crumbling face down into the earth. As he fell, the force of his body thrust the arrow through the back of his jerkin, revealing an unmistakable barbed arrowhead, soaked in the elf warrior's blood.

Before anyone could react a second, third, and fourth arrow burst from the treeline. The first found its mark in the breast of an auburn haired handmaided as she whirled to see what had happened to Enrond. She was dead before her body fell to the road. The second found the leg of a horse which threw its rider and bucked wildly, raising a pained cry. The elf scrambled to recover in the dirt before yet another arrow struck him through the eye. He screamed and rose, scrambling for help until yet another arrow snuffed him out.

The remaining guardians scrambled towards the palanquin and handmaids' wagon as a second volley set up, accompanied by a fearsome warcry. Arrows thudded hatefully into the sides of the wagon as the maidens threw themselves to the floor, wailing in fear. From where he sat in the palanquin, Aleric could see Mirulin throwing herself to the dirt and scrambling under the wagon to take meager cover behind the wheels, her pale blue eyes wide with terror.

The Queensguard who had not fallen to the first assault rallied around the wagons, Captain Urisiel, who had been at the head of the road overseeing the clearing of the tree ran towards the wagons shouting orders to form a shield wall around the Queen. He had only drawn his sword halfway when the bolt which ended his two centuries of life found its mark in a gap in the side of his armor. As he raised his arm the arrow pierced deep, skewering his heart.

Aleric faltered as he watched the chaos ensue. Within moments he had watched the life vanish from the eyes of four of their traveling party. As Captain Urisiel crashed to the earth he felt his senses return with a jolt. He threw himself towards the Queen.

"Take cover, m'lady!" he gasped, wrapping his arms around her head as he pulled her down to the carpeted floor of the palanquin. He covered her as best he could as he listened to the cries of pain and fear rising from outside, punctuated by the fearful hiss and thunk of arrows striking earth, wood, leather, and flesh. Among the anguished cries of the high elves he began to hear other voices, harsh and cold, barking orders in what he recognized as the ancient tongue of the elves.

 

[Melpomene]

Everything had flown its peaceful stillness too quickly. Everything devolved as arrows rained down upon them, harbingers of doom in their swiftness. Blood spilled upon the ground, staining the stone and grass a deep crimson. The only thing heard were the shrieks of the scared and the groans and choking coughs as the unlucky ones attempted to breathe around their own blood. A battlefield being made out of nothing more than a caravan. By the time everything began to make sense, folding fully into the mind of the Elven Queen, she felt herself being dragged from the seat by the healer, her body stiff as she turned her back to the place where the arrows rained from so that she could cover her belly.

'Aedia lyrusni gr'ratra!'

Her body stiffened as she twisted beneath the grip of Aleric. It was only a brief moment that she had managed to see above his arm. Wide eyes could hardly focus as the darkly clad figures began to glide around the camp. Screams of maidens pierced her ears from the side, but stuck under Aleric's grip, she could not manage to see what they suffered, only the cracking and breaking of wood, metal striking hard against metal as the stench of fire filled the air. She held in her cough, squeezing her mouth closed as though that silence was all that kept them from her.

'Nevil! Tryna'stra!' Marsial cried as he bounded from the ground, tearing the arrow from his shoulder as he charged a dark figure, his sword was held high, the silver catching the light of the sun and fire. His sword crashed upon the dark blade of the dark elf. His movements were sloppy and his strike weak, yet he fought on, never allowing failure to touch his bosom until his golden armor was gripped with an unceremonious touch and he was tossed to the side, left to roll upon the dewy grass and there he stayed. Erianna leaned, tightening her hold upon Aleric's waist as she tried to see his state of health, but jumped as a hand clamped hard upon her shoulder.

'Gr'ratra!' the guard pushed out, his mouth bloodied but his grip true as he tugged upon the fabric of her dress, skewing it upon her shoulder. His fingers were warm, a liquid seemed to seep through her silks as he yanked her harshly from the hold of Aleric and out of the palanquin. She had nearly begun to follow him when his throat suddenly parted and red stained his front. He coughed, blood spraying across her face as he fell to the side, eyes lulling back. Then dark eyes peered back at her as the black leather clad elf peered in, yanking at the gauze so that it tore from the palanquin and leaned in, a sharp gaze holding on to her shivering form. Erianna covered her belly with her arms as she twisted away.

'G'ratra nali sal! Nali sal!' he called. They all would come running, she knew that well. They had known where she was before he had said a word. She yanked herself hard from Aleric's hold before she felt more hands yank at her, pulling her roughly from the palanquin. Without any thought, she winded herself up, preparing herself before her elbow slammed into the nose of the elf behind her. He let out a shout and stumbled as she slipped back to the floor of the palanquin, her dress in disarray as she arched her back to keep herself from rolling on to her stomach. For the first time, she cursed her pregnancy. Only because without the baby growing in her womb, she would know how to fight them herself.

"Aleric!" she managed to gasp out, forcing away her thoughts of elven tongue. "They--"

It did not matter what she had to say, as she felt the loop of another arm just under her breasts and a hand held firm to her arm, keeping it from being used as a weapon again. As they yanked, pulling the gauze in their attempt to tie her limbs, she let out a sharp grown, knowing well all was going to Hell and she did not know how to fix it.

 

[Owl Knight]

Elves, dark eyed and fearsome, their long tresses braided with ornate clasps of some mercurial metal, their eyes cold and hard, gathered in a throng around the palanquin, their fingers clutching hook bladed swords, their pointed ears and noses pierced with many rings, their lithe forms swathed in dark leather and cloaks of crimson.

A flaming shot had set fire to the wagon and the billowing smoke rose, choking the air. Those Handmaids who had not flown from the wagon no doubt had found their doom in the smoke and blaze within. Mirulin lay in the dirt, her eyes squeezed shut, her dark hair splayed across her pale shoulders where her white gown had torn amid the chaos.

"Asa, nahai!" barked one of the dark elves as they struggled to pull the pregnant queen from the cart. Aleric fought to catch ahold of her, reaching out to clasp at the sinewy arms which wrapped around her and the steely fingers which dug like cruel spears into her soft flesh.

"Let go," he coughed, choked with smoke. One of the elves raised his short blade with a sneer and brought the heavy pommel down on the healer's crown with a decisive thud. Aleric wheeled, dazed by the blow, collapsing over the edge of the palanquin as he felt consciousness slipping away.

His world became a thing of shadows and strange muted noises. He was dimly aware of cruel hands gripping him and he felt as though he were being lifted up and carried through smoke and fire. His awareness coming and going, he saw in flashes the faces of the slain. Anguished Elven visages staring up at him with dead eyes from the dirt.

He could hear the invaders engaging in some kind of heated conversation and, as he felt himself laid on a hard surface his blurred vision caught a glimpse of two dark clad figures waving their arms, gesturing and gesticulating angrily as they spat at each other, their mouths bastardizing the lilting elvish language into a thing harsh and venemous.

More bodies were laid beside him, although in his dazed state, the healer could not tell who, although he noted with peculiar clarity the scent of lavender which had adorned the handmaids' wagon. There was a loud metallic clank as though a door swung shut and the drawing of a heavy bolt and Aleric felt his last shred of consciousness slipping away, even as the ground moved away beneath him and he faded into the dark.

 

[Melpomene]

Screams seemed to be all the sound that could fill the air. The screams of fear. Of battle. Of carnage.

Tears and sweat stung Erianna's eyes as harsh hands yanked at her, their only mercy seeming to be that they were careful of her stomach, never grabbing at her abdomen or forcing her to put any pressure on it. But in no other way did they offer a gentle touch. Their pale and bony fingers dug deep into the soft flesh of her shoulders and arms, marking the pale skin there without remorse. They yanked at her, ensuring she did not fall over on her stomach, but letting her stumble as rocks cut at her feet and ankles all the while. Screaming in elven was all around her, she realized soon after she had begun moaning out a prayer to Nlinih for the sparing of her child.

Then an elf approached her, his dark armor seeming to suck in every bit of light. Even the sun's rays seemed to have become useless with the way it managed to not even glimmer. His gaunt face was tilted down towards her, an emotionless expression that she could hardly bear to watch as his fingers sank deep into her scalp and he yanked her to face him, pale green eyes meeting black. Then his thin lips pulled into a cruel smile as he looked up and waved with his other hand for all to begin to gather around.

It was not a thought that had caused her to spit upon his face, but a pure feeling of rage and hatred that had suddenly broken through the fear and shock.

"I am the Queen!" she said through gritted teeth as she glared back at him. "Do you wish to know what happens to men that harm the Elven Queen of Nerendine? My husband has put you in your place before--"

Her head snapped to the side at the harsh blow. Blood swam over her tongue as tears pricked her eyes once again and she vaguely saw the elf motion towards the cart. The hands dragged her away, yanking and pulling as she heard the soft cries of her handmaidens. A gasp escaped her lips as she was shoved into the wagon and then it locked solidly before she could think of attempting to get out. Her hand slipped to her face as she attempted to force back the panic that had driven up into her heart and throat.

Memories of the Battle of Blavonen came back to her mind, though it was centuries ago now. But she opened her eyes again and turned to her bruised handmaidens, and then to the unconscious healer. Her legs barely moved, but she managed to get to him, attempting to examine his head to ensure that it was nothing that was permanent. Though it then struck her that they took him, they didn't kill him. They thought they needed him. Her handmaidens. She felt a sudden sick feeling come to her but did not dare let herself vomit now.

Her hand went to her belly nervously, then she looked up again and called to her handmaidens, telling her orders, pointing for them to try to a spot that was weak, any spot.

But it was elven made. And elves did not take half-measures, every inch made to stand against any type of damage. The wheels kept spinning and they kept moving. To where? Erianna was not sure, only that there would be more dark elves once they reached it. Her hands had searched nearly every inch of the cart before she was forced to sit and cradle her belly again. The sun had begun to set, making away for the silver moon to rise. Stars began to glimmer against the velvet black night sky. She shivered underneath it, the air beginning to grow cold as the night was set on them. That was when she felt things come to a stop. She crawled forward, placing her ear against the door, listening as they began to speak again, her fingers curled against the wood and her lips turned in a sneer.

If it wasn't their stop, they were close to it.

She gritted her teeth. Because the fight was not over yet, and she could hear as they prepared to open the wagon again, they would have to. She only hoped the healer and her handmaidens were ready for it.

"Niri!" she called to a waifish young elf, her blonde hair in disarray as she looked up, wide-eyed. Erianna pointed to Aleric. "Make sure he won't be getting dizzy when we get to moving about, he must have gotten damage to the head. The rest of you... charge when they open the doors, it may give us time. "

"We are no warriors, m'lady," Pilla said quietly, her auburn lashes lowered so much, Erianna nearly could not see her irises,

"Well, you have to be now. Get ready, we're not letting them take us easy."

 

[Owl Knight]

The healer drifted in and out of consciousness as the afternoon faded to night, the heavy prison wagon beneath him jostling along the road as it bore him and his fellow captives far from the sight of the carnage where a dozen brave warriors had breathed their last immortal breaths. It would be some hours before he was awake enough to question why he had been allowed to survive when so many had fallen to the dark elf attack, although the answer would become clear in time. In his clearest moments he could hear the hushed tones of the queen, speaking to someone in elvish, but in his disabled state, he could make out less than the usual meager scraps he was able to discern. The elf language was almost impossible for human's to fully grasp when they hadn't had their skulls stoved in.

At one point he made a feeble attempt to lift his head and see who else was in the peuliar rumbling little room, but his vision swam and his heavy eyes once again slid shut, banishing him to the darkness and fitful dreams of fire, smoke, and crimson blood.

By the time he awoke again, night had fallen.

His eyes fluttered open slowly in the darkness of the wagon, his forehead throbbing and hot. Even a small movement sent a dull wave of pain through his skull. It was pitch black save for the scant starlight which shone down on him through windows. Against the light, he could see Erianna's slender face silhouetted. She was kneeling near him, leaning over his prostrate form protectively, but her eyes were fixed on the door of what he now took to be some kind of prison wagon. Roving his eyes around he could barely make out three more faces, Mirulin, her face shrouded from the light by her thick raven tresses. To her left, Niri, and Pilla. He had seen both struggling to free themselves from the hands of their captors before the elf who struck him had rendered him dead to the world. All four elf women sat stock still, their faces towards the door and keen ears and eyes taking in the muffled sounds of cold voices and approaching boots in what sounded like gravel or dirt.

Aleric shivered, the air had grown cold and even his short traveling robe and scarf did little to keep away the chill. He pitied the Queen and her attendants, facing such a chill in the gossamer gowns of summer travelers. Unless he had slept for a month, the carts must have borne the prisoners high high into one of the spiral mountains.

"My lady," he coughed, his throat had gone dry and his tongue clove thickly to the roof of his mouth. "Are you alright...?" his question was cut off. Almost as soon as he spoke, a heavy bolt of iron was drawn and the wagon flooded with firelight as the door swung violently open, revealing a collection of shadowy figures, silhouetted by the light of a roaring bonfire.

The dark elves who had opened the doors lunged into the wagon, their fingers grasping at the handmaids the healer and the Elven Queen.

 

[Melpomene]

The pain and bruises were forgotten, as was the cold when the healer finally began to speak again. A soft sigh of relief escaped Erianna's lips as she let her eyes briefly graze over him. It was enough to know that the blow had not rendered him too injured. The dark elves were brutes, willing to take anything they wished to own and hurt any in their way. It had first been her worry that they had struck him too hard, leaving an injury that was more permanent upon his head than any would have liked, but it seemed it was only enough to leave him sprawled upon the floor and lacking awareness for a few hours. Her hand fell to his shoulder as she let a gentle sight escape from between her lips.

"I'll be fine for now, they were surprisingly gentle with a pregnant elven maid." No tremble touched her words, only because, as a queen, she knew of the importance of appearing strong, even in such places where it seemed that they were doomed no matter what choice of action was taken. "But what we feel now is irrelevant, they still are the wardens, but I don't plan to be a prisoner much longer."

The fine hairs upon the nape of her neck stood on end as the scratch against the chipped wood resounded through the wagon. Her body tensed as she tightened her grip upon Aleric's shoulder. Pilla and Niri shrank back the moment the noise was heard, eyes widening with fright. Erianna leaned forward, muscles bunching beneath the skin as all seemed to grow far too hot, despite the cold air pinching at every part of her. A thick fear had managed to worm its way into her chest, part of her knew the handmaidens would not be able to do anything in response, but another part of her hoped for the miracle of the simple want to survive. The want to be pulled from the mortal toil and return victorious. None of them had seen battle before, but that was not what made an elf a warrior.

But when the doors flew open, she was the only one to spring from her spot, first stumbling back to move away from the grabbing hands as Pilla and Niri let out their shrieks and cowered against one another, shivering in each other's arms as bony fingers latched on to them. Erianna attempted to jerk away but soon felt herself being dragged from the wagon, yanked and tugged until the dim moonlight highlighted her face and their snarls. Another gripped her face as she heard the shrieking of her handmaidens as they were tugged and dragged out after her. Erianna bared her teeth, snapping at the next one that dared come to close to her, but soon found her jaw gripped harshly enough to leave behind a bruise.

The mountain air was colder without the wood to block any gust of wind. Snow crunched beneath her bare feet and burned at the souls as she felt the skin get scratched again by the rock that lined the path. A fire had already been started nearby, others were bent around it, roasting something. Erianna forced herself to stand taller, her mouth set into a line as she shoved back against her captors once again.

"Stop," The elf before her spoke as he waved to the others. His hand dipped down and smoothed over the front of her stomach. He tilted his head before he turned to Aleric.

"Healer. When baby come?" he asked, his voice rough and common tongue broken against his teeth, but he spoke with a certain confidence still. Erianna did not need a healer to know that it was only days away, they were expected to arrive at Nilfidil in less than three days, giving them time to prepare for when she finally gave birth to the heir.

"That's none of your--" But her mouth was soon covered by his hand. A hot breath of air escaped her as unshed tears caused her gaze to appear all the more glassy.

 

[Owl Knight]

The dark elf leader towered over Erianna, gazing down his angular nose at the Queen. He was stripped of the black armor he had worn during the raid and clad himself in a long fur lined robe, ornately embroidered and tied about his waist. The hood of the robe had been pulled back over his broad shoulders revealing rows of long braided hair and a pointed beard. His brows arched as his steely fingers roved over her stomach. Aleric's jaw tightened as he watched the tears well up in the Queen's eyes.

"Answer!" The dark elf who held Aleric's arms behind his back shoved him forwards. Aleric swallowed hard, his eyes roving around the camp. Murilin, Pilla, and Niri stood nearby, each held firmly by a soldier, their bare feet flushing red in the snow and cold gravel. The leader's eyes remained fixed on him, piercing and cold. His thin lips curled in an impatient sneer. "How long?" He asked again, his words slow, menacing, his fingers pressed harder into the Queen's stomach and she gasped.

"Soon!" Aleric blurted. "Soon, a few days maybe a week. Please, don't hurt her." He hated the begging tone he could hear in his voice. He hated the fear he felt rising in his throat, fear for himself, fear for Miruiin, Niri, and Pilla, fear for the Queen and her unborn child. The elf leader's eyes did not waver, but Aleric saw a hint of a satisfied smile curving the corner of his hard cut lips. He nodded to the elf raiders who held the captives in place.

"Inris, varathan nahailun, vas!" he barked. The raiders pounded fists to their breast in salute and once again began dragging their captives through the camp. The leader's gaze strayed back to Erianna, his hand still resting firmly against the swell of her belly.

"Soon," he smiled wickedly, his lips drawing back from his sharpened teeth. He released his grip and the soldier who held the queen dragged her after Aleric and the others.

The prisoners were dragged across the camp, through the tents and torches which, from the wear and build up of dirt and snow, had been here for several days at the least. Scatered dark elf warriors, some in their dark leather armor, others merely tuniced and cloaked, stood or squatted around fires, eyeing the prisoners with malice and a touch of lust. A warrior leaning up against a post called something filth in elvish at Niri as she was dragged past and his companions roared with laughter. The girls were terrified, their faces flushed with the old and tears.

The camp was set up against the base of a vertical cliff face which rose high up above. At the base of the cliff face, at the back end of the camp, a small cave delved deep into the side of the mountain. An iron prison gate had been built across the edge of the cave mouth and two soldiers stood by the open door, ready to receive the prisoners.

One by one, Aleric, Erianna, and the handmaids were pulled inside. The cave was relatively small, illuminated with a pair of oil lamps hung from hooks that had been driven into the walls. A few straw stuffed bedmats lay against the rear wall along with a bucket. The warriors threw their captives down to the dirt floor of the cave, aside from the Queen who they handled more delicately.

One of the guards pointed to the bedrolls. "Aloheim selest," he muttered. "Sleep," he added bluntly, his eyes falling on the healer. He strode across the cave and tapped the bucket with his toe. " Fuluum, escreat," he continued with a cruel grin. The handmaid's grimaced, their faces flushing. "Piss. Shit." he added for Aleric's benefit and laughed uproariously.

The guards threw down a few tattered blankets and stalked out of the cave, slamming the door behind them with a bang and locking it with a large black key. Mirulin stood and helped Pilla and Niri to their feet. Pilla burst into tears, her slender shoulders heaving as Mirulin pulled her close while Niri stroked her hair soothingly.

Aleric watched the warriors leave the cell before turning to the Queen. "My Lady," he said softly, eyeing the bruise o her cheek. "I should check on the baby." He indicated one of the straw mats and wished ruefully that the dark elves hadn't taken his bag.

 

[Melpomene]

The powerful Queen that had once ruled within her own mind crumbled within her the moment she felt those harsh hands dare to rove over the swell of her belly, digging steely fingers deep into her flesh and threatening more than only her well-being. Against her own will, she felt the tears beginning to well up in her eyes, warping her vision as the smug smile stretched across the elf's face. It was a battle of the mind, of willpower and strength, and he knew he won then, knew that she could not fight him any longer and was simply biding his time as she wandered about in his terrible little labyrinth of fear and disgrace. And all she could do was stumble into the arms of the elf that yanked her along, only wary of her health enough to not allow her to fall.

The bruise upon her face seemed to grow more prominent with every blink of her eye in an attempt to rid herself of the tears that had begun to build within her very soul. The harsh hands left a bruise where they grabbed, though Erianna had stopped flinching from the touches. Instead, she began to accept as her mind attempted to push past the hopeless thoughts that swirled and shoved them all into a deeper doom than had ever been imagined.

All had gone so wrong. Her husband would not know of the problem for a few days, though she was sure someone had already taken off to go back to the kingdom and notify him of the attack. But he could not organize and send out troops before the baby was born. For now, they were simply stuck, unable to move from their mortal toil until they managed to find a way out themselves. Her son would be born safe, that she was not doubtful of, but even if it killed her, she would not be leaving without him.

The maidens feared their fate. There was no doubt in it. The rambunctious sounds of the elves outside did nothing to soothe their mood. There was the noise of celebration, no doubt of that. Noise of distant victory that they had already claimed as theirs before the prince had even been brought out into the world and claimed as theirs yet. It nearly made Erianna sick to hear it herself, though as she entered the small makeshift room that would serve as their cell, she forced her back to straighten and steeled her gaze, mouth pulling into a soft frown as she shifted to look upon all of her maidens and Aleric.

Erianna took one step towards the maids that sobbed and shook with fear, though she knew nothing she could say could soothe them. Words of reprehension would be seen as cruelty. Words of promise would be seen as lies.

But she did stop when Aleric spoke, grimacing as her hands smoothed over her stomach.

"Yes... the baby..." She felt it kick at her ribs, so she thought it alright, but she wished to be sure of such as well and came to slowly descend upon the straw mat, letting a harsh breath escape her nose.

"How did they even find out..." she murmured. It was a practiced attack. Not spurious, or else they would not have gotten as far as they did. " She shook her head, forcing the worry down. But it quickly shoved its ugly head through again and she slammed her fist against the ground, ignoring the pain that bloomed there. She said a vulgar curse in elven before glaring to the ceiling.

"We have to get out... Soon we have to..." She winced as she carefully caressed her stomach as the baby kicked again. For his sake, they had to get out.

 

[Owl Knight]

Aleric knelt beside the prone queen, rolling up the sleeves of his blue embroidered tunic. "Pardon me, your highness," he said softly as he parted the front of the robe she wore to expose the alabaster swell of her belly. By the candle light he began to move his hands over the pregnant swell, feeling the outline of Erianna's uterus. He found the babe's rump just above the crest of her belly, below her ribcage. It's back was forward, sloping down to her pelvis where his trained fingers found the child's head, engaged and ready for delivery, whenever her pains should begin.

"The princeling is head down," he said, trying in vain to allow a sense of optimism to slip through in his words. "He is in a favorable position. May I?" He took Erianna's hand and led it gently to the firm bump of the child's backside. "This is his rump," he explained. He led the queen's hand down along the curve of her belly. "This is his back," Aleric's touch against the queen's hand was dextrous and gentle as he brought her hand to the base of her belly where it sloped down into her pelvis. "The head is here," he said. "The child seems unharmed," He smiled as he leaned his head against the queen's belly to listen for the faint heartbeat within. He ruefully wished that he had access to his pinard horn, the narrow wooden tube with a flared end that he would normally use to listen for the heartbeat. In the quiet of the cave he was just barely able to make out the rapid thumping of the baby's heart.

"Do you feel alright?" He asked. "Any discomfort out of the ordinary?"

Aleric was very worried. Under normal circumstances the queen may have a week or more to go before labor would begin, but under these conditions and with the stress of their capture and transportation to this cold encampment, he feared the stress would bring about her time of delivery early.

Pilla and Niri knelt to help their sovereign into a seated position. Niri remained beside the queen to support her.

Before he had time to continue, there was a rattling at the door as one of the dark elf guards unlocked the prison door. Mirulin moved away from the entryway to huddle protectively beside the queen as the dark elf approached, his tall boots grinding in the gravel of the cave floor. The guard's face was hard, like the other dark elves, but there was something of a grimace that flashed across his face as he strode towards them.

"Healer," he barked, pointing a gloved finger at Aleric. "You come...with me," his common was halting and broken, but Aleric was certain his elvish sounded equally flawed.

"I must see to the queen," Aleric replied defiantly. "Her child..." the elf drew a curved knife from his belt, grimacing again as he did so.

"You come now!" He barked, more forcefully. Aleric turned to see the handmaids staring at him, their eyes wide with fear.

"I'll be back," Aleric promised, ruefully. "Keep her comfortable and let her rest," he continued. Turning, he nodded his unwilling consent to the dark elf guard and followed him out of the cave, leaving Erianna and her handmaids alone.

 

[Melpomene]

Erianna had first thought that nothing would calm her mind from its turmoil. Even as the healer gently touched upon her stomach she could not feel herself falling from the worry that had managed to consume her very soul. All her thoughts were on escape and how to ensure the safety of her child. Yet when he took her hands and slipped them over her own belly, she could not help but feel that fear slip away. A breathless gasp escaped her as she felt the form of her child stirring within her. Her eyes grew misty as he guided her hand along its rump, its head, and its tiny spine. Even within her, it felt far too fragile. A mysterious smile touched her lips as she continued to cradle her belly, even after he pulled away. Her little prince was okay for now, and hopefully, he would remain that way.

The wonderful feeling of knowing that her son was safe was able to overshadow the unconventional and near blasphemous actions that were going on. It should have been the royal midwife that had come to feel her stomach like this and ensure the health of the child as Erianna prepared for birth. The fact that it was the male human healer that had seen her in such a state would cause uproar back in the kingdom, but desperate times were enough to cause Erianna to hardly care about what was seen as prim and proper, if it was a decision between following convention and the health of her child, she would always choose the latter.

"I feel fine..." She murmured. "Only a few bruises plague me here and there. But I think, overall, I feel fine. I'll be fine." That she was sure of. At least until the baby was born, the bastards would have to ensure that she was fine. Fine enough to give birth, at the very least.

"He's going to be coming out very soon... I can feel it." She had never known the pains or contractions of birth, but she did know that it was only a matter of time before it started. The baby had stirred after all of this commotion. He was not happy with it and Erianna worried for when he would be born. IF only they had more time... her husband could have sent out troops and had these heathens arrested before their child had the chance to be lost to their hands.

When the door opened, Mirulin hopped forward, quickly covering her queen's nakedness so that no dark elf could see it, and Niri came to help her sit up, though she did not rise, heeding what Aleric said as he was taken by the dark elf.

The elf guard walked awhile, leading Aleric through the camps, dark cloth blending into the night and the smell of iron and blood being very pungent. It was their home and they liked it no other way. Other elves stopped to stare at the human, jeering in their own tongue knowing that even they saw themselves to be above human blood, as at least they bore the birthright of the elves in some way, despite being seen as a plague by their own species.

"You go," he said as he pointed to a richly decorated tent, the flaps only partially open to reveal a soft ember glow, the tell-tale signs of a fire lit within.

 

[Owl Knight]

The dark elf leader's tent was lit by four brass lanterns which hung by chains from the crossbeams above their heads. As his escort parted the curtain to allow Aleric into the tent he felt his senses overwhelmed by the smell of thick incense which wafted from a brazier in the center of the room, its glowing coals providing both warmth and an atmospheric odor. The scent was cloying and rich, clouding the young healer's head as the soldier at his back prodded him forward with a firm hand.

The dark elf leader was seated on a high backed chair of carved ironwood, examining what appeared to be a map laid out on the table in front of him. A dark elf woman, little more than a girl, lounged on the arm of the chair, her icy pale fingers playing with the collar of his robe and his chest as he all but ignored her ministrations. Aleric noted with discomfort the ornate steel collar fastened around her neck and the chain which hung from it. He noted as well the fact that the girl was seriously under-dressed for the mountain cold, her revealing gown surely meant to please her master rather than shelter her from the chill. He knew that the dark elves, long ago exiled to the blasted northern wastelands were adept at surviving in harsh climes, but he felt his stomach turn all the same as he imagined what fate may be in store for the queen and her attendants. If this was how the dark elves treated their own women, how much worse would they treat captured high elf maidens?

As Aleric and the elf soldier approached, the leader rose to face them, shoeing away the girl with a rough hand. She retreated to a corner of the tent to lounge on the pile of dark furs that served as the bed she was likely forced to share with her master, carrying her chain along with her.

"Healer," the elf lord stated, matter of factly as he stood before Aleric, towering over him in the close space of the tent. Aleric cleared his throat and nodded.

"I am," he replied. "I'm a journeyman of the healing temple." Even in the wastes of the north, the symbol of the healing temple which he wore on a chain around his neck was known and, it seemed, respected to a certain degree. It had surely preserved his life during the raid on the Queen's caravan. Boldly, he continued. "And you are Kaevan Belevanan," he ventured. The elf's brows raised and a smile touched the corner of his severe mouth.

"You know me?" he asked, unmoved by the healer's impudence.

"Only by reputation," Aleric replied. Belevanan was the plauge of the elven people, a traitor of a high house who had sold his birthright to the horned god and brought the elven kingdom to the great disparity which plagued their land to this very day. Although Aleric had never seen him in person, he knew him by the withering scar which ran along his jaw, a much spoken of wound received during the first great battle between the dark eves and their former kin.

"You know much," Belevanan mused. He turned to walk to his table where Aleric saw he had stowed the healer's bag of supplies. The elf leader thumbed through some of the contents idly.

"Queen's child, it is strong?" He asked, his common not quite as broken as that of his subordinates. Aleric lowered his gaze briefly, although he felt the elf's piercing gaze upon him as he waited for a response.

"Strong, yes," Aleric replied slowly, measuring his words. "Strong and soon to be born. Two days, maybe sooner. Maybe tonight." He tried to lend weight to his words. He was as of yet unsure if Belevanan wanted the child alive or dead. The elf considered his words for a long while. Aleric found himself perplexed. The stories he had heard of Kaevan the crow were of a vicious and treacherous snake, violent and black of heart. This figure who stood before him seemed so much more cool and collected, but, in many ways, all the more terrifying in his aloof demeanor. A fire burned deep behind the elf's gleaming eyes as he took in the healer's words.

"You have skill?" The elf asked pointedly. "Bring the child?"

Aleric was unsure of the elf's meaning at first, but it dawned on him.

"To deliver her?" He asked. "That was not my mandate. I was sent with the queen merely to observe the ceremony of birth. I have not delivered an elfling." He wanted to be clear. Elven births were rare and notoriously difficult. Although he only knew of such things from scant readings translated from the elvish tongue, he understood that elvish midwives did much work to ease their patients through the trying labor process with scented steam, music, salves, dances and prayers.

"You will bring child," Belevanan repeated. This time it was not a question. Aleric felt his hands tremble. What did this warlord want with an elven princeling? He thought to protest, but he saw that Kaevan's mind was set. There would be no other choice.

"I will need my bag," he insisted. "My medicines."

Belevanan frowned darkly and eyed the bottles and pouches inside the bag.

"I can not do this without them," Aleric stood strong.

"You will have medicine," Kaevan relented at last, closing Aleric bag and handing it to the soldier which stood nearby. Aleric noted that, as the elf soldier reached out for the bag, he held his left arm stiffly at his side and grimaced once more.

"Go," Belevanan ordered, returning to his chair.

The soldier shouldered Aleric's bag and shoved the healer towards the flap of the tent and out into the open air.

As the pair crossed back through the camp towards the cave, Aleric stole a glance at the soldier's side. Sure enough, beneath his stiff arm, he could barely make out a patch of dark wet fabric stained with what could only be blood. The guard held his arm as best he could over the dark patch and, to those with an untrained eye, it had likely gone unnoticed. Aleric was unsurprising. The dark elves, renowned for their merciless natures i the service of the horned god, were quick to eliminate the weak or sickly among their ranks. Infected wounds and injuries which rendered them unable to man their posts more often than not cost lower ranking soldiers their lives. Sacrifices made to appease the grim patron of their race before battle.

Sweat beaded on the elf's neck and he grimaced somewhat as they neared the cave and he pulled open the door, throwing Aleric's bag to the dirt inside.

"In," he ordered gruffly. As he pulled the gate closed, Aleric quickly shuffled in his bag and drew out a small cloth pouch.

"Wait," he called out as the elf turned to go. The soldier turned with anger flashing in his eyes. Aleric held out two small bundles of dried flowers which he had pulled from the pouch. "Your wound," Aleric pointed to his own side, hoping the elf would understand. An uncharacteristic look of fear leaped into the soldiers eyes and he approached the gate hurriedly.

"N'sah!" He hissed through clenched teeth. He winced as the wound gnawed at him.

"It's infected," Aleric insisted. "This will help. Wet it with water and press it into the wound with a bandage." He pantomimed the action. "It will help." The elf eyed him warily, but he accepted the healer's offered gift. With a frown he turned and hurried off into the camp. Aleric was uncertain what had driven him to offer aid to his captor, but his conscience felt light as he made his way to the back of the cave where Erianna and the handmaidens awaited him.

 

[Melpomene]

It was known that the dark elves were far from a group that showed pity to any that they deemed to be an enemy. They were ruthless, barely even caring for the basic necessities of their own people, shoving them aside if they were deemed to be too weak. They always claimed to only wished to cleanse themselves of every imperfection. That they wanted to know themselves as the supreme beings and to do that, they could not only be content with having a few that acted above average, but they had to only have genetic perfection. The strongest and boldest were the only that were allowed to live to the older ages. There was no doubt that their leader was one of the fiercest out of them all and had no qualms with taking the liberties necessary to strike down his enemies.

To be in their clutches was nothing short of terrifying. Their sneers were ones that could haunt the dreams of even the most seasoned warrior. Their flashing blades held no honor. They had forsaken that the moment they had decided to join the dark faith. They did not know peace, they only knew war. They did not know good, they only knew pain and misery. None even knew love, they only knew hatred. In a way, their life seemed sad, especially in their earned banishment. Yet feeling sorry for them was far from what they were deserving of.

So what they wanted with an innocent being that was untouched by any of their darkness was something that was beyond disturbing. It was obvious they did not want the child to die, or else they would have proven to be far less gentle with the handling of Erianna, likely they would have even done things to aggrevate the situation and make her more likely to lose her child, even this late in her pregnancy, but instead they had treated her with as much gentleness as they were actually capable of, which was more than most would originally think of them.

There was not one eye that stayed away from any sight of newcomers. It already seemed as though they were ready to bury their fingers into the flesh of anyone that came close. Pilla had taken to sit by the door for a moment, leaning to hear what was going on in the outside world as she nervously wrung her hands before glancing back to her Queen as Erianna took large and heavy breaths in an attempt to calm herself. Mirulin pressed gentle hands against her shoulders in an attempt to relieve the pent up stress that had managed to worm its way into her muscles and Niri sat to the side as she worried her already reddened lip.

"We're getting out," she spoke lowly, in elvish. "We're getting away from here. Whether they desire us to be gone or not, my little princeling--" she sighed as she cradled her belly tighter. Mirulin stopped her movements as she sniffed.

"They scare me," she admitted quietly. "They looked at us like--"

"I know..." Erianna sighed. "I know, and that's why we have to get away from here,"

"Your majesty, you're pregnant," Niri said then. "You can't survive long out there, you're giving birth."

"I don't care, my son isn't going to be taken by those savage monsters," Erianna grunted out as she sat up again. "We just need to run when they aren't looking."

"If they want the child alive..." Pilla suddenly said, leaning back. "If they want the child alive, they won't take him immediately. You'll have to nurse him, won't you? For a long while, they'll need you to nurse him so he survives, won't they?"

Erianna leaned back as she felt the sweat touch her brow and then gently nodded her head. That much did make sense. They would still need her, and if she had the little babe in her arms...

Movement outside caused Pilla to jump from the door, coming to cower by Erianna and the other maidens, body trembling alongside them as she watched as a dark elf threw the door open, gripping Aleric harshly by the collar of his shirt and throwing him into the cave alongside the elven women. He stopped as he looked over the lot of them for a moment, his head tilting to the side as a cruel smile twisted on his lips as he let his eyes roam over Mirulin freely.

"Nagalin," he said, and Mirulin quickly shoved herself back, trembling against Erianna as a harsh laugh filled the air and the dark elf stepped back into the cold air, quickly turning to slam the door closed behind him, hard enough to cause the frame to shudder with the sheer power of it. Erianna felt her hands curl into small fists before she lifted her eyes to Aleric again.

"Where did they take you? Are you heart?" she asked in the common tongue. Then she sighed and let herself fall back on to the mattress, pressing her hand to her forehead in an attempt to calm herself down.

 

[Owl Knight]

Aleric watched the dark elf retreat from the mouth of the cave, clutching the poltices the healer had given him. Even in his cruelty, Aleric could not help but feel sympathy towards the soldier. What must it be like to be full of such spite for the world and such fear of weakness? He hoped that the healing herbs would be enough to ease the soldier's pain for a time, though he held little hope of receiving acknowledgement for the gesture.

The Queen greeted him as he turned and moved slowly back towards the secluded rear of the cave. She was stretched out on one of the thin straw mattresses, her hand massaging her brow and her belly rising above her slender frame like a sloping white hill. Aleric sighed wearily as he approached. He was exaughsted, the lump on the side of his head was throbbing dully and he felt the adrenaline of the last several hours slowly draining from his body.

Laying his satchel of healing supplies to one side, he sat cross-legged on the gravel floor beside the Queen. Normally such informality would be a disastrous breach of courtly ettiquet, but in their current situation, such niceties were well behind them.

"I'm unharmed," he replied. "And I was able to retrieve my supplies," he pointed meaningfully to the bag where it lay against the cave wall. "That's as good a start as any, I suppose." A soldier had left bread, water, and a few ay drinking bowls while Aleric was occupied in Belevanan's tent. Aleric took one of the bowls which stood close enough for him to reach from where he sat and began to mix a powder from a packet in his bag into the water. The water fuzzed as the powder dissolved.

"Drink this, your highness," he encouraged. "It may help you relax and slow the onset of labor for a time." He had no way of knowing how soon the Queen would deliver, but the dark elf's edict that he would oversee the birth of the child hung over his head like a cloud.

He glanced back towards the door, seeing no guards standing close enough by to hear their conversation.

"The Crow is here," he murmured, just loud enough for the four elvish women to hear. Niri gasped at his words, and Pilla went pale. Mirulin crouched beside the Queen and stared hard at Aleric.

"Belevanan?" she asked, her voice sharp with concern, her eyes moved protectively to her mistress. Aleric nodded gravely.

"I'm certain of it," he replied. "He ordered me to see to it that the princeling is delivered," he continued, watching the faces of the handmaids as they gathered close to the Queen. Pilla's amber eyes brimmed with tears and Mirulin stared at the Queen's swollen belly, her jaw set and her lips gone pale.

"What does the kinslayer want with the princeling?" Niri fumed, her eyes flashing with defiance. She reached out for Erianna's hand. The survivors of the Queen's retinue seemed to hover over Erianna as if trying for form a barrier around their sovereign against the designs of the dark elves outside.

"I can't imagine what he desires with the child," Aleric replied, his thoughts bleak. "Our audience was very brief. All I know is he wants the child alive for some purpose."

 

[Melpomene]

It was only right in such a time that fears would be answered. Erianna felt her heart fall from its place in her chest all the way to her stomach in the few moments that it took for Aleric to settle himself and speak. It seemed something had reached up from thev very blackness that had corrupted the hearts of every dark elf that walked the land, pushing between her and her child and making a barrier of unforseen strength that separated her forever from finding the family and wellness that was not only supposed to be brought for herself, but for her kingdom as well.

I can't live on if you do no return to me... you or my son, I can't live on if you don't come back to me.

The words of her husband seemed to echo ever louder with every passing moment. His worried, handsome face as he placed his hand upon her swollen abdomen, looking so excited at the simple prospect of being able to call the tiny being growing within her his son. Of holding him in the little silken bundle that he would begin in until he could be taught the ways of a king. How to fight and how to ride. How to rule and govern without fear as the land thrived beneath him. He was supposed to learn how to tread in the light, away from the bleak that was the dark elves. He was supposed to be a savior. Someone that could be looked to, not someone lost in the hands of whatever wretch thought himself worthy of stealing him from his mother's breast.

A shuddering breath escaped her mouth as she took Aleric's concoction and pressed it to her lips, wishing to slow labor as far as she could. Far enough so that they could think. Far enough so that they could have some semblance of a plan that would keep her child's fragile little body from having to be heir to the harsh claws of the dark elves.

"I would bet they wish to corrupt him..." she said quietly as the teats began to sting her eyes, a hand slipped to gently cradle her stomach. The tears began to slip from the corners of her eyes and fall down her alabaster cheeks. "They want to corrupt my baby with their darkness."

Niri's hold on Erianna's hand tightened immensely as she shifted closer, gentle fingers threading through her queen's hair, though as Erianna opened her eyes she could already see that the others felt the same worry begin to fester within them. That was why she willed the tears to stop as she blinked quickly and wiped what proof of her breaking spirit was left upon her cheeks.

"Belevanan is the only elf that could have gone through with this. His heart is blacker than the rest." Erianna closer her eyes tightly and tilted her head back. "He wants his way and he will have it if it is the last thing he does. You don't become a plague by not being persistent. If he gets his hands on the baby, then he will do as he wills. But as long as I am here..."

"He can't touch the princeling!" Mirulin said heatedly. "He can't touch him! His majesty--"

"Will have a fit, yes," Erianna said, managing a rye smile despite it all as she thought of how her husband would already be ordering them rescued. "But that does not matter now. What matters is what we do and how we get out. Aleric, did you see any weaknesses or things of interest while you were led through the camp?"

 

[Owl Knight]

Aleric frowned and stared down into the dirt that comprised the floor of the cave.

"I saw very little," he confessed. "There are many soldiers encamped here. Thirty at the very least, but the area is so well fortified that even an army of a hundred would have difficulty overcoming them. As far as I can tell, there is but one pathway out of the encampment, the way we were brought up. There may be a back way as well, leading north, but if there is, I did not see it." He waved his hand back towards the steel bars which turned the cave into a cell.

"They have us under guard, no doubt that will not change unless he plans to move us. But from what I can tell, he plans to stay until the princeling is born. What he will do then, I cannot say." The healer's eye roved from Niri, to Pilla, to Mirulin, and at last to the queen. Pilla and Niri's lips trembled and, although Mirulin was surely also deeply afraid, her jaw was set in a firm line.

"If we were able to escape," Aleric frowned, "we would be lost in the mountains. Three barefoot girls, and a pregnant woman about to give birth at any moment. They would not take long to be on our tails even if we could move quickly." His trepidation was beginning to show. He could not imagine a scenario in which their escape could be managed, the odds were too great even if they could somehow unlock the gate. "Forgive me your highness," he said softly. "we must hang on to hope, but escape could cost your life and...and the life of your child."

He turned to the maidens who knelt at their mistresses side. Pilla had taken the queen's delicate hand in her own and was stroking it fearfully.

"I will need you, all of you, when the time comes," he said. What little he had read of Elven births had detailed them as a communal affair, the mother leaning and relying upon the strength and support of other women in the throes of a difficult labor.

"We will do whatever we can," Niri chimed in, her voice firm and determined. Mirulin rose and gazed off in the direction of the gates.

"But we must plan an escape," she murmured. "My lady," she said, her eye falling dotingly upon the queen. "Our prince shall not fall to these beasts."

Aleric watched her go, her bare feet moving in determined strides as she sauntered to the steel gate at the mouth of the cave. As she approached the gate, he noted a particular sway in her hips, a sensuousness that was unlike the usually proud and dignified maid. She leaned upon the steel bars and called out in elvish to the guard who stood nearby. Although Aleric could not make out her words, Pilla gasped and blushed and Niri's eye grew wide. The guard approached, his face stern, but his eyes roved up and down the captive girl's body as she toyed with the steel bars. They exchanged some words in hushed tones and a lascivious smile crossed the guard's lips. He unlocked the cage and stood aside to let Mirulin out. She turned, casting a glance back into the cave that was somehow both reassuring and fearful before she and the guard vanished together into the camp.

Niri burst into tears as the gate closed.

"What is she doing?" She wailed followed by a lament in elvish which Aleric couldn't quite parse.