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Two territories merge for survival, bringing with them very different beliefs. |
| [Introduction] Crossing Borders ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** The Elite: Daeron, Elros, Alderyn, Ryoko & Accalon. For many long years, the race of Elves has ruled over the lands of Melyan. A change in the winds has swept over the earth [Melyan], signaling the end of the age of Elves. The time of men fast approaches, and soon, mankind will have dominion over all. Already, many of the immortal race has fled to the havens beyond the edge of Melyan. They leave behind the last of their kind, as only two Elven territories remain intact: Arda, a forested village of peaceful elves who see no threat in the rising power of men, and Thelde, the stone city where distrust and lack of faith in mankind is bred into the minds of all. Now, the people of Arda and Thelde must join to create the last standing realm of Elves. What will happen when these neighboring forces unite for survival? The joining of these territories involves meshing two very different cultures to make one society that can function and endure. This struggle is most prominent in the young lives of each realm’s elite. As marriages are arranged, crowns are passed on, and a new society is formed, young Elven men and women from both Arda and Thelde must play a part in helping these two territories merge successfully. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  The conflict central to this story is whether the people from Arda and Thelde will do what is necessary to ensure that they create a stable, safe place for the remaining Elves. The real story centers on the lives of some characters, from each territory, who play vital roles in the joining of these realms.Characters from Arda Princess Ryoko Position: Has faith in humans and maintains high hopes for a peaceful future. There is question of whether she will marry Accalon. She is almost as concerned [as Lady Alderyn] about having the dark prince in power. Relations: She and her brother, Daeron, remain close during these difficult times. Also, she hopes to mend Lady Alderyn’s (as well as Captain Elros’) views of humans, knowing that they will govern their joined realm together. Author: Sarah Rae   Prince Daeron Position: Set to marry Lady Alderyn. His belief in loyalty and responsibility is both his strength and his weakness. Relations: He barely knows Lady Alderyn, and he can only hope that they will grow to love one another as he fulfills his duty as prince. When Accalon returns at the joining of Arda and Thelde, he forms a surprising relationship with him. Author: xzar Other: Their parents, King Leandir & Queen Rai. Characters from Thelde Lady Alderyn Position: Since Accalon was banished, she has been set to act as ruler on behalf of Thelde when the two realms join. She is betrothed to Prince Daeron, a pleasant thought for the most part, aside from his and his sister’s incorrect views on humans. Relations: She has an extreme dislike of Accalon, especially when she finds out he has been given permission to come home. Author: Sylver is graduating!  Captain Elros Position: Alderyn’s elder brother and the leader of the Theldian army. Known as the highest believer of Elven superiority. It is no secret that he wishes to overthrow the growing power of men. Relations: Alderyn would prefer to see Elros take the throne at Ryoko’s side, but he is skeptical as he views Ryoko’s faith in men as weakness. In time, he feels he will make her see the truth. Author: The Man With The Golden Pen Prince Accalon Position: Previously exiled from Thelde. No one knows exactly why, but the rumors never cease. At the announcement of Arda and Thelde’s union, he was finally granted permission to return home. Relations: Everyone questions where he stands in regards to the impending age of men. Though he has few companions, he finds himself striking up an unexpected friendship with Daeron. Author: Aiken4LOTR Other: Accalon's parents, King Marik & Queen Arryn. At the beginning of the story, the arrangment between the two territories has been finished. Therefore, Arda and Thelde are now one sole kingdom of Elves, called Arthelaria. The repspective kings & queens are preparing to pass on their crowns, as marriage arrangments among the young elite are being negotiated. This will enable the elite from both realms to work together as equals. |
Dark pools of ember watched quietly from on the hill, overlooking the Syndal River. Across it ran a small cobbled bridge, connecting the last remaining realms of Elves. To the east, travelers would head directly towards the tall, iron-wrought gates of Thelde. And to the west, a narrow, meandering path led straight into the heart of the Ardaian forest. No longer was each realm its own entity; now they were one. Rain had just cut short its visit to the newly merged territory, leaving in its wake a heavy mist. Small figures dashed back and forth across the bridge, their path illuminated by the hanging lanterns swinging in the cool breeze. The leaves of Arda shimmered in the evening glow; the soft scent of flowers and the quiet hum of music wafted in the air. Shouting, laughter and horns sounded in the castle of Thelde as villagers danced within its stone walls. Tonight was an evening of celebration. It had been settled; Arda and Thelde had come together despite the differences between them. Now they formed Arthelaria, the last realm of Elves. The question now was could they, despite their differences, continue to survive as one? On the hill overlooking the Syndal River stood a visitor; he was no stranger, but he had not laid eyes on these lands for years. The wind whipped against him, but he did not pull his cloak in closer; he did not brush the dark tresses from his eyes. He merely stood, his breath cold in the night, waiting for the right moment. To be sure, King Leandir and Queen Rai of Arda were now seated next to King Marik and Queen Arryn. They were all gathered in the warmth inside the Theldian castle, where citizens of the combined realms celebrated together. Tonight, they could all claim to belong to Arthelaria, but he wondered, for how long would this last? Soon, the party would come to an end. And eventually, the rulers would have to join and begin to form a new, united society. Accalon nearly laughed at the thought. It was necessary to unite, but was it possible? Finally, when the roaring coming from the castle subdued, he stepped down from the hill. He walked along the outskirts of the forest and approached the western edge of the bridge. He inhaled deeply as he let his footfall echo against the cobbled stone and rock. He had made it. He was home. Suddenly, a light rain began to fall, stirring the young elf to quicken his pace. He passed through the open gates, curiously left unguarded, and advanced toward the castle doors. There two guards stood silently. Neither questioned the cloaked figure standing before them; they had been expecting him. They bowed slowly and watched as he strode through the doors, ready to accept his homecoming. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The colors and fabrics of dresses swirled together; the heavy music clouded the conversations in the room, and the aroma of food choked all who attempted to breathe. Accalon walked swiftly, making his way through the crowd. As he neared the stage, where the royalty sat, the dancing couples soon came to a halt. Accalon could feel the eyes of the crowd burning into him; they were looks of wonder, of confusion, but mostly of relief. The people were glad to have him back, but he was not sure if he returned the feeling. Off to the side, the glaring of a certain stubborn Lady caused Accalon’s lips to curl into a slight smile. It was the eyes of his mother, though, that made him stop in his tracks. He immediately lowered his head to bow, and she quickly wrapped her arms around him, pulling his face up to see him. A radiant smile graced her features, though tears were brimming the edges of her eyes. “Welcome home,” she whispered into his ear, trying desperately to ignore her son’s unresponsive stance. Just then, King Marik rose from his chair and gestured toward the musicians, signaling for the music and the party to resume. He did not hesitate in leaving the scene, though he made sure to give kind good-byes to everyone else. Accalon paid him no attention. Queen Arryn had intended to introduce him to the others sitting with them: King Leandir, Queen Rai, and their daughter, the lovely Princess Ryoko. Though, their son Prince Daeron was noticeably missing. It had been years since Accalon had met the king and queen of Arda, and Arryn wasn't entirely sure if her son even knew their children. Instead, Accalon ignored his waiting mother and seated himself in his father’s throne. She muttered apologies and settled back into her own seat. Lady Alderyn’s disapproval was evident; she heatedly grabbed Captain Elros’ arm and vanished into the crowd of dancers. This small action had brought Accalon the most pleasure all evening. “Tomorrow morning,” Queen Arryn said softly, breaking the silence between them, “that’s when we’ll discuss matters. You’ll get to formally meet the leaders of Arda at breakfast, and then we’ll begin.” Accalon hadn’t wished to hear it. He cared not for the politics of his father. He merely nodded and excused himself, knowing exactly where to seek refuge for the night. The people parted quickly, making way for their prince as he tore through the hall, leaving in a fashion similar to his father--though, no one would ever mention this aloud. |
Shimmering pools of cerulean danced wistfully from the balcony, overlooking the Syndal River. The very same river that had snaked around the border of Arda since time immemorial, where as a child he and Ryoko had played, their laughter filling the air as they danced around the banks, playing the games that children do. At the time Thelde did not even register to the younger elves, despite its towering walls that seemed to cast a permanent shadow over the river. As time passed and the elven settlements began to dwindle, both Arda and Thelde seemed to pay each other more mind and by the time there were only a handful of havens for their kind across the land, looks of mild curiosity from both sides became looks of longing as each realm swelled with immigrants from the vanishing elf lands until finally, they were the only two left. Since his childhood the Syndal had been the one thing that remained unchanged, but from this side it appeared very different to Daeron indeed. Despite the sounds of merriment coming from within the castle proper, Daeron could still make out the sounds of nature coming from the forest below and revelled in it, taking in deep breaths of the clean air which mingled with the gentle fragrance of the flowers that coiled up and around the balcony. As he was to become a ruler of Thelde, albeit the lesser power in the partnership, Daeron accepted as his lot having to come to terms with leading a city life. Thelde had its own majesty of course, the sleek buildings and regimented cobble streets possessed of their own haunting beauty, but nothing could truly come close to the tranquility of the Arda glades. Thinking of the gentle breezes that danced within the trees and the soft ground underfoot took Daeron back to when he first became one of the Ardan Elumi, stalking prey through the forest, moving and blending with her as though they were of the same skin. As a Prince of Arda, his position within the Elumi was not only expected but of vital importance. As King of Thelde, Daeron could see no place for it. Glancing back toward the light coming from the main hall and hearing the sounds of a united people, he knew that his presence was far from required. Tomorrow he would tour Thelde with Captain Elros, but this evening his duties as a royal were complete. Smiling to himself, Prince Daeron gave one last glance toward the hall before decending the stairs that led down from the balcony toward the courtyard. What little guards there were that stood watch by the main gate paid little heed to Daeron leaving, with not so much as a movement. Not that he minded, quite the opposite in fact. Whether due to the hood that he had raised over his head or more likely his slowly eroding anonymity in Thelde, he was thankful. Over the coming years, there would be plenty of time for bowing and scraping. The castle led straight into nature and the cobbled path to Arda, with the city of Thelde lying behind the castle and what had once presumably been the first line of defence from invaders. Despite being excused from the celebrations, Daeron's night belonged to Thelde and the beauty uncontained by walls. Whilst the forest on this side of the river remained a mystery to him, the forest on the Arda side was of the same soul and he moved quickly through it, despite the low light and thick branches. Away from the masoned cobbles of Thelde and even the dirt clearings of Arda, he like any other elf felt most at home with the softer forest earth beneath his feet, the subtle fragrance of the forest and the scant light of the sun, or moon, puncturing the small gaps of the woodland canopy. The trees gradually began to clear and the ground became softer underfoot until the light of the moon fully illuminated a small clearing in the heart of the forest. Such clearings as these had been cherished by Ryoko and himself as children and no doubt to every generation before them. The two had sat for hours within such woodland glades, talking about anything and everything, the pre-occupations of youth, idle gossip, playing games to debating what humans looked like. As it turned out, they were wrong, on almost everything Daeron could think of and more besides. Breathing in the air, the Prince began to move into the middle of the clearing. The ground became slick with mud the further he went and bending at the knee, Daeron ran his hand along the ground feeling the wetness of the earth below. Some sort of spring must have run underground, perhaps some subsiduary of the Syndal, no doubt the reason why the trees retreated from the clearing. An area such as this was a rarity in Thelde it seemed and perhaps one of the few things that would connect him to Arda, his people and his sister. Of course Arthelaria was one kingdom now and a such nothing stopped him from going to the Arda side, but a King had responsibilities and his would be to his people. The people of Thelde. A ruler that was absent in mind may as well be absent in body and by frequenting Arda, he would be both. However that was a truth for tomorrow. As a Prince of Arda, Daeron had his fair share of responsibilities, albeit very different from the ones that he would soon be adopting. Smiling to himself as he truly felt the rain upon his skin for the first time, Daeron clumsily ripped his dress shirt off and began gathering up large handfuls of mud. The earth had been used countless times to adorn the bodies of the Elumi and although foreign to him and his fellows, the ground in this glade was connected to the ground in Arda and the world over by simply being. The sweat, blood and tears of the Elumi had fallen upon that same ground and those same essences were to mingle with Daeron this eve as he daubed the mud over his chest and arms, the cold and thickness awakening his senses. Claiming this ground was a mark of respect for those that had fallen as well as those that still walked the forests within the Elumi, for every beast that roamed and creature that paid proper due to nature. Closing his eyes, Daeron began to rub the mud into his face, pausing only to scoop up more of the moist soil. The forest seemed more alive than ever as Daeron felt the stirrings of night birds and heard the rustling of leaves at the winds touch long before he felt it upon his back. As he felt movement all around him, Daeron slowed his hand, eventually letting them drop down to his sides as he knelt in the soil. Something clawed at his head, like some solid emptiness. Turning his head slowly Daeron opened his eyes and could just make out a figure leaning against a tree, his eyes trained on him. “Please. Do not stop on my account.” The voice seemed heavy and thick, loaded with something that the Prince could not quite place. Although his posture appeared relaxed, there was something more to this one, like some beast ready to pounce and yet Daeron did not feel the rush of fear upon hearing his voice. Turning his head back slowly to the earth, he continued to apply the mud making sure that every inch of his torso was covered. A prince did not stop what he thought was right and that applied to an Elumi as well. “When I was last here, that was a pond.” “Given time, it will be again.” Standing slowly, Daeron scanned the trees, his back still to the stranger. Turning to face him would suggest that he did not trust him, or worse that he was scared, and he had no intention of giving him that impression. Breathing in the trees and the scent of the wind it felt like an eternity before he spoke again. “Is this what passes for culture in Arda?” Inwardly Daeron felt a burst of anger but it was quickly quelled as his instincts as a Prince took over. “If you are asking whether it is important to the elves of Arda, then yes, it is.” he said, a little too curtly despite himself. “You believe that the court of Thelde will understand such practices? When Arthelaria comes Arda will bow its head to Thelde.” Daeron slowly began to turn, desperate for his movements not to reflect the curiosity within him. The stranger had closed the gap between the two, with only a few feet between them and although the moon did little to illuminate him, his eyes seemed to burn with a light of their own. “Arda and Thelde will be equals, from the common man to the royal...” Daeron began to trail off his sentence as the stranger began to laugh softly. Truly, he had never encountered an elf like this in all his days. “Have you even been to the royal court in Thelde? Struggles for power is the everyday for those people, and the merger is no different. You can guarantee that for every move, twist and turn that happens from here onward, there will be someone at court who tries to turn it to their advantage.” The elf's voice remained cool, despite the passion behind his words. For one who thought so little of Arda, the feelings for his homeland seemed little better. “We are all that is left.” Daeron said plainly. “If only things were as you say. At one time... I would have deeply wished that what you say is true. Just watch them, every last one of them. Snakes, all.” “The snake is of the earth as are we all.” Daeron said playfully, shifting the weight on his feet. “Only from an Ardaian.” The stranger said, although the smile was evident in his voice. “You are of Thelde? Then you must soon swear your fealty to Lady Alderyn.” Daeron said tentatively. The silence that followed felt heavy. “For a mud slapping villager you seem very well informed.” The stranger stated. “You would do well to steer clear of her, Ardaian.” “Is there anyone you trust?” “Not even myself.” The moon ran along the contours of the stranger and for the first time Daeron took a good look at him. In stature and size the elf was little different from himself, yet from what he could make out of his clothing he appeared to be wearing a cut that was neither Ardaian or Theldian in origin. As his eyes travelled up to meet the stranger's own, Daeron realised with a start that they were trained steadily upon him, unflinchingly meeting and holding his gaze. “I should leave you to your glade and your memories...” “You handle a sword?” Daeron stopped mid-turn, flicking his eyes back up to meet the strangers. “A little,” he said modestly, “as any elf would. Do you wish to attack me?” The stranger laughed softly, a sound almost swallowed up the noises of the night. “No. If I were staying, I may have tested the mettle of an Ardaian swordsman in a more appropriate setting.” “You mean sparring?” “You spar in Arda?” the elf said with mock incredulousness. Daeron allowed a smile to slip onto his face, knowing it would be lost to the darkness. “If you were staying, I would have accepted. When is it you plan to leave?” The stranger shifted slightly, pausing before answering. “A few days perhaps, no more.” “Then you have time enough to join me in the hunt.” Daeron said airily. “You want me to... go dancing about the woods at night?” The elf said, his tone changing. Daeron felt a rush, as if finally the tide had turned and he had some control. “If it does not clash with your Theldian sensibilities or splash too much dirt upon your pretty petticoat.” He said, his voice aglow with triumph. “If you have a few days spare, then you will have time to rest later. Enough for even a weak stomached Theldian to recuperate.” The elf stood, stoic as ever, yet without a wordy reply, the contents of his mind and reasoning a mystery to Daeron. Turning around and readying himself to leave, the Prince heard a movement behind him and turning back around he saw the elf stand there, statuesque in the same spot as he had been in but moments before but bare chested, his shirt on the ground. |
Inside the castle of Thelde, speculation and whispers flowed through the people, as both the Ardaians and Theldians contemplated the arrival and departure of the prince of Thelde and the retreat of the king. However, within the circle of merriment, and with their duties for the night complete, few noticed the absence of two main figures. Having withdrawn from the celebration, Alderyn led Elros to a side balcony, away from prying eyes and ears, though the festivities could still be heard. Without pausing in her stride, she released the captain’s arm and paced restlessly on the balcony. He watched with calm but somewhat wary eyes, no doubt unsure how to deal with her uncharacteristic behavior. Alderyn knew she rarely lost her temper, and when she did, she always made certain she was separated from any person. Having a tantrum never gained one support while helping to rule a kingdom. Despite this joyous night of rejoicing in the joining of the two territories, Alderyn could feel the controversy that was about to begin. Even though she had agreed with the adjoining of Thelde and Arda, she knew the differences between the two people were excessive. Betrothals were a crack in the ice that needed to be broken, and Alderyn believed that with the right moves and the right amount of power, that ice could be shattered. Accalon was a player in this game that she had considered, but dismissed. Her beliefs had been that he would either not be welcome home, or would not come back. “We need to consider how this may alter outcomes,” Elros stated, breaking the placidity of the darkness. Staring into the aphotic depths of the night, Alderyn let its serenity calm her as she watched the shadows below. The trouble with power was that someone else always wanted it. You had to plan your maneuvers and take certain risks to maintain control. “What we need,” she replied quietly, aware of the tranquility of the night, “is to know his intentions. I’m sure Prince Accalon would love to thwart certain laid plans. However, and as much as I hate to think the better of him, he may stay uninvolved with set schemes.” It sounded doubtful to even her own ears. Looking out across the winding and shimmering depths of the Syndal River, Alderyn observed the magnificent forest of Arda. The majestic trees were awe inspiring and of exceptional beauty. One could look upon them and almost believe that the elves faced no danger or change. A sublime thought, distant and dangerous as well. The humans were inexorably taking over Melyan, and as they did, the elves were slowly but surely coming to the end of their time. An obscure future was what the people of Thelde and Arda could look forward to. Alderyn looked up to the night sky, but no stars shone back at her. The heavy mist, a consequence of the earlier rain, clouded the usually clear and beautiful night. Despite all efforts to the contrary, her thoughts, equally clouded by her rising temper, remained trained on a single being. Accalon. |
The party was finally beginning to decay, from the elegant gathering of the elite to a mindless orgy of drunken nobility. Ryoko sat beside her parents, secure from pawing hand and wine-drenched breaths. Her gaze constantly darted from one doorway to the other. There were three exits from the arched ballroom, four if you counted the servants' doorway, hidden by well placed decorations. She was waiting for the returns. Her brother had gone missing hours ago, following his restless feet and the need for open air. Lady Alderyn had disappeared much sooner, but her disappearance was more surprising to the princess. Then, there was the third missing soon-to-be ruler: Accalon, the dark prince who had disappeared almost as suddenly as he had arrived. Ryoko's thoughts were chaotic behind the calm mask she wore. The negotiations had been going on for months, starting with a few formal visits between Thelde and Arda, then escalating in to days long discussions behind locked doors between her parents and the rulers of Thelde. Now... Now Ryoko's future had changed from what she had always thought it would be. She had a greater purpose. Fate had put her in a position that could leave her remembered as a great ruler, one of the queens that had ruled the newly united remaining territories. Or she would be one of the queens that lead the remaining elven territories to their destruction, never to be remembered as anything else. Ryoko's fingers traced the carvings on the elegant chair she sat on, her gaze traveling over the exits once again. Her mother, Queen Rai, leaned towards her, keeping her movements slight. "We will retire soon," she said softly. Ryoko inclined her head, signaling she had heard. She was ready to leave this party. Her role here was done. She only wished she had the audacity to slip away, as her other co-rulers had. With her thoughts, her gaze drifted to the doorway Accalon had left through. In a few days, perhaps sooner, another step of her fate would be sealed under a betrothal contract. The orchestra's music changed to play the strange medley of the two territories royal themes. Ryoko waited for her parents to stand before standing herself. It was finally time to leave. |
Elros mused on Accalon’s return as he wandered through the back courtyard of the citadel of Thelde. When it became apparent that Alderyn wasn’t going to speak anymore, he excused himself. Accalon had been banished years ago, for reasons unknown to all but King Marik. And now, just as the remaining Elven populations were preparing to come together as one, the young prince returns on invitation. How the captian longed to speak with the “Aezoli,” the Exile; there was much to say after all. Ah, but there was to be a meeting between all the leaders and high ranked characters of Arda and Thelde, and much would be said there, he was sure. Most likely from his sister, Alderyn. Elros’ boots squished on wet grass, and he stopped at the statue in front of him. On the block beneath the figure, it read: “Findecano Faelivrin. The Spymaster of Thelde.” The statue depicted the elf clothed completely in cloaks, shrouds and hoods, with only his eyes revealing any natural part of him. The one end of his cloak around him like a shield, with a short sword in the other hand, behind him, ready to strike. This particular elf had lived over a thousand years ago, playing the role of the eyes and ears of Thelde, having been key in stopping several assassination attempts on the then king at the time. After staring at the statue of one of the Theldian historic heroes, he resumed his walk on the cobblestone path. It’s not like he wasn’t disturbed by Accalon’s return, himself. Elros strongly believed in the concepts of law, order, and tradition, and believed that once a lawful punishment was administered, it should always remain so. And this business about surviving the expansion by the humans made it a worse time for it, so uproarious it seemed to be amongst the elven race. He pondered on the Exile’s niche in these strange times, on what he will balance since all things have their counterpart. Why was he invited back? Such questions would be answered in time, he supposed. Eventually, his thoughts drifted to the other problem facing the Thelde. The human mongrels. He was unsure how long it would take until they dominated Melyan and the once powerful elven territories were truly the minority, but it would certainly be seen in his lifetime, of that, he was sure of. And Arda’s feelings on these humans disappointed him greatly. The two remaining territories were complete opposites, right down to the architecture. Whereas Thelde was an urban population filled with high-rising towers and majestic buildings, Arda was a quiet swamp, basically. It had even been whispered in the alleyways of Thelde that since Accalon had been exiled, that Elros himself would join Ryoko in marriage as a part of this union, but the Exile’s return complicated even that. It was just as well, her view on humans was incorrect anyways. |
Accalon sighed as they marched through the thick woodlands, the damp, soft ground giving way beneath their feet. They were deep into the Ardaian forest, near the heart of it. Unlike Thelde, its palace and inhabitants were sheltered not by walls but by a thick canopy of trees, vines, and undergrowth. Accalon attempted to move his shoulders, but they felt thick and heavy from the drying mud that remained on his body. As he watched the Ardaian stranger walk beside him, and a group of these so-called Elumi before him, the young prince couldn’t help but feel puzzled by this ritual. According to his new friend, who still remained nameless, the Elumi were scouts for Arda’s army. They were skilled in the way of rangers, gifted in the knowledge of plants, herbs, and healing powers; but they were also well equipped with the prowess and intellect of soldiers. With the joining of the realms at hand, it was still to be decided whether these beings would keep their positions. Accalon figured that Captain Elros would be running Arthelaria’s combined army, and the choice would rest in his hands. If the young captain could see the custom they were now performing, the elf was sure that this group of people would not remain for long. Finally, the footsteps changed as they approached a dry, dirt path that led into the village of Arda. The homes were built in and around the trees, with little effort to disrupt the natural setting. The only building of special importance, which boasted the most intricate architecture, was that of the Ardaian palace. Accalon stood back and watched as the rangers stepped forward and lowered to their knees before it. “Shall you join us?” Accalon looked up to see Cerulean eyes gazing at him in question. “I bow to no one, least of all the rulers of Arda,” he replied coldly, staring indignantly as the rangers bowed and whispered prayers towards the palace. The young elf, he appeared younger than Accalon, turned away slowly and joined his brothers in finishing the ritual. “We have properly finished,” he said simply. He then went on to explain. “When we immerse ourselves in the land of our brothers, it is only right that we return to the palace and show our respect. There is another activity we quite enjoy, though; one I believe shall interest you more.” “As intriguing as that sounds, I’m afraid I need to leave to...clean up,” Accalon replied distastefully, wondering why he had agreed to join this Ardaian in the first place. “Actually, we’d be heading to Thelde,” came the response. “Before we joined with Thelde and even now, we realize we know very little about the city’s people and customs. Therefore, we like to take a look at what they do.” Accalon raised his brow, slightly interested. Perhaps the Ardaians were crazy, mud-slappers, but they also seemed to be decent spies. “Only because I am heading that way,” he consented. “Besides, I don’t know the way out.” * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * Accalon walked down the stone hallway, the rising sun sending rays through the windows dotting the walls. His straight, jet black hair was swept up in the wind of his stride as he made his way toward the grand hall. Just the night before, it had been filled with people, music and laughter. The only sounds coming from inside now were those of the kings and queens politely chatting. Accalon had arrived home late after secretly watching Theldan citizens from the line of trees at the back edge of the city. He had been with the Elumi, and they traveled down the Syndal River till it was shallow enough to cross. Then they slipped into the shadows, and foolishly, these Ardaians showed him where they hid when spying on the people of Thelde. It was the kind of information that played right into his hands, should he ever decide to impart it to Captain Elros. Because of the Ardaians ritual of mud, land, and brotherhood, or whatever ruckus they had claimed, it took the prince hours to clean himself of the filth. As a result, he was late for their breakfast meeting. Not that it mattered, he was seldom the kind to be on time for anything. “There you are,” Queen Arryn said calmly, her long blonde curls and her dark blue eyes radiating in the sunlight. Even if they had been meeting in the darkest of nights, Accalon had a feeling his mother would still shine with the same beauty. It was a touching sentiment, one that he would never share with his mother; a mother who was trying so desperately to reach out. When Accalon didn’t reply, one of the servants stepped forward to fill the silence, pulling out a chair for the prince to sit next to his mother at her end of the table. All the servants, guards, and soldiers knew better than to seat father and son so close. “How kind of you to show up,” King Marik spoke, his cheery façade clumsily attempting to remain in tact. The day was just beginning and already her job was increasing in difficulty. “Now that we’re all here, it’s time for proper introductions,” Arryn interjected, hoping to cease any more words from her son or husband’s lips. “Well, you know Elros and Alderyn of course,” she began, signaling to the two figures seated on the same side of the table as Accalon. Fortunately, the strong captain sat between the fatal enemies. The second worst mistake of a servant would be to sit Alderyn and Accalon together. Shifting her focus to the other side of the table, Arryn introduced the King and Queen of Arda, Leandir and Rai. Accalon was sure he had seen them before, but the memory was distant in his mind. As his eyes momentarily met theirs, he couldn’t help but picture the sickening display of the rangers bowing in reverence before their palace. “Last but not least, their lovely children, the beautiful Princess Ryoko…” Accalon’s stiff expression eased a bit when he turned to face the daughter of Arda. Ryoko had long, flowing blonde hair, the fairest skin, and wonderfully, large hazel eyes. She did indeed encompass all that the word beautiful entailed. “…and the handsome Prince Daeron.” Accalon’s eyes were the deepest of black; the only detectable emotion that could be traced within the abyss of his orbs was the faint ashes of burning red within. When he turned his gaze toward the fellow prince, they glowed fiercely at what he saw. The same brown haired, brown eyed, formerly mud-covered, Ardaian sat near the end of the table. Instead of the plain, villagers’ garb and cloak he had donned last night, Daeron proudly wore the royal, dark greens robes of Arda. He sat across from Lady Alderyn, with King Marik seated at the very end. Accalon had never planned to see the stranger from Arda again, nor did he wish to once more prance in the mud and woods with the Elumi. He did not make friends, and he did not participate. So much for that. |
Daeron's eyes slipped open as he awoke, his breathing panicked and his hands clasping at the bedsheets yet he resisted the urge to scream out. As a child he had had countless nightmares, his mother forced to coo and fret over him night after night, yet with age his resolve hardened. With time he had learnt that with a harder bite of the lip or a tighter clenched fist he could quell the screams before they even started. Slowing his breathing and letting his eyes slide shut for a moment, Daeron threw off his bedsheets and raised himself out of bed, naked save for the mud and slick sweat that covered his body. Scratching the back of his head even though his hand still shook, Daeron yawned gently and began to walk toward his wardrobe. “Another nightmare?” “It was nothing.” Daeron replied, pullling on his long shorts. Turning around and walking back toward the bed, Daeron smiled tenderly and knelt down cupping the elf's face in his hand. “You should sleep.” Returning the gesture, the elf smiled before running their finger down his nose and laughing softly. “I do not feel like sleeping.” “Oh?” Daeron said, resting his chin on the mattress and staring into the elf's eyes, the corners of his mouth quirking into a smile. “What do you feel like doing?” The large eyes blinked, full of warmth before closing and turning away. “Spend one last morning with the elf that I love.” His smile instantly fleeing, Daeron's eyes flickered downward and he tilted back away from the bed, as he felt a pain within his breast more cutting than any nightmare. The elf leant out of the bed, their smooth torso dotted scantly in mud, and cupped Daeron's chin with a hand. “Do not be so sad, my Prince.” Daeron forced his eyes to meet his lovers, the bright sparkle that he saw there doing little to ease his spirits. “We both knew this day would come. The very first day that we met, do you remember?” Daeron laughed weakly and held the elf's hand in his own, raising it to his lips and kissing it tenderly. “Of course.” “All those years ago we knew it. Every time I have felt you, breathed in your scent and stole glances at you across the dining table... they've all been fleeting really, haven't they?” Pulling his lips from his lovers hand, Daeron's brow furrowed as he felt tears well in his eyes. “Please...” Tumbling out of the bed, the elf held Daeron, one arm snaking around his back and pulling him into an embrace as the other rested tenderly upon his thigh. “Oh Daeron.” The elf said, voice heady with emotion, “why do others not see this side of you?” Even as he cried, Daeron pulled away from his lover momentarily, staring into their eyes, and laughed softly through the tears. “My nakedness?” The other elf laughed musically and kissed him softly upon the lips, before pulling him back into an embrace. “Your tenderness. Your love of... love - and life.” Exhausted by the emotion, Daeron let himself sink into his lovers embrace who ably carried his weight. “These are your strengths, my Prince.” Composing himself, Daeron pushed himself up and out of the arms that held him, gently dabbing at his face with his hand. “I must leave, I have an early breakfast with the other rulers.” Wrapping the bed sheet around their waist, his lover smiled gently. “A breakfast at which I must also be in attendance.” Smiling weakly, Daeron turned toward back to his wardrobe to find his state attire. “Daeron.” Pulling on his state tunic, the Prince turned as the elf walked up to him. Smoothing the tunic down on his chest, their eyes were fixated on the buttons that they gently did up. “Today is the last day that we see each other. I'm leaving.” “To where?” Daeron said softly. “Does it matter, my love?” They replied simply. “If I were to stay, then it would be to the detriment of us both. Either Arthelara would suffer or the two of us would and I could not live with either. I know that you understand.” Pulling on his dress trousers quickly, Daeron bit his lip, his eyes searching the room wildly. The elf went to smooth out his tunic again, but the Prince stopped them, holding their hand softly. “I have to do it myself from now onwards.” Releasing their hand and putting his arm around their waist, he pulled them in for one last embrace. “We are equals. We always have been.” “I know.” “Have you enough coin for your journey?” “Yes. The Queen has seen to it that I have been well provided for, very generously for someone in my position.” Pulling away the elf locked eyes with Daeron. “She thanked me... for taking care of you. I think she has known for many years.” Feeling the sadness come upon him again, Daeron embraced his love again quickly before turning and quickly walking out of the door. “I love you.” Watching him walk out of the door, the elf sighed softly before slumping down on the bed, a whimsical smile upon their face. -------------------------------------------------- Breakfast was held in grand Theldian style, with a large dining table that had servants scurrying around on every side and all official dignitaries present. Sat opposite Lady Alderyn, this was the first real chance that he had had to talk with his betrothed. She was beautiful and an excellent conversationalist, although gazing upon her Daeron could not help but think back to what the Theldian had said the previous evening. He found it hard to believe that this well spoken lady was truly the viper that he had described. “There you are.” Cutting through the gentle conversation of the breakfast table, Daeron almost fell out of his chair as he turned to look at the person that Queen Arryn addressed so informally. Despite the darkness of the previous eve, the elf's haughty countenance and stiff bodily movements marked him as the Theldian that he and the Elumi had run with! Flickering his gaze to Ryoko by habit rather than will, Daeron was unsurprised to find her looking at him. With the slightest tilt of the head Daeron knew that she had spotted his momentary lapse of composure and by tilting her head gently, silently inquired as to what caused it. Flicking his eyes to the side, Daeron motioned that the explanation was more suited to a private conversation. With consummate grace Ryoko's features returned to their distant beauty, as though no exchange had ever taken place – and for most of the guests at the table, the only exchange had been formal introductions. Accalon was never formerly introduced as far as Daeron was aware, but the wave of tension that hit the room as he took his seat meant that he could only be the wayward prince. From his side of the table, the temperature felt positively icy. One by one he was introduced to the members of the table until it came to Daeron's turn. As his attention stiffly turned to him, Daeron felt Accalon's eyes burn like the twin suns of his nightmare and like the sun, he felt himself wanting cover from it. As breakfast progressed, Daeron shared glances between Alderyn and Accalon, but few noticed his gaze rest over of one his dining companion's shoulders at the one of the servants who busied themselves in the duties of courtly life. |
Alderyn took her seat at the breakfast table, waiting for all to arrive. The morning had dawned bright, and she had a feeling that today would be the last normal day that they had for a while. Combining two very different people under one banner always had a way of causing problems, both big and small. Looking around the table, she noted that everyone had arrived. The results were interesting to say the least. She watched impassively and took note as undercurrents flowed strongly through the room. Now that Accalon had kindly thought to join the rest of the official dignitaries, everyone that was needed was present. As Queen Arryn quickly started the introductions, no doubt to try and relieve the tension that came upon the king as soon as his son entered the room, Alderyn looked upon the faces of everyone around the table. One thing that she had always had a talent for was reading people, whether or not they were able to keep the emotion and expressions off their face. It was a useful ability to have in her position, to be able to read what people were feeling at the time. However, at this moment, she didn’t need to read the tension in the air, it was on the face of almost everyone in the room. King Marik’s face had flushed. He was most likely working himself up over his son, she thought dispassionately. Making the situation worse than it was in his mind because if there was a person who disliked Accalon more than Alderyn herself, it was the king. Turning her attention back to the queen as she spoke, Alderyn noted the desperate look in her eyes. As if she were giving everything she had to keep the peace between father and son. To prevent the fight that all knew would escalate to an all out war. Arryn’s eyes touched each face as she introduced those around the table to Accalon, but her gaze always moved back to her son and husband, as though she feared that one or the other, most likely the king, would interrupt her to lunge at the other’s throat. The tension throughout Accalon’s body eased slightly, she noticed with interest, and the stiffness in his expression softened as he gazed at Princess Ryoko. Intriguing. Definitely something that would prove beneficial to remember. He actually seemed charmed by the beautiful princess. Although she wasn’t sure if Accalon could, admittedly, be charmed. However, the dear prince could, apparently, be surprised. Though it was only a brief flash before he had his mask back in place, Alderyn was sure that she saw shock on his face. Though she might have missed the glimpse if she wasn’t watching so closely, his posture said everything. Accalon was truly surprised as he beheld Daeron. An interesting fact. One that brought her attention to the prince of Arda, whom she had recently taken an acute interest in, ever since the rumor of impending betrothals. Daeron was definitely harder, as if he had deliberately wiped the emotion from his face. He was physically present at the meeting and taking note of what was being said, but his mind, his heart, seemed to be in a different place. There was a certain resigned sadness about him, in the air and in his eyes. Alderyn could almost see the collision of emotion within him. It was an uncanny thing, to watch the conflict within him, almost as if she were interrupting in a private moment. She turned away, back to her breakfast, puzzled and somewhat annoyed with her reaction. She had no problem interfering with other people and their problems. It was what she did, and what she was good at, finding other people's vulnerable points and using them to her advantage. She concluded that, so far, Daeron had been nothing but kind to her. Therefore, it would only make sense for her to attempt to return the favor. As such, Alderyn decided to forget her momentary weakness. “What is your opinion on the matter, Alderyn?” Elros asked, interrupting her contemplations. She stared at him blankly, raising her eyebrows in question. “About the coming together of our two lands and people?” “Well,” she began slowly, collecting her thoughts and berating herself for not focusing on the meeting. “ The joining of our territories is and will be a great achievement, and the people of our lands are elated. However, I believe that there will be problems in the coming days. The differences in the citizens of Arda and Thelde will be an issue as both try to understand the ways of each other.” She stopped as a murmur of agreement went through those at the table. At this point almost everyone was finished with their breakfast. Alderyn looked at Elros, who nodded an encouragement. They had talked about bringing up the betrothals at this breakfast, as it was something that needed to be addressed. “Rumor of betrothals between the royal families has been heard. I have to say that I find such a suggestion to be an advantageous idea”, she looked questioningly at the kings and queens of both Arda and Thelde. Queen Rai smiled gently as she spoke and looked at her husband. “Yes, we have, indeed, decided that betrothals would be the most equitable way to lead the new kingdom.” King Leandir glanced at Marik and Arryn for acquiesce, then stated, “We have taken a lot of time to think this through, and we believe this is the best way. Two betrothals will be made in the joining of Arda and Thelde. Prince Accalon and Princess Ryoko, a son of Thelde and a daughter of Arda. And Prince Daeron and Lady Alderyn, a son of Arda and a daughter of Thelde. The joining of our people may be the last chance for the elves.” Alderyn kept her polite mask on, pleased and yet annoyed all the same. Glad for the announcement of her betrothal to Daeron, she tried not to let the itch of irritation that Accaolon was also betrothed get to her. A final announcement like that meant that he was back for good, and that was always a cause for upset. “We will be announcing the betrothals later in the week,” Queen Arryn said. Alderyn looked across the table and smiled at Daeron, who responded with a polite smile. Lifting her glass, she toasted , “To Arthelaria!” “To Arthelaria!” |
Ryoko lifted her glass, not letting her concerns be betrayed in any warbling in her voice. The conversation at breakfast had been tense at best. The king and queen of Thelde seemed jumpy every time their son spoke up or made any unexpected movement. Her brother was distant. Alderyn was similarly distracted. Accalon seemed angry and her own parents shifted uncomfortably, confined as they were behind the thick stone walls. Ryoko set her glass on the table again and picked a leftover grape from her plate, biting it in half as she thought over the expected announcement. When her brother rose, she quickly murmured her own excuses and joined him. Wordlessly, they both let their footsteps lead them along the shortest route to the outdoors. When no servants were in view, Ryoko slipped her arm through her brothers and squeezed it reassuringly. There was no mistaking the lingering sadness in his posture. She rested her head briefly against his upper arm, before straightening in the "proper way" of walking. Daeron set his large hand over hers, accepting her comfort in his silent way. A weight lifted from their shoulders when they finally stepped out into the open air. Ryoko let out a breath of relief, closing her eyes and tilting her face towards the open sky and the breeze. "I fear I shall never grow accustomed to this way of living," she whispered wistfully. "I shall grow old longing for the days when we would make mud cakes in the forests, free to hike up my skirts and run around in bare feet. I envy you, that." "Envy me?" her brother asked, only half-listening to her. She continued to talk, waiting for him to willingly turn his attentions away from his thoughts. "Yes. You still smell of dirt and trees. I can tell you ran with the Elumi. Unless you simply tripped over your large clumsy feet and fell into the mud." Her voice was gentle and teasing at the same time, trying to pry him out of his gloomy thoughts. He shot her a look, but there was a smile behind it. She returned the smile. "So, what was that look that passed between you and my newly betrothed this morning?" |
After his mother had finished the introductions, Accalon’s composure was rigid, and he remained distant from the conversations swirling around him. He overheard Alderyn’s nauseating voice floating in the air and thought it better to ignore her. However, King Leandir’s explanation of what was in store for Arthelaria’s elite troubled him greatly. A son of Thelde and a daughter of Arda. The idea of betrothals disturbed the young elf terribly. As if being confined to the life of royalty wasn’t enough, now his place in life was dictating who he would marry. Although her radiating beauty and calm demeanor were reminiscent of his own mother, Princess Ryoko was no more than a mere stranger to him. Accalon was not the kind to reach out to others, and he deemed it impossible that he should ever be ready to join someone in marriage. “To Arthelaria!” Alderyn toasted suddenly as she lifted her glass towards the Prince of Arda, the pride in her voice swelling greatly. When Prince Daeron politely returned the sentiment, Accalon’s jaw tightened as his hands gripped onto the arms of his chair. He felt such rage toward Lady Alderyn, and he highly doubted that Arda’s prince would heed his warnings about her. Because of his banishment, Lady Alderyn, to his dismay, would reign on behalf of Thelde. Although Accalon had never come to terms with the idea of being the King of Thelde, knowing he was now to become the King of Arda offended him greatly. He did not belong in the glades of Arda, and Lady Alderyn had no right claiming the title of Thelde’s queen. In his usual fashion, Accalon abruptly stood to leave, paying no mind to excuse himself or to say a polite goodbye. He was extremely displeased when his father’s voice rang out, interrupting his quick escape. “The announcement will be made shortly. You all will have until the end of the week to properly get to know each other on a more personal level,” King Marik said firmly. “I suggest that each of you take advantage of every spare moment.” “Yes, this is a difficult time for us all,” Queen Arryn began softly. “This is not an easy step in life to take. After the betrothals are announced, we shall begin the wedding plans. The sooner the sons and daughters of Arda and Thelde are joined, the sooner Arthelaria can begin to unite and grow.” Accalon had not turned back to face his parents, and wordlessly, he left. It seemed his parents had already decided everything that was to happen, so he had nothing left to say. After his absence, a silence grew thick in the grand hall, informing everyone that it was time to depart. * * * * * Another day was coming to a close as the sun slowly receded back into the horizon, taking its powerful radiance and warmth with it. In its stead, stars began to dot across the spacious black sky, and the moon peeked out over the edge of rainclouds heading towards Arthelaria. It seemed an almost ominous sign, as thunder rumbled in the distance and threatened to bring a downpour upon the city and the forest’s people. But for now, the rain held back, and Accalon sat silently outside, perched cautiously on the banister of his chamber’s balcony. His gaze swept over the sights before him. The Syndal River flowed freely down below, reflecting the dark evening sky above. A light breeze added to the chill of the night, though most of Arthelaria’s citizens were safely in their homes, many already tucked in their beds. But Thelde’s prince could find no rest. Instead, he quietly watched as four figures strolled across the bridge, returning from Arda and entering the city of Thelde. He sighed in disgust, realizing instantly who they were. His parents, as well as the king and queen of Arda, had suggested and even encouraged the betrothed to all mingle. And graciously, or rather curiously, the one who was not betrothed had volunteered to show Princess Ryoko and Prince Daeron around the city. It was almost a given that Lady Alderyn would be glued to her brother’s side. However, for many reasons, Accalon decided not to join in on Captain Elros’ tour. He knew Thelde inside and out. For him, there was little else worth knowing. Soon, he feared, his home would be in the forsaken palace of Arda. For a brief moment, Accalon was nearly grateful for the stone walls that had once sheltered him. “You should have joined them,” a soft voice wafted through the air. Accalon turned to face the familiar blue of his mother’s eyes. She stood by his side and watched as the figures below parted and went their separate ways. “This may seem like the hardest part,” she began, her hands gently grasping onto her son's, “but the truth is, it is far from it.” Carefully, she brushed the dark bangs from Accalon’s face to see his eyes. “Someday, you will be grateful to have Ryoko by your side. She will be good to you.” “It is not the princess I doubt,” Accalon said simply, not wishing to divulge any more. Arryn could clearly read the hesitancy and distrust that plagued her son’s features. It seemed unfortunate in her eyes that this was the only way she remembered her son. She rarely ever saw him convey emotions of a different kind. She gently leaned forward, placing a simple kiss upon his cheek. In the softest of whispers, she replied, “I know.” A brief silence hung in the air before she continued, “Get some rest, the announcement is tomorrow. Then the difficult part of this process begins.” |
Sprawling outward like stone tentacles, the ordered lines and stone symmetry of Thelde was at odds with the forest of Arda. The land was flattened and smothered, and the people were hemmed in along walkways and lanes, herded toward their destination. In many ways, both life in Thelde itself and within the royal court, seemed suitably matched. Thelde, of course, had its positives and compared to the human cities, from what he had gathered, was little more than a hamlet, but it made it no less daunting and alien to him. Although they were still little more than strangers to him, he found the presence of Alderyn and Elros comforting. The two of them effortlessly absorbing the stares of the assembled elves that lined the street and slowed their pace as the royal party walked by, although that may have because the stares seemed reserved for the children of Arda and the flank of guards that cocooned them further in. The small party advanced down the main street of Thelde, walking away from the stone wrapped palace and down the intricately constructed cobbles lined by some of the grander buildings the city had to offer. From his time with the Elumi observing Thelde, Daeron had learnt that this was the richest part of the city and Alderyn seemed to be leading them straight down and through what the elves of Thelde would no doubt consider the more well-to-do areas. Alderyn led the party with Daeron at her side, whilst Ryoko and Elros followed behind, with several of the more important dignitaries of the city gathered behind. Whilst it was always good to see other Elvenkind and coming to know the realm that he would come to lead, at least partly, was a necessary step, the merger of the realms was the least of the issues on his mind. “I take it Princess that Arda has many venerable merchant houses?” Daeron only half listened to the bullish elf that was bending his sister's ear, having kept a thoughtful silence for some time now and busying himself in his thoughts and in the faces and structures of Thelde. “Trade has been in decline since the other Elven realms have fallen and Arda could provide a much needed boost to the Theldian economy.” “Arda has no merchant houses as you know them, Senoi Arada.” Ryoko said carefully, slowing her pace a little and glancing backward to afford the merchant as full of her attention as possible. “But there are many crafts and skills that we possess. We make the most of what nature provides, ensuring that every last part of the soil or the tree is not wasted.” “I see.” The elf said, his face as crestfallen as his voice. “We do have quantities of amber from the caves east of Arda.” Ryoko offered up with a question in her voice. “Oh!” The elf said with renewed interest. “Amber is most desirable, Princess Ryoko. Perhaps you could honour me with a meeting with the...” “Arada, you have taken up quite enough of the princess' time for the moment,” Elros said starkly. “If you wish to discuss it further, I am sure that the Ardaian royals will be more than happy to facilitate a meeting with the relevant people.” “Of course Captain.” The elf replied just as curtly, before bowing deeply to the princess, causing the elves behind him to come to an abrupt halt, amidst a wave of surly mutters. “I apologise for pressing you during your state visit, Princess Ryoko.” “Not at all.” Ryoko replied with a warm smile. “I and...Prince Accalon...will mention your interests to the elders at the next opportunity.” Even Ryoko had difficulty with the mere mention of the wayward prince, even when his name had left her own lips, yet that same name produced a positively icy response from the others that were present. What was it about the Prince that courted such controversy, the same elf that had warned him against Alderyn, who had been perfectly polite and friendly toward Daeron? Whatever the truth of it, Daeron knew that there was more to him than the brusque character at breakfast and the arrogant stranger that he had run with just the other night. He had told Ryoko of Accalon and the night he ran with the Elumi, of how he had met him at the old pond and how they had spoken of Arthelaria. He found himself leaving out little details, such as his musings on Alderyn and his reaction to the symbol of honour that they showed his parents. But also subtler things, such as the way he spoke and the way that he moved through the trees in a manner that he had never seen before. “The prince certainly sounds interesting.” Ryoko said, her arm still looped casually through Daeron's. “Part of me thinks that he is dangerous.” Daeron said quietly, looking at the ground. “Dangerous?” Ryoko said, slowing her pace and forcing Daeron to follow suit. “I dreamt of him last night.” “Another nightmare?” “Yes.” Daeron said stiffly before continuing. “I don't remember it all exactly, but I remember his eyes. They were burning into me, but his gaze looked indifferent, almost... calm. Even though I could feel my skin catch alight, it was as though he did not know he was doing it.” Ryoko remained silent throughout Daeron's description, although her grip upon his arm tightened a little. “What do you think it means?” “Does it have to mean anything?” Ryoko breathed in deeply and gazed toward the forest of Arda, enjoying the feeling of the sun and the breeze upon her skin. “Even though you look like a son of Arda, you have our mother's blood. Your dream could mean anything.” “I think he could hurt you, Ryoko.” Daeron said, brushing her words aside. “He may not mean to, he probably would not, but it is as though something terrible follows him around.” Ryoko smled softly and stopped walking and turned to face her brother. “Do you remember the bear that we found in the forest, caught in that trap? It was howling and screaming in pain and I wanted to help it, but you told me not to and to go and get help.” “Yes, what of it?” Daeron said, glancing up at his sister. “When I returned with the Elumi, all we found was you, bloody and broken on the ground. We feared that you would not live to rule any realm, not in this lifetime anyway.” “I was foolish.” Daeron conceded. “But I do not understand, what has this to do with Accalon?” “Accalon is the bear, Daeron. He is hurt and confused and like any animal will lash out when he is in danger.” “You are the one to marry him.” Daeron said. “Perhaps you should take your own advice.” “I left the bear alone.” Ryoko said with a small smile. “Besides which, you have your own pain to deal with, don't you, my brother?” Even now that pain still bit at him, whenever he looked toward the glades of Arda, whenever he saw two lovers and whenever he looked at his betrothed. There was one more thing that Ryoko told him that morning as the two of them headed toward Arda, with her arm tenderly wrapped around his waist. Alderyn had a pain all of her own that bit at her and that she needed him as much as Accalon needed her. As if she had heard the thought, Alderyn turned to Daeron and smiled as they made their way slowly along the street. For Arthelaria, the future of the elves and Lady Alderyn, he would remain strong. He would have to put Accalon out of his mind. |
The high walls of the city of Thelde were intoxicating and suffocating all at once. The crowd of eager followers did not help Ryoko feel any more at peace. Despite the treaties that were in talks and the upcoming marriages, these people were not her people. She knew it was necessary to unite their people to survive in the world of humans that was to overtake the time when elves had been the dominant race. Her gaze slanted to the tall, commanding man at her side. In the months that the talks of peace between their people had continued, Ryoko had assumed her announced engagement would be to Elros. With that suspicion in mind, Ryoko had often sought him out when the talks became face to face, when Elros and Alderyn would journey to Arda with the king and queen, or when Daeron and Ryoko had accompanied their parents to Thelde. Her first impression of the Theldian captain had led her to believe he would never be happy in Arda. Watching him now, strolling confidently through the streets of Thelde's city, she knew it to be true. "Just how many people are in this city?" She asked the captain, hoping to urge him to speak. In their conversations before, she had learned that neutral topics were the best. Elros was silent for awhile. "I would say about three hundred thousand within the capital's walls," he finally said. "A large number of our people have fled to escape attack." "Who would attack?" The handsome captain frowned at her and a look of distaste settled over his features. Ryoko sighed and looked away. Elros blamed the humans. She frowned herself, thinking over the brief arguments they'd had. In an attempt to keep any future relationship settled, she had avoided pushing him too far. Now, however, she was speaking to a man who would soon be a subject, if not directly under her authority. "The humans are not so much of a threat as one might fear," she said softly. Elros's jaw clenched. "Not in small numbers. We could easily handle a force twice our own size if it came to that, but their numbers are ten times our own now, even with Arda and Thelde united." "They are not brutes. They were once, but they have grown and become a thriving people, with our aid," Ryoko pointed out. "Yes, they have wars, but that is only among themselves. They have no need or desire to come against us." "Perhaps not yet," Elros agreed, but he was not appeased. "But Man is greedy. Once they have taken all they can of Melyan peacefully, they will take the rest by force. They have already moved on the lands of other Elvish territory." "It was abandoned!" Ryoko protested. "You cannot hold that against them. We, ourselves, have taken over lands once abandoned by others. We are not evil or greedy because of it." Elros lowered his voice. "The streets are not a place for such a discussion," he murmured. Ryoko glanced guiltily at the crowd following them. A few of the merchants and nobility that had chosen to follow them were looking a little too innocent, as if they hadn't been listening in. Tilting her head just a bit, Ryoko flashed a brilliant, if very forced, smile at Elros. |
Accalon bit at his lip, repressing the hiss reverberating deep in his throat, as the steaming water poured over the fresh cuts on his hand. He stood leaning over the water basin on the nightstand in his chambers, tending to a recently self-inflicted wound. “Sire, what message shall I report to your fa-father?” The servant asked meekly, eyes trained on the remnants of blood staining the punctured stone wall. At the low grumble that escaped from the prince’s lips, he immediately revised the question. “—to the king?” After a careful pause, the compliant elf bravely added, “Prince Accalon, he is expecting your presence shortly.” A grave silence filled the air as a desperate expression of worry plagued the servant’s features. Finally, a heavy sigh indicated the prince’s reluctant response. “Ever since my banishment, King Marik has never sought a moment to see me, let alone speak with me,” Accalon said stiffly, roughly ripping a piece of material to wrap around his knuckles. “There is only one reason he would wish to do so now, and I will have no part of it.” “What shall I tell him?” The servant inquired one last time, his voice noticeably timid and tremulous as he stumbled back towards the doorway. “Inform him that I am endlessly aware of the past,” Accalon said attentively, his dark gaze glancing into the mirror that sat before him, “—hauntingly so.” With a slight nod of the head, the servant departed with little to no insight into the conflict between father and son. He was not alone in his confusion, as only one other knew what circumstances had led to the prince’s exile; the rest of Thelde’s citizens merely had rumor and suspicion to rely on. Finally alone, Accalon glanced down at the water basin, its white porcelain and clear water tainted by the red of his blood. He stepped back, turning away from it, only to see the aftermath of his fury on the wall. Standing silently, he watched as the dark red liquid seeped into the light grey stone, forever leaving its mark. Tonight the betrothals were being announced, and Accalon knew his father wanted to give him a lucid word of warning before the evening’s festivities commenced. He struggled, not sure whether to smile or grimace at the obvious fear and mistrust that King Marik held for him since the day of his exile. But as he stood, his onyx gaze glaring at the tarnished wall, he knew it was not him the king feared, it was the stain on the wall, the discoloring of the basin water. What King Marik feared—and by extension, what the people of Thelde should fear—was the one thing the dark prince could not control, the very blood that ran through his veins. * * * * * * * * * The footfall of Accalon’s steps was slow and steady as they echoed against the castle walls, contrasting greatly from the heaviness in his chest and the jagged breaths that escaped from his mouth. His ears were already being overwhelmed by the distant whispers and voices outside the castle. The sunlight was beginning to fade, but before Arthelaria was engulfed by the nighttime sky, its people would learn of important decisions regarding the recent union of Arda and Thelde. Accalon approached the final corner, his feet halting and refusing to bring him any further. Just ahead the leaders from both territories were seated on the grand balcony of the castle, having gathered together to make the announcement to the swarm of citizens below. He could picture clearly the way the princess’ hand was resting reassuringly on her brother’s forearm; he could hear the warmth and concern in his mother’s voice as she politely spoke with King Leandir and Queen Rai. He could easily imagine the way Alderyn and Elros were hunched together, last minute schemes spewing from their lips. But most of all, he could feel the anger, the disappointment, and the fear that welled up inside of the Theldian King as his eyes fretfully eyed the vacant seat among the royals. Accalon took a moment to carefully adjust his wound’s dressing, flinching slightly when he tightened it too much, causing the previously white material to turn slightly red. He clenched his jaw at the sight, inwardly grasping that this was the hand he had been dealt. He had once prided his independent nature, but the truth was that he had done very little to earn such an arrogant self-concept. His mother’s marriage to King Marik had made him a member of Thelde’s royal family, and his natural heritage initially caused the divide between the king and prince. Those were not aspects of his life he had control over. The truly singular decision he had made, the one self-governing action he had chosen, had led to his banishment. And yet, against his wishes, he found himself residing within the Theldian castle walls once more. Despite the choice he had made, the prince found himself standing a mere few footsteps away from what fate had wanted all along. Taking a heavy breath, Accalon stepped into the glow of the evening sun, his eyes quickly scanning for his seat—appropriately in between his mother and newly betrothed. Without a word, he offered his mother a blank yet soft glance as he seated himself, trying to ignore the fact that all noises had immediately died down when his presence had been noticed. Accalon could not bear to look at those seated next to him, nor could he risk looking into the eyes of the crowd, so instead, he fixated his attention on the bloodspot on his bandaged hand. His gaze remained there as King Marik’s voice rose and the announcement ceremony officially began. |
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