Six Realms: Chapter Twenty-Six
Pairings: Fricka & Hansel
Genre(s): Fantasy, Adventure
Description: Set in mock-medieval times. Two different breeds of elves co-exist within the Six Realms – Evanians are the descendants of the Old Ones and the Five Fathers, blessed with magery (the control of magic drawn from specific elements) – Devonians are the physically superior and mentally equal warriors that serve in the private armies and security of Evanian Highlords. Aurel, the heir to copious wealth following his father’s, the Highlord of one of the most prosperous Great Mage families, passing – the only condition is that in order to attain legitimacy and gain control of the family and its wealth, he must abide by his deceased father’s wishes and wed a Highborn lady. His only problem? He’s in love with another girl. Will their forbidden love triumph, or will they been torn apart by the forces at hand?
Hansel’s gaze swept over the weathered stone and the silvered beams that protruded like exoskeletons from the blackened, concrete flesh. Totersieg hall was the only lordly household that was not constructed of trademark sandstone and timber, instead favouring the steadfast fortitude typical of the Stahl realm. Despite its harsh, foreboding exterior, and despite having forsaken it in the name of his love, Hansel still called it home.
The sound of his elder brother’s approach resonated before he appeared, rebounding across the carved stone walls and echoing into the rising ceilings as he descended with all the refinement of a lowborn Lord awaiting the mantle.
“The prodigal son returns,” he said sarcastically, sauntering down the steps, surveying Hansel with a sweeping gaze. “Bow, brother.”
Hansel sighed, lowering to his knees and bowing his head as his elder brother approached. His hand carded through his hair, nails slicing lightly through his scalp as he lifted the leather necklace on one finger, a disapproving noise in his throat. Fricka’s glare could have burnt through metal, but she held her ground at Hansel’s side as Emmerich released the token, pushing his hair back to survey the brand at the base of his neck. The noise was distinctly more amused this time.
“A slave’s brand, brother?” he taunted, withdrawing, and Hansel raised his head. “I suppose it was only a matter of time.”
“I need your order to remove it, Emmerich,” Hansel reminded him, coming to his feet. “I won’t be hunted in my own house. Even disgraced, you can’t wish that upon me.”
“What would Father say?” Emmerich tutted, summoning an attending servant.
“What does it matter?” Hansel ground out. “Make your own decision.”
The elder brother sighed with eternal patience. “Send for a healer,” he instructed the servant, heading into Totersieg hall. Hansel followed at a steady pace behind, sure to give him room as they stepped across the flagstones in muted awe.
The arching beams of the ancient hall floated overhead, borne on stale air and the whispers of long-dead men. Ahead of them rose the dais, and upon it, the Totersieg shrine – a monument to the sacrifice given by their forefathers in the second crusade. The steels of their boots rang on the hollow floors underfoot as Emmerich drew to a halt, admiring the green and black hues of their family banner.
“In passing the time, would you care to remember the story of Sehen and Versteck?” he murmured pleasantly.
“The Tale of Two Brothers?” Hansel reiterated, mildly surprised. It was the most famous story of these halls – at least amongst its occupants.
“What story?” Fricka demanded, unsure.
“Versteck Frischweise was the elder of three years to Sehen Frischweise, of sixteen years,” Emmerich introduced without turning around.
“They’re our ancestors,” Hansel muttered. “Both lowborn lords with considerable shows of magery. The younger, Sehen, more so; he was a skilled telepath.”
“What do they have to do with anything?” Fricka inquired.
“The two brothers often played in the grounds around what is now Totersieg hall,” Hansel continued, meeting her silver gaze. “Sehen loved to play hide and see. Versteck would hide in the timber forests that bordered the halls, and Sehen would hunt for him. Only, one day, Sehen didn’t find him. When the sun began to set, Versteck came out from his hiding and returned to the halls. The servants informed him that they hadn’t seen Sehen since he’d left with Versteck.”
“He’d been sold,” Emmerich supplied, in answer to Fricka’s unspoken query. “Slave traders had come through the forests that morning and taken him. Versteck grew very worried in his absence, and before long, their parents died of broken-heartedness.”
“The story doesn’t say that,” Hansel contradicted scornfully.
“What else could it have been?” Emmerich countered lightly, and Hansel scoffed, but did not further the issue. “Regardless, Versteck came into command of the household, but there had been no sight or sound of Sehen in nearly a full year.”
“Sehen, on the other hand,” Hansel provided confidently, “had come to be hated by his new masters. He proved difficult to contain, with such talented magery. Not only that, but he had a sharp wit and a sharper tongue, and refused to comply with their simplest orders. In a fit of rage, the masters had his tongue cut from his mouth, as punishment for his disobedience. When he still refused them, they sold him into the hands of Kriede.”
“Kriede was a cruel man, and his family still bears his temperament in their reputation, to this day,” Emmerich said. “Sehen was beaten into submission, and when his stubbornness prevailed past broken bones and bloody bruises, Kriede dragged him to the lowborn Lord’s halls, to request his execution.”
“The lowborn Lord…” Fricka murmured.
“It was Versteck, yes,” Hansel said with a small smile. “Kriede brought the slave on his knees to the foot of Versteck Frischweise’s dais and entreated that the slave be hung for his crimes. Versteck considered; it was law at the time–”
“Versteck didn’t recognise his brother?” Fricka demanded incredulously. “He intended to kill him?”
“He had been beaten,” Emmerich explained quietly. “His face was unrecognisable, and without his tongue, he could not call out to his brother for mercy.”
“But Sehen wasn’t one to beg mercy,” Hansel said confidently. “He still had his magery, and he recognised his brother immediately. As his brother paced and considered his fate, Sehen drew on his talents, drawing into his brother’s thoughts, and said, ‘I have found you, brother.’”
Emmerich exhaled with a pleased smile, meeting Hansel’s gaze. “After all those long months, he had never stopped searching for his brother, nor his brother for him.”
Hansel rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so sentimental, brother. You always call the moral before the story ends.”
“Then, please,” Emmerich said, his tone laced with derision, “tell us the fantastic ending.”
“Versteck ran to his brother, drew him into his embrace,” Hansel continued, and Emmerich nodded slowly. “He ordered for his brother to be healed and cared for, and when he was well again, he ruled at Versteck’s side, the two brothers as equals.”
Emmerich snorted. “Are you really going to withhold your favourite detail?”
“Versteck had Kriede flogged,” Hansel added with a grin, “and sold him into slavery, to live out the life he had forced upon others.” At his brother’s disapproving tut, Hansel continued, “So I like a bit of revenge. It’s a balance, is it not?”
“You are always more interested in the revenge than the moral, Hansel,” Emmerich said, surveying him with a steady hazel gaze. “But at least you can recognise parallels.”
“You think me the embodiment of our ancestor?” Hansel snorted cynically, his brows rising.
“You do bear striking similarities,” Emmerich murmured lightly, not bothering to hold his gaze. “The stubbornness and the disobedience of Sehen… with a proclivity for running off into slavery.”
“I must have misheard,” Fricka said sweetly, and Emmerich’s gaze flashed with muted fear. “Would you care to repeat that last piece for me, sage?”
“And I suppose you see yourself as Versteck?” Hansel cut in mockingly. “Though I suppose you certainly have a common tendency to neglect your siblings when you come into power.”
“On second thoughts, you stray far from Sehen in areas,” Emmerich said thinly. “Nowhere near as clever or talented. You didn’t even manage to get yourself home on your own merit.”
“If you disapprove of my wife,” Hansel warned him, “then by all means let her prove herself. I’m sure she’d love to drop you on your pompous ass.”
Emmerich chuckled. “You never did respond well to hospitality, did you, brother?”
“Hospitality is never freely given,” Hansel muttered. “It’s always an unspoken request for goodwill. Affluence will only be used to constrain you, coerce you, compel you. Sehen refuted that authority, and he overcame it.”
“Minus a few teeth and straight bones,” Emmerich reminded him. “He suffered for his disobedience.” Emmerich hesitated, as if unsure whether he wanted to utter his next words. But he glowered, pursing his lips before he half-snarled, “And he left his brother to go through hell in his absence.”
Hansel’s brow rose in surprise. “Left his…?”
“Hopefully,” Emmerich said pointedly, trying not to blush with anger and embarrassment, “Sehen learnt that responsibility suited him best, and learnt that family is strongest when forces are joined.”
“Hmm,” Hansel murmured, appraising him. “It’s fortunate that we do not bear the traits of our ancestors, isn’t it, brother?”
Emmerich glared. “He would have accepted you back, if you had come remorsefully–”
“A good father would have accepted me back without condition,” Hansel snapped. “He used his affluence to bribe me, and I had no remorse to give him.”
“And now?” Emmerich inquired. “You’re married; he cannot abolish your union. You’ve travelled the Realms, as you wished. You have accomplished all you set out to when you disobeyed him. Now you come to his doorstep with a slave’s brand on your neck,” Emmerich said with disgust, not directed towards him, but to his predicament, “weaponless and poor, and you all but beg my kindness. Hansel,” he breathed, and there was concern in his tone when he spoke. “I am your family. This is your home. Your place is here, by your brothers’ sides.”
“And Fricka? What place does my wife have?” Hansel reminded him.
Emmerich made an impatient noise in the back of his throat, throwing his hands into the air. “I’m not going to convince you to stay, Hansel,” he said, with a hint of irritation. “I’ve given you more compassion than is due on my part, and received none on yours. Find your own wife a place; I will not sacrifice my position defending you. If you want to return – with your wife – then I advise you to beg Father’s forgiveness, or failing that, plead sanctuary.”
“You think Father will grant me that?” Hansel said dubiously.
“I have already put far too much effort into correcting your mistakes,” Emmerich snapped. “I shouldn’t be wasting my time on someone so clearly ungrateful.”
Hansel narrowed his eyes, suddenly curious. “Are you married?”
Emmerich looked taken aback. “What?”
“Are you married,” Hansel repeated clearly, watching his expressions closely. “Father wanted me to wed a Lowborn Lady; I refused him. You said you were correcting my mistakes. Did you marry?”
Emmerich blushed, and Hansel’s smile grew. “It’s not–”
“Who was it?” he demanded playfully. “I can’t imagine the Schmutzleben girl would be your type. Someone from the Wasser Realm, then? Or the Blesse girl – she’s your age, isn’t she?”
“It was an Eisen,” Emmerich stammered, his ears beginning to turn pink. He straightened his coat, shuffling his feet to avoid having to meet Hansel’s gaze.
“Finte Eisen?” Hansel said, surprised. “I didn’t think she was your type. Moreover, I didn’t think you were her type–”
“Not Finte,” he said sharply, glancing down at his wrung hands.
“Macht,” he said, almost too quietly for Hansel to hear.
Hansel blinked, spectacularly taken aback. “M-Macht Eisen?” he confirmed, finding his voice. “But… oh my god.” Laughter built in his throat until he couldn’t contain it.
Emmerich glowered. “Really?”
“I’m sorry,” Hansel said between chuckles. “I’m just trying to imagine you and him.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Emmerich snapped defensively. “He’s intelligent, perceptive – has more manners than you’ll ever have.”
“I just didn’t pick you as…” Hansel said, and snorted. “Are you betrothed?”
“Engaged,” Emmerich muttered.
“How did father take it?”
“Fine,” Hansel said, unconvinced. “Whatever you say. When’s the ceremony?”
Emmerich eyed him doubtfully. “Two weeks’ time. Why?”
“Good to know,” Hansel said, and turned on his heel, Fricka following calmly. A small, understanding smile tugged at her lips.
Emmerich’s tone was tinged with concern as it followed him down the echoing expanse of the hall. “Where are you going?”
“To apologise to Father,” he called back with a grin. “I want to see this.”