#cedrickholtstories

[cedrickholtstories]

“27 Years”

“I didn’t fall in love with you.

I walked into love with you,

with my eyes wide open,

choosing to take

every step along the way.

I do believe in fate and destiny,

but I also believe

we are only fated

to the things

we’d choose anyway.

And I’d choose you;

in a hundred lifetimes,

in a hundred worlds,

in any version of reality,

I’d find you

and I’d choose you.

Happy Birthday, Venreena, my darling.

I love you.”

“Simple, I know.” Cedrick said as he watched Venreena open and read the letter. Ven looked up at him with beaming amber eyes after studying the contents within. He smiled gently at his wife and offered her a wink, “Happy Birthday, my darling.”

[ @venreenaholt​ ]

[cedrickholtstories]

Cedrick William Holt

BASICS

full name: Cedrick William Holt

pronunciation: Sed-r-ick

nicknames: Ced

height: 5′11

age: 30

zodiac: Libra

languages: Common, Thalassian. Knows basics in gnomish, dwarvish, Darnassian, Pandaren, orcish.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

hair colour: Chocolate (Dark brown)

eye colour: Emerald

skin tone: White

body type: Athletic, muscular

accent: Stormwind human

dominant hand: Either

posture: Straight, casual

scars: A few here and there

tattoos: None

most noticeable features: His eyes and his smirk

CHILDHOOD

place of birth: Grand Hamlet (now known as Duskwood)

hometown: Silkwood Grove (not really a “town” though.)

birth weight/height: Uhhh, normal?

manner of birth: Labored

first words: “Ma”

siblings: @jacob-holt @allisianaholt

parents: Allistair Holt and Janis Holt

parental involvement: Abusive, strict, cold, high expectations.

ADULT LIFE

Occupation: Counter Intelligence (On leave, sort of)

Current residence: Kul Tiras

Close friends: @edwinxerathi , Colt Young 

relationship status: Taken, married

financial status: Very wealthy

Vices: Occasionally smokes tobacco, drinks a bit too much

SEX & ROMANCE

sexual orientation: Hetero

romantic orientation: Hetero

preferred emotional role: submissive | dominant | switch | unsure

preferred sexual role: submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed | unsure

libido: Fairly high. Sometimes too much so? Is that such a bad thing?

turn ons: Teasing, taking control, and others that need not be mentioned.

love language: Less masks more honesty. Endearing teasing. Sweet gestures

relationship tendencies: Before Venreena, he didn’t really have “relationships”

MISCELLANEOUS

hobbies to pass the time: People watching, cooking, reading, watching his children, training

mental illnesses: PTSD

physical illnesses: None currently

left or right brained: kind of in the middle?

fears: Losing loved ones, losing his sense of self, failure

self confidence level: Annoyingly high

vulnerabilities: Venreena, his children, his family (close family, no others)

Tagged by: @unabashedrebel

Tagging: @venreenaholt @jacob-holt @allisianaholt @seaandsails @the-three-girls-channing and everyone else who would like to do this!

[cedrickholtstories]

“Loss”

Cedrick swirled the glass of whiskey about. The sounds of ice and liquid rang through his ears over the dim, dying, and crackling fire that he sat before. His free hand tossed forward a piece of crumbled parchment to stoke the flames. The Duke of Ravenshire found himself in the same spot rather frequently as of late. Ever since his son was born, he had been trapped inside of his head, far more than usual, contemplating his recent actions. As a father and as a husband. 

Two of the most important things to him in the world, now three, he nearly let slip through his fingers, merely because of selfish desires. Ones that he justified by saying, “I have no choice.”, “I must see this through, for my brothers in arms, because I am a man of honor.”, people that he truly did not care for. Not truly. There was absolutely no one in all of Azeroth that he loved and cared for more than his wife and children, yet he put everything he could before them. For reasons that were unknown to even Cedrick himself. 

All of his life, despite his upbringing in a rich noble family, Cedrick had experienced nothing but loss. Such experiences stained his very being for the rest of his life, such traumatic experiences scarred him, just as they would anyone else. 

The loss of his mother, the hatred that his father bore toward him, the loss of his mentor and true father figure, the negativity that the rest of his family still bear toward him to this day, the loss of his best friend at the hands of the horde, his time in the field of war, his abduction by his wife’s former employer, and countless other memories. 

They all have something in common. They pale in comparison to even the thought of having lost Venreena, Olivia, and Elijah.

Cedrick handles himself daily, he copes with what he has gone through, just as everyone does. He has his brother, sister, wife, and children all there to help him through, just as everyone has something that helps. But if he were to lose three of the most important people in his life. Two of his blood and the only woman he has ever and will ever truly love? It would break him.

So there he sat, as he contemplated the thought of losing Venreena and his children, and there he sat, as he vowed to himself that he would never leave them again. 

No matter what.

[ @venreenaholt @jacob-holt @allisianaholt @holtandthornetradingco ]

[cedrickholtstories]

“A Donation.”

Cedrick felt the rough ground beneath him as he was dragged across it. His clothing was now ripped and tattered, and his head was covered by a black linen sack. He had no sense of direction, and was barely able to keep himself awake. Whomever this was had already beat him once to accomplish these things, and he had the feeling there was much more to come.

After a few more long moments of nothing but clanking armor and dragging, they came to a stop. The two men tugging Cedrick along held either arm, one on each side. From inside his sack he heard, “We got ‘em. Open up.” No more words, only what seemed to be like a thousand locks and the creaking of a massive metal door that was being opened.

The dragging resumed, as did the talking, “Admiral Wolfe is gunna be pleased, mates. Ye’ nabbed a good one. Venreena’s bitch.” The men all laughed out, very loudly at that. Their conversation continued on throughout the duration of their walk, until finally they reached what seemed to be the end of their journey. At least for the time being. Both men dropped Cedrick’s arms and one turned to kick him in the back of the head. The nobleman grunted and then fell completely to his back, head thudding to the stone ground.

“Admiral,” One of the men greeted. There was silence for what seemed like at least five minutes to Cedrick, when in reality it was mere seconds.

“Good evening, Alder.” Presumably Bronson responded. Blackhowl snickered quietly, “We have retrieved one better than what you asked for,” he sneered. The Admiral turned, or at least Cedrick assumed he did by the sounds of boot on stone. “Oh?” He questioned, “..and who exactly did you bring me?” The man’s voice sounded out. It grew closer with each step and word.

“Cedrick Holt,” Alder said, a clear tone of pride intertwined with his words.

“Is that so?” Bronson questioned. By this time, it was clear to the nobleman, even with his ever so present daze that the man was right beside him. Within that moment, the bag was ripped from his head, revealing Cedrick’s bruised and busted face. He looked exhausted, yet his will was not broken, nor would it be.. not without much more work.

A knee was taken by Wolfe. He took the Holt’s face in his hands, turning his head each and every way, as if looking for something specific. A sigh escaped the pirate’s lips, “Tie him up. Hang him from the X... and retrieve my plated glove.” He pushed Cedrick’s head from his hands, causing him to knock his head back against the stone again, and forcing yet another grunt from the nobleman. The pirate reached to pull a gnomish device from his enemy’s ear. He spoke into it, “The Anchor thanks you for your donation.” It was then immediately crushed in his palm and tossed to the stone in small bits. 

Cedrick stared up at Bronson with his weak eyes, but he didn’t speak. He knew better than to speak.  “You and I,” Wolfe said, a smirk resting on his lips, “..we have much work to do.” Bronson said as he replaced the black sack.

Before he knew it, the rogue was tied up from this “X” they were speaking of, and mere moments after that....

CRACK!

....CRACK!....

CRACK!

(( mentions: @venreenaholt @holtandthornetradingco @householt @levvnightfall ))

(( others involved: @rian-kestavin @adhelin @alliesweetsong-wra @jacob-holt @lorraine-lemieux @vladimirbaustent @alexkestavin @alexinathorne @elizebella any others I missed. I don’t have a lot of your tumblrs. ))

[cedrickholtstories]

“Day 1”

He awoke to the sack being torn from his head, the bright beams of morning sunlight beating down on him. Cedrick barely opened his eyes. He almost couldn’t anyway due to the swelling. Through his blurred vision, he saw three men standing before him. One familiar. He knew the shape, and what little of this character’s features he could recognize. The other two were foreign to him. He had seen them last night, for a mere second, otherwise? This was the first “decent” look he was getting at them. 

“Cedrick, Cedrick, Cedrick.” Began the middle man, the one whom the nobleman then confirmed to be Bronson. His voice was all too distinct. “I told you we had much work ahead of us..and unlike your whore, I do not lie.” The Admiral sighed quietly, “..I am disappointed that you were not awake and ready for our grand day. Give me my gauntlet.” The man snapped to his two henchmen. The one of the left quickly strode over to a nearby table, holding in his hand a leather glove. One that had metal knuckles imbued into it.

Cedrick said nothing... and he wouldn’t, unless he absolutely had to. He just stared at them, his breathing heavy due to the amount of blows he had received the night before. 

Bronson turned to face the figure who had brought him his glove, “Thank you, Alder.” He said as he slipped it onto his hand. “Now then. Where did we leave off?” Without another word, the pirate stepped forward and delivered a blow to Cedrick’s abdomen. 

A weak cry and wheeze escaped Cedrick’s lips upon impact.

“You know, this could have been avoided. If the bitch would have just revealed herself. Now look what she has gotten you into?” Yet another blow was delivered to Cedrick’s stomach. He coughed and gasped for a breath as he felt the hard metal force itself into his skin in a swift and harsh blow. The nobleman fell a bit more forwards with that one, but despite the struggle, did not stay this way for long. He would do whatever it took to not give Bronson the complete satisfaction of breaking him. 

“What more do I need to do to show you the error of your ways? What more do I need to do to get you to see how terribly vile you, your wife, your family, and your company are?” A third and fourth blow were both delivered to his stomach, one after the other. The force was just as harsh, and such force caused Cedrick to puke. But despite this, he did not waver. He stayed as composed as he could, even after it all. His breathing was labored and wheezing, and his very being was in complete and utter pain, but he held his head as high as he could.

“Pathetic.” Bronson murmured as he delivered one last blow, this one with his bare fist to the side of Cedrick’s head. 

Then there was nothing. Simply black.

((mentions: @venreenaholt @levvnightfall @adhelin @kaideholt @cordeliaeresholt @jacob-holt @allisianaholt @householt (there are plenty more family members, i just cant think right now.) @askdonttell @alliesweetsong-wra @alexkestavin @rian-kestavin @lorraine-lemieux for other Holts and @holtandthornetradingco people! ))

[cedrickholtstories]

“A matter of Importance.”

Cedrick finished the letter, stamped it, and sealed it off. “Gerard!” the nobleman called out, “Have the runner boy send this to Addlewood or where ever Adehlin is immediately.” 

He handed the rolled, sealed, and tied piece of parchment over to his butler. Gerard took it and bowed, “Yes, Your Grace. Immediately.” And without another word, the older gentleman strides from the room, off to send the letter.

The contents of the letter were rather simple, yet not likely something Cedrick’s cousin would take kindly to.

It read..........

“Adhelin,

I write to you this evening to call you to Silkwood. We have a matter of utmost importance that needs to be discussed. Should you accept, I will be awaiting your reply that will come with the date that you will arrive. 

Until then, cousin.

(( @householt @adhelin for mentions. ))

[cedrickholtstories]

“The Coward”

Alistair treaded toward Janis and seven year old Allisiana. He teetered slightly as he walked, and wreaked of wine, an indication that he had been drinking. It was not the first night, and it certainly would not be the last. “Come here, bitch!” he yelled at his wife. The woman had obviously been crying, much like the nobleman’s daughter behind her, tear marks stained their cheeks. Behind the drunken man laid young Cedrick. 

The boy was merely fifteen years old. He looked broken, defeated. Yet, his hands pressed against the cold hard floor in attempt to push himself up. He was weak, but desperate.. and this certainly wasn’t their first round. Blood poured from his mouth and nose like a river, his face was bruised, and his clothes were tattered, as well soaked in blood.

“You fucking coward!” The boy managed to yell out, the words slightly muffled due to the liquid that drained profusely from his mouth. That same blood had been pooling on the floor. By this time, he had managed to stand up, despite how lightheaded he felt. “It’s me you want!” Cedrick stumbled a bit to his left, barely staying upright as he did so. 

The boy’s father turned around, “You little shit. What did you call me?” Alistair snarled in his son’s direction.

Cedrick opened his mouth to speak, more blood flowing, yet he spoke on, “Coward.” he spat out.

The nobleman growled in return, only to speed toward the boy. Once he was there, he let his left fist fly. A hard blow to the side of the head, such a strike that sent Cedrick to the ground and groaning.

CRACK, THUD!

“NOT SO TOUGH NOW ARE YOU, BOY? GET UP! GET UP YOU WORTHLESS, WASTE OF A SON!” Alistair barked, only to then deliver a kick to the boy’s side.

“AND YOU CALL YOURSELF A HOLT!” He continued, his tone growing ever more degrading.

“..more...” Cedrick spat out yet another river of blood as he waned in and out of consciousness, “..more of a man.. than.. you’ll ever be...”

Alistair’s eyes glared down at his son and his face wrinkled into a snarl, “Why you...” The man fell to his knees, then released a flurry of fists to Cedrick’s face. 

Crack, CRACK, crack, CRACK...

One after the other. Janis and Allisiana weeped quietly in their corner, knowing well enough if they made a sound that Cedrick’s sacrifice would be in vain.

Crack, CRACK, crack, CRACK...

CRACK!

Cedrick jerked upright in his bed, “GAH!” He cried out, sweat pouring from his body, his breathing labored and his eyes wide. The Lord gulped as he looked around, realizing that it was nothing more than a dream. He laid there, ever so gently shaking, still feeling rather overwhelmed by what he had experienced. His emerald hues then drifted over to Venreena’s sleeping form. Cedrick could not help but smile, sadly so. 

He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to the side of her head before pushing himself from underneath the covers and off of the bed. Gentle steps led him to the balcony where he would stare out at his estate’s lands. His lightly trembling hands rested on the stone railing as he stared out at the nothingness before him. 

[ @venreenaholt @allisianaholt for mentions. ]

[cedrickholtstories]

“Let You Down”

A link for the perfect music for this little drabble...

Yet another night of putting Venreena to bed early. She was slowly running out of energy with every passing day, and each night this left him alone and in his own thoughts. Perhaps a good thing, yet at the same time, not so much.

Before he left the room, Cedrick looked to his dresser, eyes set on a specific drawer. It drew him in, per usual. Whatever was inside clearly held something over him. With a sigh, the Duke strode over to the piece of furniture and opened the section he was staring at. Inside, among his various tunics was a small box. 

A black jewelry box with a silver medallion on the front that read, “A.H.”

Subtle fingers reached inside and carefully pried open the box, only to reveal a comb. One that was beautiful, yet clearly old. It was a faded silver body that was encrusted in rubies.

Cedrick stared down at the piece, his digits slowly running over the contents. After a moment, he lifted it up, allowing it to settle in his palm. Those emerald orbs scanned over the beautifully crafted comb, taking in each and every detail. It certainly wasn’t the first time he had done so, and it wouldn’t be the last.

With the blink of an eye, there he was. The furthest back he could remember.

Little Cedrick sat in his mother’s chambers, flopped over the right arm of her loveseat, watching the comb run through her beautiful dark brown hair. He adored her, even from a young age, and loved her more than she would ever know. The same could not be said for her.

And just like that, he was back, staring endlessly down at the jewelry. His trembling thumb brushed over the large ruby in the middle. So many thoughts flooded back to him in that moment, so many memories. Memories that he did not care to recall. 

“Why did you not care to help me, mother? Why must you be so disappointed in me? I tried. I did.” he muttered, his voice quivering, much like his hand was, “..and I’m trying. I am, truly.” Cedrick said, only to pause and close his eyes. A few tears trickled down his cheeks, “They won’t listen. My hands are bound.” he continued, “..perhaps father was right after all.”

“I’m sorry, mother. I let you down.”

[ @venreenaholt for mentions, and @householt for a brief mention. ]