Bruín had never felt hurt as he did when he looked in his father’s eyes that moment. All of that bitter rejection, all that disgust, all the grief, disappointment and anger. He thought he could handle it. He thought he could firm, that in standing his ground he’d be forgiven as a proud, unflinching dwarf. But no. Nothing could have prepared him for being such a failure of a son.
He knew Eramdir’s ears would be tuned to the scene, even all the way from the living room. He was determined not to let his lover catch wind of his tears. “Did you not hear me?” Steeling himself, he spoke again. A wobble in his voice betrayed his uncompromising tone. “I’m in love with an elf, father. And with or without your blessing, I intend to wed him.”
(Eramdir belongs to Lamdiel)
