Bleis fell from one fever dream to another. He couldn’t say if he was awake or not, he saw faces from the past, his father telling him to grow up, and his brother laughing at him for his childish dreams. Then he woke up, or at least he thought he woke up. Eroel was screaming and cursing at him. More dreams followed nightmares and memories that had not haunted him for years but now are returning to him. Someone gave him water, and the dream continued, his old teacher telling him about Elysia, the land of the elves where war never ended, and young Bleis starting to dream of glory. Idealism and legends meeting disappointment.
When he finally opened his eyes, he could not believe he was awake or alive. The surrounding made no sense to him, and Bleis couldn’t remember how he got there. It appeared he was in a single room of a house. He was lying on a bed. Across from him were a chest of drawers, a table with two chairs in the center, and a few counters serving as a kitchen with various jars on top. No decoration to speak of, only items that had purpose. He tried to get up, but sharp pain cut through his abdomen, and he barely moved just a few inches.
He felt soft fingers on his damp skin and turned to his left. The dark room and his tired eyes must be playing tricks on him. Next to Bleis was a woman with long black hair falling over her shoulders, her skin was the pale, almost white color of night elves, and her big purple eyes were locked on him. He must be dead because wherever Eroel had dragged him, he couldn’t imagine a creature like that existed.
“Are you a ghost…” Bleis barely said as his throat was so dry, it hurt talking.
Full story on Wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/1300570487-blood-and-bones-fever-dream-bleis
AHHHHHH guys i cannot stress ENOUGH how much i love this piece. This was a commission done by @veari , someone who continues to show me how AMAZING she is, not only as an artist but as a person as well. The image itself is of my Worgen druid Seleina and my Night Elf mage Yleria, two characters that, while not my oldest characters irl, are the OC pairing that are the oldest in my HC. and HOLY SHIT did Veari knock this one out of the park. I never even ASKED for those beautiful flowers, she did that herself, but just that little detail honestly makes the drawing 1000X better!! The image itself was just supposed to be them posing for their wedding painting, and it is just so good!
This is perhaps one of my favorite commissions she’s done, it’s so amazing. If any of you are ever on the lookout for an amazing artist who is not only dedicated but hugely creative, look no further (that is when she opens her comms XD)
Seriously, i know i gushed over my last commission but by God i am LIVING for this art, thank you so much Vi, you’re amazing! :D
"My lady, this is a terrible idea." Gareth wondered where the knife had come from. They had not searched her, which probably was stupid. His arrogance was going to get him in trouble now.
"Terrible? The way I see it, this idea could solve my problem and many others." As soon as she finished, he grabbed her wrist. Gareth was significantly stronger and faster than her. Aya was smart. He gave her that, but people have been pointing blades at him since he had learned to walk. He twisted her wrist in a way that made the knife fall in the snow, and he used his legs to trip her, making her fall on the snow, and he followed after her. She struggled, but Gareth pinned her wrists with one hand and reached for the blade with the other pressing it against her elegant neck.
"My father always used to say that you should not pull out a weapon unless you are sure you can win the fight." She tried to kick him, but he used his weight to block her legs.
"Did he say that before or after he raped your mother?" Gareth stared at her for a second, pulling the knife from her throat away. It wasn't her words that offended him. He had been hearing that insult from night elves since he was a child, but something in the way she said it stung, despite the fact he knew it wasn't true. "Are you about to follow his example now? I thought screaming and struggling did do it for you. Or perhaps you hope I will keep it down out of fear your men could hear."
"If you had not pressed that knife against my throat, my lady, we both would be walking back to the house now as if we were friends." He shifted his weight a bit, allowing himself to get up, but did not let go of her wrists, pulling her after himself. "I don't need you to have your hands free for the rest of that journey, and I don't think you have ever had a rope around your wrists, but it doesn't feel nice, and we have two more days of riding. I also don't need you to open your mouth. I can keep you gagged and draped over my horse until we make it. I will pretend whatever just happened didn't happen, and you will behave."
Gareth wasn't a merciful man, but he was tired of that. Night elves were looking at him as if he was evil reincarnated. He was aware of what she believed. He would kill her or worse. He would parade her down the streets of the capital or worse. None of that was on his mind. He wanted to be home and let his brother deal with her. He would probably give her nice quarters in the castle and keep her away from danger.
Aya's purple eyes stared at him in anger, but eventually, she nodded in agreement. He slowly let go of her wrists, expecting she would try to kick him, but nothing happened. Another moment passed, and he began walking with her to the house.
"Was it all an act? The fear?" Gareth had to ask.
"If I were not terrified of you, I probably would have succeeded." She said after a while. He could argue with the point, but he had seen her hand shaking as she attacked him, which helped him resolve the situation faster. It was an act of fear, not malice.
When they returned to the cabin, Aya walked to the only available corner and curled herself under his cloak. The rest of his men were skinning and cooking rabbits. Lleu was the only one missing, as he was with the horses.
"Must be weird being wrapped in the clothes of the person you just tried to kill," Einar said as he stepped beside Gareth. "I almost pity her. From all the people in the world to end up your prisoner. You were going to kill her mad husband after all and probably her in the process two years ago."
"You saw it?" Gareth had not heard him or seen him being nearby. Then again, Einar could sneak unnoticed.
"I did. Frankly I was hoping just for confirmation of my imagination." He grinned, and Gareth just shook his head. "I'm surprised you didn't see it coming."
"I didn't think she was stupid enough to try anything besides running." He had to admit that had been his only concern and mostly the discomfort that would cause him. "You could have helped me." Gareth joked.
"If the skinny girl had killed you, you deserve it." The two of them walked to the fireplace, where the smell of food was already filling the room. "You are an idiot for not seeing it, showing you some skin, making you think she was not a danger to you. I child could see through that."
Grateh didn't respond. In retrospect, it was all very obvious, but he had so many other things he was worried about that he had made nothing else of her act than what she said. He was thinking about his brother, the people they saw on the road, the fact that there was a whole kingdom balanced on the fear of what Gareth would do if anyone rebelled and the fact that Ryn Tamer was still somewhere out there probably plotting. A woman trying to kill him was not at the top of his agenda. However, he probably should swift his priorities considering Aya was apparently convinced she was walking toward her death. He would try to escape as fast as possible if he were her.
"You are not stupid for not seeing through that." Einar continued after he did not receive a response. "You are stupid for thinking the only danger is someone bigger and stronger than you. Women are more ferocious than men." He ran a finger over the scar on his cheek - a gift from a woman he had underestimated. "She had survived through fire and ice out of fear. And there is nothing scarier for her kin than you, my friend."
"Rean, bring her food." He told the young elf to do as he was unsure he could stay civilized.
Einar wasn't wrong, and it bothered him so much. Not because she was afraid but because that was how her whole race felt about him. Granted, it was more than deserved, he did not feel as if he was misjudged, but they were all in a stage where they were trying to rebuild, and Kealan could not do it without him. War had been so much easier. Planning battles and fighting was what he was good at. The whole keeping the peace and everyone happy was not his thing. Eawing firmly believed that it was better to be feared than loved and had gone out of his way to be feared. Gareth had never tried to achieve that, but the fear he had inspired in his enemies was deeply rooted. And why not? He had slaughtered their armies and killed their clan leaders. Even when the war was over he crippled every form of leadership they ever had, leaving behind old women and infant daughters. His reputation was well deserved and he hated it.
