Chapter 151:
Trauma and Torment
“Those soldiers already took out half of our group, dammit!” A quiet voice whispered harshly, their voice gravely with fatigue. “What are we going to do now?”
Surprisingly, the two voices belonged to a pair of elves. They were not the most recognizable, but the scent of mana in the air gave them away. Their appearances were covered in fabric, much like a black shroud, tightly wrapped around their figures in the dim light of the growing darkness. Their faces, what was visible under the light of the dimming firelight, displayed a haggard, exhausted expression on two unwrinkled faces. One of the elves had tears in their eyes, their hands shaking in their lap.
The second shrouded elf stared forward, a tremble in their tone.“I don’t want to die…” The second elf whimpered, repeating in a flat tone. “Don’t let me die-”
The other elf kicked a rock at their foot, growling, “Shut up! Saying that won’t change anything!” With that, the two elves fell silent, listening only to the crackling of the dying fire that had begun to spout smoke.
With the approach of the three elves, the already-vigilant shrouded elves had noticed something wrong with their surroundings. The calmer of the two elves grabbed their sword from their waist, pointing it in the direction of the forest where Maeir, Silas, and Clarence hid. “I smell mana. Come out!”
“W-who’s there?” The crying elf stood abruptly, holding a decrepit bow in their right hand, trembling with fear. “Come out, or I’ll shoot!” The elf holding the bow said, nocking their arrow with a trembling hand, their expression white as a sheet of parchment.
“Stay here.” Motioning with her hand, Maeir quickly whispered to her companions as she stepped forward, lifting her hands at either side of her body. Behind the fingers on her left hand rested a small dagger, wedged between her fingers in preparation to throw, ready to protect herself and her son at a moment’s notice. “Lower your weapons. We’re elves too-”
“Elves? What elves are left here anymore?” The stern elven man yelled, his eyes flickering between his companion and Maeir. “Where are the others? There’s too much mana for one elf.”
Clarence wanted to step forward, but Silas stopped him, holding his hand gently in front of the young prince’s chest as he mouthed, “Stay still. Maeir’s got it.”
“I’m here alone. My companions are in the forest.” Maeir lied directly, her gaze direct.
The anxious elf held their bow in a threatening manner, “I-I don’t trust you! If you’re being truthful, drop your valuables and leave. We’ll let you live.”
Holding back a laugh, Maeir raised a brow mockingly. “You dare?”
There was no method to pacify the two. The aggressive elf stepped forward as he lifted his sword, but before he could curse, the knife between Maeir’s fingers was thrown, cutting the sheer layer of skin on the fierce elf’s face with perfect precision. “You-”
Before the other man could speak, the anxious elf had already released the nocked arrow between their fingers. As the arrow left, their face fell, and tears poured down their face as they stepped out of shooting position. Their teammate stared forward in horror, grabbing their companion as they shook their shoulder with a fierce tug.
Watching the arrow fly towards them, Clarence and Silas abruptly stood, attempting to dodge the arrow flying right towards where their heads just had been.“Watch out!”
Thwip. The arrow flew through the air, nearly grazing Silas’s face as he moved to the left, the arrow buzzing by his head like a bullet, nearly undodgeable. Feeling the air of the arrow fly past his face, Silas fell still, feeling the brush of wind nearly kiss his cheek. As the arrow passed, so did the chill of the fierce wind it brought, bringing no source of pain to his cheek.
The three turned to watch the trajectory of the arrow, alarmed by its direction, “The carriage-” Clarence shouted, turning to run as fast as he could, attempting to stop the arrow that had already flown past them and towards the direction of the carriage. Unfortunately for the prince, it was already too late, and a scream rang out from the carriage.
“No!” Clarence shouted, hearing Eloise’s shrill scream ring out in the empty forest. Approaching the carriage with haste, Clarence froze next to the wheel of the carriage, where the queen sat, injured, surrounded by her three children. The queen’s arm was bleeding, but no arrow was sticking in her arm where her hand rested, attempting to stop the blood from flowing. Eloise was holding her free arm, tears pouring down her face as Julian abruptly woke up to the bloody scene, his head still resting next to his mother’s lap.
With half of the group distracted, the two aggressive elves could no longer stay still. “Run!” The second elf shouted, grabbing their companion by the arm as they dashed away from the clearing, leaving a small satchel of items near the fire that had begun to die out.
Maeir threw her second dagger with a curve, landing the weapon in the shoulder of the anxious elf. The man, hit with the heavy force, nearly fell, but his companion dragged him up, cursing the whole way as he glared at Maeir, his fear and anger palpable. Even with the injury, the two were quick to move, hurrying out of sight before Maeir could throw another knife.
As the elves ran, Clarence appeared at his mother’s side, standing on the side of the carriage where the arrow had struck the ground, nearly smashing it with his foot as he called out to the queen, surveying her wounds. “Mom!”
Silas had already turned to face the two elves, ready to stop them if needed, but Maeir’s shout stopped him. “Let them go!” Maeir commanded, lowering her sword as she stuck out her free arm, stopping the two men from chasing the two elves, who disappeared as fast as they had been found, fading into the woods like rabbits.
“They shot at us! Shouldn’t we at least try to stop them?” Clarence shot back, angry the arrow had harmed his mother.
“It’s too late. They’re gone.” After letting out a tense breath and sheathing his sword, Silas stepped forward, gazing towards Clarence’s face, having been distorted in anger. “They’re not worth chasing, Clarence. Let’s take a look at your mom’s arm.” As angry as he was at the two elves, he and Maeir both thought of the lingering fear in the two elves’ eyes, remembering the time they were afraid of everyone, even their own kind.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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“Looks like they had quite a bit for a small group.” Maeir’s eyebrow raised, staring at the small, hefty coin purse inside the satchel. There was also an array of mana potions, bandages, herbs, and medicine. “They were probably stealing from travelers. This is far too much for two people. Silas, take this and help Ecaterina bandage her arm.” With Silas approaching, Maeir lifted her hand, passing a roll of bandages and a bottle of medicine to the palm of Silas’s hand. “There are some useful items in here too. Quite a few citizen tokens. This will be useful.”
He accepted the medicine with a simple nod before he approached Ecaterina, his eyes falling on Clarence, who seemed distraught over his mother’s condition. As he looked over at the queen, however, she sat with her hands holding Clarence’s, her expression calm in comparison to the prince, whose face had fallen with alarm.
“Can I see your arm?” Silas asked, holding the medicine in his hand as he approached the manure carriage, smelling the scent of blood much stronger than the scent of stale manure.
“Yes.” The queen responded curtly as she gently turned and spoke to Julian and Eloise in a sweet, motherly tone, “You two, step out of the carriage for a moment. This elf-”
“It’s Silas.” Silas stated his name directly, knowing the queen was well aware of his name.
“Silas will be treating mommy’s wound.” The queen added, her irritation apparent. “Don’t travel far from the carriage.”
“Yes mommy.” Eloise said, lifting her arms as she stared towards Silas with glittering eyes. Knowingly, Silas lifted Eloise from under her arms, gently placing her on the ground as he turned to Julian, who seemed to be struggling to step down from the tall carriage on his own without his brother’s help.
“Are you alright?” Silas asked, chuckling as he watched Julian stubbornly struggle.
“I can do it!” The young royal said, but he wordlessly took Silas’s hand, stepping onto the ground as if a lowly servant had just helped him step down from his royal carriage outside the palace. Stepping away with his sister, Julian shot a heated glare towards Silas, frowning with heat.
Once the children were off the carriage, Silas began to survey the wound as the queen moved the torn fabric sleeve of the commoner’s clothes out of the way with a sneer of disgust, exposing only what was necessary for the wound to be cleaned and dressed. “The cut is clean at least, and it isn’t too deep. For now, I’ll clean the wound, add some medicine, and bandage it. Is your arm throbbing, or are there any sharp pains down to your hand?”
The queen shook her head. “None. Please bandage it quickly.”
Silas nodded in response, feeling awkward as the queen stared down at him, watching him like a hawk as he cleaned the wound with his canteen and a clean piece of fabric. Once the old blood was washed away, Silas began to clean the wound as quickly as he could, hoping to avoid the lingering, awkward atmosphere.
Staring at Silas as he used the medicine to clean her wound, the queen’s frown lightened slightly as she stared the young elf down in front of her. It was not until she opened her mouth that she said in a low voice, “How old are you?”
Feeling her words were somewhat abrupt, Silas paused his movements as he said, “I’ll be twenty-nine come November.”
The queen hummed in thought, her lips disapproving. “You’re older than you look. You would have made a skilled physician if you were a human.”
Holding back a chuckle, Silas only awkwardly smiled as he finished cleaning the wound. “I’ll bandage your cut now. Please keep your arm still.”
Silas wrapped the cut bandage around the queen’s arm with slow movements, ensuring the bloody wound would not reopen once it was bandaged as Clarence frowned in displeasure at his mother’s pressing questions. “Mom.”
The queen adjusted her arm as Silas knotted the bandage, finishing dressing the wound as she said, “I’m curious to learn more about our companions. Do you have a problem with that?”
“You’re making Silas uncomfortable.”
“If he’s that uncomfortable, he’ll tell me himself, Clarence.” The queen nodded her head towards Silas as he stepped back, unwilling to enter the argument between the two royals. “Thank you, Silas.” She said his name in an awkward tone, using his name directly, but Silas felt she was making an attempt to be civil at least.
I’m surprised she didn’t curse me for being near her. It’s well-known that she hates elves. Did she have a change of heart? Silas pondered, stepping towards his mother, who stared at the queen with a heavier frown of displeasure, unwilling to allow her son to be bullied.
Seeing the danger had passed, Julian and Eloise were sent with Silas to stretch their legs. Eloise was quick to run to Silas’s side, ensuring her beloved elven prince was safe, while Julian was still startled, thinking of how bloody the wound on his mother’s arm was. Maeir assisted Silas, helping keep the children quiet by helping them forage for berries and other items they could eat while traveling.
The two children stayed just within viewing distance of the carriage, and Maeir looked over her shoulder, watching as Clarence approached his mother, prepared to have a difficult conversation without his siblings present.
While Silas kept the two children busy, Clarence walked to the seat of the carriage and sat next to his mother on the carriage seat. His hands were resting in his lap, but his expression was tense, full of concern as he stared at the queen, who appeared just as stern as she was previously.
After the awkwardness of their previous interaction had passed, Clarence fumbled his words.“Does your wound hurt, mom?” Clarence asked in a low tone, nearly a whisper.
“It’s okay.” The queen said, resting her bandaged arm. “I’ve suffered far worse.”
“I’m sorry.” Clarence uttered, the edge of his fingers brushed against his knee anxiously as he stared at the bleeding, bandaged wound, his worry apparent.
The queen looked up. “What do you have to be sorry for? I protected my children like any mother would have.” The closer she stared at Clarence, the more she found his gaze falling on her wound, then to Silas with a lingering pause, as if he had something to say. “I’m sure you’re relieved he’s safe.”
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Clarence spoke softly. “I am. He’s important to me.”
At the mention of Silas, the prince’s demeanor seemed to shift. The edges of his cheeks fell red, his eyes resting half-lidded in a soft gesture, his mind obviously taken by one man. Even his hand, as restless as they were, fell still as the thoughts of the elf filled his mind, pink bubbles surrounding him like dancing fireflies in his mind.
Abruptly, the queen spoke before she could restrain her words. “That Silas…” The queen asked again, the ends of her eyes growing red as the lull in their conversation grew, allowing them both time to think. “Do you love him?”
Sitting in the carriage, the prince’s eyes flashed in surprise as he stared up at his mother, his mouth falling open and shut in a flabbergasted fashion until he could restrain his expression, feeling embarrassed he had exposed himself so poorly in front of his own mother. Resting his forehead in his hand, Clarence could only shake his head, unprepared for such a direct question.
Clarence fell quiet, lifting his head as he said directly, “I think I do.”
“Are you willing to risk your life to be with him?” Queen Racliffe asked, her gaze falling over her son’s serious demeanor. “Does he feel the same way, Clarence? Tell me.”
“I-” Clarence began, his voice louder than he intended as he quickly cleared his throat, lowering his voice. “If it was for Silas, I would do anything in my power to make him happy.
“It seems you’ve forgiven that elf,” The queen sighed, “However, will that elf forgive you?”
Unconsciously, the prince’s gaze fell towards Silas, whose long blonde hair was tickled by sunlight, illuminating the soft edges of his cheeks in a soft, warm glow, just as he saw him each passing day. “I think he can, but I have to be willing to put the work in to be forgiven.” He swallowed, clenching his hands in his lap with an anxious frown. “If he were to hate me, I don’t think I could live.”
Queen Racliffe wiped her eyes with the bend of her finger. Breathing out a wispy sigh, she could only say weakly, “If only you hadn’t met him.”
“We shouldn’t stay here any longer. Is everyone ready to continue on?” Maeir finally asked, watching as the conversation between the queen and her eldest son fell into an awkward silence, holding the two in a strange limbo of guilt and difficult questions. Silas seemed to notice the atmosphere, but he remained quiet as he helped the children back into the carriage.
As Silas walked to the side of the carriage, Clarence stood tall, his hand stretched out in an open gesture as he said, “Need a hand?”
Silas smiled, “Thanks.” He took the calloused hand in front of him, his gentle grasp allowing him up next to the prince as Maeir held the reins. Maeir waited for the two men to settle, waiting for the prince’s lingering hand to return to himself before she lifted the reins, urging the horses forward with haste.
Much like the elves before them, they survived off of the rations they had collected from the two men previously, living sparsely as they had during the heat of the war. Days would pass before the group ran into their next allies, but they could only anticipate the reactions of Eva’s comrades, negative or otherwise.
…
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, thundering in the narrow space as two men ran side by side, one wrapped from the tip of their head down to their waist in a small jacket. The other man’s sleeveless arms were exposed, showing a varied array of light scars and bruises, some fresh injuries still flowing with warm blood. The larger wounds were covered with ripped pieces of fabric, roughly keeping the wounds covered from the dirt and debris around the pair as they hurried down the path, hobbling as fast as their weakened legs could take them.
“I’m sorry.” Alywin stated first, dragging his feet as he hastened his pace, feeling his breath grow shaky.
Theo stared over at the young man next to him, the illumination of the lamp barely enough to light the anxiety in his features. “What are you sorry for, Alywin? You did nothing wrong.”
“I, I couldn’t fight him. I’m so sorry, Theo-” Alywin’s shoulders trembled as he sobbed, running as fast as his trembling legs would take him. “Fighting Malcolm is like a death sentence. There is only so far his obsession will go, and if I were to try to kill him, he would end my life-”
Theo’s arm wrapped tighter around Alywin, threatening to swallow him inside his tight embrace. “Alywin, I’ve never thought that.” His wounds hurt, but the thought of Alywin attempting to hurt himself in such a manner hurt far more than his bleeding wounds.
Feeling the man in his arms grow tense, Theo could only shake his head lightly. The young noble in his arms had a tendency to bite his lower lip when he was scared or anxious, nibbling on the soft skin until it bled. He’s so scared, even now. Malcolm, you fucking bastard- Theo thought, his anger growing in his heart at the missed opportunity before him. If only I could have made him suffer like he had Alywin. Then, maybe we could find some peace.
“You’re safe now. Don’t think about him any more.” Theo patted Alywin’s back in a gentle manner. “Let’s find the princesses, and get out of here. Everything will be okay.”
The pair walked for only a short distance before the light of the outside began to brighten the surroundings little by little, until the dirt path was completely visible. Exiting the dirt-ridden path to the outskirts of town was like the gate to heaven. The rim of light around the blocked entrance called to Alywin, nearly making him stumble as he hastened his pace, using his shoulder to support Theo’s tired frame. He dragged each of his feet, one at a time, gritting his teeth as he stepped closer to salvation.
As they reached the door, Alywin and Theo moved the heavy wooden door blocking the entrance with stifled grunts, using as much as their strength they could muster to move the heavy door to the side. The more they pushed, the more light was exposed, until enough space was made that they could slide outside the narrow space sideways, like scurrying rats escaping through the sewage tunnels.
“Thank goodness, we finally made it.” Alywin panted, tears growing in his eyes as he lifted his hand, covering his eyes from the bright sun. “We made it, Theo.”
Alywin turned, his eyes meeting Theo’s eyes full of smiles. The growing anxiety and panic in his heart crashed as it melted into an abrupt sense of calm, his heartbeat still thudding deep in his chest as he attempted to rein in his sweeping feelings, unsure what to feel as they found freedom together.
Even in their bloody, somber, unfortunate situation, their feelings of relief made them fall into a temporary euphoric state. Lifting his hands, Theo brushed aside the loose blonde curls framing Alywin’s face as he stared at the long lashes on the young man’s face. The eyes underneath those lashes were full of light, bright in a way Theo had not seen in nearly a decade.
“I’m so happy you’re safe.” Theo said again, holding his palms on either side of Alywin’s cheeks, his gaze full of love.
“Me too.”
Abruptly, swept in the moment of joy, Alywin moved first, lifting his lips to meet Theo’s. The kiss was soft, sweet, and gentle, holding the weight of Alywin’s anxiety and relief of finding Theo again, and the relief of escaping Malcolm. While the kiss was held, neither of the two men opened their mouths. Their lips only parted momentarily as Theo lifted his hand, holding the back of Alywin’s head as he deepened the kiss between the two, savoring the soft taste of Alywin’s lips.
“Theo, Alywin!” A familiar shout rang out, dragging the two men out of their passionate exchange before another breath could be savored. Pushing his hands against Theo’s chest, Alywin’s eyes fell wide with alarm as he met eyes with the two princesses and their knight, all three staring at them with varying levels of surprise, concern, and placidness.
“When did you get here?” Alywin and Theo awkwardly stepped back as Alywin’s cheeks flushed red like a ripened summer fruit. Charlotte and her knight tactfully ignored the display of affection between the two men as Philomena gasped aloud, staring at the two men as if they had never existed at all.
“Y-you two made it?” Seeing Alywin safe and sound, dust and dirt covered, Philomena nearly jumped in place, her face spilling tears like a well. She ran with her arms out wide, sprinting to Alywin’s side as she wrapped the taller man in a tight embrace. Her tears began to soak the front of his dirtied shirt as she sobbed, holding her arms tightly around his waist as she spoke incoherently, her relief apparent.
“I’m so happy-” Philomena cried, her words broken apart by her tears.
Alywin gently responded, “I’m glad you’re all safe too.”
Theo’s gaze fell on Charlotte, who smiled at their return, relieved in her own right to see their two previous companions safe and sound. Her eyes fell over Alywin, who had lifted his arms to hug Philomena back, gently patting her head in a coaxing fashion. “You both look terrible, but I’m relieved you’re alive.”
“Where is Malcolm?” Charlotte’s knight asked abruptly, souring the atmosphere as he asked the most pressing question.
Alywin fell still as Theo stepped forward, answering with gritted teeth. “That bastard escaped. Some knights followed him into the tunnel before we could kill him for good. It’d be best that we get out of here before they follow us.”
Charlotte nodded in agreement, “Let’s move for now, and we’ll treat Theo’s wounds once we’re in a safer location.”
“I know a place not far from here. It should work until we can gather our thoughts.” Theo stated, using Alywin’s arm as a support to help him walk. “It’s this way. Come on.”
Traveling in the same woods as the other group, they could only lift their feet and move forward, praying to find safety as Theo helped lead the way, taking them to the place he knew as safe. Basch was not pleased with the arrangement, but with the mission to protect the princess, he could only take the other man’s lead, preparing to protect the group until they reached their new destination.
…
Happy 3 year anniversary, YMtK! ;u; Ah, I’m near tears…. maybe it’s my exhausting catching up to me, but we are getting our first official “I love you” talk with the queen and Clare. First of many difficult conversations and… kisses. This is actually my first “official” kiss scene, so while it’s mild, I kept it within my comfort level.
I think I have mentally plotted out where I want to go from here. There will most likely be one more chapter if I can get my shit together, then a small break for me to plot out the final arc, previously the extras. Without Hunny, I’m very much struggling under the weight of everything. I’m frustrated at myself that I couldn’t do anything for our anniversary this year (nearly forgot it today 🙁 ), but there will be more special occasions to come.
Please celebrate in my stead. Thank you all for continuing to read and enjoy YMtK. Between Silas and Clare, who do you think will confess first? hehe
Aww, sweet chapter with them bonding.
The mother-in-law is touchy, Silas. Keep charming her.