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Hi, thanks for checking out my fiction. This story is for NaNoWriMo(National Novel Writing Month, an international event that happens every November). And I will write this only during NaNoWriMos, even if the book is unfinished for periods of time...

I am taking this opportunity to hopefully experiment with some writing styles, and how far I can stretch myself and the story. So there may be some inconsistencies and plot holes, not to mention grammatical mistakes. Due to time constraints, this story will mostly remain unedited throughout its entirety...

If you're interested in my more polished works, you should check out my active work (on a pause until NaNoWriMo ends), Viewpoint: Bloom...

Anyway, as long as you're here, please enjoy...

The morning sunlight streamed through the enormous windows, lighting the contours of Arakan’s chiselled upper half as he leaned back on his pillow. “So?” he asked the wheat haired woman laying beside him. “What do you think?”

 

Two delicate copper tinted arms of his companion extended from below the cover, holding a scroll of vellum open above her head as she scanned the contents.

 

“This is a proposal for marriage!” she said, looking at him with her almond brown eyes.

 

“Except for the obvious…”

 

“Hmm…” Laureen laid the vellum over the white blanket covering her. “Any particular reason why you didn’t show it to me last night?”

 

“Well, you know, I didn’t want to...” Arakan shrugged, “ruin the mood before.”

 

“I see,” Laureen nodded slowly as she sat up. She snatched a pillow out from behind Arakan, throwing him off balance, and started bashing him up with it.

 

“Hey! Stop that!” Arakan put up his hand against the incoming cushion barrage.

 

“Ruin the mood! Ruin the mood, huh!” She didn’t stop her swings. “I’ll show you ruining the mood.”

 

After she’d calmed sufficiently, she also leaned back, exhausted. “Why are you showing this to me now?”

 

“Just wanted your opinion,” Arakan said, picking pieces of feather out of his hair. Pillow-fighting was not a pretty thing. Not for the pillows, at least.

 

“My opinion? The Moras house must be in dire straits to make such a proposal. But as far as I am aware, she returned from the quest mentally… ill. So I doubt any house would willingly accept her.”

 

“Is that so?” Arakan shook his head. “I rather think most houses would be eager to grab such a chance.”

 

“Marrying a madwoman is a chance?”

 

“Yes, a chance. Not of marrying lady Sena, but of getting a tight grasp on the Moras house.” Arakan stood, skirting around the feathers fallen on the soft grey rug to stand in front of the window. “Having a warrior noble house like that in the palm of your hand would be lucrative for any noble house. Especially now, with shifting politics and the undercurrents happening within the current capital.” he turned towards her. “In ordinary times, they would never get such a chance with how proud the warrior nobles usually are, but the Moras house has suffered a lot during these past months, so it’s the best chance for houses like us to gain their support.”

 

“But she’s mad!”

 

Arakan frowned at her. “Don’t keep calling her mad.”

 

“Well, that’s what they all call her. Wait, a minute!” Laureen crossed her hands before her chest and gave him a critical look, like a hawk watching a prey. “I know you met her before the quest and all, but why are you getting so upset over what I call her? Don’t tell me…”

 

“Well, she is quite pretty,” Arakan said, rubbing the tiny stubbles starting to poke out of his chin as he gazed at the ceiling thoughtfully. But he had to dive to the side soon to dodge the second pillow flying at him. Missing him, it soared out of the window and landed on the grassy lawn below. Before Laureen could pick up another pillow, Arakan dashed forward and pinned her to the bed. He swooped in, covering her lips with his own and stopping her struggle.

 

Laureen brought her hands between them and pushed him off her, breaking their moment of intimacy. Her eyes held a hint of apprehension as they searched his face.

 

“You… aren’t considering this proposal, are you?” she asked.

 

The smile faded from Arakan’s face. He pulled her up, sitting her beside him on the bed, and stared deeply into her eyes. “Yes, I am.”

 

Laureen shivered. For a moment, Arakan spotted a hint of disbelief in her eyes and also the sense of betrayal she felt. He reached out to her, but she shrank away.

 

“I… see,” she said, her voice muted, barely above a whisper. She climbed down from the bed, not daring to look at the face of the man who had proclaimed his love for her time and again. Her heart felt cold, hollowed out, hammering incessantly against her chest.

 

She had always feared this day would come. But no matter how much she wanted to cry and rage, scream at Arakan for breaking his promise to her, she had no such right.

 

The heir of a noble house and the daughter of a butcher shop… it was an impossibility.

 

“Good for you. Hope your house prospers after the marriage,” she said, her voice holding a hint of acid as she fumbled around, trying to put her dress back on as fast as she could. “I have to leave now.”

 

Arakan’s heart jumped. “Wait!” He hurried down from the bed.

 

Laureen backed away from him. “No! Don’t come closer!” She gasped as she turned around and almost ran for the door.

 

Arakan chased after her, holding her hand firmly in his grasp just as she was about to step outside. “Laureen, please!” He pleaded. “It isn’t like that!”

 

Laureen stiffened, part of her wanted him to pull her close, physically preventing her from leaving. But the other part just wanted to run away from here. “I- it’s ok!” Her voice shook as she made a weak attempt at pulling her hand free. “You don’t have to explain anything. I… understand my status!”

 

“Status?” This time Arakan did pull her back. He wrapped a hand around her waist. Not forceful, but a light, tentative hold, like handling a delicate bird about to take flight. He reached out with his other hand and gently lifted her face. His eyes penetrated hers as he spoke again. “After spending all this time with me, you still think I care about things like status?”

 

Laureen tried to turn her face away, but Arakan didn’t let her. “Look at me! I love you! I love you as I’ve never loved anyone else! I will never let status dictate our relationship!”

 

“Then why are you marrying her!” Laureen shouted, unable to hold back. “If you love me, then why…” Unable to finish her words, she hung her head on his chest. Drops of tears flowed down her cheeks and wetted his skin.

 

Somewhat surprised at her outburst, Arakan lost the words he intended to say. This kind of thing… it had never happened between them before. Then again, he had never told her he would marry someone else before. Hell, he had never told her he would marry her before.

 

Sighing at his own stupidity, he put his palm on her hair and caressed it gently. “Listen, I’m not actually—”

 

“I’m sorry…” she whispered through her tears, giving him a pause.

 

“Sorry?” Arakan frowned. “What are you sorry for? If anything, I should be the one to apologise.”

 

“No,” she shook her head against him. “I know you have responsibilities. I have no right to…” she gulped, looking up at him with helpless eyes. “Whoever you marry, I—”

 

Arakan put his hand against her lips, stopping her words. “That’s stupid. Never view yourself as any less than me. You have every right that I have. Every right to get mad at me, shout at me, beat me up with a pillow.”

 

He stopped his words, waiting, but the giggle he hoped for didn’t come. Laureen still looked positively heartbroken. Not a surprise, after how much of a dolt he had been. Sighing, he drew her back to the bed and sat her down.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, kneeling in front of her and wrapping his arms around her belly. “I understand why you are angry, but you misunderstood me. So just let me explain myself before you do anything.”

 

Laureen remained silent. Explain what? Arakan was going to marry someone else, so what was there to misunderstand?

 

The thought cloaked her body, clinging to her insides like a bucketful of muck. It made her genuinely ill. Especially where Arakan still touched her. It burnt. She wanted to escape, but she also wanted to hold him tight to and never let him go. She feared his answer, but she also wanted to listen to it. So she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and gave a hesitant nod.

 

Arakan wiped off a drop of tear flowing down her cheek and placed his palm on it. “I was thinking of accepting this proposal, but I never thought of marrying her.”

 

Laureen’s eyebrows scrunched up. Never thought of marrying her? What did that mean?

 

“I have told you how I helped rescue lady Sena, right?” Arakan said. “We developed a bit of a friendship at that time.”

 

“Just friendship?” Laureen mumbled.

 

Arakan sighed. “Yes, just friendship. Now let me finish.” He took a moment to organize his thoughts before he began. “From what I know of Sena Moras, she would likely not agree to this marriage if she had her sanity. Her ambitions lie elsewhere.”

 

“Her ambitions!” Laureen couldn’t help the slight sense of anger in her voice. “You told me marriage is just politics for noble houses, a way to build alliances. You told me you as a Noble have obligations! Then why does her ambition matter? And why do you care?”

 

“Well, I did say we have some friendship, so I do somewhat care. Though I guess I shouldn’t care this much,” Arakan said as he laid his head on her thigh, gazing at the marbled walls of his summer retreat. “But In a way, our situation is similar, mine and her. However, I at least can make a choice. But due to her mental conditions, she doesn’t have that option right now. And I find that to be unacceptable.”

 

His words soothed away some of the ill-feeling Laureen had. The situation indeed was similar. Their relationship was also facing such a challenge from the Sergel house, and from the society too, wasn’t it?

 

“Also,” Arakan furrowing his eyebrows, recalling the first time he met Sena. “Her part in Her Majesty’s quest isn’t over yet. I can feel it. She has to return to it. Or else...”

 

Laureen’s eyes widened. He could feel it? Did that mean… “Is it those... premonitions you have?”

 

Arakan nodded, heaving a deep sigh. “Yes, it is.”

 

Laureen drew a deep breath. The premonitions... Arakan had told her of them before.

 

Three years ago, when the usually bustling streets of Valar had turned as empty as every other corner of Clover; when the air of death cloaked the whole city like the thick layer of smoke from the burning remains of the Faded; when the ash from those pyres made the water of river Russet into poison, she used to be the one to fetch water for her family from the only clean well in the capital. The well of the Royal Palace that Her Majesty the queen had opened up for the families of the capital. At that time, she had been the one with the permit to fetch water for her whole family. And it was during one such day, when she was walking home with the pots and pitchers full of water, that she met Arakan, one of the volunteers of philanthropist nobles distributing rations and other daily necessities to the city folk.

 

At that time, she had taken him for a profligate son of a noble, trying to woo her with talks of ‘danger ahead’ and whatnot. Though she was quite pleasing to the eyes, the moniker of ‘butcher’s daughter’ usually kept such flies away, but a few still managed to tolerate it. She had disregarded his warnings, boldly continuing on her way. Later, when the homeless rabble on the streets attacked her for the water she carried, he had been the one to come to her rescue.

 

Well, after that, he had certainly managed to woo her, but she had also known to never take his premonitions lightly.

 

“When I first met lady Sena,” Arakan’s voice jolted her away from her musings, “I had a feeling she would face grave danger if she went to this quest, so I had cautioned her against it, though I never outright tried to stop her. Because I also felt she had to make this journey,” he said, frowning. “And now, since our house received the letter, the premonition has come back stronger. I can feel a sense of danger…” He gulped as a slight tremor shook through his body. “I can feel it everywhere, this city and beyond! Bearing down, closing in on everyone like a knife in the dark.” He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes. “Of all people, she can’t be stopped because of a marriage, Laureen. She has to go! She needs to go!”

 

Laureen didn’t miss the shade of terror tinting Arakan’s clear green eyes. She placed her palm on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

 

“All right, I understand,” she said gently with a voice devoid of her previous grievances. “Do what you need to do. Even if you really have to marry her,” she gritted her teeth, brown, almond eyes firming with determination, “you have all my support!”

 

He stood up and hugged her tightly. “Thank you. But you don’t have to worry. Even though I intend to accept this proposal, I will not go through with the marriage. I just want to find a way to make her come back to her senses again so she can decide for herself.”

 

“But wouldn’t that… be like breaking a promise?” Laureen looked worried. “If the Moras house turned hostile because of that…”

 

Arakan shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t. The Moras house has already been an ally of ours since the rebellion. If Sena and I both broke it off, I don’t think that would sour our relationship. These are trying times, especially for a house contributing their manpower to the front lines like them. And unlike the houses in the capital, they have neither the luxury nor the time to waste on petty enmity over a broken marriage.”

 

He smiled, placing both his palms over her cheeks. “For them, this marriage is just an excuse to secure firm support. And I am going to give them exactly what they want.”

Check out Viewpoint: Bloom, my main fiction...

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