I have a nasty fever, so finishing this was kind of iffy, but here it is! Most likely unedited... :D
Chapter 153:
In Your Arms
Inside the Faelfierian Palace, King Bjorn sat inside his study with an exhausted expression, as he read a group of documents. The more he read, the more joyful his expression became, to the point of his large beard hiding his bright smile.
A group of disguised knights had already been sent on their latest mission, nearly reaching the hidden crossing utilized by the rebels to reach the Yursear Kingdom. The group of knights, having been entrusted to Eva, were prepared to use any means necessary to banish Malcolm from the throne, banishing the Yursear royal family once and for all. According to the letter, everything had gone according to plan, making it nearly impossible to lose the war now that the everlasting stalemate had been broken.
Olicia, having helped her cousin sort through the array of letters, was more than privy to the situation. “So much has happened in the past month. I hope this war can end quickly. You already made contact with the south, right?” She asked, wondering what had happened during the diplomatic mission.
“We contacted Princess Naceri from the Khymal empire and received their support. All that’s left is to hear the final plan from Eva. Our designated troops should have already infiltrated the Yursear Kingdom to assist her by now.” King Bjorn said, rubbing the space between his eyes with a tired sigh. “I trust Eva, but until the Yursinean throne is taken over by the rebels, the political unrest will affect the continent. We have to hurry and take charge before the citizens revolt-”
The Faelfierian King’s conversation was interrupted by a servant, who knocked on the heavy wooden door respectfully, “Your Majesty, another letter has arrived.”
“Come in.” He rested the current documents in his hands onto the desk, staring forward with anticipation. The trusted servant kept his head low as he delivered the important letter directly to the king’s hands, bowing his head lightly as he hurried out the door, working on other tasks in preparation of the war.
With the door quickly closed, the atmosphere grew with excitement as Bjorn read the note on the letter with a large smile, nearly laughing joyfully behind his large beard. “What’s this?” Olicia asked aloud, staring at the letter held in Bjorn’s hand with interest. The delicate cursive, inlaid with a gold ink, nearly made Olicia’s eyes jump as she read the sender’s name. “It can’t be-”
Using the letter opener in his hand, he sliced open the top of the envelope and grabbed the letter, throwing the envelope aside. Bjorn smiled, waving the small piece of parchment in his hand as he said, full of confidence, “The way we will win this war.”
…
Inside the unknown village, the night fell quiet, bringing a sense of peace and serenity long-since missed.
The group of humans and elves was scattered outside, their conversations quiet to avoid stirring the interest of the villagers, Maeir walked back into the home by herself, noticing the dimming candlelight inside the other village homes as the sky grew darker. She looked over her shoulder, seeing Silas standing by a tree, most likely collecting himself. As much as she wanted to hug her son and hold her close, he needed distance and time to heal.
For now, she kept an eye on the villagers, anticipating anything, from aggression due to elves entering the village, to the fear of soldiers entering the village and finding them. The queen would not risk her children’s safety to take care of her and Silas, but she was not sure where the old man’s trust lay, and it made her anxious.
Dammit. I’m not sure what we should do now. Maeir rested her hands on the back of her neck as she walked, attempting to straighten out the knot in her neck before she approached the door, hearing the faint conversation between the queen and the old man, finding herself unintentionally eavesdropping as she grasped the door knob, pushing open the wooden door.
“Your majesty, you and your companions are welcome here. I may no longer be an attendant, but my loyalty lies with you, Queen Racliffe-”
Creak. The sound of the door opening stopped the conversation abruptly, and two sets of eyes stared towards Maeir with surprise, not anticipating her early return. With an awkward cough, Maeir cleared her throat, acting as if she heard nothing.
“I’ll ask Silas to round up the children. Clarence should be around here somewhere.” Maeir stated before she turned on her heel, walking out of the door before either could respond, feeling as though she had introduced on a conversation she was not privy to.
She did not trust the queen or the old man, but the way the man spoke of her was adoring, like a father talking about his daughter. She was well aware that later that night, she would be asking for answers. I knew it was strange for that old man to treat us so warmly. It turns out he knows the queen. Releasing a heavy sigh, Maeir walked towards the children, motioning with her hands to corrale them as she thought. Hopefully his good relationship with the queen is enough to protect our hides for now. It may be the only thing keeping us safe for now.
With the night growing darker, Maeir was quickly met with Silas and the children, followed by Clarence, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as he approached the group in the old man’s home, nearly knocking into the doorway if it were not for Maeir standing next to it.
“Everyone is inside now, good. I think they’re ready for bedtime.” Silas smiled, his eyes dim as he walked inside the home, Eloise holding his hand in a familiar fashion. “Is there anything else we need to do?”
“I’ll introduce you to the other villagers tomorrow. They won’t make any trouble for you folks, not in these parts.” The man said in an assured voice, addressing the group that had returned inside after their varied conversations. “Just like you, many of us are victims of the war. You’ll find the villagers have suffered losses, much like our own.” The old man patted Niran’s head, his expression somber as he stared towards his granddaughter, an expression of warmth filling his wrinkled face. “Anyway, it’s getting late. Let’s get you to your accommodations.”
“We appreciate your hospitality.” Maeir said, his expression flat as she spoke, bowing her head slightly. “We won’t be here long.” Trusting the old man with their safety was a large step for the group of royals and elves, but as the night grew to a weary close, the feeling of warmth and familiarity made it easier for everyone to settle into their narrow accommodations.
The children were set to share a room with Niran, occupying the floor with a variety of quilts and other items to pad their backs, while the queen and Maeir were set to share the storage room, sleeping on two separate quilts to keep out the chill of the growing autumn days. There were few beds in the space, and so Silas and Clarence shared a hay bed in the loft of the barn of the old man.
“Are you two alright sharing the loft?” The Queen asked, staring at her son with a burning gaze of dissatisfaction.
“I have no problem with it.” Shrugging, Silas was not particularly thrilled with the arrangement, but he looked over to Clarence, who seemed far more eager.
“I’m just happy to have a bed.” The prince’s smile was wide, his eyes nearly in crescents as he smiled like a happy child. “I don’t mind at all.”
Sent with an armful of quilts, the pair went to the barn quiet as barn mice, launching the blankets up with a toss. After climbing the loft ladder, Silas and Clarence worked together to arrange the quilts on the large bed of hay, finding it easier to share the space than fight over the hay itself.
“I’ll sleep on this side, you on that side. Alright?” Silas asked with a weary tone, adjusting the large quilt with a flick of his wrists.
“That works for me.” Clarence beamed, his eyes like an eager puppy. Though the pair did not have pajamas to sleep in, they took off their outer clothes, sleeping in their thin linens and undergarments without complaint. As they laid down, the space fell quiet, making the two feel far more conscious of the other as they laid only inches away from the other, listening to the sound of the dimming frogs and crickets as they said their goodbyes to the summer season.
Once the two settled in, Silas laid quietly in the bed, his swollen eyes closed restlessly as he laid, his shoulder gently resting against Clarence’s as the pair laid side-by-side on their backs. The make-shift mattress was not the worst Silas had slept on, but for some reason, he struggled to fall asleep, leaving his thoughts to run restless as he scrunched his face, attempting to wash them away with sleep.
The stress of today is wearing on me. Silas sighed, attempting to keep himself from crying again as he laid with his back against the hay mattress, blinking repeatedly as he attempted to hide the shaky edge to his breath. By the Gods, I shouldn’t be like this. I’m nearly thirty years old… I’m too old for this.
Unbeknownst to Silas, Clarence could feel the strange wave of mana gently dancing off of Silas’s frame. The energy was dim, frantic, and shaky, as if it were attempting to keep a variety of emotions deep inside, afraid to release them. He turned his head to face Silas, his face only inches from the other.
“Is something wrong?” Clarence whispered, feeling the mana tense as he spoke around him.
Is it really that obvious? Silas lifted his hand to rub his eyes, finding liquid leaking from the corners of his eyes uncontrollably. Maybe, just this once, I’ll give in to my emotions.
The space fell quiet, and Silas pondered, humming in thought quietly to himself before he finally relented to Clarence’s burning stare, nearly burning him into the bed. “Can I…” Silas muttered, his reddened eyes nearly as red as his cheeks as he said, “Can I hug you?”
In the dark, Clarence’s head quickly turned, his burning blue eyes facing Silas with an intensity he could not hide. His fingers itched at his sides, ready to hold Silas to him in a hug. He watched Silas’s movements closely, down to the twitch of the other man’s lips as they made eye contact, their expressions frozen stiff, as if they were anticipating the other to act first.
As if he spoke thoughtlessly, Silas grabbed those words with a hurried frown and said, turning to face the prince as he responded, “Nevermind, I-” Before he could finish his words, a strong, broad embrace swallowed him, gently tucking his head into his chest as he held him close in an immobile hug.
“Clarence.” Silas grumbled testily, his fatigued voice muffled by Clarence’s chest.
“I should have done this much earlier.” Feeling somewhat bitter from earlier, the prince held Silas close and murmured, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? What for?” Silas loosely released the tight breath he was holding, feeling somewhat stuffy being stuck to the prince’s chest, unable to see his face.
Pensively, Clarence pursed his lips, speaking out directly. “All that’s happened, I’m sorry. I-I heard what happened earlier.”
Silas froze, his breath nearly stopping with it. “What did you hear?”
Though their voices were barely but a whisper, there was an echoing quality to the sound escaping their lips, making the empty barn feel especially empty that night. The emptiness was like a trigger, making the two speak their minds freely without restraint, speaking their own grievances they were holding close to their hearts, afraid it would tarnish their rocky relationship further.
“I heard… almost everything. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped, but-” Clarence swallowed his words, expressing his guilty conscience as he continued to speak. Silas fell quiet, listening to Clarence speak without interruption.
Once his words ended, Clarence withdrew an inch only to see a path of tears falling down Silas’s face. His eyes were swimming with moisture, his lips quivering as he bit his lip, attempting to hold back the flurry of emotions he had been holding back in his heart.
“Silas, are you-” Clarence began, feeling almost embarrassed, but Silas only stared at him with a frown, keeping his breaths as even as possible to keep himself from crying harder. Gently, Clarence lifted his right hand to brush the tears away from Silas’s cheeks, rubbing the wet streaks lightly with his hand as he shifted his conversation, attempting to soothe Silas. “Either way, I’m here for you. Cry as much as you want.”
Hearing Clarence’s cheesy words, Silas felt his mouth grow bitter. “Shut up, Clarence.” His words were muffled, but the irritation was watered with the sound of tears. Rather than feeling admonished, Clarence felt as if his heart was being poked by a feather, stirring his protective instincts. He drew Silas back to his chest protectively, patting the space between his shoulder blades gently.
If anyone were to hurt him like this, I’d kill them. Clarence’s eyes flashed with a heavy blue light, nearly searing in the dark night as he wrapped his arms around Silas, nearly swallowing him into his embrace. If he stays by my side, I’ll keep him safe. Lifting his hand, Clarence stroked Silas’s hair, running his fingers through the soft locks as the tips of his fingers brushed against the back of Silas’s neck, nearly too light to feel.
The night was quiet, making it difficult to sleep in the unfamiliar atmosphere, but being held in Clarence’s arms was enough to bring a sense of familiar calm to Silas. As the tears began to slow, so did the drooping of Silas’s eyes. His lids fell shut with a gentle flutter, and the hands wrapped around Clarence’s waist loosened, but the prince only held Silas’s head close to his heart, feeling the warmth of the elf’s breath on his chest.
If only we could stay like this forever. I never want to let him go. Unspoken, the only pleasant thought of Silas crying would be under him in bed. Clarence’s face burned, his cheeks and neck burning red under the darkness at even the thought of such a scene. Holding Silas so close, he could only shift his thoughts from his mind to keep his dignity intact.
For Silas, the night was short, but Clarence could only combat the various thoughts plaguing his mind until early morning, when he finally fell asleep, holding Silas in his arms with a tired smile. The night was chilly in the breezy barn, but holding each other, it made the two stay warm throughout the night.
Everyone slept without fuss that night, and the sun quietly rose in the small village. Not long after the sun rose, the old man’s rooster began to crow, waking up the village with its cries. Clarence and Silas were still deeply asleep in the loft, finding comfort in the quiet morning, but their sleep was quickly interrupted by an unexpected visitor, who had come to get hay for the farm animals.
“Oh my!” A voice called, nearly falling off of the rickety wooden ladder they had climbed. “I-I’m so sorry!” Waking up abruptly, Silas’s eyes flew open. He threw a piece of hay out of his hair, feeling somewhat groggy as he sat up, staring at the young, human townswoman who stared at the two with a nervous, shy expression just above the edge of the loft.
Silas’s sword, tucked under the mattress, was quickly in his hand, still sheathed as he spat with aggression, “Who are you?”
The girl, nearly as old as Clarence, was almost reduced to tears as she raised her hands, her voice trembling as she stood on the ladder. “I-I’m Vivy!” The poor girl was so nervous, she stood still, never having had a sword waved in her direction before.
Hearing the noise, Clarence sat up, rubbing his eye as he stared over to Silas, his face fogged with confusion before he spied the set of eyes looking over the loft. Sitting up with his back straight, his shirtless chest was visible to all, particularly to Silas, who remembered feeling a layer of fabric separating them most of the night.
“Where is your shirt?” Silas shot the question at the prince, his brows furrowed.
Clarence rustled his hair, messing it further. “After what happened last night, I got hot, so I took it off.” He smiled, sleep still dancing in his warm gaze, resting on Silas. “You didn’t seem to mind, though.”
The indulgence in his tone made Silas’s brows twitch in horror. Hearing the prince’s delicate confession, Vivy felt as if she were intruding on something. The girl’s face flushed warmer than Silas’s as she quickly dipped her head, practically running down the rickety ladder as she ran towards the house, wanting to question the old man about the strangely attractive visitors hiding in his attic.
Sighing heavily, Silas sheathed his sword and prepared to stand up, rubbing the last of the sleep out of his eyes as his feet met with the cold wooden floor of the loft. He shivered, feeling the cold air trail against his body as he reached down to his waist and began to remove his undershirt, feeling it was full of sweat.
“Come on, get up.” Silas had already moved out of the bed, “We already have one misunderstanding to clear up this morning. I don’t want another, Clarence.”
“I understand.” The prince murmured vaguely, moving his feet out of the quilt as he prepared to stand before he stopped, finding himself enamored again and again. Staring at Silas’s unblemished back, Clarence’s eyes traced every line of his spine, his eyes trailing like fingers across each bump. He wanted to run his fingers against each piece of unhidden flesh, and sink his teeth into the soft-looking collarbone of the man in front of him. Even the soft pink of his broad shoulders was like a fresh peach, tempting him to take a bite.
God, he’s so beautiful. Clarence thought, his mouth running dry as he attempted to calm himself, resting on the bed for a moment longer as he watched Silas finish dressing with fascination.
Not to be left behind, Clarence changed in record time, shimmying out of his clothes with little delicacy. Silas dressed quickly and had already begun to scale down the ladder as Clarence threw on his pants, urging Silas to wait with impatient pants, causing him to nearly fall as he put on his boots.
“I’m coming! Wait a damn minute!” Clarence cried, avoiding the ladder completely as he jumped down the short distance from the loft, finding Silas standing by the empty barn doorway waiting for him.
“Let’s go. Everyone must be up by now.” Silas replied, nodding his head as he looked over Clarence’s disheveled tunic with a chuckle, disinterested in relacing the garment himself.
Unfortunately for the prince, their early morning visitor had made the situation difficult for the elven-human pair, who had yet to arrive for breakfast before the dining room was in uproar. The head of it all, was no other than the prince’s mother.
…
“Where are they… those damn rats!” Malcolm slammed his fist into the side of the carriage, irritating his speckled wounds across his body. The bandages around his wrists threatened to disband, but Malcolm only tugged them back in place with impatience, his eyes glowing a dangerous burgundy. “They somehow managed to escape the palace without being seen. Who… who helped them escape?”
A variety of letters were littered all around him, many of them detailing the poor situation of the palace and the loss of soldiers and servants due to the sudden invasion.
If it weren’t for Theo, that dirty elven cretin, I never would have lost Alywin. We could have stayed at the palace… I could have kept him safe. Malcolm’s hands rested in his lap, crumpling the letters he had only scanned with his tired eyes, nearly losing his sanity from the pain of his injuries and the lack of sleep he suffered as he attempted to return to the palace, his losses insurmountable. Now I have to deal with this mess… I’ll never forgive Theo. Once I find him again, I’ll kill him, and kill Theresa, that meddling bitch once and for all.
“Your majesty, we’re due to arrive at the palace in three days.” The couch addressed Malcolm respectfully, his hands trembling as he held the reins.
In three days, all of this will be fixed. I will squash the rebels where they stand, and regain my rightful place as heir to the throne. Clarence can’t stop me now. Malcolm smiled, madness leaking in his gaze as he thought of his lost cousin.
Too much had yet to be fixed. The search for his pathetic cousin could only continue once his power was fully restored.
…
Wasn't sure this would be up in time, but I'm glad I was able to get it done in time, at least. Apologies for the poor editing in advance. I'm trying to avoid seeing some stats on this novel, as I find them depressing atm, but that's more so my lack of inspiration haunting me.
I have a fever today, and it's wiping the floor with me, so not long after this is posted I'll probably conk out again. I've always been awful about taking care of myself, and my mom reminded me today to do better, otherwise I might be the one seeing the inside of a casket ( = ⩊ = ) I had poor health the first ten years of my life, so I definitely appreciate being alive this long... count your blessings, y'all
If posts get sporadic, I apologize. I'm working on multiple projects at the moment, and I've had two students upset in my office this week already at my day job. Two tough meetings tomorrow. May the sugar of this chapter carry me through this hell week!
Thank you all always for reading ⸜( ´ ꒳ ` )⸝ keep the lovely comments coming! The positivity is killing my fever >y<
