Waring Hearts (Closed for Vailyn )

[Firmhanded_Daddy]

Erik Kla’Don

Age: 28
Weight: 210 lbs
Height: 6’ 2”
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Short black and disheveled

“You did what? Absolutely not Father! I have slain your enemies, I have followed your will, but this I cannot abide!”

Rage, hot and flaring seared through his skull and his vision dimmed red with a bloody haze. He may have struck his father down in that moment if not for all of the rigid discipline and training. As it was his hand gripped the hilt of his sword so fiercely the leather braided around the hilt creaked with the effort and his knuckles popped in protest. He stared holes right through the older man who was as sturdy as his son, if not a touch shorter.

Vladimir was in his late fifties, and the man looked like he would live for another fifty or so years. All the men in his family lived long lives and cut imposing figures long after other men bent and withered with age. Vlad was the perfect example of this. Like the stone region they lived in he looked as if he were cut from a cliff face. He looked a touch weathered by the wind and the rain but instead of removing the definition of the cliff, it softened the edges and compacted the facets. His features softened with sorrow and grief as he weathered his son’s rage. “This is the only way to break the legacy of war that has been our families shame for a hundred years. You of all people should know the Cinaed’s sorrow. It was why you chose to ride his body to their gates. I need that man back. I need your strength and honor to lead our people into a new era; an era of peace”

Erik looked as if he had been struck in the face. His face went white with ugly spots of red, almost as if he didn’t know if he should be sick, or enraged. His voice sputtered when he spoke. “How DARE you bring Cynn and Viktor into this?” Almost unconsciously he twitched his wrist to the plain silver bracelet circling his thick wrist. Despite the fact that Cynnthia and Viktor had both died on the day he was born he never took off the binding bracelet. He had planned to be bound to her in spirit forever. Oh certainly he might take another wife to provide an heir, but he would forever belong to Cynn. No one could replace her, no one could replace the light in his life. He could have tolerated being bound to another woman in body, but not the Princess of Fintan. Aside from the enmity the two kingdoms shared, he had killed her beloved brother. He had seen her face as she watched him ride her brothers shattered body to the front gates. Those eyes haunted his dreams, and now his father was asking him to wed the brat!

“This is above and beyond duty. You know what I did to her. You don’t care do you? For you this solves all of your problems. It provides you with someone to continue the line, takes care of the son you have feared for, and solidifies the peace you have sought for. None of these things are what I want!”

He had to turn away, or risk striking his king. He stalked down the long table and let out a hot breath of rage and grief. “You tie up the affairs of your kingdom and sentence your only son to a slow death of the soul.”

The aged man was on his son’s heels. He placed a hand on his shoulder, and Erik stiffened. His voice still soft, had the force of years behind it. “Son, that is the very definition of duty. Asking you to do something you do not wish to do, and expecting you to obey. I know this will tear you up for a long time. I know that you threw yourself into the way to avoid dealing with your grief. I also know that despite what you think you have been dying inside for years. This girl is a new start, and a new battle. I am trying to save you, just as much as I am trying to save our home. This girl is a beauty, she has hair of fire, and a will to match. She is a good match for you. She has many of the same qualities that pulled you to… her.” He opted not to salt the old wound by speaking her name.

The younger man’s shoulders slumped. His rage had left him and there was a taste of bile in his throat. Each breath tasted of ashes. His grief had been the core of steel that had kept him going for years. It had been his private abyss, but his father had seen right through it. Somehow that violation tore open the scars and he felt the blood flowing new. He knew that if he continued to fight him on this, the king would order him to take the welp as his new bride. That would cause a rift between the two men that may not be fixable. With a flick of his fingertips he released the clasp that bound the silver bracelet around his wrist and placed it on the long table. “You know what to do with this.” He pulled away from his father’s touch and stalked from the room.

“I do. I’m sorry Erik.” His father reverently took the bracelet and his face stricken with grief he summoned one of his attendants to have the object entombed with Cynnthia and Viktor. He sank back into a chair and his face suddenly looked very old. For a moment he let his grief wash over him before pulling out a quill, inkwell and parchment. In a very tight, terse stroke of the quill he wrote simply It is done and sprinkled the sand over it to let it dry. Moments later he rolled it, sealed it with a wax seal on his ring and sent it off to the king of Fintan.

 

[Vailyn]

Milda Vitalia Cinaed

Why wasn't she born a man? If she had been born a man, she would have been trained to fight and lead the people against their enemies. She wouldn't be just tending to the wounded, the farms, overseeing the castle, learning how to be a lady and left without much voice in the matters of the war that has been fought for generations between Fintan and Kla'Don.

Once a month, Milda the Fair, gathered an armful of flowers and leaves and made her way down to the family crypt. Of all of her brothers, Brandr was the one she adored. He was only a few years older than her and always made time for her. He did not push aside her questions and encouraged her to wish to learn how to fight. Out in the clearing in the north, Brandr spent many a day teaching her how to hold a blade and the use of it. He confided that he was not sure if the war between the kingdoms was good for either. He said that he had seen too many atrocities done by both sides and he wanted to make sure she could defend herself if she ever needed to.

The lessons stopped the day he died. Killed by the enemy. His butchered body brought back to the castle gates by the man who slew him down, Erik Kl'Don. She'll never forget his face. He seemed larger than the stories that were told in the dark of the night. A large brute of a man with harsh features and dark hair. Cold blue eyes that seemed to lack all soul. He sat with ease upon his dark mount and said not a word as his men dropped the lifeless form that was left of her brother.

It was the first time she learned that she could hate. Hate burned in her for the man that killed her brother. Hatred that grew with each day and burned hot as the whole kingdom mourned the death of their jovial champion. Though Brandr was the youngest son, he was held the heart of many with his fair judgements, cheerful smiles and boldness in battle. In time, that hate grew into a icy oath of vengeance. She did not know how or when but she had sworn to Brandr that she would avenge his death by her hand.

She laid the flowers around Brandr's brass urn. The ashes of his body scrapped together and poured into it by her own hands. She had been naught but a child then. Barely nine years of age, scrawny stick of a girl with wild red hair and eager green eyes.

"You cannot be serious." the words tossed out between Milda's clenched teeth. The years of decorum and manners tossed aside as rage tore apart her control.

Her mother's pale green eyes softened in sorrow and understanding but held no doubt. "The war between our lands cannot continue, Milda. You are kept abreast of the state of our lands and people. You know as well as I that the battles are hurting our people and taking away from the land. There are more children in charge of the farms and assuming roles of leadership because their elders fall in either battle or attacks. It cannot stay this way. We need peace. We need it to tend to our people, farm our lands and make something in our kingdom that is more than a war that leads nowhere."

"We have made the best choice for all. I know how you feel about Erik Kla'Don. You are not alone in this, my child. Yet, for true peace to be made, you need to set aside your hatred and make a sacrifice for the good of the kingdom." Lord Alistin took his beloved wife's hand in his and took strength from it. "Time stops for no one. We grow older and of the seven children we have been blessed with by the Gods, only you remain. You are our heart. We do not wish to have your life cut short as your brothers before you. All but a few died in battle. We want peace. Peace for both kingdoms and time to heal from the wounds we have caused each other. We want to see you grow older, have children and age in good health before we pass our way into the night."

Lady Talis went to her remaining child and hugged her close. The two were like halves of a whole. Milda was the very image of her mother at her age. "You have a heart that loves well and deep, my daughter. I hope you may find your way to love the family you shall have. It may be too much to ask you to care about the man who is set to be your lord but I hope that you can respect him. He is not a terrible monster. I know you want to think only ill of him but he is not known to be a malicious brute and unthinking in his actions. By all accounts, he is a blunt man and fair in his dealings. Our lands need time to heal and grow past the pain of battles."

She drew away from Milda and held her at arm's length. Her pale green eyes serious as she gazed into her daughter's forest green orbs. "We need you to make this choice for the good of both kingdoms. By binding our families together, we end the war between our kingdoms. Your children will be the future of both lands. You can lead the way of peace and guide the lands to a better future. Please, my heart, find a way to see pass your anger and be the hope we all need."

"How can I do it, Brandr? How can I see anything but a murderer when I see him? What am I suppose to do? I cannot be so selfish as to deny the peace the people need. My feelings are not as important as the needs of so many. Yet, I do not know how I can live with the man that took your life. I do not know how I am to bind myself to him and pledge faithful loyalty for the rest of my days... How am I to let that killer into my body and be the father children upon me? Am I to forget you and how much I love you? Am I to betray you for the sake of others? I feel as if my heart is broken in pieces and I have no hope for a future that is tied to that man. The man that took you away from us all..."

***​

Lord Alistin read the scroll from Lord Vladimir once more. Lady Talis laid her hands on his shoulders and gave him what comfort she could. "It is the right thing to do, my love."

"I know. I know it is. But we send her away with this act. We give her to the ones we have hated for so long." He sighed heavily. There were no guarantees that all will be well after this but something had to change. He put pen to ink and wrote:

V. Kla'Don,

My daughter has agreed to the match. The binding should take place as soon as we can arrange it. Both of our kingdoms celebrate the union. Let it be agreed that the first male child will inherit Kla'Don. The second male child will inherit Fintan. The children of the union will be raised together and learn about both kingdoms.

May the Gods bless the union. May there be peace for us all.

A. Cinaed
King of Fintan