we're taking a break from the angst. Not that you believe me. **** TW: hyperactive child[rens], the Return of the King (namely I reintroduced our favorite Beanlord) "Daddy," Leila shrieked happily, running towards her father, arms outstretched, "GUESS WHAT HAPPENED? KILICK ATE STINGING NETTLE TODAY AND WASN'T. EVEN. SICK! AND I BEAT HIM IN ARCHERY! AND AND AND ALSO I WON THE RACES! MISTRESS BRONWYN CON," she stumbled over the big word, "CONGRAJOOLATID ME!" "That's good, sweetie," Kellin smiled, bending down to hug her. He was exhausted. He shouldn't speak ill of the Feylord, but when Keltäs had held the position of Captain there had been absolutely no paperwork done. He had spent his entire day slogging through literal piles of it, thankful only that it shielded him from more important tasks, like... "Are you a warrior now?" Leila asked, pulling at the hem of his tunic and begging to be carried. He complied, lifting her up and swinging her around in a circle. "No," he said quietly, finally setting her down. She shrieked with laughter and ran into the house, probably to tell her mother about Kilick's ignominious defeat. He followed after her, smiling slightly as she tackled her mother and knocked both of them over. He helped them up, kissing his wife's forehead and picking Leila up, "This one defeated her archnemesis. Obviously, she's earned a story. If there's time before supper, that is." Eryn laughed. She was short, her brown hair contrasting sharply with her green eyes, "There's always time for your stories." "Good." Kellin set Leila down on the kitchen table and sat next to her, his exhaustion momentarily disappearing, "In a kingdom far far away lived a hero named Kellin..." **** "The inventory of our prisoners, I trust, you have gone through." Keltäs said, pausing at the door. "Yes, your majesty." Kellin paused, looking up. The Feylord stood at the door, the moonsilver crown glittering menacingly on his forehead in the torchlight, "Is there anything else?" "No. Unless, of course, you're wondering why the madman and his son aren't on the list." "I'm not, sire." Kellin lied. Keltäs's smile curled across his face again, "You're lying." "No, sir-" The Feylord's hand slammed down on the table, scattering Kellin's carefully organized scrolls, "Do not contradict me. It just so happens that your today's assignment will take you to the prince's cell."
Kellin stared in mild shock and disgust at the former Feylord, who was slumped over in the corner of his cell, drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth as he stared blankly at the bars before him. "My lord?" he asked, faltering. Beside him, Keltäs struck his arm roughly, causing him to yelp with pain. "I'm your liege-lord now," he hissed, "Not this babbling fool." Kellin barely heard this. His eyes were fastened in horrified fascination on the utter blankness in Enoriem's silver gaze, the dullness in his unflickering Feystars. "Is he alright?" "Of course not!" Keltäs laughed, his black eyes glittering merrily, "Why should he be?" If Kellin had been a hero in a story or ballad, he would've replied with, 'Because he's the king, because he's my king, and you're just a horrible and cruel usurper' Instead, he nodded quietly, completely submissive. Inside his cell, Enoriem stirred slightly, his fingers clenching and unclenching as though he was nervous. "I've tried beating him," said the Feylord, with a smirk, "He just sits there, a feckless half-wit. Unlike his son." "You beat an innocent boy?" "...of course. Congratulations, Captain Halennor. You're learning how the real world works." *** Track: Blue Lips- Regina Spektor (Kellin. This fits him so well it's just -noises-) I hate this chapter, you can hate it too, I had severe writer's block when I wrote it. It's quite literally my least favorite chapter. Also, as a warning, it's going to take a lot longer between posted chapters as my in-person school has started! I've never been to in-person school before, so I have a lot to figure and I'll be offline a lot more now. I will not stop posting chapters, however.
