Chapter Text
Far, far from any other kingdoms, villages and towns — far from the idea of war, above the hills, lay a isolated kingdom. The Cowards Kingdom, they call it; hiding off and away on the peak of a mountain, far from other lands. Cowards, they are, as they rarely ever engage in battles or wars, may it be foe or ally.
Consequently, It's nickname is true. Cowardice runs deep in the blood of those born there; Relying on their kingdom's unused sturdy military system. Hoping — Praying — that their king would protect, sacrifice great things solely for his people. And yet, cowardice blinds him too, running deep in his blood.
Fear is what drove the lonesome king. A deep, pathetic cowardice. All he'd cared about is himself — not his daughter, not his people. Solely himself.
Therefore, fear drove him to do vile things. Things that are not at all necessary, you could say even ethically concerning.
For one day, The King had ordered his knights to do what nobody would ever dare; "Kidnap a mirkwood elf," he said, "We need strong ones." His fear blinded him so, ethics and morals did not concern him anymore. Hence, the knights rode off — off and beyond, to the territory of The Elvenking, who nobody dared to mess with. Yet, The King did not care about consequences. And consequences did not come.
Forcing his daughter to interbreed with the Elf, a daughter was born, much to the king's disappointment. The king did not see this child as an heir — a disappointing, forsaken child it was. Hence, it was abandoned, raised as a soldier and a male.
Forsaken by it's mother, forsaken by its father, forsaken by the king — forsaken by the way it was conceived.
The kingdom stood tall in all its glory, the Palace being the biggest of all. It was colossal, monumental even; truly befitting of the title "Heart Of The kingdom". It was beautifully built, filled with curves and opulent, gilded details; The Baroque Palace loomed over the rest of the city, stark white stone gleaming in the sun with a dozen of Oval windows glittered all over — Though the most beautiful of windows must be the palladian window, a large three-part window where the center section is arched and flanked by two smaller, flat-topped windows.
The stone was polished with oil to mirror shine— They say the first ever ruler built it as to show his community's 'superiority'. Back then, the kingdom still fiercely participated in wars and battles alike alongside allies.
It was symmetrical and orderly, a gorgeous Mansard Roof alongside a turret and a cupola, all topped by a Finial.
Guarded by soldiers — strong, unshakeable ones, all dressed in shiny, silver armor. Yet, The strongest out of all must have been our Elf-Hybrid Royal Guard. The Knight of light.
Twas a peaceful day in the coward's kingdom, as such everyday was. Sunny, warm — not too hot — a perfect day — as it was in Elowen's eyes. Sounds of metal clashing and clinking rung through the Palace halls. Elowen was once again practicing his Swordskills, as any respectable soldier would. War, and therefore also battles, may never reach his kingdom, but he shan't slack off, not once.
Elowen's unkempt, long — yet, somehow elegant — white hair wildly moved along with him as he slashed and stabbed and thrust, moving with utter precision and decisiveness. Not losing focus once, he expertly moved around the room. Yet, his session abruptly ends as guards open his door. "Elowen," one says. "The king wishes to see you." Elowen did not ask why and simply moved past the guards.
Once he'd arrived at the throne room, he kneeled down before The King — his grandfather. "Your highness," He starts. "Why do you wish to see me?" Is all he asked. The King did not answer, as he observed Elowen closely, estimating — analysing, as if wondering about if what he had decided in his mind is a good choice at all.
"Elowen, you are my greatest warrior," High praise fell from his mouth, quite rare for this odd king, "Would you give your all to protect this kingdom?" He asked. This question seemed utterly ridiculous to him — his grandfather doubting his devotion and loyalties, even now, as a 29 year old. (29 years old as per human age.) Elowen looked up the slightest bit, "Of course." He did not hesitate.
"As for I would engage in a eons long war to protect my people." The King raised an eyebrow. No words shall ever convince this Judgemental king. "Then do as I say," He said, confusing Elowen deeply. Elowen was a deeply respectable fellow, and as such, also a respectable soldier. He was loyal to a fault, so why this doubt?
"You will ride off to the east. There, you will find a kingdom. An Orc infested kingdom." A battle? How unbecoming. How... odd, above all. This king— this kingdom, engaging in a battle. "What are you speaking off, my majesty?" The King huffed. "It was a respectable kingdom. That," he turned his head slightly to the window. "Is where we get most of our supplies. No one leaves this kingdom unless necessary." That old rule. Of course. This situation would be the only exception.
"Of course." Elowen muttered. "Let me take a troop—" He was interrupted by a loud, booming "No". He had angered the king. "You are strong, Elowen. You are..." He looked down at the elf-human hybrid, almost.. condescendingly. "...special. You are strong. You do not need backup." Elowen glared. This disrupted atleast 5 plans he'd ready had in his head. No matter; Elowen nodded. "As you wish, your highness."
"You will be leaving today. Pack whatever you deem necessary to bring; It is a long journey." Elowen left quietly. He'd seen The King's look of disgust thousands of times, yet it never ceases to haunt him. The ones who knew what he truly was never looked at him normally. Disgust and hatred was the first expression he'd ever seen on his mother's face. His father? He had never once seen him. His father had ran off, sailed away the second he had the chance. Elowen could not blame him; for he would have done the same. His mother had vanished after Elowen became a young boy. Nobody had heard of her ages ago.
Elowen did not blame either of them. Yet, he cannot fathom why people looked at him like he was at fault. He could not have controlled how he was born — or what he is a hybrid of. He did not like the circumstances of his birth, either. And he was sure The King would've loved him if he was born a man. That, is what Elowen was thoroughly sure of. The one person who did not look at him condescendingly, not even with Disgust, nor pity, was his beloved Fiancée, Luciana.
A mere mortal woman — chronically ill, short lived. She had suffered under anemia and Elowen was painfully aware of how fragile she was; Yet her boisterous, fun-loving demeanor never dimmed. That is one thing he cherished about her. Never once blaming him, or looking at him weirdly. She sees her Elowen, that was the only thing that mattered to her.
"Brother!" A high-pitched voice rang, bare feet pattering on the floor. Miko. Elowen did not turn around, barely looking over his shoulder at his younger brother. "You were forbidden from calling me that, Miko," He reminded. "The others are not to know that I am from royal blood." He opened the palace's front door, "And do not speak to me publicly." He crudely remarked, almost harshly. Almost.
"But I want to." Miko pouted. "And you are my brother whether people want to know or not!" He exclaimed. "I am," Elowen nodded, then stopped walking, turning around; "But other people are not to know." Miko stood still, pouting evermore, looking down at his feet. "I heard what grandfather said," Miko muttered, his spirits down.
"You cannot leave, Elowen!" Miko suddenly said, head snapping back up.
"I can and I will." Elowen brushed him off swiftly, once again walking to his destination to pack a handful of things. Miko stood there, not following him. "Can I— Can I go with you!?" Miko suddenly yelled after him, only to be met with a firm 'No'.
Elowen had packed a handful of useful things; Not counting his large, two-handed claymore, or his armor for that matter. Food, water, medicine. Such things. And then left, without a word, or a goodbye, to anyone he loved; In the night, Discreetly, so nobody would see him. He tread long paths and rested lots..
Yaaaawn! A loud, exhausted yawn came from an young woman; Luciana. It was dark, and she'd just come home from a long day of helping her father out— despite her anemia, it would not stop her from helping others in need. She opened the door to her cozy, small-yet-dainty house, only to be met with a sudden spectacular sight. "Miko!" She exclaimed. "What brings you here?" She asked, giddy, only for her smile to then fade as she saw Miko's face. "What's happened to you?"
"Elowen went off." "Off?" Luciana asked, confused. No citizen of this kingdom left, and if they did, they never came back. Miko nodded. "Whatever do you mean?" Luciana asked, slightly concerned. "Grandfather ordered him." Miko answered vaguely, kicking his legs disappointedly. Luciana squinted her eyes at him, "You overheard. Tell me everything, then," she sat down next to him.
"Grandfather said the kingdom that was bringing us our food supplies and such were being colonised by Orcs. He ordered Elowen to go and slaughter them." Miko explained.
"Kingdom? It's hardly a kingdom.." she muttered, before realizing; "He ordered Elowen to go to a death trap!?" She sprung up from her seat, exasperated, angry. "He didn't even tell me!"
"Elowen knew you'd want to come with him, likely." It was true. Luciana had a bad habit of wanting to come with Elowen when it came to adventurous to even plain dangerous things. She was frail, ill and undeniably weak, so of course Elowen would never allow her to come with him to even something as simple as fishing — for the sake of her health. Luciana was fragile physically, yet she resented the way she was babied for it. She could not at all stand it. Luciana clenched her fists, looking down at the floor, debating. What should she do? Run after him? No way. That was a ridiculous idea.
And yet — She stormed off to grab a travel bag, then went into Elowen's room and grabbed a spare, smaller claymore. A sword fit for a beginner, a trainee. Miko stood up, confused and bewildered; "Luciana! What are you planning!?"
"I'm going after that stupid elf," Luciana muttered under her breath, angrily stuffing her bag with bread. "That's a horrible—" Luciana cut Miko off. "Please," she said. "Do not stop me. Do not tell anyone." She pleaded. Miko could only nod, and watch her wander off to find Elowen.
Luciana had no knowledge of where this kingdom was, or where to start, so she simply treaded from path to path based on how she felt. Twas a long journey indeed, especially for such a weak girl. Yet everytime she dared to think 'maybe I should go back,' or 'this was a stupid idea', It made her angry at herself to ever think of such a thing — and fueled her determination, too.
Luciana wandered through the first night, utterly sleepless, and did not sleep the day either. By the second night, she was already thoroughly exhausted and could not walk another minute— hour, second or day. And so, when dawn came, she put up a camp near an abandoned camping site, careful not to step into any small trenches or holes once used for waste and latrines — lighting a fire with found wood and stone in the slightly overgrown fire pit. She sat quietly near the fire, bread in hand as she ate solemnly.
The site was clearly abandoned for what seems like decades, overgrown and rotting wood laying around. Ripped scraps from tents, buried in mud, stained with what looked like blood — discarded metal from broken swords, briars and moss-covered ivy covering the site.
The peaceful quiet did not last long — a screech disrupted the night, not a human's screech, no, an Orc screech. Luciana looked around, then scrambled to grab her sword — She had no prior battle experience and did not know how to handle a sword at all, yet it was all she had currently.
An Orc settled on a warg came out of a nearby forest, It's eyes immediately setting on Luciana. It sprinted full-speed at her, growling, whilst the Orc raised his sword prepared to strike. Luciana held the Sword's handle with two hands, entirely unprepared and slashed clumsily, tripping over her feet slightly and moving to the side. The Orc laughed in amusement — another Orc a little further away shot a arrow at Luciana, which she just barely dodged.
She stumbled back slightly — this much moving, especially moving so quickly, is already toiling on her, since she did not get any sleep. She was already breathing heavily, moving and slashing. Two — Maybe three, more Orcs riding on Wargs appeared out of the forest. She definitely could not fight as many as three.
Her vision was getting blurry and she clumsily slashed and thrusted around her in panic — right before she fainted, she heard a slashing noise in the distance. Someone else fighting the Orcs.
She groaned loudly, her head pounding painfully — As it would, fainting and falling onto the hard ground. She squinted her eyes, trying to force them to focus, then blinked — only for Elowen to sit over her when she opened them again. She could see his utter relief in his eyes, even when his expression remained unchangeable. Dating such a stoic, almost unemotional man taught her to read people more efficiently, really.
She grinned, giddy, like a child who'd just gotten gifted a whole carriage filled with toys, half-delirious she uttered the words "You're so handsome," Happily with a Cheshire smile.