The Fall of An Era [ Father x Fruit ]

[Father Figure]

War was not a cliché.

It was a brutal and relentless landscape, a harsh existence that some might volunteer for but none would ever recover from. The trauma of war, the cruelty, and the vicious cycle of violence was imbedded in the souls of those that were swept away by it. Let the civilians clamor, let the politicians try to come to peace, and let the merchants make a profit...but let none of them think they understood the realities of what people face on the battlefield. The soldiers were the ones who understood, as did the families fleeing the burning fields and shattered lives that they had once called a home. So often history books misunderstood what occurred, the victors turning the fallen into icons of savagery while lauding themselves for their honor and bravery. The truth was always in between and far more tragic than any book would ever describe. Let none tell you it was sanitized, let none wag their tongues that it was honorable and glorious, for they were all fools in the telling. War could only be truly understood by the people who had seen its brutality, its futility, and its ultimate stupidity.

It was not something he reveled in, but it was something he excelled at.

Aelius Corvus, was everything his father could have hoped for and more. Born of a powerful magistrate of the Valerii, he had excelled in his education before serving his mandatory military service. It was there that his familial name found him a place amongst the officers and his calling as a strategist. Victory upon victory was heaped upon his shoulders, not unduly, and even if the man did not allow hubris to overcome his wisdom...he was not immune to the growing ego that came from being the general that had brought entire armies to their knees. Where his sword arm had been merely strong, his mind had been keen to the strategies of others, a relentless intuition which grasped what an opponent intended far before they engaged in the action itself. It was that integral knowledge of the workings not of the mind, but the soul of another that had allowed him to triumph time and again.

Now he stood waiting, his hands behind his back as he casually considered the proposed treaties on the table before him. He was not a man given to wanton slaughter, not a man given to viciousness, he was a man given to victory and while there were many at home who extolled the virtue of utter subjugation...he was not one of them. He was willing to listen to reason and to negotiate surrender. A compliant city-state was one that had been shown mercy and allowed autonomy as long as they willingly bent knee to the empire he served, it was the foreign nation that had been brutalized which bred rebellion. As the minor functionaries milled about him he wondered once more who would be sent to represent the Elven nations that border the far outskirts of the western territories. The Imperium had not sought the conflict with them, but the satellite countries that had come under their control had pressed the Elven people to desperation. It mattered little in the end, war had broken out and Aelius had served his people and now if all went well...he would owe allegiance to these elves, just as they owned allegiance to the Imperium.

 

[Fruit]

"But we outnumber them five to one!". Her vanguard insisted for what must have been the tenth time now. Had he not been of noble blood, Catelyn would have dismissed him. "Numbers aren't everything, Ser Cassel. The humans have strong fortifications along the river, furthermore they have erected a number of camps, towers, and watch points alongside the western passages. While they're certainly not like the dwarfs dwelling in their mountains, they have a flexible supply line and resources to hold out on a year long siege" She explained again, this time condescendingly slowly, hoping that the proud knight would leave the war council. But no, he's still here, offering me guidance as if he was Agrippa The Cunning she sighed. The weather was growing hot in this god-forsaken, thrice-damned province. Would that I were in Elve's Vale now, drinking cold honeyed wine with a paramour's hot tongue between my legs.

"So there is no way to defeat them?" Ser Cassel presented his third idiotic inquiry for the day. The first one was when he sheepishly asked if they had brought catapults with them to counter the human's towers, Ser Rodrik explained that they couldn't transport such weaponry without severely stalling their march, and that there were no nearby forests to lumber. The second question was when he asked if the humans would dare face them in open combat. With that giant river between us, and only a single bridge to defend. I'd be shocked if they weren't awaiting our arrival.

"There are tens of ways to defeat them, Ser. I have fought against harder tides and lived to boast, there is a reason my lord father elected to send me as chief commander of this campaign. While victory is guaranteed, let me remind you that this Valerii stronghold is only our first skirmish in this grand campaign. Our orders are to conquer all the land stretching from Mymeer all the way to the Green Mountain in the Viscari Province. It won't do us well to waste resources and besiege the pesky humans for a year" She explained, this time her voice showing clear signs of irritation, "But victory is easily within our grasp, and if I hear you doubting it, I'll have your tongue cut for lowering morale". The knight's face flushed as red as the Elven banners, and promptly left the tent angrily.

"The bridge is like to be their ambush point, your highness. They'd like to destroy it and split us in half as we cross it", Ser Rodrik muttered as he stroked his white beard. Finally, someone who actually knows a thing about wars. The gods are good. Ser Rodrik had been her father's aide for years, often among his advisers in his war tent whenever he would wage a war or defend against an invasion. When Catelyn had first saw him she was six years old, and the white on his beard shyly shone amidst a forest of brown. "You are correct, Ser". Rodrik moved closer to the grand map on the table and pointed towards a spot on the river "The waters are shallow here", he moved his frail fingers to another spot, "and here. I propose we send our bow-horsemen to ford the rivers and circle behind them at the bridge. If we're lucky we could pincer them on the bridge".

And that is why you were never my father's chief adviser. "The humans know this land better than us. There is a reason they chose those two particular spots to defend with towers" she explained, and before she could elaborate, she noticed his reaction. He understood his blunder. "Their archer would decimate our riders with their height advantage from the towers. I apologize, milady, I ought to clear my head with some wine" he laughed, and she joined him with a modest giggle. "We all do, Ser."

"Don't worry about it, your highness. I vow to devise a plan that will guarantee us a swift victory" he announced, his fist pressed against his heart. "I doubt not your devotion nor your intellect, Ser, but that won't be necessarily. They are as smart, they know that all they can do is tire the beast before succumbing to its wrath. Within a week their commander will either surrender or his men will kill him and deliver his head as a token of submission. Of course, I might be overestimating their intelligence. In that case, we might have to build our own bridges"

"But, the forest is.."

"We don't need the forest to build a bridge. Have the stewards fetch me a quill and paper, and tell Arvin he's to be sent as an envoy to the humans as soon as I'm done writing"

---

Arvin was a stumpy fellow, with ginger hair and wide green eyes. His cheeks matched his hair; an orange hue with spots and wrinkles. He looked up at the leader of the human's nation, twirling his tongue inside his mouth as he considered his choice of words. "Aelius" he said, his voice echoing throughout the chamber despite his small frame, "Her royal highness Princess Catelyn offers terms of peace under the condition that you bend the knee and swear your allegiance." He presented the terms on the table; Catelyn had detailed everything. It was all written in human tongue but for Catelyn's name and signature. As per the terms, the humans were to lay down arms before the next light. Their weapons were to be confiscated, and 3000 able warriors were to be conscripted into the Elven army to serve in the remainder of their conquests. Catelyn also demanded ten hostages as a show of trust, but she allowed three of them to be chosen from outside the noble families of the city. The humans were also required to pay an annual sum of 3000 golden coins and 250 silver coins as a token of submission. In return, the elves promise to show mercy and reinstate Ser Aelius as a ruler of the city under the King's name.

"Accept the terms, Ser. Its better than bloodshed that would end with your country in ruins"

​

---

 

[Father Figure]

There was a brief sadness to Aelius's features as he stood there, considering the offer and what it inevitably meant. He had not expected the battle to go as poorly as it had, but in the end no matter how skilled he was they had found themselves routed. Yet the demands were far greater than expected, surely it could not be such a losing proposition to negotiate with them over the defeat? Yet he could not see his way through it, not with their envoy laying out the demands of their Queen and his surety that all might have been in vain. There was something about the envoy which rankled the general, something which bothered him intently, and he gazed long and hard at the stumpy old fellow. He contained his distrust and his displeasure, instead deciding to look away and back down at the written demands that had been presented to him. Resignation touched his features, but more than that a quiet dignity which transcended the normal of humanity that the elven people had dealt with, that showed a measure of calm repose that others lacked. He would not sign these, his people would never accept it, and so he had to resign himself to finding his way through this mire.

Perhaps there was another way.

He had not gone without noticing the blatant bribery in not just offering him respect, but in offering him rulership, which was something he had not expected in the slightest. He was no fool, the power and prestige was appealing, but also it would come with the blame for bringing his empire to ruin and subjugation beneath the boot of the Elven might. It was not something that he could stomach, even more so it was not something that would give him a long life, now was it? Especially when the power was granted to him by the Elven King himself and not through any respect and accolades of his own people. He looked down towards the table and made a small motion with his hand, idly knocking a few pieces of the sculpted representation of the armies down on their sides. Even more than that, no matter how tempting the offer might be, he understood his gifts were not those of the administrator or politician, no...he was a leader of men and not a leader of an empire. Those eyes narrowed as his muscles bunched, features full of thought before he raised his head to speak to Arvin...and then he stopped, pausing, and clamped his mouth shut, the lips pressing together.

There was an out, at least an opportunity and his mind finally centered upon it. Perhaps if he approached her in person, perhaps if he gave in that way and swallowed that pride within him, the Princess could see reason and offer some form of mercy to his people. It was perhaps the only chance he saw, that he could plead his case before her and have some measure of reprieve. His hand held the parchment in front of him, the offer, and he slowly shook his head. His voice was quiet as he replied to her envoy. "I will not sign this. Not without looking into her eyes. Not without knowing with certainty that she is a woman of her word." He glanced at the other man, straightening his shoulders before turning to move towards the entrance to his tent. Opening the flap he leaned out, calling for a horse and his armor, not bothering to look behind him as he finally spoke the way he should have from the beginning.

He spoke like the General he was. "I expect you to take me to her."

 

[Fruit]

He'll take the offer Arvin thought for a second, No, he'll refuse it and have us face his army on the morrow he thought again. Arvin's fingers moved to brush his chin as he watched the strategists, generals, and diplomats argue among themselves on what their ideal course of action was. One man remained as silent as Arvin was, it was Aelius. His eyes shifted between studying the maps and reading the princess's bargain. He'd occasionally look to an aide bringing up a good point, but most of his attention seemed to be dedicated towards his own thinking.

It seemed like a fortnight before Aelius himself spoke. The room went into cold silence the minute he opened his mouth. That's the mark of a true leader. What came next was a surprise. Arvin had been a herald in the Elven army for generations; he had seen pride leaders refuse submission and fight to the grave, and others wise enough to concede defeat. It wasn't unheard of for a leader to doubt or at least question the elves' integrity, but for a leader to wish to travel alone into the tent of the enemy to test their true motives struck the ginger elf as complete insanity. What does he hope to accomplish by this? If Catelyn wanted him dead, he's just helping her fulfill her wish. He might as well wash his neck before riding to meet her.

But as an envoy he had no say in such matters. His job was to deliver a message and receive the response to deliver back to his princess. He was used to riding back and forth between the two camps delivering a full round of negotiation. This Aelius means to make his job easier, it seemed. "I'll be happy to ride with you, milord". People around Aelius looked discontent, and some even voiced their concerns and objections, but it seemed obvious that Aelius had made his mind. The two were to ride back to the Elven camp on the other side of the river regardless of whatever his subordinates thought.

And the ride back took them less than two hours. They had to ride along the mountain chain till they found the riverbed, from there it was a matter of crossing the bridge and then over to the Elven camp. When the two entered the camp, Arvin met with familiar faces. Most of the lowly ranked soldiers and stable boys assumed Aelius was either a hostage or the human's negotiator. Such was a custom in some armies, but nobody suspected it was the leader of Valerii strolling through their camp.

Deeper behind the trenches and tents, higher ranked officers came into view. Some of them widened their eyes at the sight of Aelius. They recognize him, Arvin thought as the guards waved him through. He saw two chief strategists whispering to each other while looking at Aelius, and a few generals walking with the envoy towards the grand tent in the center. Soon, the two found themselves in the main tent with Catelyn and some of her closest followers. "Princess Catelyn. I bring to you Aelius Corvus, the leader of Valerii". With that, Arvin left the meeting.​

 

[Father Figure]

It was not unreasonable that he was recognized.

There was something to leadership that transcended the casual pomp and circumstance of the would be ruler. Very few leaders were gifted with it, many of them had to train to even have a hint of what a man such as Aelius was given by birth. It was not to their detriment that he was naturally inclined, but it was a honed inclination that shone from him like a well polished blade being held forth from the scabbard. His people had a phrase for it, noblesse oblige...nobility obligates. It was far more than the mere power that was given to him by his people, far more than the skill which he made decisions, and much further than the practiced swing of his sword. It was the inherent ability to not only be noble but to conduct himself nobly and in the doing to have a responsibility to his people. That responsibility had led him to make the decision to come with Alvin...that in the doing he placed himself in danger and that his words here could mean his very life would be taken.

That resolve had permeated the trip with Alvin, for Aelius had said nothing on their travels to the elven encampment and he said nothing now as he watched others milling about. No, as they walked he thought long and hard about what he had given to this cause and the cause of his people and coming to terms with what those decisions had meant. He had lived a lonely life, though he had never drawn attention to that fact, the rigid and cold military life having left no room for the love many others had found and enjoyed. He had always considered it his duty to provide a world where that love could flourish even if it was not his won and as such he had fought time and again against the enemies of the state. For now he stilled himself to come to terms with his own mortality and that loss, keeping his eyes straight ahead on their destination. His purpose was not to impress or engage the Elven High Command for in his mind he had already done so on the field of battle.

Even if he had lost.

Finally though he approached the tent of the Princess and was seen inside, his eyes widening as he saw her. It was one of the only motions that could be seen in the face kept studiously blank of emotion, for he wanted to give his enemies no weapon to be used against him. Yet there was something there, something in the way he glanced at her, something shown in that one moment as he saw her fully for the first time. She was wondrous. There was something inherently savage in her, something frighteningly tribal and he had little doubt that she was a capable warrior even if he had not seen her on the field of battle itself. Perhaps her people had demanded she not engage for fear of her safety, whatever the reason, she was formidable and he felt it in her presence...that keen intellect and will that drove her. He could not have pointed to what drew him, what made her so much more than any woman he had met before...yet she was. Whether he compared her to royalty, priestess, diplomat, or merchant's wife...she outshone them all merely in the meeting and he wondered if he had made the right choice in coming to beseech her for compassion.

Finally he found himself, moving forward in the tent to be stopped by the attending guardsman. Spears moved to block his path, shielding their Princess and he raised his hands just slightly to show no intention of harm as he sought her eyes. His voice was calm, collected, no fear within the man even though his very life and the life of his empire hung in the balance. He simply said. "I'm come to beg mercy for my people, Princess." There was pride in his words, stoicism that was not impeded by ego, and he slowly went to one knee in a show of obeisance...even though his head did not lower in the act.

 

[Fruit]

She studied him like an eagle eyeing a rabbit. But he was no prey, he beamed confidence even when he bent his knee. Silence filled the room for more than Catelyn would like, everyone stopped what they were doing and listened to the their guest announce his submission. Cassel sighed in relief a little too publicly for Catelyn's taste. I might have him flogged for that. The fool is giving the enemy a sign, albeit false, of our weakness. Rodrik was looking at her and rubbing his beard curiously. "I don't see my hostages with you, Ser" she answered her guest, her eyes still more drawn towards the gigantic map on the oak table in the middle of the tent. She had a woodworker carve the map on the table itself. It took close to a week for him to finish it with full details; it had precise locations of every waterfall, mountain, river, forest, city, stronghold, port and village in all of the land. On the table she had a wooden figure representing her army in front of Valerii. If he bothered to count them, he could surmise our numbers somewhat accurately she thought, was this his plan all along? Stroll into our encampment, look at our provisions and supplies, numbers, weapons, and formation? Arvin should have known better.

She never thought much of humans; they had pesky cities with poor fortifications, and their bravery saves them not when they were heavily out-armed and outnumbered. Their history was rich of victories in epic battles from the days of their grand kingdoms, but now they were a shadow of the past. Tiny fragments divided by borders and different ideals, easy for other races to swallow them into submission. Some chose to submit to Dwarves, others preferred Wraiths, Orcs or Goblins. Valerii was going to be the Elven piece of the cake, her father had always thought, but Aelius looked like a man that wasn't to be underestimated. "I wish I could reward your enthusiasm for leal service, Ser. Rushing to announce your service personally can only attest to that. Alas, Arvin either didn't read to you my demands, or I'm missing something here". He's no idiot. He knows killing him will turn him into a martyr, a heroic legendary figure for his people to die fighting for. I can't afford to make Valerii even more difficult by giving them a symbol to fight for. And he knows I understand that. This man is a genius.

She brushed her fingers across the wooden table, her red eyes glancing at different cities to take after Valerii, and occasionally back to the man in front of her. Her bronze skin looked almost golden with the torches in the tent, they danced as the wind blew, and cast all sorts of shadows in the tent. Her hair was an organized mess, it looked lively, strong, beautiful but barely tended to. Unlike a princess. Her father always said that she had the body of a swan but the heart of a dragon. Her body was lean and feminine, curvy where it mattered and slightly muscular where it didn't. She wore more flesh than armor, but all in all it looked decent, regal, and practical. Her leather jerkin covered her shoulders but exposed her belly. She had a dagger wrapped around her waist, its silver hilt shaped like a wolf's head. It was visible above all the leather and hide she wore around her as a skirt. On her back she had a sword fastened to her with a hilt that matched the dagger.​

 

[Father Figure]

"You miss nothing, Princess."

He did not leave the floor, he did not need to do so, his knee still bent even if his pride was not and his shoulders straightened in the reply. A reminder of his confidence. Even unarmed in that room he seemed more competent than any warrior and there was little doubt that he had already estimated exactly what he could do in that moment. The others might not have noticed, but she did, the way his eyes moved to note the spears that the men had and their lax grip upon them. His body tensed just slightly in anticipation, a readying if he needed to move and the words were ones he did not like, and the mental noting of the distance between the two of them. At any moment he could have had one of those spears in his hands, slamming the butt into Arvin's midsection before arcing the blade through the neck of one of the still armed guard, his feet planting themselves as he chose to lunge forward to extend the weapon in one killing motion...in the hopes of counteracting any attempt by her advisors to protect her. It was all there for her to read...just as he had accepted his death, he very well could take her with him.

Yet he did none of it.

Why did he choose not to act when the options were available to him to do so? Like her, he himself understood the morale of having a martyr to follow, an icon that would rally a cause. It had been on his mind on the way there, the impending death, but she did not move to do anything other than to query him and he could see with ease she was no mere flighty noble playing at general. The forces aligned on the table were by no means easy to see for him, no means easy to interpret, yet the disposition and placement showed an adept sense of battlefield that even the best of his commanders seemed to lack. As his keen eyes glanced down with hers towards the map, his features showed appreciation for the choices made, and nothing was lost on him. Where she might have needed to explain why she had established a flanking action of cavalry, why she had positioned her archers or the hillocks to the west, or why she had swept her phalanxes towards the center to others...she did not have to explain them to Aelius.

He gave a slight glance at the guardsman who stood there, curious as to what they would do when he stood, and slowly he straightened to bring himself to his full height in front of them. Humans were given to a stockiness, a strength of limb and sinew, and a height that the more agile and slender elves had trouble matching...it was no different in this case, a man born to war emphasizing every virtue that humanity could have. He did not move, it would be an idiocy for the moment to do so, and instead his voice continued unwavering with his speech. "Your demands are a burden my people cannot accept. Perhaps with the other races of our world they might have been understood, but our Empire would rather burn than give hostages to fortune and grovel before the Elven people. Yet we are not unreasonable and I pray...I beseech that you are not as well. Allow me to speak for them, allow me to negotiate, to give voice to their fears and come to a solution we can both accept."

 

[Fruit]

When the human general stood tall and proud, the lesser elves around him flinched and clenched their hilts. The scene drew a smile to the relaxed warrior-princess, yet it gave the room an air of awkwardness and unrest. Beyond her tactical mastery, Catelyn was still a young girl. Arrogant and proud, her intelligent brain considered the dangers this man posed, but her pride dismissed it. I can best him in a duel if need be she thought to herself as her eyes studied his muscular body. He towered her tallest henchman by a foot, and herself by two feet. But her knife didn't distinguish between tall men and short dwarves; his height didn't intimidate her. It did, however, win her subtle admiration.

Pride lingered in his voice despite falling on his knees. Negotiation was something she expected and she expected the man to drive a hard bargain. Some of her demands she will have to compromise in order to secure Valerii under the Elven domain. All of that was accounted for when she pushed her initial demands; they were intentionally high to account for these compromises she'd have to make. Such was the way of diplomacy her father had told her. "Ask for the hen so you might get an egg" he had told her once upon a time. His words echoed inside her head at that instant.

They can't see their princess swallow her pride and make compromises. She saw it on their faces as they turned to hear her reply. Half of the younger audience looked like they expected her to order the man's execution. They took his refusal as an insult to their pride. "Pride cuts deeper than swords", that was from her father as well. He told that advice to his war commanders and military strategists, but to his soldiers he'd say "Fear cuts deeper than swords". That left Catelyn wondering whether pride cut deeper than fear. Should I fear him, or don a mantle of arrogant confidence? If she displayed any signs of amiability, her retainers will take it for weakness. However, she knew the importance Valerii held in her father's future plans. A few hundred coins of gold and silver weighed nothing in comparison but she doubted the brutes at her court understood that.

"I'll grant you that wish, Ser Aelius. Everyone is dismissed. Have the cup-bearer fetch us some red wine". It wasn't unheard of to dismiss retainers in meetings like this but that was common when a diplomat is sent. Aelius was clearly a military general, an able warrior like him had to be kept under supervision lest he was an assassin. "Ser Rodrik, you may stay" she added, which put all the puzzled faces to rest. Aelius was unarmed, and both Catelyn and Rodrik were able fighters. If Aelius has ill intent, the two can protect themselves till the rest of the encampment is alerted. Aelius didn't strike Catelyn as an assassin however, he seemed like the sort of man who'd only stab people in the back if he was looking at them in the eyes. Her followers didn't share her instincts, however, and pleasing them was in order.

"You may begin, Ser. Which of my merciful demands did your people find a damned burden?"


​

 

[Father Figure]

His cool eyes watched as she dismissed those who were there to advise her, those that were there to protect her, and he knew that it could not have been something that they would accept easily. There was more at play here than her wish to provide him some measure of saving face, no there was politics involved and he had to work his way through that mire if he would have any chance of success with negotiations. He took his time in studying those that left, not bothering to hide the fact as he stood there, his eyes watching their faces. Elves were an unusual race, but they were not so far different from humanity that he could not grasp which of these so called advisers was an ally of this woman or an enemy. Subconsciously he had already begun viewing her as an ally against those that might pose a threat to what he was proposing and that was a dangerous tact to take, a dangerous line to forget, that they were not on the same side and in fact...she was his conqueror. The thoughts did not make it to his features, but instead were there in those stormy eyes.

He despised politics.

It was why he had not accepted rulership in that fashion, where other men would have bent knee in the hopes of gaining lands and title he had come to sacrifice himself or barter for something better for his people. Politics involved compromise or his morality and there was very little compromise in that area for Aelius Corvus. It had nearly put him in disfavor time and time again with the ruling elite of his people and it was something that had nagged him when he had been offered that position as part of the negotiating tactics of the Elves. How even if he despised it he could potentially provide proper leadership to his people, provide stability, but once more rationality took hold and he reconciled himself to the understanding that the Empire would never stomach a stooge placed upon the throne as a puppet of the Elven people. They would never accept it unless...unless he returned home more a savior than a stooge. It was tempting to consider, but so much would be determined on what this woman would be willing to cede.

His thoughts returned to the here and now, considering what words to speak before finally settling on them. He knew how he must appear in that moment, a man in defeat yet seeming undefeated and he knew it was a tight ropes walk to determine how far he would be capable of convincing this Princess of his words. "A beggared people is no jewel in the crown of the Elven people. The Imperium have lived and thrived as a pinnacle of humankind for centuries and while we may be young in the eyes of your people, we are still worthy of your appreciation. If we are to be made into a city state surely then let it not be one impoverished."

 

[Fruit]

The man's words were eloquent. That doesn't fit the common thought, Catelyn thought. Men were mostly deemed inferior barbaric ruffians by elves, specially by those of high blood like Catelyn, yet all of Catelyn's impressions on humankind seemed to stem from what stories she had been told as a little girl. Elven folklore seemed to always depict humans as courageous but uncivilized characters. They were shown as creatures with weak judgement that is often clouded by emotions. In some stories, the people were submissive and loyal, but in other songs they were treacherous and cunning. During her younger years, 'Jellybelly' had been her father's jester in court, tasked with making her father's guests laugh and dance. The fool would often sing her songs and jiggle his belly to make her laugh, earning him his name. 'He Slew The Bear' was a story about a prince that set out to kill the black grizzly bear that had captured his beloved princess. In that story, the main protagonist was a caring and loyal lover. In another song, 'The Man Who Sold The World', the human character is a perfidious and witty merchant who'd earn a fortune deceiving his elven customers and would end up faking his own death and retire to a small human city. A city just like Valerii.

Thus was the nature of songs and tales Catelyn had grown up listening to. The more bawdy songs were kept from her until she became of age. "The Man Who Fucked The World" was a particularly popular one among the gentry, but so were 'The Foot Long Cock", "Her Tits Mumbled Kisses", and "The Lover's Embrace". All of those songs spoke of human sexual exploits, their relentless libido, and their constant transfixation with intercourse. Women made some of the more expensive prostitutes in most grand capitals in the land. Their thick hair and big busts made them a match for their elven peers, even though the elves were more famous for their peerless skin and petite bodies. Humans were masters in the ways of sex, though, and in that market, experience and skill outweighed aesthetics. Otherwise the mermaids of Karth would have been the most expensive. An elf might as well stick his cock up a fish's arse.

Yet Catelyn was a more informed individual. Her judgement of character transcended preconceived notions and prejudice found in folklore. She read and studied history, and she knew, at least in paper, how to approach a man. While their wisdom may not rival that of elves, their vision wasn't as fogged as a dwarf blinded by greed for gold. Her kind believed that traitors only gave birth to traitors, but Catelyn didn't like to paint with that big a brush. Her father had even decreed that all human residents of the elven capital were exempt from military service because he feared their disloyalty. Oh how he'd love to hear I asked for 3000 of their swords.

"Is it poverty you fear, ser?" Her eyes never left her visitor's. She studied his every flinch, every shift of his eyes and turn of his lips. She examined his tall posture and relaxed hands. Her eyes were full of curiosity and doubt, and impress, no matter how I'd like to deny it. "If you fight out of fear of poverty, I can promise you the riches of the land, Aelius. My scouts tell me of your defensive formation near the hills and on the riverbank. Clever use of terrain. Its elementary but most of the buffoons on my ranks can't name a wedge formation from a crane one". She glanced at Rodrik. The old man took the insult like a sponge. "Yet for every man we kill, you need to kill fifteen elves. For every unit we crush, you need to eliminate five. I can sustain losses for years and years to come, and while your supply depots deplete, my reinforcements will continue to arrive with provisions. Such a shame your talents are dedicated to a losing cause". Catelyn rose from her seat and approached Aelius, her fingers rested gently on his chest as she uttered her next sentence.

"Join me, and you won't fear no poverty nor enslavement"​

 

[Father Figure]

He stepped back from her touch.

He knew it was a dangerous thing to do with the offer so clearly being given, with the way she seemed to wish to take control of the situation through her heady exotic presence and the feel of her words. They had a lilt to them, an intoxicating accent that when formed on the human tongue lent an air of mystique that he had never experienced before, but it was more than that. Her physical presence was powerful, strong and self assured, and that was an enticing duality that he had not found in an elven woman. He had never been touched by one, had only seen them from afar, never having wished to purchase their favors or pursue their ardor. Here now though he was in the presence of a true exemplar of Elvenkind and he felt that he could see himself standing beside her willingly. As she had touched him he had imagined that moment, of perhaps not only standing behind her but standing beside her, and he realized quickly what a poisonous fantasy it was to indulge. He could not allow himself to for a moment believe that it could occur.

So he took that dangerous road and he went down to one knee before her, lowering his head this time in supplication, his voice proud as he spoke plain words of truth to her. "Nay, Lady, you have the wrong of it. It is not poverty I fear, it is dishonor. It is sullying myself and my name in cowardice and defeat and in doing so selling my people into bondage or worse. All citizens have a equal rights under the law, this is a tenet of the Valerii. Even if most of humankind do not follow it, that does not make it any less important that I do so. It is my solemn vow that I gave." He raised his head to gaze up at her, his eyes moving up her lithe form and he could not help but appreciate the angle at which he was given to admire her. Perhaps in that moment she could see the stories that she had heard of in his face, the brief flicker of lust that showed he was as human as any other, yet he contained it in a way that other men would have given in. What kind of man was it that would sacrifice themselves like this, throw themselves on their sword before her? He doubted even her own generals would have done so willingly. Yet it seemed he was.

He knew the moment was a risky one, he was playing with fire, but he had to take these risks to find some measure of safety for his people. His hand came out to bridge the small distance and touch her leg, caressing just slightly before taking hold and his eyes never left her face as he continued his words. "There need be no more death, surely there is a way we can come to terms. I cannot join you, I will not be bought, but my honor can yield. Not to a conqueror, but a savior." It was a risky gamble, but the kind of gamble that could pay off, and much like the stories of old it had it's potential. For in the human stories the elves often came as mystics, as mages, as sorcerer and wise men. It was ingrained in their literature to view the elves as otherworldly, as transcendent, and that undercurrent could serve them well if she chose a differing tact. He did not need to speak to his defensive strategies, to his attempt to establish a last stand against the Elvish Armies. He was speaking of a longer game to play if she was willing to play it with him.

 

[Fruit]

Negotiation was very akin to dancing. When she approached, he withdrew, and when he approached, she withdrew. That was manifested when the man retreated from her touch only to fall on his knees and start feeling her legs. They both sought the same goal, yearned for the same ending, but each wanted to twist the other's hand into submission. While they both wanted a mutually beneficial agreement that promises glory and prosperity to both people, Catelyn was interested in establishing undeniable dominance over the humans, while Aelius was determined to preserve the dignity and safety of his race. One or the other had to swallow their pride and concede that their demands won't be met. The question wasn't about whose argument was more compelling, for some reason, it was about whose resilience was weaker.

She stepped away from him as to continue the dance. She had a vague idea in her mind on what Aelius was eluding to, but her lips dared not confirm it. Instead she dismissed Rodrik with a glance. The confused look on the veteran knight only lasted a few seconds before he nodded obediently and left the tent. He stood next to the entrance with two guards next to him and ensured no one was to disturb the meeting. This gave them the privacy Catelyn suspected that Aelius wanted in order to present his proposal to her. He never showed her hesitation until now, something about the plan he was eluding to intrigued her. It seemed dangerous but promising. The man needed encouragement to speak up and she granted him seclusion.

"Honor" she muttered sultry before she gave way to giggles. Every race as its own interpretation of honor, and Catelyn suspected that philosophical difference is what's causing everyone to fight one another. To dwarves, honor meant almost nothing. You honor your guests with wine, but you don't honor your enemies by following through a signed treaty. As a set of rules it extended only inside their society, and other worldly creatures such as elves and humans were disregarded by the dwarven tradition. On the other end of the spectrum, honor meant everything for humans. To go back on your word is to sign on your death sentence. That much, at least, Catelyn and her people understood, but the humans had a funny way of fanatically applying their honor to everything in life. It wasn't unheard of for some humans to kill their daughters if they had a paramour, nor was it out of place for a man to choose death rather than soil his precious honor. That had always puzzled Catelyn but she came to expect it from the leader of Valerii.

The dance was resurrected when Catelyn resumed the touch. Her hand moved through the man's thick hair, fondly brushing it as if he was a long time lover. "We wouldn't want your honor soiled, ser, now do we? Let us hear your proposal". She wasn't prepared to be entirely amiable to whatever he was about to throw at her, but she knew that everything was negotiable. Every man had a price.​

 

[Father Figure]

She laughed at him?

That might have been the most disturbing aspect of it all, that giggle that came out of her lovely mouth and he felt a small ripple of displeasure move up his spine as he knelt there still on the ground. He had not gone to two knees, not like some supplicant before a god, but he had gone to one as befitted proper deference to a woman who deserved it, so why then did she laugh at him? Was it an elven humor that he did not quite understand? It flummoxed him in a way her armies maneuvers had not been able to do so, this murky and fluid personality that eluded to an intellect and perhaps a sensuality that he had not expected to find. The tilt of his head showed his puzzlement at how he felt concerning it, the shoulders straightening as the blow to his ego was recognizing, but he did nothing so gauge as to respond in kind. No, that would not be something this man could ever do, to show disrespect where respect was earned...though he had to admit to himself that he did not understand it and perhaps her laughter was not one of contempt.

Yet she had given the signal that they could be alone, that they could speak privately, and he wondered at that and her trusting easy way. In one breath she insulted him with her laugh and in another she showed him courtesy in believing his word and honor would hold true and that he posed no threat to her. That alone was worthy of some kind of trust himself, of extending it back to her and recognizing that she might be reasonable, and perhaps there was hope something could be salvaged from this fiasco. His head moved upwards to look at her as she approached him once more before he stilled a measure of shock at her reaching out to touch him again. It was startling, like the feeling of lightning in the air before the storm, and he stifled his arousal as it thundered up within him to set his heart hammering within his chest like the steady thud of the iron worker. His breathing though could not be hidden, the deepening intake of his lungs, or the way his eyes widened at the feeling of her fingers.

Yet she offered him that tenuous hope and more than that, she offered his touch and he could not stop but feel the small thrill of pleasure at that feeling of her dexterous hands moving through his hair. The words to propose anything fled his strong tongue as he tried to find his balance once again in the face of her ardor and his tongue came out to slightly wet his lips in order to regain the ability to speak. His voice was low, lower than it had been, speaking directly to her as he gazed up into her features. "Honor. It is the crux of the problem and the virtue that might save us if you give it life. Let your victory be one not as despot but as liberator, renewing the people's faith in their government. Support me, support a coup, and let my people integrate into your world and not be crushed beneath your boot. It is this ideal which will rally them, the wise elves come to grant us their advise in our desperate times...for they are desperate, are they not?"

 

[Fruit]

Catelyn felt the man's breath under her touch. His warm head rocked gently with every passing breath, and it gave away his emotions like an open book. Nervous, excited, worried, and a little bit aroused. She almost petted him with her hands as if he was a bunny. But with the way he's breathing, he might as well be a dragon. Her father had once told her of her great-great-uncle Wylan and his doomed adventure to the distant island of Verduga. "Poor lad read a few books about dragons and presumed to break one for a mount" her lord-father had said, "But a beast on paper is no beast in flesh". Yet here was Catelyn trying to broker a deal with a creature she knew only from books and old folktales. I can only hope this Aelius can't breathe fire. She wondered if Wylan was truly melted by the dragon flames like the stories suggest. He had never made it back to Elven soil, that much historians agree upon, but some of them argued that Wylan could have managed to tame a dragon.

Her eyes studied the wild man beneath her as he laid out his proposal for her. A safe conquest with minimal losses and absolute annexation of Valerii, what more could she want? It seemed perfect. Too perfect she thought. While she understood that this arrangement would also benefit the humans as it promised them peace and security, as well as elven protection should any army march upon their borders, Catelyn couldn't help but note that this deal could be easily broken by the humans. Even if they regarded the elves as their saviors, the humans had nothing truly twisting them into submission. When the opportunity presents itself, Aelius could turn his cloak like fire spreading the instant it catches wind. It seemed like a good minute of complete silence before she started talking again, her hand still resting on the man's head as if it was her royal scepter.

"I hope you understand that I still need hostages as a token of servitude". A revolt on their back lines as they march further towards the dwarves could send their supply-lines into mayhem and disrupt their campaign. She needed some hostages to prevent the likelihood of that happening. "My royal father has a tradition of taking sons. I'm going to need your youngest son - I wouldn't be so cruel to deny you from tutoring your heir - so I'm sure your wife can understand parting from her youngest. You can tell her and your followers that you intend to send your son to seek tutelage and elven wisdom in our capital. I'd imagine they wouldn't accept a 'savior' to demand a hostage" she retreated from touching his head and went back to study the map and move some pieces around it. She pushed a few wooden peaces from the hills to the city's walls, her archers were now guarding the portcullis while her infantry were posted near the watch towers. It was as if she had conquered the city already.

"When can I expect the city to pledge loyalty? How long do you need to foo- to convince them?"​

 

[Father Figure]

Peace was purchased at the price of flesh.

He had to remind himself of those words as she spoke of his son, of his wife, a wife that he had nearly forgotten about in the presence of this regal and exotic creature. She had almost considered petting him, but he would have allowed it for her, he would have accepted the way she touched him...for he had never felt such an electric connection before. He had no idea how to ascertain what was being thought of behind those foreign features, but in her eyes he was certain that she felt it too. He could read the caution, the consideration, and he wondered if this opportunity could hint at something more. He had offered himself up as a sacrifice of sorts, but how much would he sacrifice when the time came to make those decisions? How far would he go to protect the people that he had sworn to love and obey...in favor of his new master? It was an unsettling thought and one quickly discarded as unworthy. Unworthy of himself and unworthy of the woman he was swearing fealty too, for it was not her Father that he was giving an oath, but the warrior who had bested him.

How long would it take to fool his people? To convince them? It would not take long, not once they understood the crushing defeat that faced them. Not when he expressed to them the elven horde so that they could appreciate in abject horror the power that aligned against them. It was not the elven conquering that they might not accept, it was the military coup that came with it, that would cause the danger. Not his people, nor his soldiers, but the politicians and nobility that stood nothing to gain save hostages to fortune and the loss of wealth and status. It was they that might rally their banners to strike against Aelius and it was that which factored into the actual answer to how much time would be taken in settling any disputes with the factions of the Empire. His Empire. That was as alien a thought as the hand that touched him, and his jaw set in certitude as he came to his decisions. It was evident she did not know the man...at least not as much as she let on. They were both alien to one another, the understanding of each other more primal than a true measure. It was this inconsistency which might very well be there downfall if they were not careful.

Aelius wore more than a cloak made of cloth, he wore one made of honor, and it was that honor which would solidify the alliance between the two of them. He had no need for a hostage held to ensure his good behavior, for he considered his word and his deeds ironclad, a surety to the safety of his people. Yet he had to remind himself once more that often peace was forged in this fashion, and he could not prevent himself from his own planning, realizing that his son would be in a unique position for his people. He could learn from the elves, grow amongst them, and benefit from not only his tutelage but some of the most ancient knowledge that the world had to offer. There would be none amongst humanity that could boast of such a claim and perhaps that alone was the selling point that he could accept and yield too. His voice held a measure of that resignation as he finally spoke, having not risen from his knees, but continuing to watch the woman who moved her the pieces with such eerie grace.

"I accept. It will be no more than a month, considering the distance and the timing taken to establish...an understanding amongst my people. The Valerii will honor the peace agreements that we forge here today. Is that acceptable in your eyes?"

 

[Fruit]

"No", the elf hissed instantly. "I will not wait a month for the possibility that your city might bend the knee". Their provisions didn't allow for such an endeavor. The whole point of negotiating this surrender was to cut the time and resources it would take to trample this city. Saving lives wasn't Catelyn's goal, it was a mere side effect of her plans. To wait a month is to stall her ambitions for longer than she'd care. Furthermore, she would be giving the humans an opportunity to fortify their defenses. Her army was riding on high morale, she could only speculate how such a long wait could sap their fighting spirit. "You have two weeks before my battering rams come knocking on your walls. I have faith in your ability to convince your people to capitulate. You're dismissed, Ser".

---

"We will not yield!" Lianna repeated the words for the tenth time that day. She had to whisper them to herself three times to persuade herself that it was the truth, then she took it upon herself to beat them into every person who came knocking on her door that day. Aelius isn't the sort of man to bend over and swear fealty the moment someone threatens our people. Not the Aelius I married, she kept telling herself, yet she struggled to make her fantasies as vivid as the sobering realty. Aelius had left earlier that morning with the elven emissary when the elves solicited surrender. He rode without protection, and informed no one of his plans nor his anticipated return. We would never know it if they had him killed. Perhaps I should send a spy.. she bit her lips in nervousness. She hated when her husband left her in the dark like this. The fate of Valerii rested on their shoulders, and now she was the only one representing the Corvus bloodline in Valerii. Her eldest son, Robert, was twelve springs of age, not old enough to counsel a clansleader let alone lead a nation. Her two other daughters, Lysa and Yara, and her youngest son, Davos, were all peacefully playing in their garden. She watched them play in the dirt and sighed.

And there was Edward Corvus. With Aelius away, people are now rallying around the bastard. Somehow that didn't surprise the blonde woman. Despite his soiled honor, Edward always had a tongue that could sway impulsive youths and wise men alike. She watched from her window as her brother-in-low addressed a crowd of armed men. "Our forefathers had instilled within us the will to fight. They taught us that no victory comes without necessary sacrifice. They planted within us the desire to resist, survive, and thrive in the face of adversary!". That much we agree on she thought to herself, her teeth gritting nervously like a woman about to give birth. "They also taught us honor. Something that distinguishes us from the savages and lowlifes around us. But what good is honor if it cost us our lives?" Edward's eyes met Lianna's, as if directing her question to her. "What good is honor if it led to corpses on the walls of Valerii? If it led to our bloodline's extermination? If it meant our children were taken as slaves, and our wives as whores? My brother was an honorable man, and they likely have him detained in their camp right now. Should we wait like hens about to be slaughtered? Or should we raise our spears, notch our bows, and unsheathe our swords for Valerii?!"

Aelius will not approve of this, she bit her lips. She wanted to leave the comfort of her walls to address the growing crowd in front of her doorsteps. She wanted to assure them her husband was safe and on his way to return. It was her duty to keep the people content. Aelius always worked for that, and if he returned to a dissettled city his work would become harder. Yet what could she possibly say to soothe their worries if she, herself, was ridden with doubts and discontent? She had no way of proving to them that her husband was safe. No way of assuring them that they will repel the elven invasion. And instead of even trying to fulfill her duty, she watched the criminal her husband had denied any position of leadership hijack her people and rally them to his own cause. She felt as feeble as a declawed cat.

"AELIUS IS BACK!!" The watcher announced from a top his tower. News spread like forest fire as the gates opened for the leader of Valerii.

The gods are kind
​

 

[Father Figure]

Lianna's opinion would surely change.

Aelius had not returned with the blessings of the gods, at least no gods that they believed in.