Private Tales For King and Country

[Faulkin]

"Son of a..."

Alwin pulled hard on the reigns of his horse, rearing it around and bolting off in the direction of the screams. But... there was something about it. He knew those voices. And they weren't the hollers of the battle hardened soldiers they came from.

---

Riding over a small hill, they saw well enough where the camp lay. And in its place was a great blaze. And there before it, he could see figures moving... fighting. Drawing closer with ever moment, he soon realized that they were not the first ones to return to camp. Tor and his party had returned, and it looked as though when they did they had found their unwelcome company lingering.

Though all of this, the ruined camp, the uncertain fates, this all at first filled his heart with dismay, with a deep breath he drew in his confidence and one thought crossed his mind.

For the Captain.

For Yvaine.
​

He drew out his sword, holding it high, hollering out to the men and women riding alongside he and Olwynn.

"To the Captain!"

And behind him they called out together, "to the Captain!"

---

Tor swung his hammer down with a frantic urgency he'd never before known. Having come upon the camp in a ruined blaze, surrounded by the demons, and no sign of the Captain or Yvaine...

He'd gone into a frenzy.

He'd become so desperate that all sense seemed to leave him, try as he might to maintain it. But with the oaths given to men, some now dead and gone, pulling at his heart with every thundering beat, there was only one answer that would sate this immeasurable need in him. Though it was, to everyone's relief whether they realize it or not, that when Alwin, Olwynn and the rest of their party charged in and joined the fray, this desperation in him lessened some.

"Alwin," he called out as the young swordsman rode past with Olwynn at his side, "no sign of her!"

---

Yvaine ​

 

[Yvaine]

Olwynn's heart raced, her pulse hammering in her ears as she heard Tor's words. The panic surged through her veins like wildfire, igniting her desperation. Yvaine was supposed to be under her protection, a guiding light on a path fraught with darkness, and now she was missing, swallowed by the chaos of the camp.

"No sign of her!" Tor's voice echoed in her mind, and without a second thought, Olwynn slipped from her saddle, landing gracefully on the scorched ground. Her eyes quickly scanned the little battlefield that had been their camp, searching the floor, the scattered bodies both friend and monstrous foe. The flames danced around her, and she felt their heat, their energy calling to her.

Drawing her twin blades, she moved with practiced ease, her steps deliberate and purposeful. The hellhound beasts, monstrous black, furless dogs with three heads and red eyes, advanced toward her, their razor-sharp teeth gleaming menacingly. Olwynn's breath hitched for a moment, but she steeled herself, focusing on the task at hand.

The first hellhound lunged, its middle head snapping at her with vicious intent. She sidestepped, her blade slicing through the air with precision, striking the beast's flank. The hellhound yelped in pain, but it was far from defeated. The other two heads snarled, their eyes burning with rage.

The second beast charged, its powerful legs propelling it forward. Olwynn spun gracefully, her blades a blur as they met the creature's attack. She slashed at its legs, forcing it to stumble, and with a swift upward strike, she drove one of her blades into its chest. The beast howled, a guttural sound that reverberated down her spine, but she didn't relent.

The third hound circled her, its three heads snapping and growling. Olwynn felt the heat of the flames growing more intense around her, and she used it to her advantage. Summoning her inner strength, she reached out with her free hand, drawing energy from the blaze. The fire responded to her call, swirling around her arm like a living entity.

With a fierce determination, Olwynn channeled the flames into her blades, their edges glowing with fiery intensity. The third hellhound lunged, and she met its attack head-on, her blazing weapons searing through its flesh. The creature recoiled, its cries of agony mixing with the crackling of the fire.

Olwynn pressed her advantage, her movements fluid and deadly. She struck with both blades, slicing through the hellhound's heads with a precision born of years of training. The beast fell, its lifeless body collapsing to the ground in a heap.

Breathing heavily, Olwynn glanced around the battlefield. The blaze continued to rage, but the immediate threat had been dealt with. She knew there were still more enemies to face, but her mind was consumed with finding Yvaine. The fear and desperation gnawed at her.

"Any sign of the Captain?" she shouted to the others, her voice filled with urgency as she tore her way through the camp, searching frantically. "Yvaine?!"

Dead faces stared up at her, people she had come to know, had shared meals and stories with, but none were the faces of Yvaine or Faulkin. Perhaps they fled, she thought, but the notion quickly died as her gaze caught the glint of silver in the grass.

Olwynn sheathed a blade and knelt to lift the chain into her palm, staring down at the crystal carved into the shape of a star, and she swore under her breath.

"They have her."

 

[Faulkin]

Lyddglesta - Northeastern Sheketh

While they were arguably in the safest place they could possibly find in Sheketh, this city had quickly become the last place he wanted to be. Well, almost the last place, anything beat the hell out of that torture chamber that thing had kept them in for however long... or the Sheketh wilds. He didn't think they could have lasted any longer than they had out there, well at least he couldn't have.

If they'd only known that they walls they saw rising up as they crested one final hill weren't the walls of the bastion they were looking for.

---

Water splashed underfoot with each hurried step. The streets down here in the shallows were often flooded, especially with the incessant rain. He pulled his hood a little closer.

He, with a couple of others, made their way quickly through the narrow street. They didn't want to be seen by many others. And so they were quick to duck down an even narrower path between two tall buildings, this alley darker than most. But down through to the other side, into a small hovel of a dead end, they darted across the street and up a short set of steps into a place whose windows were covered.

Inside, Faulkin, an older man, and an elf shed themselves of their drenched overcoats, and hung them by the door. Then they entered further into what was once a very grand home. It was now refuge for those like these men, and Faulkin and Yvaine and many others, others who would be victims of the corruption in this dreary city - if not for those who'd had enough.

But getting into this city was the easy part...

"That was a little too close," said the man, whose name was Blaine, as he moved toward the fireplace. It was rather large, and around it several others were sat with warm drinks, and plenty left for them.

"At least," said the elf, "we managed to do what we set out to. When they go to move those prisoners, both gates will come sliding off."

As the other two gloated about their escapades, Faulkin quickly took up the search for Yvaine. But there were four stories of needy people, she could be anywhere.

---

Yvaine ​

 

[Yvaine]

Yvaine sat on the worn, wooden floor of the old manor house, surrounded by a small group of children who had taken refuge within its crumbling walls. The dim light of a single candle flickered, casting a soft glow that contrasted with the chilly damp of the room. She held a cold compress against the forehead of a fevered child.

Bruises marred Yvaine's body, the remnants of the torture she had endured echoing in the sharp twinges that shot through her with every movement. Her wounds were hastily wrapped, each bandage a reminder of the darkness she had faced. Yet in this moment, surrounded by the innocent faces of those she was determined to protect, she found a thread of strength.

“Now, close your eyes,” Yvaine said softly to the child in her arms, her voice gentle and soothing.

The other two children nestled closer, their wide eyes fixed on her, eager for comfort. Yvaine smiled, drawing on the warmth within her as she began to weave a tale, her voice a calming lullaby amidst the chaos that raged beyond these walls.

“Long ago, in a land of shimmering stars and sparkling rivers, there lived a brave little girl,” she started, the memories of her own childhood filling her with bittersweet warmth as she recalled her mother's stories. “She had a heart as bright as the sun and a spirit that could light up the darkest night.”

As she spoke, the children leaned closer, captivated by her words. She described the girl’s adventures, the friends she met along the way, and the magical creatures that helped her in her quests. Each word was a thread, weaving a tapestry of hope to shield them from the harsh reality outside.

“But even in the darkest times,” Yvaine continued, her voice steady despite the tremors in her heart, “the brave little girl knew she was never truly alone. The stars watched over her, lending her their light so that she could always find her way."

She paused, glancing down at the feverish child in her lap, feeling their soft breaths against her arm. The compress was growing warmer, but she refused to let go, focusing her energy on soothing them.

“Just like that little girl, you have the strength within you,” she said, looking into the eyes of the other children. “Even when the night feels long and the shadows are at their darkest, you have each other. Together, you can face anything.”

As she spoke, Yvaine felt the stirrings of her own courage rising. Each story she shared was a balm to her own wounds, a reminder that there was light even in the darkest places. With every word, she infused hope into their fragile hearts, determined to protect them from despair.

But in the back of her mind, worry gnawed at her. Where was Faulkin? She hated when he left. The fear of what lay outside this place pressed against her, mingling with the urgency of her need for him to return. She needed him to be safe; she needed to be with him.

Just then, the sound of footsteps echoed on the staircase, breaking through her thoughts. She looked up, holding her breath, hope flickering in her chest.

 

[Faulkin]

He'd heard her voice, her soothing tones. He'd know them anywhere. He followed them, soon hearing her words more clearly.

He stepped out from the dim light of the hall and into the chamber she'd rounded the children up into. His rough and tired features softened at the sight before him, and he smiled. He cast the children a quick glance, but he devoted his eyes to her.

He'd have reached for her, but she was in these moments playing a far more important role. He could wait.

"We were successful," he said instead, coming near and sitting close-by. And they had been. Totally. No one got seen, no one got hurt, and everyone got out - except for those already imprisoned. Some of those people were friends, captured so that himself and others were able to escape. But, as he had said, they'd seen to that.

"How is the little one," he asked, his eyes peering down at the youth she cradled in her lap.

He felt something, not quite a nervousness but it felt similar. But it brought him no anxiety, or sense of excitement - not exactly. Drawing in a deep breath and looking up at her again, he placed it.

It was pride. He felt proud.

---

Yvaine ​

 

[Yvaine]

Yvaine's breath hitched the moment he entered the room. Relief washed over her at the sight of him, and her shoulders relaxed, tension unwinding as her gaze took in his reassuring smile. He was safe; they’d all made it back. It was all she could do not to rush over and throw her arms around him, but the sleeping child in her arms kept her grounded in her role, her gentle presence needed here first.

She smiled as he sat close, the warmth of his nearness seeping into her as she answered, "She’s strong." Yvaine looked down at the little girl with tenderness, stroking her hair as her eyelids drooped sleepily. With a quiet touch, she shifted the girl from her lap, laying her on the blankets and tucking her in securely. The other children, huddled close, watched him with half-lidded eyes, barely awake as they drifted off one by one.

Rising to her feet, she turned toward him and reached for his hand, eyes filled with both gratitude and weariness. She managed a soft smile, but there was a sadness that lingered in her gaze as she looked back at the children, tiny breaths soft and even as they finally found peace in sleep.

"Children should not have to live in fear," she whispered, her voice barely carrying, as though the weight of her words was too much to lift. She leaned into him, allowing herself a brief moment of vulnerability as she rested her head against his shoulder. His steady presence grounded her, the strength he radiated offering her the hope she desperately needed.

"Thank you," she murmured, her fingers brushing lightly against his. "For bringing them back... for being here." The words were simple, but behind them was a depth of gratitude, a silent promise that she would hold on for as long as he was there with her.

 

[Faulkin]

It was hard to hide the relief in his breath as she drew into him. For as much of a comfort she silently proclaimed him to be, she was just the same for him. These moments, brief as they could be, took everything else away for that time.

It made the rest bearable.

"These people are resourceful, really I should be thanking them for bringing me back," he said with a smile, his hand brushing through her hair to tuck it behind her ear, "and they should be thanking you for tending to these little ones."

He knew they did.

He cast a final look to the children, now resting peacefully, and then tilted his head toward the door. Her work here was done, and he was hungry.

"Let's go get something to eat."

---

Yvaine ​

 

[Yvaine]

Yvaine took his hand, fingers intertwining with his as he led her down the dim hallway, past the soft flicker of candlelight and muffled voices, until they found a quiet corner with a makeshift table. The scent of warm broth and freshly baked bread hung in the air, a simple comfort amidst the chaos.

She settled into her seat across from him, tucking her shawl tightly around her shoulders, hiding the angry marks that marred her skin. The steam from her bowl curled into the air, and she blew gently on a spoonful of soup, eyes flicking up through her lashes to him. The sight of his face—still bearing the fading bruises and cuts—made her heart ache in a way she hadn’t yet found the words for. It was strange to sit like this, with the memory of pain still sharp in her mind, yet surrounded by the sounds of life moving forward, carrying on.

She turned her eyes back to her broth, avoiding the unspoken concern between them.

"She needs medicine," Yvaine said quietly, breaking the silence that hung between them. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the weight of worry she still carried for the children and the people here, trapped by more than just city walls.

A moment passed before she looked up, meeting his eyes with a tired but determined expression. "They all do. We’re safe now, but... they aren’t."

The weariness in her voice was undeniable, but so was the fire that hadn’t been extinguished.

 

[Faulkin]

Though he did his best to ignore the obvious, it was clear that his mind was a plagued by the recent past as much as hers. In some ways, though he did not think of it was such, their current situation was a blessing. It helped him to focus on the now, and not let the sting of failure wrack through his mind each time he noticed the marks left upon her.

Even as they sat there with the soup, his eyes cast down into the bowl, his free hand tightened together a little at the mention of safety.

It was true, they were far, far safer now than they had been. But he also wondered how long it would be until the trials of this city had once again become the least of their problems. How long until they were found, if not by the ones they contended against now, but those who he knew still sought them. Still sought her.

He drew his spoon to his mouth, as casually as he could.

"It seems like everyone in this city is sick... if not in their heart, then in their body," he said, setting his spoon down he reached across the table to her, looking up from his bowl finally, "we will do everything we can, but I will not let anything happen to you again."

He'd barely mentioned what had happened, and in truth, his words now only fell out. He had never been one to avoid anything before, but he couldn't bear it. Not this.

His eyes tightened, his concern pasted plainly on his face, but he stifled any further words. She knew, she always knew. But here, like with his men, he felt the weight of his responsibility. The Captain. That's what they needed him to be, just like these people needed now, just like he had always been. But he was more than that now. As he looked into Yvaine's golden eyes, this he knew.

---

Yvaine ​

 

[Yvaine]

Yvaine’s golden eyes lifted to his face, studying the familiar contours that had become a map of her resilience. She could see the way the tension coiled in his jaw, the storm that still lingered in the blue of his eyes. Her hand, resting on his, squeezed gently—a gesture as steadying for her as it was meant to be for him. She drew in a slow breath, letting it soothe the ache that rose in her chest as she watched him.

It was a promise he shouldn’t make, one that only added to the burden he already carried. She knew how deeply he felt the weight of their suffering, the guilt he took upon himself as though it was his to bear alone.

“You didn’t let anything happen to me, my love,” she whispered, her voice warm, but firm. Her thumb traced soothing circles over his knuckles. “There are some things that are not within our control. We both chose to walk into this darkness. I am safe, we both are, and that is down to you.."

The sadness that settled in her smile was undeniable, but so was the unwavering strength behind it. She leaned closer, searching his eyes as if to convey everything words couldn’t. “You have given everything to protect us, to protect me. But we have to remember that we’re stronger together. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

Still, the path ahead was uncertain. The shadows of the past had not fully loosened their hold, and beyond the fragile safety of these walls, the city pulsed with corruption and danger. She glanced toward the window, the dim lights of Shekketh casting jagged shapes on the floor, then back to him.

"How many men and women here can fight?" she asked.

The room around them seemed quieter now, the makeshift shelter holding its breath as they shared that moment. Whatever trials lay beyond the door, whatever dangers awaited in the city’s twisted alleys, they would face them side by side. And in that promise, Yvaine hoped he could find some measure of peace.

 

[Faulkin]

They'd been over this before, several times now. But, for as much as she had assured him, he still could not accept it. Not all of anyway. He smiled at her, and nodded as he conceded that they were indeed stronger together, through anything. But in spite of all her truths, there was still one thing he could not accept.

The sounds of her pained voice in his mind. Echoing from far away, out of sight.

The sound of his chains pulling tight.

Powerless.
​

That had been his fault. He couldn't stop them, even though they'd managed to get away. But that was hardly his doing either.

Thankfully, her question roused him out of his quickly swirling thoughts, rescuing him for the despair that threatened to wash over him.

He gave his head a little shake, "very well? Just over a dozen. Well enough?..." he cast a short look over his shoulder as he contemplated a few more faces, and then said, "maybe thirty or more altogether, but..." he shook his head again, "these are good people. I trust them. I just don't know how much longer they can keep on doing this."

---

Yvaine ​