The Elf King - Rathilion

Chapter 2

-Valindra-

“But I don’t want to go!” I exclaimed, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I am your father, and you will do as I say!” my father retorted, no longer concerned about the ruined dinner and fully committed to this argument.

“I told you I don’t want to! Why do I have to?” I yelled.

“Because I told you to! We are all going!”

“But why me? You have other daughters!”

“But you are the beautiful one among them,” he remarked, as if the others weren’t present to hear him.

I had heard this before, not just from him or my mother, but from others as well. The lords and ladies of the West always judged me by my looks, making me want to disappear. It wasn’t as if my other sisters, one older and one younger, were any less beautiful, at least not in my eyes. I just happened to be the one who inherited my mother’s golden hair and purple eyes, which had made her the most sought-after woman at those parties in her day.

Yet all I wanted to do was sit in a quiet library, reading books until I had devoured everything out there. Then I would read everything again, just to get a taste of what truly happened beyond the protective woods where we lived.

“I don’t want to,” I insisted.

“You don’t have a choice. I will drag you!” my father threatened.

“You have two other daughters, just as beautiful!” I argued. “They are even more interesting! I am a bore. We all know it. I have looks, that’s it, and no one wants to get close to the rest of me. They can catch the king’s attention. Therefore, you don’t need me!”

I rose from my seat around the table, the chair scraping against the floor with an awful sound that made me flinch. I didn’t care for loud noises. They made my ears ring. That’s why a quiet library was the perfect refuge for me.

“I won’t take any chances!” my father asserted.

“You make it sound like this is a matter of life and death. It’s just marriage!” I retorted.

“A marriage to the king!” he countered.

“Yes, so an unpleasant one.”

My mother gasped, and I turned to her, rolling my eyes. So dramatic.

“I won’t go,” I declared, cold and resolute.

I usually kept my words to a minimum, but when it came to MY future and MY hand in marriage, I had plenty to say.

“You will!”

“Then I suppose you’ll have to drag me! Because my feet won’t move on their own!”

“I will, Valindra!”

“Go ahead!” I screamed at him, before turning around and practically running out of there, unable to spend another moment in that dreadful room.

I stormed outside the grand house into the forest that loomed behind it, not bothering to think it through, just craving escape. I wasn’t certain if I was fleeing or simply running. I hadn’t made up my mind yet. I just ran and ran until my legs began to ache and tremble, and my lungs burned. Eventually, I slowed down. My dress wasn’t suited for running, and I had lost a shoe on my way outside.

Standing there, gasping for breath, I bent halfway over, resting my hands on my thighs. This was unbearable! Why couldn’t my father understand? My sisters were sufficient. They didn’t need me! I just wanted out. I wanted to go anywhere! Somewhere I could escape all of this, but where?

There was no place I could flee where my father couldn’t track me down…

I knew I had to return, even though my heart urged me to keep running. I knew there was no eluding him. With a sigh, I turned away, just as I heard something rustle in the nearby bushes. It was difficult to discern in the darkness, far from the mansion we called home. Yet, it didn’t matter when a loud roar pierced the night, and before I could react, I was knocked to the ground. I felt the sharpness of claws sinking into my skin.

At least if I perished… I’d never have to marry.

-Rathilion-

“Your mind is troubled.”

My mother joined me on the balcony, gazing out at the vibrant forest illuminated by myriad colors in the night. It was even more alive than in the daytime.

“When isn’t it these days?” I replied, taking a sip of the wine swirling in the silver cup in my hand.

“You’re attempting to mend the rift between you two,” she observed, placing a hand on my arm resting on the railing.

“I don’t want this, but I don’t know what to do for him anymore.”

“And you think this marriage will make him happy?” she inquired.

“At least I would have done something right in his eyes,” I replied, my tone harsher than intended.

My mother wasn’t my adversary, but it was difficult to rein in my frustration. This marriage, everything about it, was to placate him, to offer him a concession after I had taken so much.

“You stood up for what you believed in,” she reassured me, her voice calm and collected. “There’s never anything wrong with that.”

“I don’t think he sees it that way.”

“Or perhaps your frustration stems from elsewhere? Maybe there’s a woman who holds your heart already?” she probed.

I met her gaze, noting the slight smile on her lips and the sparkle of knowing in her eyes. She always saw through me.

“I often see Sarya in the hallways,” she remarked. “Sneaking in and out of your room.”

I averted my eyes. Sarya doesn't hold my heart, I mused as I drained the last of my wine.

“Or perhaps it’s a formidable queen you still think about?” she suggested, already aware of the answer.

“She’s already taken,” I admitted.

“Then look ahead,” she urged. “Not back.”

“I know I need to look forward. I understand what I must do, which is why I’m doing this.”

“You make it sound like you’re going to battle,” she remarked.

“In a sense, I am. I never fancied these sorts of parties. I know how to fight, but this… this is not my forte, and marriage, I fear I might be even worse at. Nonetheless, the throne requires a successor, and perhaps… perhaps it might just bridge the rift between my father and me.”

“So, you sacrifice your own happiness for him?”

“What do you want me to do, Mother?” I responded. “I can’t have the woman I want.”

“And Sarya isn’t a woman you could want?” she probed.

“It isn’t like that between us, and besides, that wouldn’t really please Father.”

“No, but she does make you happy.”

“Yes,” I acknowledged.

“All I want, my son,” she said, drawing closer to me and placing her hands on my cheeks. She was only slightly shorter than me, a tall and striking woman with white hair like mine and pale skin, adorned in a flowing white dress. She exuded a regal air, akin to that of a goddess, a sentiment echoed by many. “Is your happiness.”

“And Father?”

“I will always remain loyal to him too. He is my husband, but I don’t wish to see you unhappy. That would hurt me more,” she assured me.

“He won’t forgive me. Perhaps this will prompt him to speak to me, and… and I do need an heir.”

“Your happiness,” she reiterated, slowly releasing her hold on me. “All I want.”

With that, she turned away and departed, and I watched her until she vanished from sight before turning to gaze at the forest, feeling conflicted.