§Author’s note: This story was based on logs of in-game events. Especially the dialogues were taken from logs and screenshots as this bit of RP was perhaps some of the most intense either player had had on those particular characters. In fact, the life of one of the characters was literally laying in the balance of a cointoss behind the scenes. Whether or not they make it out alive is something I will leave for you to discover by reading it.
This piece of fiction is the first in a long time as I have simply not had the time to dedicate to fiction for personal use. And I would like to take the opportunity to thank Seaver – friend and most awesome RP partner!
Feedback is most appreciated and can be given by sending a PM to the author.§
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Oh, if only things were simple in life. No cares, no strife, no turmoil… Some would be of the opinion such a life is but a dream; unrealistic and perhaps a handful might even suggest it to be boring. Maybe they are right. But when your strife and turmoil threatens your life significantly, would you still consider it to be enjoyable? Would you not wish for a life of peace and quiet?
Times had been hard on Erinwyn. Her new lifestyle, one of taking care of children and being supportive to the man she loved were catching up to her. It had only truly deteriorated at a rapid speed, after Rowena was born. The conflict the birth had caused had nearly torn her apart, much to her own surprise. Until then, she had been under the impression that nothing was too difficult; if you could stand your ground as a female amongst men in an army, you could take care of an infant. However, that tiny little infant had proved her wrong.
For weeks, she had been traversing the house, streets as an empty husk. Further and further, she withdrew within herself and no longer paid the heed she should have to her better half. She simply did not see as a result of inner turmoil and conflict. Picking up Rowena frightened her, fearing she would drop the small girl. As soon as the baby cried, Erin would panic, second-guessing herself every single step of the way. It had come to a head, when Rowena stopped feeding from her mother’s breast. Erinwyn’s world collapsed and she had withdrawn even further. After all… what mother could not even feed her own infant? Only a failure would have this happen to her, right?
With this frame of mind firmly in place, the usually so friendly and helpful lass found herself in a dark place, and lacking any form of outlet. She could not tell Seaver, or so she felt. The darkness that had taken hold of her mind made her believe that he would abandon her, that he would see her for the failure she was; not even able to feed her own child. These thoughts tormented her worse each day, clouding her view from what was truly at stake.
It had not gone unnoticed. To no avail, Seaver had tried to connect with her, to find out what was ailing her. But not once did she open up to him. Rather, she shut him out, with the intention of sparing him the embarrassment of the mother of his child being a failure.
And for Seaver, this was causing more than one problem. Not only was she the woman he loved and to see her slip away was of course terrible, but in addition, she was also the factor that kept him stable… In a manner of speaking. It would only be a matter of time before the proverbial volcano would erupt, and then there was still the question; would there be a life to salvage, literally or figuratively?
“Seaver, please… let me explain…” Erin’s voice betrayed the myriad of conflicting emotions that had taken a hold of her. Trying to explain a sense of misery after such a joyous an event, such as a birth, was a fool’s errand. Especially when clarifying this to a Man, who would never give birth himself – only contributed there to.
“What else is there to explain Erin. You lied to me, kept things from me.” His words cut deep as he was under the impression that she had had these doubts and fears since the beginning of their relationship, leaving him to feel betrayed.
“But I didn’t lie to you! I am not denying that I should have told you sooner, but how did you think I felt, having to tell the man I love how much of a failure I am at raising his child… that I am a failure as a woman?” She retorted, but only half-heartedly. Guilt and embarrassment were taking their toll, only adding to the scrutiny she felt from him. Of course, he was fully within his right to be so angry; she had hidden her mental suffering from him. But lying…? No. Never. She could not, would not stoop to something like that. Disappointment at his judgment of her behaviour and failure to listen to her crept in. She was at the end of her tethers. “No, love,” She couldn’t help the term of affection, it came so naturally. “I never lied to you. I hid my fears and doubts about being a mother, once I was a mother… but nothing else… Not before. I promise you, Seaver… it all began after her birth…”
It finally seemed as though he believed her, and who could blame his hesitation? After all, he could not, nor would he ever, be able to go through what a woman goes through after giving birth. He nodded. “You still kept it from me, Erin. When I needed you, when I wanted you, you weren’t there.”
His words stung, but she could not fault him. In fact, she had not denied her troubles and the effects they had had on their relationship. All she tried to do was give some manner of clarification. She owed him that much, she felt.
Later that day, the sound of an infant’s wail sounded through the house, just as Erinwyn was tidying up the remnants of their evening meal. Panic surfaced within her, but she knew, if she wished for the relationship to return to its former glory, she had to set aside her fears. To return to the bravery she had shown before, the determination and undaunted manner with which she overcame each obstacle – and ultimately had led her to a new lease on life. Seaver was that chance, a kindred spirit with whom she could build the life she had deemed lost long ago.
With a sharp intake of breath, she moved to the bedroom where the infant’s cot stood. Each step still showed hesitation, but also the faint will to move forward. For her, Rowena. For Seaver. For Leofric – Seaver’s young brother, left in Seaver’s care upon the death of their father Siward. The boy, scarcely more than a toddler, was raised to believe Seaver was his father. And now, Erinwyn was his mother, and she loved him as fiercely as were he her own.
Every step brought her closer to the simple wooden cot where Rowena lay amongst sheepskins covering a small mattress and with blankets to keep her warm. The greatest of care was put into lifting the small baby girl, who seemed to have missed her mother as much as her father had. As soon as she was held cautiously against Erinwyn’s chest, the crying ceased, an action that coaxed a small smile from the woman who stared at the tiny miracle she helped create as though it was the very first time.
Careful so as not to trip, Erin shuffled to the sitting room. Albeit small, there was a victory, though not enough to serve as the much-needed confidence required to warm milk whilst holding the child. She needed assistance.
“Seaver…? I am sorry to bother you, but I need some help. I cannot warm her milk and hold her at the same time… what if I drop her…?” Erin spoke meekly, apologetically. All too aware she was that the mistake was hers and the remedy thus had to be hers also.
Seaver closed the book he was reading and walked over. Taking over the small child, he smiled broadly at her, doting affection upon her. “Come to daddy.” He cooed, lifting his daughter from Erin’s arm.
“Thank you.” Erin murmured and as she went to prepare milk for Rowena, Seaver sat back down on the bench, holding the infant.
Indeed, it was a blessing she was so young, too young to read or understand drawings, for the books holding her father’s interest were of the cruel kind – filled with gruesome details of torture devices and how to operate them in order to inflict the most excruciating pain whilst keeping one’s victim alive as long as necessary. The tell-tale sign of his preference of literature was enough to alarm any individual. But in the haze she had spent in the past weeks… months… Erin had not noticed. Until then, that was.
Returning with a skin bladder filled with warm milk, Seaver handed the child back to Erinwyn, who took his place on the bench in order to feed Rowena. At this point, of course, she could not help but notice the subject matter of the books.
“Seaver… I do not mean to meddle, but… this is something I have never seen of you. And what if Leofric finds them…?”
“He won’t.” He retorted.
“That does not make me any less concerned about it…” Was her reply, peering at him with grey eyes that reflected her deep concern. “In all the time I have known you, you have never shown an interest in torture devices… unless you kept that hidden from me?”
“I have my reasons.” He stated coldly.
“I am sorry for prying, but what ever could those reasons be…? There is a distinct difference between killing and inflicting pain… You have never had that wish before, Seaver, despite your… urges.”
Seaver shut the book on a page detailing a walk-by assassination using a concealed sword in a cane. “I must admit my skill-set is geared towards a quick termination of a target, not this. But some people deserve to feel pain. Do you not believe me if I tell you I have my reasons?”
“Love, I support you in a great many things… I have from the start… but this…? You always have your reasons for everything you do, but this is a road of corruption that… do you truly wish to lower yourself to such levels of depravity…?” Erinwyn inquired, almost oblivious to the fact that their baby daughter was suckling her milk from the skin bladder. It seemed too unreal.
“For this particular case, I feel it fitting. Poetic even.” A faint smile touched his lips; it was cruel and cold.
A sudden flash of realization chilled her to the bone. She knew, instinctively, who the target was. A cruel man indeed who was known to torture his victims in order to gain information from them. She had tried to track him down before, but his band of hirelings had always successfully erased his tracks. Cyfier. “Poetic? You don’t mean…”
“It means what it means.” Seaver smirked slightly. Having done his research, he leaned back on the stool. Calm of composure.
“If it is who I think it is, and his rat-pack of miscreants get a hold of you, you will be dead… you know that, yes…?”
“He is no longer with his rat-pack of miscreants. Although I am under no illusion he has no allies, I too have allies. And he must die.”
“Just…” She peered down at the small girl in her arms, suddenly faced with the icy realisation that their entire world was about to be turned upside-down. “Just be careful, please…” Oh, if only the officials knew what she knew… Seaver would have been hung, drawn and quartered by now. The terrible secrets she kept hidden. Little did she know, it was going to come to a head very soon…
“Aren’t I always?” The confidence in his voice was crystal clear. Foolish or not.
“You are not always this full of hatred… Emotional people make mistakes, Seaver… Just look at me. And no, you are not me, but I have never seen you like this before. And besides… isn’t your friend befriended with him…?” She inquired with a furrowed brow.
“Ilaru… need never know it was me, and I’ll be doing her a favour.”
“And what if she finds out? Are you willing to risk a friendship…? Are you willing to torture a man, leaving a mess for her to come across…? What do you think that will do to her…?” An insistent tone remained present in her voice, as though unbelieving it would come to this.
“She won’t.” Seaver suddenly snapped.
“Even if she does not find out, Seaver, what do you think something like that will do to her, as a person? Can you live with that guilt, knowing you have caused such grief…?” Although keeping her voice level, she did not relent.
“Sacrifices must be made. I refuse to admit that black-hearted creature can repent.” There was no remorse in his voice, or anything else for that matter, aside from a deep-seeded hatred.
“No. Sorry. This is where I put my foot down. Were you not the one who told me that she was hurt, over and over again and in terrible manners? You proclaim to be her friend, yet you are willing to inflict even more horrors upon her?” Erinwyn had not made a secret of not liking Ilaru and her quirky if not sometimes downright rude manners, but this… this went too far. “Besides, black-hearted? Wouldn’t plenty of folk call you that…?”
Abruptly rising to his feet, Seaver tipped the stool slightly in a sudden outburst of violence and launched his tankard across the room before seeking to simply storm out of the house, leaving Erin with the infant in her arms.
She cursed under her breath and peered down at the small girl, torn between the irrational fear of causing discomfort or worse to the child and running after the man she loved. Slowly rising to her feet, Erinwyn saw her way clear to shuffling back to the bedroom to gently, and with the greatest of care place the infant in her crib again before leaving the house.
In the garden, Seaver was on his way to the garden wall when she purposefully strode after him, her hands on her hips.
“You may have been a great many things, but I have never before seen you take the coward’s route of turning your back like that… To Mordor with me and my mistakes, this is unrelated… Don’t do this…”
“If I don’t, I will do and say things that I will regret. You have not been there for me, so why should I offer you any courtesy?” The snide reply came as he spun around on his heel, barking out in anger and frustration. The torment and anguish that haunted his features and had thus far been bottled up in an expert manner were brought to boil by her words. He seemed pained as much as having a lust for blood.
“I am trying to be here now. You wished to try, I am trying. I cannot change the past, Seaver, but I can damn well try and change the future… However, I can only be there for you, if you will allow me to be…” Erinwyn stated gently whilst stepping forward. Unafraid and despite it all, she regarded him with love and devotion. Pained, yes. But the deeper feelings were still present.
“Quite frankly, my business is my own now and yours is yours. The difference between me and Cyfier is the choices I made. I know I am a monster. But at least I channel it righteously.” His remark came as a slap in the face, but it was not enough to push her away.
“If you want to inflict pain, then inflict it on me… if you feel I have let you down so badly, if I cannot repair that,… then it is me whom you should take your rage out on…” She balled her hands into fists at her sides. “And your business and my business…? But what if my life were in danger? Would you not care? I still love you, Seaver, by the Valar, I do… And if I see this, I cannot but speak up. If that makes you hate me, so be it… but do not do this to Ilaru…”
The pure rage coursing through him, setting each and every fiber of his body alight with the need for blood caused him to draw his long-seax. But instead of turning on her, he suddenly turned on his heel and took the initial rage out on a small tree nearby. Hacking at it, he let out an unrestrained roar of anger.
“Seaver, please…” Her voice soft, caring.
His arms drew back as he prepared to once more slate his rage on the tree. With powerful, overhead blows he continued to lay into the tree. The red mist, violently suppressed rage clearly no longer was contained. Was this what he was like in the midst of his kills; vicious? One hack. Two. Three. And the tree finally gave in, falling away from the couple.
Erinwyn winced slightly, but did not back away. Even seeing him at his worst, she stood by him. In an attempt, in vain, she tried to place her right hand on his left lower arm, gently, despite him panting heavily and truly resembling a hungry monster. He half-turned, holding his blade loosely by his side.
“Ilaru can go swing for all I care.”
“No… sorry, but I do not believe you… Look at me, please.” She stated in an attempt to have him meet her gaze.
“Do you know how often I want to cut that woman? You would not believe it…”
With a furrowed brow of confusion and a soft tone of voice which remained unfaltering and perhaps for the very first time truly understanding of the need of her presence in his life, she spoke. “But why? I though you considered her a friend…?”Sure. She could walk out, but she chose to stay now that she truly saw what the consequences were of her not being in his life.
“I look at her and some of the time I want to cut an artery on her leg and simply watch her bleed, she is not fitting of my code, though. Cyfier, however, is…” His tone of voice could have smoothly cut through ice.
“Yet you call her friend…? You can tell me a great many things, but you would not think that of a friend without just cause…” Erinwyn asked suspiciously. There was clearly more to it, but he would not share that with her. Not now.
“I do not want to discuss this now. Stand away from me, please…” His trembling form betrayed the utter control he had to exercise to keep himself in check.
In turn, Erinwyn gritted her teeth and straightened herself – even so, her height was not very impressive, especially compared to him. She looked at him for a moment, before asking. “So you truly believe you would hurt me…?”
“Yes…” Was the sole reply.
“Then so be it… Because I would rather die than leave your side now… I already caused enough grievances. If this is what happens when I fail to be there for you, I deserve nothing less.” Her reply came with an iron determination.
The sword shook, as did the hand holding it in the state he was in. “Please, stay back…”
“Why? What would you care…? You have my reply… I have failed you when you needed me. You need me now, I am here.” Her mind was made up, even as she repeated herself. “If this is what happens when I fail to be there for you, I deserve nothing less.”
“Just… stay back, let me go…” He pleaded as turmoil took hold, causing him to plead with her, to have her stay away from him as he felt the strongest of compulsions. Thoughts were no longer coherent, nothing was. And he feared in earnest for her life.
Perhaps it was that which made her so reluctant to leave. Tears were brimming in her eyes as she looked to him, unable and unwilling to give up on him. Her gaze remained fixed on his beautiful blue eyes. A single tear slowly descended her right cheek as she whispered, her voice scarcely audible, but the words therefore all the more powerful. “I love you, Seaver…”
“ARGH!” The piercing scream seemed to come from the depth of his very being. He did not drop the blade, however, simply standing there with the pressure in his head telling him to do the one thing required to relieve the tension, whilst squirming in torment, knowing clearly that it would be the most horrifically wrong thing to do. “Just… get… away! Now! ... Please!”
“Don’t you see? I can’t, my love… I would be giving up on you again. I cannot and will not do so… Because you mean everything to me… I love you with all of my being… if you need to relieve that rage, do so on me… either way you choose… the choice is no longer mine to make…” Erinwyn explained, trembling herself. Tension the most likely culprit as not a trace of fear could be found in her expression. She stood her ground, bravely.
At that moment, Seaver drew back his sword arm to make a clean swing at her. Deep down within him, though, something winced, quite violently, which caused him to throw himself, with his sword so as to stay the blow, to the ground. In so doing, he put the pressure of his body weight down on the blade to bring it clattering down with him, landing in an abject heap.
In that instance, Erinwyn sunk to her knees beside him. Tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she carefully and ever so gently pulled his shoulders and head into her lap and began running her fingers through his blonde hair, soothingly.
Seaver, in turn, broke down in tears, unable to believe what he was about to do as he slowly came to his senses. “I hate it… I hate this…” He whispered in a broken voice.
Holding him close to her, she slowly rocked her body back and forth in the same manner one would cradle an infant. “I know love… I know… and I am so sorry I did not see this before… I am so sorry…” Her own tears unstoppable now.
“You should just have let me go…” His voice so weak, so frail, as all the rage he felt earlier imploded within his mind.
“What would have become of you, if I had…?” She dreaded the reply.
“I would…” He whispered, then fell silent, burying his face in her lap as he could not quite master the necessary strength or energy required to formulate a reply.
“Then everything would have been a lie, truly… if I cannot stand to be by your side in the worst of times, I do not deserve the best of times…” Her own voice was but a whisper. She leaned her torso over him, as though sheltering him whilst continuously caressing the side of his face with one hand.
“Why…?” He managed to utter.
“Do you still not understand…?” Erinwyn said softly as a faint, albeit truly loving smile touched her lips.
“No… I am a monster. No matter how I dress it up. I will still continue to dress it up tomorrow.” He did not even look at her, far too horrified and disgusted to even look her in the face.
“And I have been an idiot, drowning in my own misery… everyone makes mistakes, love, but the fact of the matter is; you could have, but you did not. That, more than anything, proves to me that you are not a monster.” She stated whilst guiding his head gently, coaxing him more than anything to look to her.
“But I so very nearly did, don’t you see? My mind stopped functioning; it was as though I was possessed. I still feel it, just, dormant again.” Seaver said in a hoarse voice, finally finding the strength to look to her, albeit briefly.
“But you didn’t… something made you interrupt yourself… you could have, yes, but what matters is that you didn’t.” Strands of hair stuck to her tear-stained cheeks. “If anything, this has been a warning to me… it has awoken me… I cannot leave you. Not now. Not ever…”
“I do not know what to say…”
“You do not need to… we can talk about it later. You need rest.” She said softly, lovingly, whilst making an attempt to wipe away the remnant of tears.
He nodded at that, and together they made their way back to the house. Silently and dutifully, she helped him out of the bulk of his garments and guided him to the bed. However, rather than joining him, she left the room and fetched a chair which she put just outside the room. That night, she would allow her training to aid her. That night, she would stand guard over him.
