Walks settled me, or at least they used to. Nothing settled me anymore. Nothing would while I remained homeless. I didn't lose any possession. Not my castle. Not my crown. Not my people. Not my country. Nothing, but my home. How can you live fully when your home isn't a place, but a person? A friend. A lover. A wife. The very woman that claimed me. Leave it up to me to tarnish and ruin the good in my life. For days, weeks, months, I've been waiting. Waiting for a message, some sign. Something to give me hope. It has been just over three months, the seasons changed around me to warm while I felt frozen and immovable. Blocked from breathing fresh air whilst under the thick layers of hardened ice.
The cooing sounds of my son echoed as an afterthought in the back of my mind. My child. A child. One child. If I hadn't been so stupid and selfish, a second would have been well on its way to be here. My heart felt as empty as my wife's womb. A wife a sea away. Above everything, I just wished she was here. I ached to hold her. Breathe her. Touch her, make love to her. By the gods, I wanted to make love to her. Slowly. Passionately. Lovingly. Every single night since she left, I've dreamt about her, and every morning I wake expected a letter telling me to come to her. I prayed that the last time we were together that I was able to get her with child once more. Hoped more on the unrealistic fantasy that she never miscarried, just bleed for another reason.
That was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. And childish. And a damn fool. She must have been glad to break from me, I had been a poor excuse of a husband. I deserved to suffer. The gods punish me justly. How they must jeer and mock from their place above, spitting down at me like the harsh rains during humid weathers. The smug prince turned king was now replaced. Without having the ethereal goddess that was my wife to impress, I let my hair grow to my shoulders and a beard that grew to resemble a rumpled goat's. Even the farmers and fish wives had to glance twice as I made my way up the hill into forestation. There was no elegant garments. No grand jewels. No crown. I kept my attire plain; incognito. A hooded black cloak masking a simple laying of a blue short sleeved tunic over a white shirt. My muddy boots tucked in warm woollen trousers. If Onyxia saw me now she'd tease me unthinkingly. And yet, next I see her I wouldn't change anything. I wanted her to see me sink so low. I wanted to grovel at her feet. Beg for forgiveness.
"My king?" I closed my eyes against Sarabii's voice, freezing where I stood. The tall, brown stallion by my side grunted with annoyance at the sudden cease of movement. I let go of the rains to let him wander about in the trees and grass. The months hadn't been kind to her too. The once vibrant browns of her thick mane had now the appeal of dull wood, heavy bags aged her face, and I finally saw the age gap between us. I refused to do what Nyx had asked me too, no matter how much I love my son. Nyx was- is- my wife. Not some woman tied to me by a drunk night and lust. When I had informed Sarabii of my decision she acted unnaturally defensive towards me, for the first time she raised her voice against me.
Now I knew where we were placed on each other's ladder. Now, due to her outraged confessions, I knew her thoughts weren't those of the soft-spoken, gentle woman I had known for years. No, she was vigorous... and tiring. "What is it?" I asked, dully. Risking a glance as my foolishly overdressed son. Nyx had dressed him like a Viking famer, Sarabii paraded him like a laughable jester. Not only that, his mother wasn't holding him properly at all, he dangle from her arms like a hangman. Stomping over, I almost snatched him from her arms instead of taking him gently. Rekker huddled into my embrace, tiny fists clutching at my clothes and beard. I kissed his head. "Shh, sonur minn. Faðir hefur þig, þú ert öruggur með mig. Ég vernda þig. Alltaf." Shh, my son. Father has you, you're safe with me. I'll protect you. Always. I whispered in his ear, pressing him to me.
I should have known that my quite hum would do nothing to settle him, I knew what he wanted. It was the same thing as I did. "Hvar er Nyx? Ég vil Nyx!" He pounded his tiny firsts at me, scowling fiercely. He hasn't stopped asking. Everytime I went to see him. I just shushed him, and told him the same thing I always did. That she's gone away for now, but she'll be back one way or another. "Ég vil ekki mömmu." I don't want mummy. Why? He didn't like spending time with her. He clutched my face, possessively holding my attention, my own eyes stared at me in a desperate need to communicate more than his young mind could offer. "Ert þú elskar mig, pabba?"
I jerked back, shocked. "Of course I love you!" I answered back. No longer able to look at his assessing features, I hugged him tightly to me, pressing his head against my shoulder to kiss the top of it, talking against his golden locks. "I love you, more than anything. You're my son." Who told him otherwise? Never mind, it was my fault either way. I should have spent every day with him since the moment he was born. I set that thought aside, and continued while I had his attention. "Why don't you want your mother, Rekker?" I asked him, sternly so he understood to answer me.
It irked me that such a young child would think to say such a thing. All the times I've seen them interact or in the same room together, Sarabii has never appeared neglectful or absentminded towards our son. He certainly felt comfortable around her, and didn't appear in distress if he had to stay or go with her anywhere. He barely resembled her, which he did question at the start, but has now seemingly gotten over the physical difference between his parents. Not only in appearance but heritage and culture. Perhaps that's why he seeks out Nyx more. He is blue eyed and blonde, just as she. And our people have many similarities and resemblances. Perhaps he thinks her his mother because it appears the more likely assumption.
My son muddled over what answer to give as I carried him over to my horse, carefully plopping him into the saddle and sitting him stably. The horse, knowing me well enough, began a slow walk. Rekker gripped my hand as well as the saddle's lip tight with urgent worry. "If you hold on tight, I'll come up with you." I tugged the horse to a stop, my son gripped anything in front of him as tightly as possible while I grappled my way onto the horse. Seating him more steadily between my thighs, making sure my only living heir was safe. Only I hoped he wasn't. I hoped that she was with child again. That the last time we were together the gods were watching enough to reward me, I've certainly begged for forgiveness enough over the past months.
Sarabii approached us, her own mare trotting obediently behind her. Not that she was a good rider. On a horse it was like watching a sack of wheat rather than a woman. "My king..." Her eyes hindering a hardened expression. "I think its best we return. You're son has had enough entertainment for one day. He shouldn't be out of the castle for such a long period of time. It's unhealthy." I huffed in response. I could never wed this woman. She didn't quarrel, she mothered, and that was never satisfying. It was nothing like the vibrant, passionate disagreements I had with my wife. Onyxia evoked something deep inside of me, recently Sarabii only bored.
I nodded with half-hearted appeasement. "In a moment." I wasn't in a rush to face my family. And their irrational opinions.
Hugging my son to my body, I humoured him by letting the horse move about. Rekker squealed and vibrated with glee, his happiness was the only thing to bring a real smile to my face. My heart was only half full, leaving the other half bleeding, broken and barely beating. It had been almost three months, I couldn't stand it anymore. I died more every day. If she wanted to teach me a lesson and discipline me, then I'd gladly admit publicly that if she stood in front of me now I'll grovel for forgiveness and love. "I'm going on a trip, and I'm taking my son with me." I said solidly. I was unsure of what her family may thing of me arriving with my bastard son, but he was my son. Rekker loved Onyxia almost as much as I did, and I loved her more than my next breath. I loved her. She wasn't part of my life, she is my life. I looked at the mother of my first child. First, by gods willing, not only. Give me a baby. Give me everything. That was her last words to me, before I filled her womb as much as I possibly could. It had been enough time for her to send messages back and forth if there had been any sign of a child growing. Yet, not a single word received. "I want you to stay here, Sarabii." My tone was firm enough to cut off any arguments from her. "Rekker is my son, and I am his father. I am your king."
Her face bloomed red with outrage, "I am his mother, Alex!" I jerked, then narrowed my eyes. She's never called me by my name before. "You can't toss me aside like Zahia. Or send me away like Eréndira. Or throw me in a jail cell like your precious Kyarah! You remember her, don't you? My, you couldn't keep your cock out of her for years!" I clenched my teeth hard, glaring down at the raging brunette. "Why do you have to run to her? Why? Why?" Sarabii screamed, her voice echoing around us, upsetting our son.
I lifted him, turning him around to embrace him against my body as he sought comfort against his mother's building fury. I murmured and stroked him until he quieted, before talking to my former lover. That's exactly what she was, something former, never present. "You not in a position to question me. I am king, my word is law, and you are not going to disregard that with crude words in front of my son." I sneered, tucking the tiny body to me, as my son fisted his small hands in a tight grip, holding on to me as I did him. "I agree that I might not have been much of a fatherly influence at the beginning of his life, but I've more than made up for it now, wouldn't you say?" It was undeniable that my son had bonded and loved me, and that was all I ever wanted from the start.
The fact that Sarabii could guess where I was planning on going without a thought, spoke volumes of my state. Nyx had changed me. She had brought me my son, now I have a relationship with him. She had given me strength and confidence, and more affection than I deserve given my treatment of her. She gave me her body, and that alone made me feel like a king more than the crown bestowed upon me. "You're not her." I know it cut deep. I know that it'll hit a nerve so sorely that it must burn. I was too much of a coward to meet the pain in her eyes. "You couldn't be her, no one could. She is my wife, Sarabii. She belongs here, with me, not a sea away." I shrugged, "No matter what you two planned out, you could never replace her and I refuse to marry you, for I feel like I would never be content if I did. I only have one wife, and I choose to leave this world with just one soul bound to me by the ring I wear." I glanced down at the silver metal, smiling in remembrance of its colour. "I would sooner take my own life..." I swallowed deeply, taking in the strength of those words. "I would rather die than spend another moment without her."
A moment of silence filled the air, I grew quite as rejection and loneliness stinted me. She had promised word, yet she sent nothing. If it wasn't for scorn gone terribly wrong by Kyarah, Onyxia mightn't have left at all, and my son would still be growing in her womb. "Kyarah will rot for her actions," No matter what anyone says, I felt nothing for her. "Without her jealousy and interference, I will still have my wife by my side and our son in her womb."
Sarabii scoffed, "It never left," She muttered, "For all anyone knows, the father could be that prince just as much as you." Freezing in place, her face showed the horror of saying more than she should. My spin stiffened. She said 'be', not 'been'. My heart started pulsing, and every feeble sense of hope I had sparked like a rising fire.
I stared intensely into her frightened eyes, reading the truth and fuelling on the betrayal. "She's sent word to you?" I snapped, my mind flickering from conclusion to conclusion. Why would she write to Sarabii and not me? My brow furrowed, my breath coming up shortly. I had noticed the blooming friendship between them, but I was sure that we had extended forgiveness between Nyx and I last we saw of each other. Perhaps I was wrong. Furious, and slighted, I marched my stallion forward before pulling up, my brain clicking on something. I had been sleeping on the lounge in Sarabii's chambers to be near Rekker, she never mention receiving any letters from Nyx. Unless they were for her to read...
Knowing tha I had come to the right conclusion, she started backing away. "When?!" I yelled, anger flaring. If I wasn't on a horse, and if my son wasn't here as witness, I'd end her life right here or throw her in the dungeons to rot with Kyarah. "When had she sent word?!" I screamed, frustration and urgency got the better of me. I resettled my son against me and took off. Ignoring her wails and screams behind me.
Nyx had kept her promise. She was with child again. I couldn't believe it, it seemed so impossible. I will go to her, beg for her forgiveness, and pray that she'll reclaim me. I didn't care if I had to beg and plead and grovel at the feet of her family, make a mockery of myself in front of her people. I'd do that for her, I'd do anything for her, and that shocked me. It finally woke me up to what a poor husband I've been. Something I planned to changed, even if I have to sacrifice everything. It was worth the risk. She was worth the risk.
Willow PoV
"You son has gone insane!" I screeched as I stormed up to my crumbling husband. Haraldur hasn't improved at all, in fact with Alexan diminishing over his withered libido, he's emaciated into a walking silhouette of bone, weakened muscle and loose skin. He sat immobile in his bed, looking at me over a book. Emery sewed wordlessly in a distant corner, ignoring my outburst as bluntly as her young son slept away on the lounge. Jaymen was listening, but he's expression was only one of interest when his mirror of a brother stormed into the room after me, bastard son in hand. "You're crazy!" I raged, "After all that's happened, he wants to sail to enemy territory." I turned to my husband. "Tell him! She left, Haraldur! How can be sure that they will keep to the treaty now? They might kill him if he steps onto Lucifer's shores!"
My irritating son rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively. "She's carrying my child!" I gave him a doubtful look, that little son-stealing slut has had a long time to spread herself around. If she really cared for him she would never have left in the first place. Alex marched right up to his father's side. "I'm going to go with or without your approval. I have been betrayed and lied to by too many within these walls, I refuse any further insults." I huffed, he was always one for the melodramatic scenarios. "It's my child, father. She's my wife." They stared at each other for a long time, as if reaching into each other's mind and exploring the thoughts.
I knew my husband's issue immediately. Jaymen was too weak and feeble to rule or fight in battle. Emery's son too young. His sisters never had any children. Alex's son was born out of wedlock. Alexan was the only strong heir, and he was king. The bloodline was at risk, but truth be told, as soon as that reedy brat set her way back home, everything roiled in unrest. She needed to return. We needed the peace. We needed the alliance and troops. We needed a legitimate heir. We needed a queen. And she was my son's Queen.
Jaymen stood carefully, his bones creaking and thin, undeveloped muscles shivering. "I'll go with him." He announced, "If we only take a small party and make it clear we come in peace, rather than act like we're going to steal Onyxia once more, I think nothing drastic would happen." Alex moved to embrace his twin, that runt smiled as he was pressed between them. Perhaps if Alex did get a real son, we wouldn't have to put up with that spurn being in our faces.
My husband nodded, considering the proposal. "My love, you can't be taking this seriously." I exclaimed. This was utterly unbelievable! How ridiculous! He couldn't possibly agree to this, sending our son's away to be fated by a bunch of barbarians. Those uncivil creatures couldn't be trusted.
Haraldur sighed, deeply. His every breath now was rattling and a sore wheeze. His eyes weren't a healthy white, but tinted a sickly yellow. His teeth were blackening from coughing, and his skin was almost reptilian. He didn't have long to go, even he knew that. "I liked my daughter-in-law very much, and I miss her presence greatly." A vibrating cough halted him, by the time he was finished he seemed suffocated and exhausted. He tried to hide the blood that came up with the phlegm and mucus from the children, but we all knew that it was there. "Willow.... The boy needs her. Look at him!" I glanced at my ragged son. His appearance was disgraceful, I couldn't see the confident, narcissistic man he once was. It was like he had aged years instead of months. He looked like a damned peasant! He was a king! "He's like a recluse!" I winced as he erupted into another coughing fit.
My eyes blazed at my selfish child. "If that's what you want; go." I snapped, bitterly. "But look what you leave behind! Do you think your father is going to last much longer? You leave, and you won't be here when he dies. I hope that's worth it just to have a pretty girl in your bed!" From the day she landed on our shores Onyxia D'Luna had begun robbing my son from me. When she took his name, she stole him as hers. As he fell in love with her, he didn't need me anymore. When she had lost the child, Alex convinced himself that I must have conspired against him. Now; he didn't trust me, no longer sought my advice or confided his feelings. He hated me. He no longer loved or wanted or needed me. His father might be one foot in the grave, but I felt already dead. For this, I hoped Onyxia Jagontá acknowledged all she has taken, and give much more back.