Hey guys, this is my first time posting on Wattpad, I'm just hoping for some feedback and constructive criticism! If you take the time to read this, I would just like to say thank you so very much, it means an awful lot!
Thanks again!
----
Chapter One
Lya stood on the gallery above the yard. Her younger sister Elysa was beside her, fawning at the boys at swordplay below.
"Look at them, Lya, they will make great knights one day." Elysa exclaimed breathlessly.
Lya had lost count how many times she had told Elysa that most of the boys below would never make knighthood. Most would spend their lives here at Stormgarde, tending horses and serving their lords. A few may see the wonders of the world, if her lord father took a fancy to the cooking of their newest cook, he may take them to The Kingsmire, or Eastwood, or perhaps even as far as sprawling city of Helmholme, seat of the king.
Lya had been to Helmholme once, not six moons ago. Her father, Lord Matthias of Stormgarde, had been invited to a jousting event in the capital. He had took her with him, with her brothers Zachary and Jon. At first she had relished the idea, armoured knights besting each other, the bright colours of pavilions and more standards and sigils than one could imagine. However, once she arrived at Helmholme, she had missed the rolling fields and orchards of her home. She missed the sixty foot curtain walls, designed to survive the storms that wrecked against the sheer cliffs of the coast on which Stormgarde perched. Those walls made her feel safe, as if not even the Gods could cast their wrath on her.
She gazed out above the walls now, to the dark clouds on the horizon. A storm was gathering. Her thoughts went back to her sister. Lya could not tell if she was irritated or envious of Elysa's innocence.
"One day, perhaps. There is a storm gathering, we should go inside." She told her sister. Her sister skipped off in the direction of the kitchens, she was quite friendly with the cooks. Lya walked back into the main of the keep. She started in the direction of her chamber, but soon found herself wandering the halls aimlessly, as she oft did these days.
Every hallway and arch, each turn brought out more memories. Lya knew that she would not belong here much longer. She wondered if the Darquewood would ever feel this much of a home to her. Perhaps one day, she thought, once I have married my lord husband and bore him children. She had never visited the Darkewood, but she had heard tales. The land around there was thick forest, The castle, also named Darkewood, was a traditional motte-and-bailey castle, set upon a hill. One also heard dark rumours and whisperings about the Darkewood. The commoners said that dark things roamed in the woods, sinister creatures and some even went as far to say that the Lords of the Darkewood were half-human, half-wolf. She found the idea absurd, but she still felt uneasy about spending the rest of her life in an isolated castle, surronded by dark forest, and a supposed monster for a husband.
Her feet brought her to her chamber door, and she found that she was glad. A bath, I think. Her handmaiden, Rosalin, was folding up her freshly washed gowns and placing them gently into a chest. The sight sent a pang of nerves through her body. They were packing her things ready for the when she left. Only a few days remain to me, she thought.
"Good afternoon, Rosalin." She said.
Rosalin jumped in fright.
"Good afternoon, My Lady." she replied, startled.
"If you would be so kind, would you ready me a bath please?" she asked politely. She did not believe in talking to anybody unkindly, even those who served you.
"Your Lord Father and Lady Mother wish to see you my lady, should I have it ready for you when you return?"
Lya's heart missed a beat. "I would be most grateful if you did." she told Rosalin.
She took her leave of her chamber, walking the warm, well-lit hallways that ran through the keep. One side of the hallway had windows, offering a view of the sea beyond, but they were small, to survive the beating of the wind. She glimpsed herself in the mirror as she walked by. She had pale skin, soft brown curls, and smokey grey eyes. She pondered whether Lord Darkewood would care for her looks.
She turned another corner and walked down the small hallway which led to her parents solar. She knocked, and waited them to bid her entrance, which they did.
"Enter." she heard her fathers rich voice say. She opened the door slowly, and not simply because of its weight. She took in her fathers ebony desk, carved elegantly with swirling waves and ebb and flow of the tide. The desk was black as a midnight sky, and ink wells and unused parchment were scattered across it in disarray. There was a fire burning in the hearth, and arm chairs - crimson red and more comfortable than most beds - pulled close to it for warmth. Lya glanced out of a nearby window, to see the raindrops gently gliding down the window to the sill. She had swore to herself that she would shed no tears, as she must learn to be a woman, a child no longer. It chilled her to think, but she would have no friends in the Darkewood. She would - for the first time in her life - be surrounded by strangers, with no familiar faces in sight.
She decided that the sky was weeping for her, and so she had no need to join it in its misery. She glanced to the sky and decided it was as black and mournful as her mood.
"Father, I was told you wanted to see me?" She asked politely. Her father was seated at his desk, writing a letter. As she watched, he stopped writing and folded the parchment, while warming royal blue wax above the flame of a candle. He dripped the wax in a circle over the parchment and pressed his seal into it. Lord Matthias Storm was tall, pale as she was and with dark hair, now flecked with grey. He had the creases of age around his eyes.
"Lya, sit with me child," he requested "You know what this is about, surely. I gifted you with my brains." He smiled at her.
"I'll be leaving soon, thats so?" she asked.
"Yes, tomorrow. I'm sorry I could have given you more time to say your goodbyes, my sweet. The King has summoned me to Helmholme, The Eastern Lords are plotting again, he says. No doubt he'll send me as an envoy." Lya knew her father was a calm man, who considered situations very carefully before he would act. She also knew some of the other Lords in the King's favour were hot-headed and rash. These men would not help the anger in the East, especially if they were now openly contemplating rebellion.
"So, I will be leaving with you? The Darkewood is off your path is it not?"
"Just so. It's not so far off, my dear." We will accompany you to the edge of Darkewood Forest, and you will be accompanied by your guard through the wood to the keep. I would accompany you all the way, but it would not do well to test the King's patience, especially with the current unrest." He explained. Lya realised she didnt want to leave yet. Her time with him was limited.
"What of Jon? And Zachary? Will they accompany you to Helmholme?"
"Ah, speaking of that! I thought Jon might accompany you. Its quite customary for Lords to foster their sons with each other, and it would be company for you. Who knows but the Gods? Maybe one day your sons will foster here!" The last part of that sentence made her stomach fill with butterflies. My sons, she thought. One will be a lord one day. Lord of the Darkewood. It was a peculiar feeling.
"That would be lovely, Father. Does Jon know of your plans?"
"Know of it? He thought of it! He loves you dearly, as do Zachary and Elysa. You will be sorely missed, my child. From the Great Hall, to the Stables, Kitchens and even the Watch Towers, your absence will be felt sorely. I'm very proud of you, and Lord Darkewood will also be, that I guarantee." Her fathers words pushed her to the brink of releasing her tears, and once those gates were open, the flood was sure to come.
"You have my love, Father. I wonder... if... I don't feel that, my home will ever be anywhere but here. But by the Gods, I swear I will make you, and House Storm proud." She gave her father a small smile.
"You'll be Lady Darkewood. You'll care for your lord husband and you'll bare his children. You will find your home their, even if it takes some time." He stood up, and approached her. Once he was near, she embraced him, and she felt the tears fall.
"I love you, Father. Commit that to memory, won't you?" She paused, and Lord Matthias chuckled.
"I certainly will, my love." She regained her composure.
"Father, I would like to go see Jon, if you would excuse me." Her Father let go of her, sat down by the hearth and smiled at her. She smiled back and took her leave.
She took the corridor to Jon's chamber. She knew that the men would often stay out in the rain, but the storm was raging now, and her brother had never been one for swordplay. Jon was very talented with a sword, but did not enjoy 'beating at people with sticks' as he oft described it.
She tapped gently on the door, and heard her brother bid her enter. She slipped through the door, and Jon was sat in a chair, near a blazing fire, reading a book. She took the other chair.
"I hear you'll be coming with me."
"From a bird?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and a sly smile.
"I'm fairly sure our father is human. I'm equally sure he can't fly." She smiled.
"Ooh, I don't know, Lya," he grinned at her mischievously. "He does frequently visit the Rookery, perhaps that is something we should test?"
"That he does, often. If he starts begging us for corn, I shall be sure to summon the physicians. I will allow you the luxury of being believed without evidence. I do fear that if we threw our dear Father off a tower, he would be most disappointed in us." She remarked. She felt more at ease with Jon, but her jesting was half-hearted. Jon - of course - knew this. He watched her for a few moments, concern written over his face.
"Well, perhaps you are right. Even with such good cause, mother would be quite loath... alarmingly so." He dropped his cheery voice. "How do you feel? Don't worry, Lya, the Darkewood is beautiful in its own way, and peaceful. We'll be happy there". It only just occured to her that Jon had been to the Darquewood, with their father.
"Have you met Lord Darkewood?", she asked him. He nodded. "What is he like?"
"He's a good swordsman, not half bad with a bow either. He's intelligent too though, not like a brute with a blunted object, seemed a good tactician. He'll respect you Lya, don't doubt that. He seemed like he would be a caring and gentle husband."
"Thank you, Jon, that has eased my worry greatly." She embraced him, and they held the hug for a few seconds. Lya took a step back and bid him a good night. They had a long ride ahead, and that bath was calling her.
She returned to her chamber, and was instantly relieved. The shutters had been closed, the drapes drawn and a fire was dancing in the hearth, casting its golden light around the room. Her bed had been freshly made with clean linen, covered with furs. Her bath was next to the fire, she was surprised to see steam rising over the water.
She undressed, laying her gown over her bed, and climbed into her bath. The water was hot, but it was not until she was in the bath did she realise how cold she had been. The warmth absorbed into her muscles, relieving the tension that she didn't know she had. She washed her hair with fragrant rose water, and by the time she had soaked away her aches and pains, she smelt as pleasant as the gardens of Stormgarde in high summer. Lya had just clambered clumsily from the bath, and wrapped her robe around herself - it was royal blue, and beautifully embroided, a birthday gift from her mother and father - when Rosalin returned.
She was carrying a tray of olives, bread, butter and salted meats.
"I brought supper for you, my lady." she said, and placed the tray on a table.
"Thank you, Rosalin." She replied. Lya sat her self down at her dressing table, and Rosalin, well experienced as a handmaiden, took up a brush and brushed Lya's hair until it glistened and shined like chestnuts. Rosalin moved to the bed and took up Lya's gown, and folded it neatly.
She moved to the oak chest that contained the rest of Lya's clothing and placed the gown inside.
"All your gowns are in the chest now, My Lady, I left out a cotton gown for the trip, will that suffice?" she asked Lya cautiously.
"Yes, Rosalin. Thank you. I think I will be needing my cloak, its seems quite chill and the rain seems quite persistent."
"Indeed it does, My Lady." She replied.
Silence settled for a few moments, as Lya sat down to eat, spreading butter over bread. There came a soft knock from the door.
"Come in." Lya called. The door opened, and her mother entered the room. Her mother seemed tired, but she smiled when she saw Lya.
"Ah, there you are dear, my apologies I did not see you earlier. Elysa was causing havoc in the kitchens. Are you well, my sweet?" she asked, with a mother's concern.
"Fine, mother, fine," She smiled "Nervous, of course, but I'll be fine".
"Of course you will," her mother said sincerely "Your father received a bird from the capital. The King tells us that the trouble with the Eastern Lords are not so pressing, and bids your father to see you wed. Your father and I, Elysa and Zachary will also accompany you to The Darkewood, where you'll be wed the day after we arrive."
"Oh... I did not expect to be wed so soon..." She said, the butterflies in her stomach taking flight.
"I don't think your father did either my dear, but it is for the best. If things don't go well in the East, your father could be gone for months. You wouldn't want to marry without your father there." She knew her mother was right, but it did nothing to calm her nervous fluttering.
"How long should the journey take?" she asked, trying to not allow her voice to betray her worry.
"No more than a few days, it is not far to the Darquewood." Lya nodded. "I'll take my leave and let you rest, tomorrow is like to be a very long day."
Rosalin opened the door for her and her mother left. She found that she was no longer hungry, but forced herself to eat at least some bread. She also drank some sweetwine, from a flagon on the table. She was not certain, but she thought that beneath all the worry and anxiety, there was a hint of excitement. That, or she simply was tired of the anticipation, and wanted to at least meet the man should would be expected to spend the rest of her life with.
She was ready to meet her future husband. Lya stood and climbed into her bed. It was soft and warm as a summer day, and she was soon sleeping. She dreamt of tall trees, the singing of birds and the things to come. Sleep, at least, gave her the optimism she just couldn't seem to gather while awake.