WARNING: The following story contains explicit language, depictions of violence, references to childhood trauma, scenes depicting sexual assault, discussions of hermaphrodism, and mpreg elements that may be unsuitable for certain readers. Reader discretion is advised.
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HIGH KING Alizade repressed another long sigh as High Commander Salav and his Lieutenant tried to pry his son and the young faie apart from ripping each other's throats out.
It was supposed to be a happy morning.
Awakening to the gentle embrace of sunlight streaming through his window, the symphony of birdsong in the trees, and the cheerful hustle of maids beyond his door, diligently readying the castle for yet another tranquil day. Eager anticipation coursed through the High King, eager for profound discussions with his faie guests. His foremost goal: securing the peace that safeguarded the harmony between the Ruemri Empire and the Twelve Clans.
He was not, however, prepared to see his only heir swing a fist at their guest's son in the middle of the White Garden.
God, what a mess this had become.
He froze in shock, eyes wide and jaw hanging agape, as the small, young faie boy unexpectedly swung a tiny fist at Raffe, sending him careening backward with an audible thud upon the garden floor. High King Alizade battled the impulse to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Despite their diminutive appearance, the faie folk held an astonishing strength as guardians of the Woodlands — a trait that extended even to their youngest members.
After a fleeting moment of disorientation, Raffe, his face flushed crimson with anger, let out a thunderous roar and lunged forward, aiming another blow at the faie boy. Thankfully, in the nick of time, High Commander Salav and Lieutenant Renon intervened. They quickly separated the two boys, quelling the impending altercation.
After a lot of thrashing, Salav boomed a loud, "Enough!" and the two boys stopped and glared deadly daggers at each other instead.
High King Alizade chose that moment to step out into the garden and regarded the two boys with a stony glower. Without uttering a word, he expressed his discontent through the grimace of his mouth and the piercing gaze of his gray eyes—a family trait shared with Raffe. Salav and Renon offered a brief nod of respect before loosening their grip. At that moment, he became aware of the maids and guards who had been sneakily observing. Thar Mal of the Idana Clan, accompanied by his two daughters, was also making his way toward them, appearing even paler than usual.
"Soren!" Thar Mal took one look at his son and blanched again. He cupped his face, inspected the bloody nose, and winced.
Elefa, the elder faie daughter if High King Alizade's memories were correct, knelt in front of Soren and took his right hand smeared with blood. "What did you do this time, So-lin?" she asked him softly as if speaking to an injured animal.
"He punched me first!" Soren answered and pointed to Raffe, who at that moment, glared even harder at him.
High King Alizade stifled a resigned sigh once more. At sixteen winters old, Raffe stood as the elder figure, and whatever his rationale, it hardly justified his resorting to violence against a boy noticeably younger than himself. He possessed the tempestuous nature and unyielding spirit reminiscent of his valiant warrior mother. While Raffe might have inherited his father's physical traits, internally, he bore a striking resemblance to his mother—resilient, valiant, and headstrong. Yet, beneath this façade, he held traits of honesty, kindness, and a commitment to justice.
In the castle, skirmishes and pranks among children were not uncommon, and Raffe often engaged in playful tricks with the soldiers, like tickling their noses with feathers as they took a nap. However, Raffe was usually fair and principled. Hence, the High King couldn't fathom why Raffe, usually sensible and just, was now seething with such uncontrolled anger that he'd forsake his usual rationality and strike a smaller boy.
Raffe pointed back at the faie child. "You were messing with the dahlias!" he gasped out, his fingers twitching barely containing his anger. "Touching something you have no right to touch!"
Ah, the High King thought.
Dahlias were his late mother's favorite, especially the red ones. And the White Garden was full of them. Raffe wasn't just fond of them, he loved them. The flowers reminded him of his mother.
"I was helping them!" the young faie retorted, red-faced and eyes shining with unshed tears, his small fingers curled into fists.
"By what? By plucking them?!" Raffe seethed.
"They were dying!"
"They're fine until you plucked them from the roots, you fucking nitwit! Now they're gone!"
Thar Mal gaped at their exchange. The faie boy's eyes were glazing with tears but he was fighting it. High King Alizade hid his smile. The boy would be strong when he grew up, he was sure of it.
Soren inhaled a deep breath, squared his shoulders to look older than he was, and looked at Raffe with red-rimmed eyes. "You need to pluck the dying ones to separate them from the healthy flowers and care for them and heal them and plant them again. They were crying and begging for help when I was searching for Jiri and no one in this castle noticed them so I decided to help!"
"How can you hear them? They're plants!"
"I'm faie! You- You-" the boy sputtered. "You boob!"
High King Alizade heard the chorus of gasps from everyone who witnessed the scene and cast a look of pity on his son who was redder by the minute. It was enough humiliation. They may have been mere kids but kids with growing reputations nonetheless.
He gestured to Salav to take Raffe to his chambers, giving his son a look that promised they were going to have a long talk later. Raffe understood because he nodded and walked away without another word. And the High King turned to look at Thar Mal, who looked horrified at the moment.
"I am so sorry, your Majesty," he said as he clutched his son's shoulders protectively.
High King Alizade dismissed the apology with a wave of his hand.
"They're kids, Thar Mal. It happens sometimes."
Thar Mal's tension was visibly released by the slump of his shoulder. "Soren is a kind kid. It's just– he loses his reason when it comes to plants."
"I understand."
"It's a faie thing, your Majesty."
High King Alizade chuckled and reached down to ruffle young Soren's hair.
"Well, that obviously cannot be helped, can it?"
Soren stared at him with wide icy-blue eyes and the High King marveled at how beautiful they were. He silently hoped that his son would be able to see it, too, and see the hope lying underneath them, especially since his plan for the future of the empire involved the two of them. His eyes landed on Thar Mal and they shared the same look. The look that hoped these two young kids would be able to continue the peace and prosperity of the Ruemri Empire and the Twelve Clans in the future.
"Forgive my son for his outburst as well." He looked at Soren. "He gets real sensitive when it comes to the flowers in this garden, especially his mother's favorite dahlias. I'll send a healer to heal your wounds, young Soren, would that be okay with you?" he asked.
The faie's eyes lit up.
"I can heal them."
"You can?" the king asked, eyebrows raised.
Soren nodded eagerly and a wide grin appeared on his face.
"No, you're not," Aliya, the younger faie girl, said before Soren could say another word. "You're not a plant. You're not a dahlia. And you're not an animal either although I have my doubts. Accept the kind king's offer, So-lin, and be silent and behave."
"But I can heal them—"
"So-lin," Elefa said and cast Soren an admonishing look, "you did not fight the Crown Prince just so you can heal yourself afterward, right?" She narrowed her gaze at him. "Right?"
"I did not!" He looked up at Thar Mal. "I swear, Father, I— I didn't do it!" Soren protested, his voice tinged with urgency.
Thar Mal let out a weary sigh, muttering, "Oh, dear Aura," as he rubbed his temple, attempting to alleviate the sudden headache creeping in.
High King Alizade just laughed, amused, and gestured for them to return to the castle for a cup of tea.