♤♡The HALFLING Heir◇♧

Chapter 1 : The Middlends

The goblet was made of southern gold, with rubies adorning the sides along the carved silver indentations. Such was the gift from the Soudnan's first Maharajah to the Bhukawal 'Manshee' Manoban the First. It was a treasure, a relic and it's worth was weighed in time. But that didn't matter much to Sarawat Bhukawal as he threw it across the Agila's room (The Den), the fine Middlend mead spilling like tiny waves from the cup and staining the rich velvets decorating the Agila's royal bedroom. He was more than furious, he was betrayed. He was made a fool, she made him look like a fucking court Jester.

No one makes a fool of the Middlend Agila.

Chitthip was pregnant, his beloved wife and his Laluna. It was supposed to be a happy day, until a servant girl, one of his late mother's old spies told him that she found the Laluna in a rather compromising position with her old 'friend', an envoy from the West. An older Westen noble from Switzern, Central Werston. He laughed wickedly, pouring himself another glass of mead. The man she cheated on him was named Marco fucking Brüschweiler.

He confronted them just a few moments ago. He gave him a good beating before Chitthip stopped him herself, saying nonsense like this Marco was the man she loved, promised herself to before their royal engagement and marriage. Sarawat stood on top of the tall Westen man, the tan on his skin sleek on his muscles and his knuckles ranging from blues and purples from the punches he had thrown. But Marco looked even worse than purple. He could not even open his left eye from all the blows he took from the warrior king.

Now, everyone knew that Sarawat Bhukawal the Third was a strong, hard man but he loved his wife more than life itself; even when she had betrayed him. It did not even take a second more for him to go soft when he saw the pleading tears in her eyes and that desperate frown instead of her usual smile, his tense bulk unwinded like he had been bewitched.

So the Agila put his hand on top of her own, wincing when she flinched under his touch but pulling away from the Westen all the same. If eyes had any will to kill, it would be Sarawat's eyes. His stilted eyes hardened, a firm example of Manoban heritage burning like amber under the faint glow of the candlelight.

"Listen here, you Westen scum. You had the balls to defile my wife, in my ancestral home and on Middlend ground. My kingdom doesn't take lightly to adulterous shits like you. But you'll live. Oh, You'll live." He cautions, grabbing the other man's jaw forcing him to look at his face. Before he called for the palace scribe, the stout, poor man was trembling as he held his wad of parchments.

"Write this down," he said as he washed his bloody knuckles off. "Let it be known to that dear King of Werston, that this Marco Brüschweiler is to be stripped of his noble heritage and birthrights for the crimes he commited here on foreign land. He has shamed Werston and spat on the Middlend people." Marco's uninjured eye widened in fear, he knew he played with fire but he was not prepared to be burnt.

"And my trike soldiers...Do your Sol Agila a favor and break this scum gentleman's legs..." He sneered. The Middlend trikes soon surrounded Marco, the four of them grabbing his limbs.

Chitthip couldn't protect him now as Sarawat held her back, his grip on her arm firm.

"You see, Marco. The one thing I hated most about you was that you always looked down on me. I don't know what they feed you in Werston for you to grow this tall. Truth is... I like how you are now. Down there. Helpless and weak." Sarawat gave a heavy nod towards the Trike soldiers before dragging his wife away. "So I'd like you to stay that way. Weak. I'll be the one looking down on you from now on."

Sarawat Bhukawal Manoban gave no second glance at the Westen noble who was bleeding in his throne room, not even when Chitthip gripped his jacket as she heard Marco screams and the cracks of his bones. He said nothing when he and his wife arrived at their bedroom. He only drank his mead, and drank and drank as Chitthip looked at him in disbelief. Until the rage took over and he sent his ancestor's goblet flying across the room.

"So it's not mine then? You lied to me Tthip, I was ecstatic when the doctor told us the news. I was going to give that child the world. I was ready to be a father. I was ready to give it all for a child that wasn't even my OWN! "

"Wat...I was going to tell yo-"

"Mark my words. I am a fair man even to those who fucked me over. That child was born out of love, am I right? My Laluna, I won't kill that babe in your belly. Even when it hurts every fiber of my body not to."

He stared at his wife, her face damp with tears. Her nightgown was badly creased and wrinkled, probably due to the manhandling of his Trikes. He made a small note that he would punish them after this talk with his wife.

"My Laluna, when that man's seed is out of you, I'll put another one in. I'll make sure that your next brood is pure Midde, more importantly, a TRUE. FUCKING. MANOBAN."

Lalisa Pranpriya Manoban was 2 years old when her Ma gave birth to her brother, at least that was what her mother told her, said it was a boy because she had this certain feeling. That was today, and her brother was being born behind that door. The exact door that he said she could not come in ever, the Agila was clear that he didn't want a bastard Manshee child anywhere near the true heir of the Manoban name and the crown Agila of the Middlends, her brother was a full blooded Midde. He wasn't like her, he was pure.

Her father hated her. But she wouldn't want to put that hate on her brother. Ever. She would love him and protect him. He was going to be her brother.

She pushed the door open, completely ignoring the Agila's orders. There were multiple medical attendees around her, all dressed white with the Manoban red in stripes. She ran to her mother who was slick in perspiration, she was breathless but she still managed to spare a smile for the bundle in her arms. She was stunning. She really was, she looked beautiful with her brother, cradling him softly.

I wonder if she looked that way when she gave birth to me, to a bastard Manshee.

"Ma, is it a boy? Is it my brother? What's his name, ma?"

"Slow down, Lalisa. One at a time, I've only had him for a few minutes. But yes, I was right. He's a beautiful baby boy and I can already tell that you and Kunpimook will get along we-"

"What the fuck is that bastard doing here? What the FUCK is this Manshee doing near my son?!"

Sarawat came in abruptly, and when Lalisa heard that door burst open. With the Agila, she knew she would get a beating if she stayed. She got his name and she had seen his face. She could play with him when he's older. She'll teach him to dance, to ride a horse and bring him snacks and so so much more, she thought as she slipped away from that room. Running back to the stables.

She had a brother. A beautiful baby brother. Kunpimook and Pranpriya, what a pair they'd be. Lalisa wiped her sweat from her forehead and smiled.

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Author's Note:

All romantic relationships in this story are slow burning. Allow the story to unfold before anything else. Let us tackle the why's, how's and what's.