Witch Of The White Wood

Relative

Relations between the fairy and human kingdoms were tense since the death of the Fairies king and the public execution of Erics father. His cravings for violence and frequent indulgence in lavish goods which began to slowly plunder the kingdoms economy were known among the people and regularity chastised. And His anger which caused him to strike down a dear friend, monarch and ally created a massive rift that was yet to be filled.
Despite the queens best efforts in mending this rift the damage had been done. The damage on both young heirs was immeasurable. Eventually becoming so massive that both monarchs had grown a distaste for the other. The duality on how they handled the incident also causing seeds of hatred within the souls of their people.
Frankly, the murder of both kings left a sour taste in either parties mouth. While Eric and (y/n) both believed their party to have done no wrong there were those who still protested. Due to the stance of neutrality and peace which had been called into question by their response being so uncharacteristically violent Eric began to see this race as another pillar of animosity in his self-victimisation crusade. He and his father in his eyes had done no wrong it was just another life lain wasted in the attempts to return the holy relic to where it belonged.
And when the late Queen came knocking at the gates of the palace with a group of able-bodied men and women, spears, bows and swords in hand demanding reconciliation for all they had done no one could deny the immense fear the collective faced. Despite this nation not knowing much of the art of war nor being heavily trained to partake in it, no one can deny the base instinct and natural human propensity to violence when angered or afraid.
And on that day, not a single smile was shared between friends, the only sound that could be heard was that of the screams of rage and the battering down of the castle gates as countless fairies stormed the castle to avenge their fallen King. Of course they were met with resistance but nothing can hold down an angry mob for very long. Especially one that has the natural advantage of magic.
It took thirty minutes for the mob of people to get from the castle gates to the throne room. No life was taken despite countless becoming injured. But an insatiable need for reconciliation drove the forces onwards. And there he sat, quivering alone on the floor of his throne room. Hands outstretched in a plea for mercy as his red face pulled back into a look of fear. His young son held away from the violence by his mother who hung her head as she watched their old friend stride up to her husband, picking the crown off his head and dashing it across the floor with a sickening crack that broke the sounds of the mans sobs and pleas. He whimpered, staring up at the enraged woman who simply glowered down at him, waving a hand towards two of the men stood behind her.
They approached the whimpering man, holding him by his arms as he struggled weakly. As they slowly carried the man out it grew silent in the throne room, only the sounds of a woman crying and a baby babbling could be heard.
The queen stayed behind as her army carried the king out, she stood stuck in place watching the woman and baby for a while before walking up to them carefully and placing a hand on the woman's shoulder. She took in the sight of the two, the child was the spitting image of his father, they shared the same cheeky stare and chubby cheeks. There was a concerning selfishness in his eyes that was one that she had never seen in a child before. Raising her eyes to the child's mother she offered a small apology.
'I am sorry to have to do this to you Liane. But I cannot overlook this, I hope one day you can forgive me.' Her words were sincere but cold, there was no life in her eyes that was evident. Liane sobbed thickly, sniffling as she heard the sounds of her husband screaming outside the castle. 'I understand...' she looked off.
Nodding the queen moved to leave the throne room, sparing one last look at the unfortunate pair as she let the giant iron doors slam behind her. The soft sounds of crying echoing through the halls.
The king was hung on the commoners gallows, a place he frequently took delight in attending as his regime revelled in the death of commoners and the less fortunate who could not pay the increasingly high tax he set out for his citizens.
In the aftermath, the young son the man had left behind had come to his own conclusion that his father did nothing wrong and was unlawfully killed. This sentiment being carried mirrored his corrupt fathers world view far too much however, he needed provisions, he needed medical care and more importantly he needed a wife. In his eyes, what greater way of paying recompense than having the hand of the woman who's mother killed his father.
He was willing to overlook the transgression under the fact that the kingdom he despised even more than the white wood was the Elves. Under the condition that Eric's kingdom was payed with monthly trade of goods as well as medical care and safe passage through the white woods he was appeased in keeping the Fairies around and not making an enemy out of them. Unfortunately it wasn't as if he could really do much about them anyway, two against one was far too much than he was willing to even attempt but... the eye candy of two thrones was incredibly appealing.
If only he could get the new queen to reconsider his marriage offer and abide by his trade laws.
Eric sat on his throne, small plate of chicken to his right and a bottle of the finest wine of his country to his left. He posed victoriously as the painter before him etched his likeness into the canvas diligently. Reminding him frequently to get his best angle.
In this moment in walked the young paladin and Erics newest recruit. Sitting up in his chair with a sinister smirk he addressed the two. 'So, how did your audience with her majesty go?' He sneered at the two as he took a bite from his plate next to them, gluttonously revelling in the flavour and devouring another bite hastily. The two knelt down at his feet, bowing their heads. Butters was the first to speak up for the pair.
He stammered lightly for a moment before addressing the king with a letter adorned with beautiful red ink. Eric scoffed at the visual of red ink. It was common for other kingdoms that were not as affluent to have to create their dyes and inks from other substances, especially those that were close to nature. Many of the Elven and Fairy inks were made from fresh flowers or fruits and had a lingering sweetness to them. These small acts of natural beauty disgusted Eric. Why waste time fiddling with flowers when they could be expanding their territory or creating a machine to do it for them.
He shook his head, wiping the grease off his fingers onto his large robe. He ripped the letter open, light grease stains adorning the paper regardless of his previous efforts.
He scanned his eyes quickly over the letter, occasionally stopping at a word and having to get the young paladin to explain its meaning, cursing at the queen for using such over the top language.

'Dearest Eric,

While I appreciate your outstretched hand in alliance I am afraid we must decline your offer for trade. Our kingdoms histories are no secret and I find your ways, laws and excuse at living unpalatable. This is not an instigation of war nor is it a call of animosity however, if you insist on entering our lands and tainting our soil further i have no problem in striking your soldiers down.
I will not be marrying you in any possible era or existence so please stop insisting on this union neither of us want.
Despite my best efforts to remain cordial with you and your kingdom you have frequently ignored my orders and caused more harm than good.

I am reinstating the terms of your agreement as follows.
You and your army have no place on our lands, if found we have the right to detain whomever we find or act in self defence.
No medical aid, magical equipment, items or aid will be provided to you and your men.
No provisions or other goods will be traded as per our last agreement.
However, as these were the key terms laid out in our previous agreement which you simply disregarded, I will be adding an additional clause to the original arrangement.
The sacred relic will be returned to my kingdom and I will be putting an end to this war.

This is not a request.'

The letter continued and as Eric read on he couldn't help but scream in rage, standing from his throne and forcing a hand out to shatter his wine. He stalked his way towards the throne rooms ginormous windows with a scowl. Staring dangerously out he watched as people walked his cobbled streets, carts and horses pulling mechanical parts and coal along the streets. His eyes trailed over towards the walls of his kingdom, staring out into the dark forest.
'Y-your highness?' The young paladin timidly questioned, walking up behind the king. Shaking lightly the king began to laugh boisterously. 'This means war.' He grinned maliciously, eyes still trained on the forest.
'But, we're already at war...' Butters began only to be quickly stunted as Eric slammed his foot on the ground.
'Nobody asked you butters!! Now go clean that up.' He screamed, walking out of the room with a gesture to the shattered wine bottle that was staining his marble floors.