Scribbles and Drabbles

The Peace Treaty

Summary: Aelric Hartwin was a General in a land war between the immortal elves and the moral humans. A peace treaty has been struck but the elves want their prizes. Some handsome Generals will suffice for now.

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The War had been hard. Hartwin had heard rumours of peace coming with some unusual terms and conditions. People were being wed off to the elves and not all of them had been female. Then he had received his own summons to court. Fear had filled him. He had made his sacrifices for the crown, surely the King couldn't ask more from him.

It turns out he could.

"You want me to do what?" demanded Hartwin shocked and in disbelief of what he had just been told.

"I want you to go as an ambassador to the Summerwood's court," The man in front of him said calmly, unsurprised by the general's confusion. The King had been expecting the man to put up a fight. They had spent the last few years fighting against the elves after all. "I know it is sudden and given your history with the court surprising but..." he trailed off.

General Hartwin had been on the frontlines against the Summerwood for most of the wood. Hartwin had been polite and courteous to the representatives but his feelings had always been clear. It was just a shame one of the more powerful of elves had taken a shine to him.

"I am not the sort you want to send on a peace mission!" Hartwin argued, his face twisted in disbelieve and almost anger at the suggestion. He knew the rumours. This wasn't an ambassadorship. He was being sold off like cattle. "Forgive me for being blunt my lord, but frankly, I am planning to spend the rest of my days hating them. Preferably somewhere as far away from their border where such a thing would not cause trouble," he said tightly not about to risk any more anger in his voice.

"While I admire your desire not to cause trouble, it worries me you are planning to spend your life hating them. They aren't evil, Hartwin," the King commented, a concerned look on his face at that news.

"Unless you have forgotten, they slaughtered the valley I lived in, my lord. Baring one village lucky enough to escape," Hartwin stated coldly.

The King flinched. He had forgotten Hartwin had come from that particular valley. The place no one wanted to talk about, the darkest part of the war that ensured many of the humans would never truly forgive the elves for what they did. The elves had tried to offer reparations for the razing but it would burn in the hearts of those who had lost people there for a long time yet.

"You do not wish for peace between our two races?" The King asked in an odd tone, taking a different route to the one he had first planned. The first route was not going to help with such a deep wound.

"I didn't say I didn't want peace," Hartwin stated, his eyes taking a tired look. He slumped and sat on a chair which had been set out for him, closing his eyes, and rubbing his brow.

The room was a private one used for audiences. It was a fancy room with golden detailing and fancy chairs. There was a fire roaring to the side but it didn't stop the room from being chilly though. Hartwin pulled his clothes tighter for warmth. The clothes were far more elaborate that what he preferred but an audience with the King required some care, even if they knew each other as they did. Hartwin and the King had fought together, sparred together. The King knew personally what Hartwin's hopes had been for the future.

The King didn't say anything, just sitting near him and waiting for the man to be ready. They weren't that dissimilar in looks. Both of them had the black hair of their people, with brown eyes and warm beige skin. Hartwin had warm undertones in his skin which matched with the slight redness of his hair when the sun shone brightly. The King's hair had more of a purple tint with cool undertones. Hartwin's warm colours felt dimmed tonight, with the look of defeat on his face.