Wayfinding | Aaravos x Reader |

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18: MOTHER KNOWS BEST

The three of you were rendered speechless.

No one even batted an eye.

And the simple act of breathing became something needed to be relearned.

Yet, no one came close to feeling the same trepidation that submerged you. You tried to fend for yourself - tried to remove its deadly clutch from around your throat - and gain control over your unmoving body. But your wild imagination concocted terrible scenarios of how the night would end. And somehow, as hope dissipated, you succumbed to those destructive fantasies. If that wasn't enough, the hairs on the back of your neck started to rise once you observed the dread painted over your companions' features. Whatever destiny had planned - it would likely be shared amongst the three of you.

So, as realization and terror twisted your gut, you prayed - to unknown celestials - hoping that the familiarity of the voice was a brutish trick of the mind.

But, nay.

It was fate that had such cruel humor.

For there she stood - the moonshadow elf that you had learned to call mother since your earliest memory. The commoner's wear she was draped in, which you assumed was to disguise herself, sat inelegantly on her small stature. Yet, that did not make her any less intimidating. Especially not when she carried a sword the size of your torso and had murder tarnishing the azure of her eyes.

"You look different," she said condescendingly. "How'd you like being a human's pet for a bit?"

The vile nature of the elf's tone and her obvious intentions of killing someone that night should have curdled your blood. But instead, you were engulfed by wistfulness. Contrary to popular belief, the imp was not always malicious towards you. She was your parent. She dressed you. Bathed you. Fed you. She comforted, teased, and laughed with you till your bellies ached. And although she was foul-mouthed, you were always smitten by the stories she told while you slept.

So it broke you to see her like this - so heartless and vulgar. "Please . . . why are you doing this?"

The woman rolled her eyes and groaned. "Let's make this quick, alright? Come with me and I'll spare your-"

Before the elf could finish her threat, the Prince and the forger armed themselves with branches. Inyah scowled as the boys stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with you. "Ma'am, we don't want to do this-"

"We really don't-" Uzner interrupted the high-blood in a state of panic.

"So, why don't we try being diplomatic and see where that ends?"

Vexed and impatient, the ruffian charged towards you. Her barbarous glare made you wonder if the vermins of hell had possessed her. Within the blink of an eye, she swung her blade to both your sides and slaughtered the boys' weapons. Thrusting her elbow into your sternum, she threw you a few clicks back until your rump met the edge of the cliff. A petrifying shiver ran down your spine as the upper half of you crossed the overhang. In record time, however, Harrow snatched the collar of your tunic and reeled you in. At your recovery, and the thwack of Smith's backbone meeting the trunk of an old oak tree, a surge of adrenaline devoured you and the Prince. Nodding to one another, you hurtled towards the imp and initiated your unsaid plan.

Though, to be honest, there was not much wit involved in it.

While you audaciously frolicked before Inyah's steel and distracted her, the high-blood channelled his inner ogre and boyish aggression to lung at her. The elf, foreseeing the imminent collision, whipped her sword and severed a chock-full of the male's hair. As grateful as he was that it wasn't his head instead, the noble still grieved over his loss. When the woman's skull struck the ground, an airy gasp eluded her lungs. Once she was impeded, you stormed to her fists in an attempt to disarm her. But because your footwear lacked grip, the mud left you skidding. And, following the series of unfortunate events, the longsword made its grave over the cliff.