Hearts of Hunvel

The writers who brought you Born of Men but of Elven Beauty now come together again with the next generation of Hunvel. SilverLoom07, VilyaTook, mook, and Lysse are proud to present Hearts of Hunvel, a tale of adventure, pride, and courage of the hearts of Hunvel.

Prince Dorion couldn't help but feel the object of all attention. It was not just any day for him; it was his seventeenth birthday. This was a moment of manhood, of becoming of age, of being responsible. That word was a dismal reminder of what was about to come.
In the dinning hall, the tables were full of people. Some Dorion didn't know, but most he did. The whole city of Hunvel and nearby residents had come to see him. He noticed---as most young lads do---that the amount of girls at this celebration was more than in past years. They seemed to eye him like candy on a table waiting to be devoured. Dorion did not wish for such a thing; it made him uncomfortable.
Just then, his father, Lord Kiran of Hunvel, rose from his throne located in the front hall and called out to get everyone's attention. The room became silent and all listened. "Will Prince Dorion, my son and heir, come before me?"
Dorion arose, waving softly to Ronin's friends, and with burdened feet made his way to the front. His mother Lady Hiranneth joined Lord Kiran's side and smiled at her elder son.
Lord Kiran spoke again. "Dorion is of age now to receive the heirlooms of my house." Reaching behind his throne, Kiran revealed a small wooden chest that he presented to his son. As Dorion took the chest, his father said softly, "You may open them in your chamber after dinner. There you will see the ancestry of your house and of your blood."
Though everyone wished him to stay and celebrate his birthday, Dorion quietly excused himself from the dining hall, the wooden chest in his arms. He needed some time alone to reflect on his received heirlooms and his big day.

With a sigh, Ronin opened the heavy back door to the dining hall and snuck in. The celebration of his brother's birthday had started only a few minutes ago, but the room was full of joyous Elves and others who had journeyed to see the short ceremony in which Dorion would receive the heirlooms of the kings of Hunvel.
His bright eyes scanned the room for a familiar face. Seated at a table nearby was his small group of friends, Elves who were part of the more common class of Hunvel. They greeted him in the Elven tongue and pulled up a chair for him. It wasn't long before his father, from the front of the room, called Dorion up to the throne. Ronin pondered his brother's actions, which seemed uncomfortable in front of the crowd who had gathered to see him. As he watched him walk off to his room, familiar thoughts entered his mind.
Perhaps he doesn't want to be a ruler. Perhaps he desires a life like mine, free from responsibility, Ronin thought. And he does not know how deeply I desire to be in his place. They've always said he's special, but I am special too! I am always overlooked. I won't even inherit the throne, simply because I am not the firstborn!
His indignant thoughts were interrupted when one of his friends commented to him, "Isn't that the girl you're always talking about, Ronin? That one there, with the red hair?"

"Yeah, that's her," Ronin answered, looking down the table.. "At least I think it's her. I don't know. She looks...older. And beautiful."

Anita was seated at a table not far from the front of the room. She wore a gorgeous cream gown with a low neckline and a beaded headdress. She also, like the rest of her family, wore a small necklace with a miniscule vile attached which held a black liquid. She looked stunning for a girl of only fourteen and caught the eye of many young lads in the hall. Anita's brother, Gerard, sat next to her. Though his vile was not visible, she knew he was wearing it. Their father, Geran, was not far off, probably deep in conversation with some pompous Elf.
Anita sighed and looked around. She saw Ronin, the younger prince, looking at her openly. Another boy was whispering in his ear. Anita smiled winsomely and turned to her brother. "Isn't that your friend gawking at me?"

Gerard started and dropped his spoon. Anita chuckled a light tinkling laugh, one that might compare to the sound of a bell. Gerard frowned and looked at the boy Anita mentioned. "Oh, yes, that's Prince Ronin." He coughed uncomfortably. "When you were gone, I spoke often of you. He was somehow under the impression that you were a child," he said with a grin.

Anita just raised an eyebrow and smirked. "I can certainly change that." With that, she pushed back her chair and sauntered over to the Prince. "You must be his Highness, Prince Ronin. I've heard so much about you." She tossed her red locks as she looked back at her brother. "My brother, he loves to chatter." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gerard lean forward with a frustrated look on his face. Anita smiled slightly, holding up a small hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, your Highness, I am Anita."

As his friends got up from the table, giving him looks that said "Good luck," Ronin found himself shaking Anita's hand, blushing furiously. "There's no need for the formalities," he said. "Dorion's the only real prince around here."
He was suddenly aware that he did not much look the part of prince either. His hair was ruffled and he wore a dark brown and green outfit that seemed to stand out like a sore thumb in the crowd of brightly dressed Elves. Stuttering a bit, he spoke again to cover the short silence that had fallen. "You brother spoke of you often, and quite highly. However, I never got the impression that you were so beautiful. Not that he didn't mention it, but what he said could never compare to seeing you..." He trailed off to another awkward silence.

Anita laughed happily. "Why thank you, but of course you are a real prince," she added seriously. "Throne or not, it's who you are, not what you inherit."

With that, she spun around lightly and headed back to her brother. "He's sweet," she commented with a giggle.

Gerard just laughed and took on a hurt expression. "I chatter?" Anita grinned and left the hall for her room.

Ronin watched Anita leave the room with a glassy-eyed far-away look on his face. His thoughts were consumed by her, the way her red hair fell down in waves that caught the light, the way her green eyes sparkled when she laughed, and the way her cream-colored gown swished gracefully about her feet as she walked. In a bit of a daze, Ronin walked over to Gerard and took a seat next to him. "Your sister," he began. "I…wow. She really is gorgeous. I think I like her." His face blushed bright red, because he never before seemed to have so much trouble saying something so simple. Now his mind was blank and his mouth wouldn't form the right words.

"You're not the first." Gerard said simply to Ronin. He smiled and looked around. "So when does the dessert get here?"

"Who cares about desert?" Ronin exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air to emphasize his words. "Tell me more about her! Do you think she likes me? Do you---" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw the fairly annoyed look on Gerard's face. "Er, sorry. I don't know what got into me."

Gerard broke into a grin. "No matter. Go easy on her."

Although Dorion's party was not through, he made his way to his room. In his arms he held his wooden chest full of heirlooms. He stammered around the halls and almost fell in his pursuit for his bedroom door. As he ran into the wall, the chest opened and a wrapped package fell out, landing lightly on the ground. With great frustration he moved his body and tried to balance the chest on his right arm and reach the fallen package with his right.
He slipped in his maneuver, and before he could react further the chest fell out of his arms, packages tumbling out onto the floor. He moaned loudly and exclaimed, "What else could possibly happen?"
He suddenly heard footsteps coming his way.

Anita rounded a corner and stopped suddenly when she saw the elder prince struggling with several packages. "Um, excuse me, your Highness, would you like some help?" It was the first time she had stuttered for years. She blushed and picked a few parcels off the top of the pile. Anita opened the door for Prince Dorion and waited for him to go in first. He is so tall...Anita followed in a daze and placed the packages she held on his large bed. Not saying another word, she managed to curtsy gracefully and turned to leave, blushing furiously.

Dorion was a bit stunned by the beautiful girl that helped him with his packages. A small, brief smile came across his face as the girl opened the door for him. With great relief he placed the remaining packages in the chest down on the bed. He turned and noticed that she was still there, and what's more, she curtsied. He placed his hands on his head, trying to hide his frustration, then finally spoke to her. "Have I met you, miss, or are you simply one of the guests?"

Anita stopped in mid-stride and turned around. "I am Anita, a guest of course, but my brother is also good friends with Prince Ronin," she replied, realizing she had been holding her breath.

Dorion frowned as the girl spoke. He did not know any of his brother's friends. "Well," he mumbled as he scratched his head, "it's nice to meet you, I suppose."

The young redhead nodded. "The pleasure is all mine, your Highness." With that, she fled the room, all the while with butterflies in her stomach. She flew down the castle steps and collapsed on a bench outside.

Laurëa sat at a table near the front of the great dining hall idly, her head resting on her fist, staring at the full plate before her. "This is so dull," she muttered.
"We did not come here to be entertained, Laurëa. We came to honor the Lord of Hunvel's elder son," said Leeum who sat beside her. His grey-blue eyes narrowed slyly. "Who is quite handsome, I am told," he added.
"But---"
"Laurëa, mind your father," interrupted her mother. Ahéawan smiled fondly at her daughter. "We won't stay much longer, but your father wants to congratulate Kir--the Lord and Lady before we leave."
Laurëa rolled her eyes and fondled a strand of her white-blonde hair, a feature inherited from her father Leeum. "But these people here," her eyes shifted around her disgustedly, "are so...common! Peasants, some of them!"
Leeum looked sharply at his daughter. "They have all come to congratulate the Lord's son. As have we. Now I will not have any more of that sort of talk about the people of Hunvel, is that understood?"
Again rolling her eyes, Laurëa nodded faintly, seeing the frown both her parents were giving her. She stared back down at her full plate, not feeling the least bit hungry, the uneasiness of having dirty peasants around her ruining her appetite. She fell to her common habit of tracing the family mark on her cheek with her finger, waiting for the night to be over with a disgusted sneer.
"Eat something, dear," Ahéawan said to her daughter. Upon receiving no reply, she looked up the hall to where Lord Kiran and Lady Hiranneth sat enjoying their meal together. "Let us go congratulate our Lord and Lady, Leeum," she suggested cheerfully. Both her and her husband got up from their table. "Come, Laurëa!" Ahéawan called as they started toward the head table.
With a soft moan, Laurëa got slowly up from the table, dusting off her crimson robes. She followed behind her parents with her nose in the air, ignoring the looks of the people she passed. This is going to be a long night...

Hiranneth watched as the dinning hall buzzed with particular excitement. Seeing old friends and meeting new ones brought back fond memories. She took Kiran's hand as they both sat back down in their thrones. She found herself looking for Ahéawan and Leeum; how she wished they had come. Suddenly out of the crowds, she saw their smiling faces. They were dressed especially well for the occasion and looked like they hadn't changed a day. Hiranneth admitted it hadn't been that long since she last saw them, but being of nobility in Hunvel meant a lot of time away from friends. She stood up along with Kiran and gave both Ahéawan and Leeum warm embraces.
"It is wonderful to see you here," she beamed at them.

Ronin laughed along with Gerard as he was teased about Anita. His eyes scanned the crowds, most of which had gathered around the thrones at the front of the room. He could see his parents greeting guests.
His father appeared to be in deep conversation with two of the guest whom he recognized as Leeum and Ahéawan, people of some importance in the town whose positions Ronin could not remember. Behind them was a girl about their age, presumably their daughter, looking bored out of her mind. Ronin saw that Gerard had looked in that direction too to see what held his attention.
"Shall we go save her?" Ronin asked. "She looks bored."

"Sure, why not?" Gerard replied with a shrug. The two lads made their way over to the bored-looking girl. "Could we pry you from this most interesting conversation?" he asked her with a very straight face.

Laurëa had stood close by uninterested as her parents talked with the Lord and Lady of Hunvel, smiling curtly and curtsying in all the right places, as she had been brought up to do. As her parents continued making small talk, Laurëa folded her arms and leaned against a nearby wall, inspecting her fingernails.

It took Laurëa a moment to realize someone was talking to her. She straightened instantly, prepared to meet someone important, only to meet two boys about her age, both plain and rather dirty. It must have been the red-headed boy that had spoken, for he was looking at her strangely, as if expecting a reply.
Laurëa only sneered at him. "I beg your pardon?" she asked rather rudely.

Gerard's handsome face creased with a frown. "Laurëa, it's me. Gerard." He looked expectantly at her and turned to look at Ronin, who simply gave him a look that spoke volumes. "Uh, I can see you've grown." In fact, she hadn't really grown at all. Gerard had never really known her well, but they had certainly met before. "You look very nice." He suddenly regretted his words; he knew all too well how she hated the word nice.

Laurëa wrinkled her nose in thought as she tried to remember the youth's face. Gerard...yes. The one with the coquette sister. "Ah. Gerard." Her sneer did not lessen any as she looked him up and down. "I don't believe you have grown any. You've just as many freckles as ever." She noticed the discomfort growing on his face and smirked.

Gerard's green eyes darkened and his face was as calm as ever. "Why thank you, your majesty." He said in a steely tone. "Mind your head. I've heard that small girls with parents high up on the ladder are prone to big heads when they grow up, if that is what you're planning on doing sometime soon," Gerard spat with a finality that left no question of further comment. With that, he walked coolly away.

Laurëa sneered again as the red-head Gerard marched off, but sly satisfaction played on her face. After a moment of watching him leave, she suddenly noticed the other youth that had been watching the entire conversation with a frown. Laurëa studied him with her cold grey-blue eyes. "You are Ronin, aren't you?"

"Prince Ronin, actually," he said, staring into her eyes, wondering just what it would take to make her uncomfortable. He pondered what insults he knew, but was interrupted by his father, who seemed just now to have noticed him there. He broke off from his conversation for a moment to speak to them.
"Ronin, why don't you take Laurëa here out to the gardens?" his father asked. "And if you see you brother out there, you can send him in? I need to speak to him."
With a sigh, Ronin nodded. He turned and walked off towards the gardens, not bothering to see if Laurëa was following. She didn't seem very pleasant to be around anyway, and he would not be saddened if she didn't follow him.

Laurëa watched Prince Ronin stride off, then looked to her parents. They were still talking, now with other esteemed members of the Council of Hunvel, and from the looks of it they were going to continue doing so for quite some time. A slight frown creased the corners of her mouth as she stared down the hall after the retreating form of Ronin. After a moment of thought, she picked up her skirts and strode off after him. I need some fresh air anyway, she thought, the open skies of the palace gardens in mind.

Gerard exited the dining hall to find his sister sitting thoughtfully on a bench in the garden. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" he commented peevishly.

"What's gotten into you?" Anita asked mildly.

Gerard sighed. "Oh it's that girl, Laurëa, the one that called you a coquette a while back. She's worse than ever," he grumbled.

Anita felt the heated grudge arise in her and she glared at the ground. "Oh yes...her."

Geran pried himself away from the drawling Elves in whose company he had somehow fallen. He still felt uncomfortable in this place. He wasn't meant for great halls. Yet however he felt, he looked the part. He wore a black doublet and crimson leggings. His dark red hair was pulled back with a black chord, and his short beard was trimmed. He stood in silent contemplation, and decided to congratulate the Lord and Lady, though he had never really spoken to them, only seen them in tapestries and gazed at them as they stood on a faraway balcony. He sighed and turned to leave the dining hall, but some unseen force held him there watching the Lady Hiranneth greet a few guests.

Hiranneth's attention was immediately drawn to a man with dark red hair standing awkwardly in a corner of the room. He looked as if he wanted to speak to her, yet still stood silently. Hiranneth excused herself from the company of Leeum and Ahéawan and walked over to him. He seemed nervous as she made her way.
"Hello," she said while taking his hand in hers. "I do believe I know of you, yet perhaps we have met before."
She knew this was a lie; she had never met him before. But something drew her to him that she could not explain.

"I don't think we have, your Majesty." Geran said smoothly. "Perhaps you knew one of my brothers. I have four of them---or was it three?" He laughed easily but then stopped. He went silent and a pained look entered his clouded green eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't bore you with my family life. Your guests are probably waiting."

Hiranneth face grew pale as it dawned on her. This must be one of Kiarton's brothers. He sure did look like him and his laugh was ghostly to her. She bowed her head to him and said, "I did know your kin, sir. Kiarton was my good friend." She noticed him move uncomfortably; perhaps he was wondering how she knew Kiarton. "Your brother gave his life to save Hunvel."

Geran's face grew stony, and he felt his heart sink. In reality, he and his family had always known they would never see Kiarton again. Long ago, he had learned life wasn't some happy fairytale where the good always wins. It was the real world, Middle Earth, where death and evil were ever present and justice not.

The reality of life finally set in: his older brother was gone. Geran only stood straighter and his eyes were fierce. "I am proud of him then. He was never happy living; he knew he would die fighting." He bowed fluidly and set his teeth. "Thank you for your knowledge, your Majesty."
He turned around and stepped out of the hall. Leaning against a wall, a single tear ran down his darkened face. You always knew this, Geran. You knew he had died, he told himself quietly. But he died with valor, the way he wanted.