"Yo-your child?" Eira's eyes widened, focused on her husband in.
"Eira, after everything you've done for me, do you think I would ever let you go? No. The desire to release my preciousness is nonexistent within me..." He looked at her with determination and possessiveness.
"Precious..." Eira chuckled softly, her nose sniffing slowly as she tried to process the weight of his words.
"There is so much for you to learn about life, about everything. However, I have no time to be your teacher right now. We must leave. I need to remind those wretched savages why I was and still am their king."
The tension in the air began to dissipate, and Eira nodded, understanding the urgency in his voice.
She knew that his other wives had committed a grave transgression by attempting to kill him and claim the elven heart that was not rightfully theirs.
Yet, her disdain for them did not stem from their actions against her, but rather from their attempt on the life of the one she loved.
She was like a young and naive zephyr, always playful and drifting aimlessly.
However, she possessed a stubbornness that caused Arnar to turn his attention away from her and focus on his other three wives. To him, Eira was but a child, a little sister he had raised from a tender age.
He did not regard her as a woman, and she was never granted access to his most precious treasures, only his bed.
Their relationship was confined to sleeping together, her arms wrapped around his chest at best. This was her reward for not annoying or aggravating him, and yet, despite it all, she remained fiercely loyal.
She was the only wife who had not attempted to kill him, deceive him, or steal his power to control the kingdom. Unbeknownst to her, Eira was the delicate flower that Arnar needed the most.
Even amidst his duties of overseeing the kingdom, managing affairs, and building an army, he silently watched over her, not with romantic intent, but as a brother would to his sister.
Eira always felt neglected and yearned for his attention, often scolded by his other wives. Nonetheless, she never gave up and continuously sought his approval. Arnar belonged to her, even if she had to share him with the others. That was her conviction.
Now, hearing his words about choosing her to bear his child and release her from her object-like existence, a wave of flattery washed over her. It felt as if fairy dust had filled her belly, and a warm smile embraced her delicate skin. She was the one.
"I will do my best," she replied, gazing at Arnar as he gently tapped her head.
"I know you will. However, we will need the leaves from the Trees of Everything for you to bear the king's child. As you know, there can only be one," he explained, his eyes fixed upon Eira.
Though the challenges that lay ahead did not concern her as much as the prospect of carrying his child, she nodded, eager to fulfill this role.
"But when?" she inquired with curiosity.
"We have urgent matters to attend to first. We shall discuss this further later, Eira," he replied, removing his hand from her head and striding away. "Let us visit the orcs. They owe me a favor."
Without hesitation, Eira obediently trailed behind him, displaying her loyalty like a devoted pet. Arnar found solace in knowing that there was someone willing to lay down their life for him.
It wasn't that he desired her death, but the knowledge of her readiness to sacrifice herself for his sake brought him a sense of security.
Arnar now had a plan, a determination to retrieve the heart and reveal which treacherous wife it truly belonged to. As they journeyed, he whispered to Eira, instructing her to remain silent and not utter a word upon their arrival.
"Yes, king," she acknowledged, her voice filled with reverence.
The orc village posed a danger for a delicate being like Eira, a gentle breeze of a soul who possessed innocence and naivety.
Arnar felt compelled to warn her about the potential perils they might encounter.
"But why...?" Eira began to ask, her voice laced with curiosity.
"I was afraid you would inquire about that," Arnar sighed, realizing the necessity of addressing her concerns. "It is because orcs are repulsive and vile creatures. However, they still rank higher than demons and humans."
Suddenly, a voice filled Arnar's mind, speaking of demons.
-You deceived me.
Ignoring it, he momentarily forgot about the presence of the intruding peasant within his own body.
"Is everything alright?" Eira inquired, her steps mirrored Arnar's.
"Yes, it's just an irritating pest buzzing around in the air, bothering me," he dismissed, disregarding the voice.
-Am I the pest? the voice retaliated, indignant at being deceived and subsequently ignored.
Arnar paid no heed to the voice, but unbeknownst to him, Eira possessed the power of the wind, enabling her to hear the whispers of forest creatures and even the innermost thoughts of those around her.
It was a power he often forgot she possessed.
Despite his oversight, Eira heard his thoughts loud and clear.
Him. In the witch's house, when he seduced her, Eira had dared to touch that sacred place meant solely for him.
Her hand had delicately brushed against it, as if she had been anticipating this moment her entire life.
There, she had felt something firm, almost painfully so, and yet, she couldn't bear to let go.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she continued to explore within herself, imagining it was him that was touching her.
Something soft in her heart entwined with the hardness she felt.
Her fingers sought out a specific spot, and a wet noise escaped her throat as she began to rub against it. Her breathing grew more intense, and she bit her lip to stifle any sound.
But then, all abruptly ceased for Arnar, and Eira no longer heard the voices. Instead, an unfamiliar and unwelcome voice emerged from within him, something evil lurking beneath the surface.