Page 14 of Wed to the Dark Elf

Yet unease still chews my marrow. The conspirators in our dungeons speak little, but the interrogation continues. Whatever their foul purpose, it runs deeper than a handful of rogues and malcontents. I must root out the source threatening my rule.

These thoughts burdenme as I make my nightly rounds of the sentry posts. Frost glazes the stones, winter sinking its teeth once more into the Northlands. I hardly feel the cold anymore. A leader standing vigil, same as countless nights before this. But now there are warmer fires waiting in my hearth and bedchamber. Home calls me back.

Iris sits brushing her hair by the fire when I return, lost in thought. She starts from her reverie at my entrance, lips curving in her gentle smile. But the persistent crease between her brows reveals her own lingering disquiet from recent events. I settle on my knees before her chair, taking both her small hands between my own.

“You are still troubled, my love. I see it plain on your face.”

Iris's fingers tighten on mine. “It’s just...why would any elf plot such evils against their own? What deeper purpose drives them?” Her eyes plead for answers beyond my grasp.

I wish I could erase all fears. But I share them. “You speak wisely. There must be some guiding hand behind these puppets’ strings. I aim to cut them all.”

“But take care, husband.” Iris leans close, her floral scent enveloping me. “Evil that hides in shadows can strike from any unseen angle. Be wary.”

Such innocence, still convinced justice and light must prevail if only the hero stands stalwart. She cannot fathom the blackness creeping at the edge of the firelight. I stroke her soft cheek, wishing to shield her from life’s harsh truths a while longer. Some burdens are not meant for her shoulders.

“All will be well, Iris. With you at my side, I feel renewed purpose.” The admission comes unbidden. This young human girl has awoken feelings and vulnerabilities foreign to me before our fateful match. I find myself craving her nearness beyond the demands of fathering heirs or quelling gossip. A true partner, lighting my way.

Impulsively I gather Iris into my lap. She comes willingly, arms twining around my neck. The simple joy of holding her slender form against me is balm for my battered spirit. I breathe her in, filtering out the world's darkness for this stolen moment.

“You give me strength,” I murmur into her flaxen hair. Her lips find my jaw, a delicate caress full of unspoken emotion. We cling together, two souls united against gathering storms. Let them crash against these walls, we will not be shaken.

A cough at the chamber door shatters our fragile peace. I glance up to see Althir shifting his weight awkwardly, clearly discomforted intruding on such intimacy. I flatten my expression, lifting Iris gently as I stand.

“Yes? What brings you at this hour?”

Althir shoots Iris an apologetic look. “Urgent tidings, my lord. More dissidents have been seized trying to flee the valley.” His mouth twists in distaste. “They wore the king’s own royal crest.”

Ice grips my heart. The northern king who shares our borders has ever bristled at my autonomy in the mountains, regarding my hall as a vassal state rather than independent domain. But outright treason against me is a brazen escalation.

Iris's hand flies to her mouth in dismay. I gentle my response for her sake. “I see. Thank you for informing me. We will continue this discussion on the morrow.”

Taking my dismissal, Althir departs with another bow. As soon as the door shuts, Iris turns anxious eyes up at me. “The king himself turned against you? Then you are sorely outmatched, husband.”

I crush down my own spiking fear. The northern king could bring twenty thousand swords against my one thousand if he so desired. But thoughts of open war must wait for solid proof.

“Peace, Iris. We do not know his direct involvement yet. I must handle this delicately.” I brush aside loose strands of her hair, seeing immediately my platitudes do not satisfy. Her gaze bores into me, demanding truth. I owe her that much.

“If the king has turned on me, things could become...difficult. But do not lose heart. We will weather this storm as we have all others.” I take her small chin between my thumb and knuckle, gently. “Trust in me, wife.”

Iris's eyes shine in the firelight, but she blinks back frightened tears and nods bravely. “I do trust you. We will face whatever comes, side by side.” Rising on tiptoes, she kisses me firmly if chastely. A caress imbued with her faith and devotion. I can only strive to be the man she believes me to be, to guide us through this suddenly uncertain future.

Over the next few days I interrogate the dissidents personally, Iris insisting on attending to bolster my resolve. Her presence proves a surprising boon. While my questioning elicits only smug silence or laughable falsehoods, Iris's deceptively gentle probing teases out several threads of truth not apparent to me. Whatever taint of deception once marked her, she aids me now with an open heart and cunning intellect. Watching her match wits with the prisoners, I feel only fierce pride in the peerless woman she becomes before my eyes.

Gradually a picture emerges. A network of agitators sent by the king himself to infect my court, weakening faith in my leadership. The plan went beyond mere infiltration and sabotage. More seek to undermine and replace me entirely with a puppet ruler who could better control my unruly mountain fief. It seems the wolves at my door come not just with teeth but garbed in friendly skins.

This campaign of silent treachery stabs deeper than any battlefield defeat. But Iris remains undaunted. “Lies and deception cannot stand before truth and courage,” she declares boldly to me one night. “We will drag this corruption into light and cut it out at the roots.”

Her resolute optimism heartens me. But privately I acknowledge the odds mount beyond our current strength. If the king has turned against me in truth, even courage may not suffice. He could march an army tomorrow and raze my fortress by year's end. I must secure allies and prepare my people for the harsh trials ahead.

Firstly, I send out riders to my neighboring lords, subtly hinting at stirrings of discontent in the north. A wise man strengthens his friendships before necessity forces his hand. I also double the guard at our borders, recommission emergency rationing plans, and fast-track soldiers' training for the younger generation. We will not face our enemy unready.

Lastly, I present Iris with a sheathed dagger, small but viciously sharp, its hilt set with our house colors. She jerks back at first touch like it's a viper.

“Husband, I cannot...I do not know how...”

“You must learn. I will have our finest trainer instruct you.” I close her fingers around the leather-wrapped hilt. She blinks up at me, accepting the weapon reluctantly.

“Dangerous days are coming, Iris. I cannot always be at your side. But I will feel better knowing you can protect yourself, if needed.”

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