Uprooted [Idea]


[Any details of the idea are up for change. I've written it in first person, but I can role-play in either perspective. Your gender and our characters' race are also negotiable but I do prefer male or trans partners. I'm dominant, if that's relevant to you. Keep in mind that responses don't need to be this long, I wrote this much for the idea so we can have something very solid to build our story from.

Anyway, without further adue.]

We met in the palace gardens often when we were young, as expected for the boys of noble families. I was a year younger than you but noteably larger in size, and the misbehaving child I was, I lorded my superiority over you in unfair ways, over unfair games. It was harmless perhaps in a way, but in your mind, you would not forget my name for the embarrassment and tears I caused you on such a regular basis. Your parents offered little sympathy on these occasions, rather, seeming merely annoyed that their son conveyed such a... weak demeanor. They never said that exact word, "weak", but the older you became, the more you realized that it was truly what they thought of you - unspoken or not. Maybe it's not even how I teased you as a boy, maybe remembering me was, in reality, just recalling the start of your turbulent relationship with your mother and father.

Years passed on. One would expect you to forget, but our rare run-ins were enough to remind you, if not briefly, of a terrible frustration and anger. It was worsened by how the memories seemed to lay entirely dormant in my mind, acting in only slight indifference upon our locking eyes or little exchanged words. Maybe I had forgotten you entirely. These matters would seem petty in the face of future events. As we reached young adulthood, an invasion began from human conquerers, how they came across the ocean with such sweeping destruction. We elves were so peaceful, to a fault as we now know, walls did not protect our kingdoms, weapons did not defend us, the only way for survival was to run, and run we did.

Your father, an accomplished captain, was no amatuer at the helm of a ship. It was by his own private vessel that he, your mother, and yourself would escape. As the boat began its way along the coast, I, and my family of five others were dashing towards with shouts begging to be let on. They were screams moreso, with terrible cracking fear as barbed arrows shot at our backs. Your father signaled for us to hurry. We dashed towards your boat, fleeing those deadly bolts... You could see my family fall one at a time as we came closer, until the two remaining of us fell upon your vessel with a faithful hop from across the boarding docks. It was myself and my father, we were all who were left from my family, who an hour ago, were six strong.

We left for the oceans, with arrows pelting the hide of the vessel but harming no more. You saw me broken that day. It was a twist of fate you could not expect, to see the person you hated for so long now suffering beyond what they could have ever caused you. Things felt... even, as terrible as it is to say, but perhaps the result was meant to be nicer than the conclusion itself. The fact remains, we are now refugees from a brutal assault, and with minimal supplies, we must seek a new salvation before the disaster claims us all.
Heart this
0 | Sep 16th 2020 20:31