Chapter 6 #2
“Not all were willin’.” Khaeric’s voice turned harsh, shame darkening his eyes. “Some were taken. Raids on human villages, women carried back to the mountain.” His jaw tightened. “Others came through agreements. Women seeking protection, or gold paid to desperate families who sold their daughters.”
Aeryn’s stomach clenched.
“And some…” he continued. “Some were love matches. Rare, but they happened. Human and elf-blooded women who chose orc mates of their own accord.”
She tried to imagine those who had been torn from their homes or sold by their families and brought into this mountain to bear children for men they’d never met.
“The treaty…” Her eyes widened. “It’s not just about peace, is it? It’s about finding willing mates for your people.”
Khaeric’s gaze held hers. “The treaty serves many purposes, lass. Peace, aye. Secured trade routes. But yes, finding willin’ mates is part of it.”
“That’s why you said I was the beginning,” she whispered. “If I chose to be.”
“Aye,” he said quietly. “When humans see the chieftain’s son wed to a princess—when they see a woman find no’ just safety but respect among us—it opens the door.
For two decades now, we’ve sought new paths.
Ways beyond raids and purchased brides.” His hand reached for hers, fingers brushing her palm.
“The treaty wi’ yer father’s kingdom is part of that.
Willin’ mates through alliance, not force. ”
Aeryn tightened her grip around Khaeric’s hand. “The women here now,” she said, her voice careful. “The mothers, the wives… how did they come to be here? Are they content?”
Khaeric was quiet for a long moment. “Some are love matches, like I said. But no’ many.” His eyes found hers. “Most came through arrangements. Debts paid, protection offered, gold exchanged.”
“And the others?” She had to ask, though she dreaded the answer.
“Some were taken in raids, aye. Three decades ago, before my father began seeking other ways.” His voice carried shame. “They’re treated wi’ respect now. Fed well, given chambers of their own. Their sons are claimed and honored. But I willnae pretend they chose this life.”
Aeryn’s stomach twisted. “Do they ever try to leave?”
“Where would they go? Most have been here years, even decades. Their families believe them dead or lost. Their sons…” Khaeric shrugged helplessly. “Would ye abandon yer child?”
“I’d like to meet some of them,” Aeryn said.
Khaeric studied her face. “There’s a gathering place. A chamber where the women meet in the evenings. If ye truly wish to understand…” He paused. “It won’t be easy, Aeryn. Some of their stories are hard to hear.”
A dozen women sat in a rough circle, some mending clothes, others tending children who played at their feet. The conversation stilled as Khaeric appeared with Aeryn at his side.
“Mira,” Khaeric said with clear respect. “This is Princess Aeryn.”
An older human woman with graying hair and weathered hands looked up from her stitching. “Well now, a princess?” Mira gestured to an empty space in the circle. “Sit if ye like.”
Aeryn hesitated at the doorway. The women’s eyes tracked her; some were curious and some were wary. “Thank you for allowing me to join you,” she said.
A younger woman with auburn hair snorted. “As if we could refuse the Chieftain’s son’s mate.” Her accent marked her as northern, from the borderlands near the mountains.
“Elise,” Mira said, her voice gentle but firm. “Mind your tongue.”
Khaeric shifted uncomfortably behind her. “I’ll leave ye be. I’ll return in an hour.”
As the door closed behind him, the tension shifted. Shoulders relaxed, voices lowered. Aeryn took the offered seat beside Mira, feeling oddly vulnerable without Khaeric’s presence.
“So,” Mira said, her needle flashing in the light as she continued her mending. “What brings the new bride to our little gathering?”
Aeryn folded her hands in her lap. “I wanted to understand. About how you came to the mountain. About your lives here.”
Some women exchanged glances; others focused intently on their work, fingers moving faster through fabric and thread. One young mother pulled her child closer.
“Understand?” Elise’s laugh was sharp. “What’s there to understand, Princess? We were taken. We bear sons. We endure.”
Aeryn felt the reflexive pull to explain herself, to say her marriage had been arranged too, but the thought curdled as soon as it formed. Whatever had been taken from her, it was not the same as what these women experienced. So she stayed silent.
“I chose him.” An elf-blooded woman with olive-toned skin and dark, wavy hair spoke from across the circle.
“Not all of us were taken,” she continued, adjusting the small orcling in her arms. The baby stirred, green fingers curling around the edge of its soft hide blanket.
“Some of us chose this life. This mountain.”
“You chose?” Aeryn couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.
“My name is Essa of Clan Tarrn. I came to the mountain five seasons ago, of my own free will.” She shifted the small orcling; the baby cooed softly against her chest. “I met Gorrak when he was trading near my village in the borderlands. I was a healer’s apprentice, and he brought an injured companion to me. ”
“They stayed a week while his friend healed. Gorrak was different from what I’d been told to expect of an orc.
” A soft smile touched her lips. “He spoke of the mountain with such reverence, of his clan’s traditions with such pride.
He saw value in my healing skills and didn’t try to speak over me.
When he prepared to leave, he asked if I would consider becoming his mate. ”
Aeryn leaned forward, drawn by the warmth in Essa’s voice. “And you agreed? Just like that?”
“Not immediately. I took time to consider what life in the mountain would mean.” Her fingers traced the baby’s small, pointed ear. “My mother was horrified. My father threatened to disown me. But I knew what I wanted. I came to the mountain a month later. We were bonded that same night.”
“And you’ve never regretted it?”
“Regretted finding a mate who respects me?” Essa’s chin lifted. “No. I regret nothing about my choice.”
Elise made a dismissive sound. “You’re one woman with one story.”
“We all have different stories, Your Highness,” Mira said. “Not better or worse. Just different.”
Aeryn nodded. “How did you come to the mountain, Mira?” she asked.
The older woman’s fingers stilled on her needlework.
“I was taken during a raid. Forty years ago now.” Her voice was matter-of-fact, no bitterness coloring the words.
“I was newly married to a farmer at the edge of Westervale. We’d been wed just three months when the raid came.
I was hanging laundry when they took me. ”
The casual way Mira spoke of her abduction made it somehow more terrible. “It was a different time. The raids were common then. My husband tried to fight them off. He died with a spear through his chest.” Mira resumed her stitching. “I screamed myself hoarse for days after they brought me here.”
“What changed?” Aeryn asked.
“Time. And my first son. When they placed him in my arms, this tiny green thing with my eyes, everything shifted. He needed me. And I found I needed him too.”
Elise scoffed. “You make it sound like there’s nothing wrong with being stolen from your home and forced to bear children for your captors.”
“I didn’t say that,” Mira replied, giving Elise a patient look. “I’m telling my story, not justifying what was done to me.”
Aeryn looked between the women. “And now? Are you happy here?”
“Happy?” Mira considered the question before she resuming her work. “I’ve raised three sons in this mountain. I’ve learned to live with what cannot be changed.” She met Aeryn’s gaze. “I wouldn’t call it happiness, but I’ve found peace.”
“And what about you?” Aeryn turned to Elise, whose hostility seemed to mask deeper wounds. “How did you come to be here?”
Elise’s fingers twisted in her lap, her shoulders stiff. “I was one of the last women traded. A trade caravan stopped in my village. My father had debts. He sold me for five bags of gold and a promise I’d be treated well.”
A daughter, traded away like livestock. The echo of her own arrangement whispered through Aeryn’s mind, though she knew the comparison was imperfect. “And were you? Treated well?” she asked.
“Well enough,” Elise said with a bitter laugh. “I wasn’t beaten. I wasn’t starved. Morrik gave me my own chamber eventually.” Her fingers twisted the fabric of her skirt. “But I never wanted to be here. I never wanted his children. I never chose this mountain or this life.”
Another woman spoke up. “Not all the men were kind in those days.” She was older, her hair streaked with silver, her hands calloused from years of labor. “Some thought we should be grateful for shelter and food. As if that was enough to make up for what they’d taken from us.”
“Ye can always leave,” Essa said, shifting her baby to her other shoulder. “Some have.”
Aeryn blinked in surprise. “But Khaeric said—”
“That we have nowhere to go?” Mira’s expression softened. “For many, that’s true. But not all.”
“What happens to those who try?” Aeryn asked, brows furrowed.
The women exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. Finally, Mira spoke. “Some make it back to their villages. Others…” She hesitated. “The mountain is dangerous for those who don’t know its paths.”
“But no one hunts them down? Forces them back?”
“Not anymore. Things have changed with Korrath’s leadership,” Mira said.
A soft knock interrupted their conversation. The door creaked open, and Khaeric’s broad frame filled the entrance as he scanned the room before settling on Aeryn.
Aeryn rose from her seat. “Thank you for sharing your stories with me,” she said, looking around the circle. Some women nodded; others simply returned to their work.
Khaeric and Aeryn left the gathering chamber, the door closing behind them with a soft thud that echoed through the corridor. The weight of the women’s stories pressed against Aeryn’s chest. Her hand found his as they walked, fingers threading through his larger one.
Khaeric’s grip tightened briefly, a silent acknowledgment. They walked in silence for several paces, their footsteps echoing off stone walls lit by the soft glow of the crystal clusters.
“That was difficult to hear,” she said finally.
“Aye.” His thumb traced across her knuckles. “But ye needed to hear it. To understand what my kin has done. What we’re tryin’ to move beyond.”
“You carry their pain,” she said softly. “All of it.”
His gaze dropped to their joined hands. “It’s my people’s legacy. Mine to bear.”
“But you weren’t there. You didn’t order those raids.”
“No.” He lifted his eyes to hers, and the weight in them made her chest tighten.
“But I benefit from what was done. Every breath I take is because women—some willin’, some not—bore sons for my kin.
My own mother came through an ‘arrangement’ between my father and a human family.
She chose to stay, but the choice was hers to make only after she arrived.
” He paused, drawing her to a stop in the corridor.
“I’m the son of that union. She died givin’ birth to me.
How do I separate myself from that history? ”
“You’re not your father’s sins,” she said, her voice firm. “Or your people’s.”
His jaw worked, the muscles tensing beneath his grey skin. “I carry the responsibility to do better. To be better.”
She stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to hold his gaze. “You are,” she whispered. “You’re trying to change things. The treaty, the alliances, finding willing mates instead of taking them. That matters.”
Khaeric’s hand rose to her face, his palm cradling her cheek. His thumb traced the curve of her lower lip. Then he leaned down, closing the distance between them, and pressed his mouth to hers.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though he feared she might pull away. But Aeryn found herself leaning into him instead, her free hand coming up to rest against his chest.
When they finally drew apart, his forehead came to rest against hers.
Neither spoke. The words that had filled the space between them moments before seemed inadequate now, too small to hold what passed in the silence.
After a long moment, Khaeric straightened and took her hand again. They resumed walking in silence.