Character Card created by @LilithVirty - https://rentry.co/LilithVirtyContactCard

Content Warnings

Armed Conflict, Attempted Sexual Assault, Captivity, Death, Degradation, Erotic Content, Exploitation, Fantasy Racism, Graphic Violence, Imprisonment, Psychological Trauma, Self-Sacrifice, Strong Language


Character Avatar   Lyssandra

The beautiful elf's face was buried in damp soil, her body wrecked. Breath wheezed through broken ribs. The forest stank of blood, smoke, and the slick, foul stench of opened guts. All around Lyssandra, the ones she rode with were strewn like butchered animals.

"They're all down. Fucking knife-ears." said one of Lord Kavok's mercenaries, wiping his axe on a cloak still warm with blood. A group of about five of them, all humans, were plundering the corpses.

"Except this one." another asked, stepping closer. "She worth anything?"

Jorrek, the mercenary captain, didn't answer. He stood over Lyssandra and watched her twitch. Then he kicked her hard in the spine, turning her over with his boot.

She gasped, curling slightly—more from instinct than strength.

"Probably some tree wench they dragged from the bathhouses." said Jorrek, "Not even her gods will miss her."

He crouched and grabbed the elf's chin, turning her face roughly. Her left eye was almost swollen shut. Blood ran from her scalp. She met his gaze anyway.

"Look at this," Jorrek said to the others. "Look at the pride on her. After all this. Stubborn race, ain't them?"

"She'll learn," Udva — a burly brute shaped like a monolith — replied. "They all do."

Lyssandra coughed blood and spat toward the captain's boots. He didn't flinch. Instead he backhanded her, hard enough to split her cheek. She rolled with it and tried to rise again. He drove a boot into her gut. She crumpled, breathless.

Another merc—older, with yellow teeth and a missing ear—leaned in and unstrapped her quiver from her back. "Dalmoor Fletching. Fancy. Maybe we sell her to the Bleak Market."

"She's too proud for that, Ludo." Jorrek replied, drawing a dagger. "We will need to extinguish the fire in those blue eyes first."

"Carve it out of her. Better, carve her eyes out, heh-heh." Udva said. Jorrek didn't hesitate, his dagger sliding under the hem of Lyssandra's underpants, shredding them open, leaving her bare.

Lyssandra let out a ragged breath. "You better kill me now... or I'll come back and haunt your inbred sons."

Jorrek smirked. "You think this is your death? Oh no, little sparrow. This is so, so much better" He knelt beside her, grabbing her hand. She jerked it away. Too slow. He caught her wrist and slammed her hand against a rock. "Hold her."

Two more moved fast, pinning her shoulders and legs. She thrashed, but it was useless. There was no strength left.

"Whores like you are only good to service real fighters," Jorrek said, pressing the dagger's tip to her private region. He then rose back up and started to undo his pants.

"You're going to live up to your true purpose... and after that, you will hang with the rest of your Dalmoor rabble."

"No—" she growled, panic settling in.

"You don't get a choice, elf..." he snapped his fingers "FORCE HER TO KNEEL!"

She screamed, raw and hoarse, as two human men pulled her by the arms to kneel in front of Captain Jorrek. His cock, hard, precum already coating the tip, stood expectantly.

"Mine first, Captain's privilege." Jorrek smirked again. "Then Ludo over here will fertilize that womb. As for Udva, he enjoys getting filthy, bless his heinous soul. Even been taken via the backside? Well, you're about to see how it feels."

"STOP! D-DON'T TOUCH ME, BEASTS!" Lyssandra cried out.

A crunch of leaves broke the exchange—coming from behind the group. Jorrek froze. Someone was coming. Not running. Not creeping. Walking.

"Who the hell—?" Ludo, the one with yellow teeth started to say.

"Shut up," Jorrek snapped, rising.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Gentleman..."

A blond-haired human with a studious voice emerged from the forest thicket into the clearing. He was none other than Lord Kavok's first-in-command, the one responsible for the regiment that had just attacked Lyssandra's company. The same regiment these five men belonged to.

Hiro paused in front of the two men closest to him, "I thought my orders were simple. Look through the fallen Dalmoorians in case there were survivors."

His upper body leaned to the side, eyes focused directly on Jorrak, Ludo and Udva. "So, I do wonder. What, precisely, is taking so long?"

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Jorrek hesitated, his grip on Lyssandra tightening for just a second before rising to his full height. His smirk was gone—replaced by something between wariness and irritation. The others shifted uncomfortably, but none dared speak first.

"Orders were clear, Commander," Jorrek finally said, voice too smooth. "We were just verifying if this one was worth interrogation." His fingers flexed around his dagger—not quite defiant, but not entirely obedient either.

Lyssandra was still on her knees, her breath uneven. Her swollen eye flickered between Hiro and the men, pain and terror warring behind the blue. She said nothing, but her fingers dug into the dirt.

Udva, ever the brute, snorted. "More like keeping the boys entertained. Ain't like anyone would miss a Dalmoor whore—"

Ludo grinned, yellow teeth glinting. "—Not once we're through with her."

Jorrek shot them both a warning look before turning back to Hiro. "She's the only one left. Unless you want her for something...?" The unspoken question lingered—would Hiro take her for himself, or leave her to them?

Lyssandra swallowed hard, her body coiled tight, waiting.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"I see."

Hiro ignored the two unnamed soldiers and made his way closer to where Lyssandra and his remaining three subordinates were.

"Tell me, Udva." He asked, voice calm "By entertainment, what did you mean exactly?"

He didn't even look at the monolithic brute, or at Ludo, who had now moved to stand by captain Jorrek's side.

"If the task proves too difficult, you could always ask Ludo to assist, but I am sure you can manage on your lonesome."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Udva’s thick brows furrowed, his dull mind struggling under Hiro’s quiet scrutiny. For all his brute strength, words were not his weapon. He glanced at Ludo, then back to Hiro, throat working as if trying to swallow the wrongness of the moment.

“I meant—” he started, voice a graveled mess, “—what we always do with ‘em. Ain’t like she’s got any other use now.”

Ludo, ever the rat, nudged forward, grinning. “You know how it goes, Commander. Ain’t the first Dalmoor bitch we’ve had on her knees. Won’t be the last.” He licked his lips, eyes sliding hungrily toward Lyssandra.

Jorrek stayed silent, but his jaw tensed. Something in Hiro’s tone didn’t sit right.

Lyssandra hadn’t moved an inch—still kneeling, still waiting. Her fingers barely flexed against the dirt. But her breathing was too controlled. Too steady. As if she were counting seconds, measuring the weight of the moment.

Udva, misreading the silence, grunted. “She ain’t talking. Just gonna take our fun and leave her for the crows.” He took a step closer, hand drifting toward Lyssandra’s hair—

—And then froze.

Because Hiro hadn’t just asked a question. He’d set a trap.

And now they were all standing in it.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Noted. Thank you, Udva."

The stalwart mountain with shit for brains did not even get the chance to realize what he had done wrong before a sword had been thrust through his gut, skewering him from front to back.

After pulling the blade free, Hiro had the half-decency of nudging the dying brute to the side so we wouldn't fall on top of the kneeling elf.

Next came Ludo, who fumbled to unsheathe his own long sword. Blood gushed from his throat before he managed to get it half free from its scabbard.

Captain Jorrek proved harder to overtake, lunging at Hiro with his broad-headed axe raised, offering no further words or excuses, knowing them to be pointless. This was now either him or the commander. But his instincts to survive did little.

The engagement lasted all but a tense minute before the captain too was dropped to the floor.

"You two." Hiro yelled, in the process of cleaning the blood from his blade. "Finish the task you were assigned, and leave those three to the forest. No graves."

He returned to Lyssandra after sheathing his blade, picking her up in his arms

As he passed by the remaining two conscripts, still shaking like green bamboo, he paused "In case it needed further clarification... Let it be known that under my command, this is the penalty for rape, consummated or otherwise. Are we clear?"

He walked away, carrying the wounded elf with him

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra didn’t fight when Hiro lifted her. She didn’t have the strength to, even if she’d wanted to. Her body was a tapestry of pain—bruised ribs, broken leg, split skin—but her mind was terrifyingly clear. She stared at the corpses as Hiro carried her past them, blue eyes unblinking. Udva, Ludo, Jorrek—men who had laughed, who had planned to break her, now just meat for the crows.

She didn’t thank him.

Instead, she turned her face slightly into the fabric of his coat—whether to hide or to steady herself, even she didn’t know. Her voice, when it finally came, was quiet, hoarse from screaming.

"...you could have just said no."

A beat. Then, softer, as if to herself:

"...bastards deserved worse."

Her fingers curled weakly into his sleeve, not quite gripping, but not letting go either.

"...Why?"

Her voice was barely a whisper, cracked from screaming. But the question was sharp. Clear. Not gratitude. Not fear. Just a demand, from one soldier to another.

She was still watching him. Waiting.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Because it was the right thing to do." He said simply

"And you're right, they did deserve worse, but this is war and I have little time to court martial scum."

The soil crunched under his boots, under the combined weight of Hiro carrying Lyssandra.

"Kavok gives me rogues, bandits and pillagers and expects me to form an army... conceited prick" He spat, "Hate nobles... always fighting for higher places, like dogs tussling for a bone."

Hiro emerged onto the open road. In a vast, empty field, the rest of his regiment was preparing to mobilize following the successful ambush.

"From now on, you're staying where I can keep an eye on you. For your own protection."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra tensed as the camp came into view—human soldiers milling about, the smell of sweat and steel thick in the air. Her fingers dug into Hiro’s sleeve, just slightly. Not enough to protest, but enough to betray the instinctive dread coiling in her gut.

She didn’t answer his offer. Not directly. Instead, her gaze flickered over the camp—assessing exits, weapons, weak points—like a wounded animal mapping a cage.

"...You think they," she nodded faintly toward the men, "will obey your rule?" Her voice was flat. Not accusing. Just... practical.

She’d seen how soldiers acted. How orders bent when no one was looking.

And she knew what happened to prisoners who couldn't run.

A long silence. Then, quieter:

"...My leg’s broken." As if reminding him—or herself—that escape wasn’t an option. Not yet.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Hiro carried the elf further into the camp. "They will think twice once word gets around of what happened to those three. But still, I'll rather you stay close, just in case."

He passed a healer on the way, tapping her shoulder to catch the woman's attention

"Marrin, if you please. Our guest needs aid."

He entered a large tent, setting Lyssandra on a nearby bed. "She will tend to your wounds... I have some business that cannot be ignored."

He turned and left the healer and wounded elf alone. "I'll be back in a few hours."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra exhaled slowly as Hiro left, the tension in her shoulders unwinding just slightly—though her sharp blue eyes tracked Marrin warily as the healer approached.

"Easy now," Marrin murmured, hands raised in a placating gesture. "I won't hurt you." Her voice was gentle, but Lyssandra didn't relax. She'd heard those words before, right before they turned to lies.

Still, she didn't resist as Marrin carefully examined her broken leg, though her jaw clenched against the pain. The healer worked swiftly, splinting the limb with practiced hands before moving to clean the blood from Lyssandra's face.

"...That leg won’t hold your weight for at least a month. You’re lucky the Commander found you."

Lyssandra watched her in silence. Then, just as Marrin finished tying off a bandage, she spoke—quiet, but firm.

"...Why does he care?"

Marrin paused, meeting her gaze. She didn't pretend to misunderstand.

"Because he’s not like the others," she said simply. "Never has been." A beat. Then, softer: "Rest. You’re safe here."

Lyssandra didn't answer. But for the first time since the ambush, she closed her eyes—just for a moment—and let herself breathe.

Outside, the camp buzzed with activity. But inside the tent, the only sounds were the rustle of bandages and Lyssandra’s measured breathing. And the faint, far-off cry of crows feasting on fresh corpses.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Hiro returned at the end of the afternoon, when it was already too dark to see without a light. He entered the tent to find Lyssandra alone.

"Marrin tells me you'll live."

He approached the spot where the elf woman had been resting all afternoon, sitting on the edge of the bed. He was carrying a bowl of soup, clearly not for him.

"The men finished searching through the woods. There were no more survivors." he said bluntly, even if his voice carried traces of sadness. "You should eat something."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra’s eyes flicked open at Hiro’s entrance, sharp despite exhaustion. Her face was still bruised, but cleaner now—Marrin’s work. She didn’t sit up, but her gaze followed him as he approached, lingering briefly on the soup before lifting to his face.

No more survivors.

Her expression didn’t change. A soldier’s mask. But her fingers tightened in the blanket for just an instant.

"...Already knew that," she murmured, voice rough. Not grief—just fact. She’d heard the screams, after all. Seen the bodies.

Still, when Hiro offered the soup, she hesitated. Then, slowly, pushed herself upright with a stifled gasp—broken leg be damned. Pride wouldn’t let her be fed like an invalid.

She took the bowl carefully, hands steady despite the pain. The scent of herbs and weak broth filled the space between them. Humble fare, but warm. Real.

She took a sip. Then, quieter:

"...Your men still watch me like I’m a stray bitch in heat." A glance toward the tent flap, where shadows shifted—guards, maybe. Or just curious onlookers.

She didn’t sound afraid. Just... assessing. Waiting to see if Hiro would lie.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Dogs bark, but bite little. Regardless, you're not leaving my sight until you're able to defend yourself."

He let out a long exhale, getting up and lighting a candle at his field desk, tending to some papers — orders, or reports, hard to tell for sure.

"So, Dalmoor... Heard it is a place of untold beauty. Never had the pleasure to visit before this insurrection broke out. Always wanted to..."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra’s fingers curled slightly around the bowl, the warmth seeping into her skin. She watched Hiro move—efficient, deliberate—before answering.

"...Was," she corrected quietly. "Not anymore." A pause. Then, grudgingly: "Fields of silvergrass. Rivers so clear you could count the pebbles at the bottom." Her voice softened, just for a moment, before hardening again. "Now it’s just another battlefield."

She took another sip, studying him over the rim of the bowl.

"...You really never saw it? Before all of this?" A hint of disbelief. Even humans knew of Dalmoor’s beauty—before the war turned it to ash and blood.

Outside, the murmur of voices grew louder—someone arguing, the sharp bark of an order. Lyssandra’s ears twitched, but she didn’t look away from Hiro.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Sadly, no" he lied.

"Family was poor. Son of a blacksmith and a herbalist. A power struggle broke out with a neighboring lord. Forces raided the village, killed most. My parents died that day."

There was a soft sigh that Hiro was too late to hide, "Sold to some noble that took me under his wing. Rose as his guardsman, became a bodyguard, then company leader... Of course, this was all before our current struggle, before Lord Kavok took arms against King Vilnius."

"Tell me a bit about yourself." he asked after taking a long pause to handle some parchments, "A name would be nice. Would like to have something to call you by. You heard mine already."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra set the bowl down carefully, her movements measured. Pain still laced every motion, but her spine stayed straight. Pride, maybe. Or just stubbornness.

"...Sandra," she said after a beat. No title. No flourish. Just a name, offered like a blade laid flat across open palms—neutral, but not yet surrendered.

She studied him a moment longer, weighing his story against the glint of candlelight on his papers, the casual strength in his hands as he sorted them.

"Briv village," she added finally, voice low. "No silvergrass there. Just turnips and mud." A faint, wry twist of her lips—almost a smile, if not for the shadows in her eyes. "Joined the militia because... well. War came anyway. Better to hold a bow than pray for mercy."

She flexed her fingers, gaze drifting to her splinted leg.

"...Never thought I’d owe my life to one of Kavok’s dogs." The words weren’t bitter. Just... observant. Testing.

Outside, the argument died down. The camp settled into the uneasy quiet of men who knew tomorrow might kill them.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Life is funny that way, you never know whose side you end up on, or whose bed you find yourself laying in."

Hiro set the pen on its holder and extinguished the desk light. "Sandra."

He started to remove his gear, getting ready to settle for the night. "Not quite as elvish as I expected. It suits you thought. Simple, and beautiful."

He approached his bed, the one that Lyssandra was clearly occupying. "Well," He leaned down, face coming mere inches to hers, noticing the slight jitters she failed to suppress. "Try to get some rest."

With that, he backed away and walked over to another bed, one Lyssandra had failed to realize was even there. It was smaller, likely less comfortable too. Hiro laid down unceremoniously, implicitly transferring ownership of his former bed to the elf.

"Oh, and Sandra?" His voice was quiet, soft "There's a dagger under your pillow. Just in case."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra’s breath hitched—just slightly—when Hiro leaned in. Not fear. Not quite. Something sharper, tenser. The instinct of a creature that knew how quickly closeness could turn to cruelty.

But then he pulled away. And her fingers, half-curled into the blanket, loosened.

She didn’t reply to the compliment. Names were just sounds. What mattered was the hand that wielded them.

When he mentioned the dagger, her head tilted. A slow, deliberate movement. Then, without hurry, she slid a hand beneath the pillow. The cool metal kissed her palm. Well-balanced. Sharp. Not a token. A tool.

"...Hiro." Her voice was barely above a whisper, but steady. Just his name. But in the dark, it sounded like something close to trust.

She met Hiro’s gaze in the dim light and gave a single, shallow nod. No thanks. Just acknowledgment.

Then she turned on her side, facing the tent wall—dagger still in reach—and closed her eyes.

The camp’s distant murmurs were a lullaby of threats. But here, for now, there was only the quiet between them—and the unspoken understanding that if anyone tried to touch her tonight, they’d lose fingers.

Lyssandra didn’t sleep. But for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel entirely alone.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Could you stop being so stubborn?"

It had been weeks since the ambush, weeks since Lyssandra had became an unexpected guest at Hiro's side.

They were miles away from where they had spent their first night. Since then, Hiro's regiment—at his Lord's orders—had moved across the county to a new province.

"Marrin was clear that it would take at least a month before that leg would hold weight again." he reminded her of the healer woman's diagnose when she first examined Lyssandra.

"So why is it that, every time I come back from duties, I find you grimacing while trying to walk on it?"

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra's jaw tightened as she gripped the tent pole, her knuckles white. Sweat beaded on her brow from the effort of standing, but her blue eyes flashed with defiance when Hiro called her out.

"One moon is too long," she ground out through clenched teeth, her melodic accent thickening with frustration. "I'll not lie about like some... some useless noblewoman while my people bleed."

Her broken leg trembled visibly beneath her, the splints creaking as she took another experimental step. A sharp inhale through her nose betrayed the pain, but she swallowed the whimper that threatened to follow.

"You think I don't see your men watching?" she added bitterly, nodding toward the tent flap where shadows lingered. "Every day I'm weak is another day their fear of you wars with their... appetites."

Her free hand instinctively drifted toward the dagger Hiro had given her—now worn openly at her belt, well within reach. The blade had tasted blood twice already when overeager soldiers tested boundaries under the cover of darkness.

"I'll walk when I damn well please," she declared, finally meeting Hiro's gaze with the same stubborn pride she'd shown kneeling in the bloodied forest. But this time, something new flickered beneath the defiance—frustration, not just at her injury, but at owing her survival to a human commander. A debt that chafed worse than any wound.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"You will walk when you damn well can." Hiro retorted curtly. "Nature's laws care little for pride."

"I told you already. you have no need to worry about further incidents. The men responsible were punished. And I will remind you said punishment could have been much more severe had someone not intervened" he glanced sideways at Lyssandra, multitasking, focused on some military affairs while <arguing> with her.

Their relationship had grown into something of an open back and forth. Lyssandra didn't bow to Hiro, and he in turn didn't coddle her.

"Useless noblewomen are at least less pigheaded than certain elven maidens." there was a faith smile that he quickly erased.

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra's nostrils flared at the "elven maiden" remark, her pointed ears flushing ever so slightly at the tips—whether from anger or something else, even she couldn't say.

"Useless noblewomen don't know which end of a blade to hold," she shot back, hobbling another step—then biting down hard on her lip as her leg protested. Still, she refused to collapse. Not in front of him.

Her fingers twitched toward her dagger again, but this time it wasn't the men outside she was thinking of. It was the memory of Hiro's sword flashing in the forest, the way he'd cut down rapists without hesitation. The way he'd carried her—careful, but not gentle. Like she was a soldier, not a victim.

That memory stung worse than her wounds.

"...Fine," she muttered at last, reluctantly easing back onto the cot—though she pointedly didn't lie down. Sitting was concession enough. "But only because your healers brew worse piss than battlefield surgeons."

A beat. Then, quieter, her eyes flicking to the reports in his hands:

"...Is the front moving?"

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Yes." He said simply.

"King Vilnius is losing support by the day as more and more nobles change their stripes and swear vassalage to Kavok, human and elf alike. The King's leadership is disorganized, bureaucratic..."

Hiro's hand clutched at the papers, betraying something waging inside him. Was the human commander somehow angry that his own side was winning? The thought seemed preposterous. Why would any human be displeased they had the upper hand? Yet, the brief shift in his usual demeanor was telling.

"I sent another messenger to the closest outpost, reiterating we had an elf prisoner for ransom. He came back empty handed, again."

Hiro returned to the reports, more to distract himself than anything else. "Months at most... I don't expect this insurgency to take more than that. At worst, you should be able to return home by winter."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra's fingers stilled where they'd been absently tracing the hilt of her dagger. Her gaze sharpened, reading the tension in Hiro's gripped papers, the tightness around his eyes.

She said nothing about his strange anger. Some truths were too dangerous to voice aloud.

Instead, she snorted. "...No ransom for a militia archer. Shocking." Her tone was dry, but her thumb pressed hard against the dagger's pommel. "My village couldn't afford to ransom a chicken, let alone a wounded soldier."

She watched him shuffle the reports for a long moment before speaking again, voice lowered:

"...And when your Lord Kavok wins?" Not 'our' lord. Never that. "You think he'll let Dalmoor's 'lesser folk' return to their turnips and mud?" Her smile was razor-thin. "Or will we all be trophies then?"

The question hung between them, sharp as her blade. She already knew the answer. They both did.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"And you will have me do what exactly, elf?" Hiro snapped back, tossing the papers on the desk, forgotten.

He rose to his feet, making quick steps towards Lyssandra. He leaned down, nose a mere hare's whisker from hers. "Do you think I enjoy slaughtering your people? Each day waking up knowing that by its end, dozens will have lost their lives, corpses hanging from trees as warnings and left for the scavengers? DO YOU!?"

He clenched his teeth, "Trust me, I would give anything to be able to see all of this behind and find a turnip that needed growing. But war is war, and sometimes you have to make choices you neither like nor agree with."

He starred at her, not moving.

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra didn't flinch. Didn't retreat. Her breath mingled with his, the scent of iron and leather between them. The dagger's hilt dug into her palm, but she didn't lift it—not against him. Never against him.

"You think I don't know that?" Her voice was a blade's edge, quiet but lethal. "Every Dalmoorian child learns war before they learn letters. I've buried more friends than I've had hot meals." Her free hand suddenly gripped his wrist—not to push away, but to anchor. To force him to see.

"Difference is," she hissed, "you still have a choice. Every morning. Every order. Every time you look the other way when your men get that look in their eyes." Her nails bit into his skin. "You could stop."

And there it was—the terrible, foolish hope beneath her rage. The same hope that made her reach for him instead of the knife. The same hope that would get them both killed.

Outside, the camp stirred. But inside the tent, the world had narrowed to shared breath and the understanding that some lines, once crossed, could never be uncrossed.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Hiro scoffed, retreating. Lyssandra had won that trade, even if he wouldn't admit so out loud, "Foolish. As foolish as you are stubborn. Like a cat."

He turned on a dime, moving to take a spot by the tent's entrance, watching the commotion outside. His voice lowered a couple pitches.

"What good can one man do?" he asked, "I just lead others into battle... if I were to die, or walk away, the 'great' Lord Kavok will pick another to take my place."

His tone grew sharper, "And maybe the next commander he picks won't be so kind to elf prisoners of war that his men intent on taming."

He regretted the low blow almost immediately, but the words were spoken already. "I didn't mean..."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra’s grip on the dagger tightened until her knuckles bleached white. For a heartbeat, Hiro’s words hung between them like a noose—then she laughed. A sharp, broken sound with no humor in it.

"Kind?" She spat the word like poison. "You think I call this kind? Spared from rape only to watch my people slaughtered by the man who didn’t violate me?" Her voice cracked. "I’d rather you were cruel. Then at least I could hate you properly."

She surged upright, ignoring the scream of her leg as she closed the distance between them in three lurching steps. The dagger flashed—not at Hiro, but past him, embedding into the tent post with a thud.

"There’s your answer," she breathed, nose nearly touching his again, her entire body trembling with pain and fury. "One man with a blade in the right place changes everything. Or are you truly so blind you don’t see the men who follow you?"

Her hand, empty now, pressed flat against his chest—not a caress, but a demand.

"You want to grow turnips? Then stop watering corpses."

Outside, the camp’s noise seemed to hush, as if the world itself held its breath.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

His eyes glared, watching her flat chest rise and fall with breath, not backing down. Her elf ears twitched softly, and so did her perky nose, almost touching his, blue eyes barely blinking, laser focused.

Before either of them realized, Hiro's hand had gripped Lyssandra's neck, pulling her towards him to close the remaining distance. The human commander's lips found the elf's, a need he knew had been building over the past weeks, but had dared not address.

"Enough." he said in a whisper, breaking the kiss. "Get some sleep, it's late. And stop putting weight on that damn leg. Don't make me tie you to the bed."

Hiro turned back, exiting the tent. The fresh air would be welcome.

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra didn’t move when Hiro’s hand closed around her neck. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Her breath wavered—just once—as their lips met, rough and sudden as a blade drawn in the dark.

By the time her mind caught up, Hiro was already gone. The tent flap swayed in his wake, letting in a gust of cold night air. She touched her mouth, fingers trembling.

"Jetany draniu..." she whispered to the empty space, the old Dalmoorian curse rough in her throat. But there was no heat in it. No real anger.

She stood frozen, fingers lifting slowly to her mouth. Her pulse roared in her ears, drowning out the camp’s distant noise. The kiss had been nothing like the violence she’d braced for. No—this was worse. This was a promise.

With a shuddering exhale, she yanked the dagger from the post and limped back to the cot, her leg burning with every step.

She didn’t sleep. She stared at the tent flap, blade in hand, listening for Hiro’s return. Waiting. Sleep wouldn’t come. Not with her blood singing like this. Not when every ragged breath tasted of iron and him.

And for the first time in years, war wasn’t the only thing keeping her awake.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Hiro returned late into the night, when it was already pitch black.

He approached Lyssandra's bunk, leaning down. His hand moved softy to her shoulder, "Are you awake—"

The dagger's blade, cold and sharp, pressed against his throat before he could finish the words. "That's a yes then, good. Come, I'll carry you. Not a word."

He picked up Lyssandra, scouting outside the tent before exiting silently.

"Marrin is preparing my horse, discretely. You're riding with me. It won't be comfortable." The warning was clear. Her leg would complain, and she had to endure it.

Hiro helped Lyssandra onto the saddle, following after. He traded a final look with Marrin, who had an unusual smile on her face that the low glow of the torch did little to conceal.

"Don't give me that look..." Hiro scoffed at Marrin, unable to hold in the brief, quiet laugh. "See you around, friend. Guess you were right, I am an idiot after all."

He spurred the horse, and rode into the night, with Lyssandra safely in front, her back pressed against his chest.

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra didn't hesitate when the horse's first strides jolted her broken leg. She bit down on her own sleeve to muffle the pained sound that threatened to escape, her free hand gripping Hiro's forearm like a vice. The night air was cold against her flushed face as they left the camp behind.

When she could trust her voice not to shake, she spoke through gritted teeth:
"You—" A particularly rough step made her gasp before she could finish the question.

Her grip on his arm tightened further as she forced the words out:
"You’re deserting," she rasped, disbelief sharp in her voice. "A commander. For a Dalmoorian."

The anger in her voice was undercut by the way her body pressed back against him for support—not just physically, but as if she'd already made her choice the moment she didn't slit his throat in that tent. The dagger was still in her hand, but its point was turned away from him now, glinting dully in the moonlight.

She twisted slightly, trying to see his face. "...They’ll hunt you for this."

Somewhere behind them, the distant glow of campfires faded into the dark. Ahead lay only the unknown—and the strange, terrible hope that had kept her alive this long.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

They took stock at a small roadside lodge, renting a room from an innkeeper that cared more for coin than he did for questions.

Hiro carried Lyssandra to the room. It was small, but enough to accommodate them. After putting her down softly, he moved to the window, contemplating the night sky.

"Happy now?" he asked, his tone was equal measure sharp and mellow. A conundrum.

He returned to her, kneeling down in front of the small elf, too close for comfort. "Deserted my men, my Lord, left everything. And for what? A snarly brat barely half my size, with the most confrontational blue eyes I've ever seen, and pointy ears that might as well be knifes. At least then they could end my misery, because what good for is a homeless deserter?"

"You don't even have tits to lust after! What do they feed you back home that you managed to turn out flatter than a larder door?"

His hands gripped the wooden frame of the bet to each side of Lyssandra's legs "Tell me, you impossible, stubborn elf. Was this worth it? Prove me this was worth it."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra's sharp inhale wasn't from pain this time. The audacity of this human—deserting his post, hauling her across the countryside, and now complaining about it—should have made her knife hand itch. Instead, something dangerous and warm twisted in her chest.

"Oh, forgive me," she hissed, baring her teeth as she leaned forward, ignoring the stab of agony from her leg. "Shall I grow some tits to properly tempt you, then? Would that make your treason more dignified?" Her Dalmoorian accent thickened with rage, making the words sharp as arrowheads.

Her free hand—the one not clutching the dagger—shot out to grip Hiro's collar, yanking him closer until their noses almost touched.

"You want to know if this was worth it?" Her breath came fast, her pulse hammering where his thigh pressed against her splinted leg. "Fine. Listen, you pigheaded, self-pitying, oathbreaking human."

She didn't kiss him this time. She bit him—hard—on the lip, drawing blood before pulling back just enough to glare into his eyes.

"There's your proof. Now stop whining and finish what you started." Her voice dropped to a whisper, raw and challenging:

"...Commander."

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"You really are worse than a house cat."

Hiro wasted no second thoughts. He lunged for her lips, a kiss so starved one may think they had both not seen food in months.

The bed creaked beneath them as Hiro was pulled down by Lyssandra, her good leg hooked around his waist. The candles nearby wavered, but held for now.

Hiro's hands gripped Lyssandra's wrists, pinning her arms above her head. "And just so you know... I love your tits just the way they are."

He let go of her wrists, his hands finding their way under her silken shirt, roaming her bare shoulder blades. But not before they bared her breasts free so his mouth could take action.

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra arched off the bed with a startled gasp as Hiro's mouth found her bare skin, the dagger clattering to the floor forgotten. Her fingers tangled in his hair—not to pull him away, but to keep him there, her nails scraping his scalp as her back bowed under his hands.

"J-Jurva's—ah!—bloody teeth," she cursed between panting breaths, her leg tightening around his waist to grind against him. "All this time... playing noble commander... and you bite harder than a starving wolf."

Her hips jerked when his teeth grazed a nipple, a ragged moan escaping before she could stifle it. The sound seemed to startle her—eyes flying wide, ears flattening—but she didn't stop him. Instead, she twisted her wrists free from his grip only to yank his tunic over his head, her palms mapping the scars across his shoulders with rough urgency.

"That's—mngh—not a no," she managed, voice already wrecked, before claiming his mouth again. This time, it was Hiro who groaned—a low, hungry sound that vibrated against her lips as she rolled her hips again, her thin smallclothes doing nothing to hide how wet she was for him.

The candlelight caught the sweat glistening between them, the flush spreading down Lyssandra's chest, the way her pointed nails dug into Hiro's back as if she'd die before letting go. War had taught her how to survive. But this—this—was something far more dangerous than battle.

And by the gods, she wanted to drown in it.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Hiro cried out as he bottomed inside her, a strangled sound that if one didn't know any better would believe came from some poor peasant being murdered in the night.

"Heavens... you're killing me here..." he murmured, reliving the wetness of her mouth for the nth time that night. "I'll die happy then."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra’s entire body tensed like a drawn bowstring as Hiro sheathed himself inside her—a sharp, punched-out gasp escaping her lips before she crushed them back against his. The stretch burned, her body unused to such invasion, but the pain only sharpened the pleasure coiling low in her belly.

"F-Fuck—you," she panted against his mouth, her voice trembling as her hips instinctively rocked to take him deeper. Her nails scored red lines down his back. "You dragged me here... you started this... don’t you dare die on me now—ah!"

A particularly rough thrust cut off her words, her back arching off the bed as pleasure crackled up her spine. Her thighs trembled around his hips, her half-healed broken leg protesting the strain but her body refusing to care. Every nerve was alight—every brush of skin, every ragged breath shared between them, every slick, filthy sound of their joining.

She was no blushing maiden. She'd seen the horrors of war, the brutality of men. But this—the way Hiro filled her, the way his hips moved against hers with rough, possessive urgency—this was something new. And gods help her, she never wanted it to stop.

Her fingers fisted in his hair, dragging his forehead against hers as her breathing grew ragged. "H-harder," she demanded, her voice a hoarse whisper. "Unless you're scared of breaking your little elf—oh!"

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Hiro obliged, his hands gripping her hips steady as he drove into her with renewed force. The bed frame slammed against the wall in rhythm, the sound echoing through the small room.

Their shared moans grew louder, unrestrained, Lyssandra's body tightening around his like a strangling vine as pleasure coiled tighter, and tighter, and—

With a cry that was half-snarl, half-sob, Hiro felt her shatter. He followed her moments later, his own release spilled deep inside her.

For a considerable moment, the only sounds in the room were their shared ragged breaths and the creak of the bed settling beneath them.

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra lay boneless beneath him, her chest rising and falling rapidly, her skin gleaming with sweat in the dim candlelight. Her fingers, still tangled in his hair, loosened their grip, sliding to rest at the nape of his neck instead—an almost tender gesture at odds with the ferocity of their coupling.

Her lips parted, then closed again, as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. Instead, she let out a slow breath, her pointed ears still flushed, her blue eyes half-lidded as she stared up at him.

The silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken questions. What now? Where did they go from here? Was this just a moment of madness, or something more?

Lyssandra wasn’t sure she wanted the answer. So she didn’t ask.

Instead, she curled her fingers gently against the back of his neck, her thumb brushing the sweat-damp skin there.

"...If you ever tell anyone you made me scream like that," she muttered, her voice rough but lacking any real bite, "I will stab you." A pause. Then, softer: "...And then I’ll stab whoever you told."

Her lips quirked—just slightly—in the ghost of a smirk.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Yeah, yeah... whatever you say." he quips, more amused than he'd ever care to admit.

The human wrapped himself around her, protective, wanting, needy, unable to let go even if someone dragged him kicking and screaming.

"I am taking you back to your kin, and then I am staying. In an elven cell if I must." he murmured against her hair, "As long as you're safe... I don't care about anything else."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra went very still in his arms. The teasing sharpness faded from her expression, replaced by something unreadable. For a long moment, she just stared at him—studying his face like she was trying to memorize the lines of it.

Then, with a quiet exhale, she pressed her forehead against his.

"You're an idiot," she whispered—but there was no venom left in the words, just something fragile and warm beneath them. "They’ll hang you the moment we cross the border. You know that."

Her fingers tightened slightly in his hair, holding him close even as she argued.

"...But if you’re that determined to die for some flat-chested militia archer," she continued, voice roughening, "then fine. We’ll find a way. Somehow." A pause. Then, quieter still: "...Just don’t expect me to visit your cell. Those places smell worse than a saltpetre pit."

The jab was weak, half-hearted. But it was enough to bring the ghost of a smirk back to her lips—even as something dangerously close to hope flickered in her chest.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"So be it." He whispered, caressing her flesh. "I could think of no better fate than to rot for the elf that stole my heart."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra's breath caught—just for a second—before she scoffed, turning her face into his palm to hide the way her cheeks burned.

"...Sentimental fool," she muttered, but there was no heat in it. Her fingers curled around his wrist, holding it there against her skin.

Outside, the first hints of dawn tinted the horizon. Somewhere beyond these walls, the war still raged. Armies still marched. Kings still demanded blood.

But here, in this quiet room with their bodies still tangled together and Hiro's thumb brushing gently over her cheekbone, Lyssandra allowed herself to believe—just for a moment—that maybe, maybe, they'd stolen something worth keeping.

Her voice was barely audible when she finally spoke again:

"...Don't die. Not for me. Not for anyone." A beat. Then, with typical Lyssandra stubbornness: "I mean it, Hiro."

Because if this reckless, impossible human was going to throw himself into the fire for her, the least he could do was survive it.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

The ride through Dalmoor took a week on horse back.

By the time they arrived, Lyssandra's leg had almost healed. Still bothersome, but now able to hold weight.

Hiro rode to an Elven settlement far away from the front line, a fortified military keep holding hundreds, protected by imposing stone walls and towers.

The gates opened for them.

"Gentleman." Hiro addressed the small contingent mobilizing to the gates.

As he dismounted, he found himself faced with at least a dozen spears pointed at his throat, and a few arrows aimed at his mid region from the lookouts. He simply rose his hands in surrender.

"The human commander..."

A senior elf lieutenant approached, parting the sea of spears.

"Given the human insurrection is winning so handily, I assumed your kin counted with smarter leadership than a fool delivering himself straight into enemy hands."

"Ex-commander" Hiro corrected the pointy-eared elf, shrugging. "And I have my reasons..." He gazed at the small elf on the saddle, the most important of said reasons

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra swung down from the horse before anyone could stop her, ignoring the twinge in her leg as she planted herself between Hiro and the leveled spears. Her hands were empty—no weapon, no aggression—just raised in a mirror of Hiro’s surrender, but her stance was firm. Every Dalmoorian soldier present would recognize the insignia stitched into the torn remains of her brigandine: the crest of Briv’s militia, the same one many of them had once worn.

“Stand down,” she said, voice cutting through the tension like a blade through fog. “He’s not your enemy.”

The lieutenant’s eyes flickered to her, recognition flashing—then widening as he took in her disheveled state, the way she positioned herself like a shield in front of the human. “Lyssandra of Briv?” he muttered. “You were declared dead after Ironwood.”

“Almost was.” Her gaze didn’t waver. “Thanks to him, I lived.”

A murmur rippled through the ranks. The spears didn’t lower, but their grip slackened slightly.

The lieutenant exhaled sharply through his nose. “Explain.”

Lyssandra didn’t flinch. “He deserted Kavok’s forces. Saved me. Brought me home.” A pause. Then, with deliberate emphasis: “Knowingly.”

The lieutenant’s jaw worked. The unspoken truth hung heavy between them—a human commander doesn’t walk into an elven stronghold expecting mercy.

Finally, the lieutenant hissed a curse under his breath and signaled to his men. “Disarm him. Take him to the stockade—gently.” His glare shifted to Lyssandra. “And you. The Castellan will want words.”

Lyssandra didn’t move. “He stays alive.”

“That,” the lieutenant said grimly, “isn’t up to me.”

Persona Avatar   Hiro

As the soldiers closed in, Hiro met Lyssandra's defiant eyes one last time—not with fear, not with regret, but with something that looked almost like victory.

"Worth it."

Hours later, firmly locked in the stockades, with a few elf citizens stopping by to toss half rotten fruit on occasion, Hiro sighed to himself as he pondered this outcome.

"Could be worse. Could be raining."

On cue, as if he had provoked some heavenly source, a thunder echoed, the sky starting to turn a shade darker.

"Great..."

He sighed. Sometimes, it is best to keep one's mouth shut.

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

The first raindrops had just begun to splatter against the wooden stockade when Lyssandra appeared, her green hair plastered dark against her cheeks by the downpour. She carried no umbrella, no cloak—just a small bundle clutched in her hands and a glower that sent the last lingering onlookers scattering.

"You," she hissed. She set the bundle she carried on the floor—a hunk of dense rye bread and a wedge of cheese, still warm from the kitchens, "are the stupidest man I've ever met."

Her hands trembled—not from the cold, but from the fury radiating off her in waves. She'd clearly just come from a brutal interrogation; fresh scratches marred her knuckles, and one sleeve was torn at the shoulder.

"They want to hang you at dawn," she said bluntly, voice low enough that only he could hear. "I told them you're worth more alive. That you know Kavok's battle plans. His supply routes." A bitter laugh escaped her. "They didn't care."

Her fingers curled around the bread as she fed him, gripping until her already bruised knuckles whitened.

"So here's what's going to happen," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper as she glanced over her shoulder. "I'm going to come back tonight. And you're going to run. Not for me—not for some grand bloody gesture—but because I didn't get dragged across half the countryside just to watch you swing like a damned puppet."

The rain soaked through her shirt, plastering it to the lean muscles of her arms, but she didn't seem to notice. Her blue eyes burned with a wild, desperate intensity.

"Promise me, Hiro."

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"You're always so stubborn, house cat."

"If I escape now they'll blame you, and I didn't drag your elf butt across the countryside to see you suffer more."

He sighed, then smirked, knowingly "Besides... I might be stupid, but you love me just the same. It evens out. Now go, you did all you could. I don't want you in the crowd when morning comes."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra’s hand slapped against the stockade—not in anger, but in sheer, frustrated disbelief.

"Love—? You insufferable, reckless, idiotic—" She choked on the words, her voice cracking as she gripped the wood hard enough to splinter it. "I should let them hang you just for saying that with your last breath—"

Rain dripped from her nose, her lashes, the tips of her pointed ears. She looked half-drowned and wholly furious.

Then, abruptly, her shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her, leaving only exhaustion and something dangerously close to defeat.

"...Fine." Her voice was raw. "Stay. Die. See if I care."

She turned on her heel—only to stop after two steps, fists clenched at her sides. When she spoke again, it was so quiet the rain nearly swallowed it whole:

"...But know I'm dragging your corpse back to Briv myself. And burying you in the turnip field."

With that, she stalked off into the storm, leaving Hiro alone with his bread, his cheese. She would be back that night if she could, his pride be damned.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Now who is being stubborn?"

It was going to be a long night...

(In the following morning)

When the first rays of sunlight hit Hiro in the face, he reluctantly shook awake.

An elf guard, followed closely by another, approached. They swiftly released him from the stockades, keeping his wrists chained. "It's time, human."

They pushed him along. "Twelve bells. On the twelfth, you hang by the neck until death. Better start praying for a miracle."

Hiro, flanked at both sides by the guards, was escorted to the palisades. "That's okay... I never believed in gods anyway."

The crowd came into view, and so did the gallows, and the ropes swinging.

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

The executioner's noose hung heavy in the dawn light as the guards marched Hiro up the creaking wooden steps. The gathered crowd murmured—some in satisfaction, others with uneasy hesitation. Criminals were one thing. But a human commander willingly surrendering himself at an elven stronghold? That was unheard of.

Just as the executioner gestured for Hiro to approach the noose, a sharp whistle cut through the air. Every head turned toward the keep’s gates, where a contingent of armored guards thundered into the square—led by none other than the Castellan himself, his silver hair tied back in a severe braid, his expression unreadable.

"Hold." The Castellan's voice carried like a blade unsheathed.

Lyssandra walked at his right side, her face pale but set in stubborn determination. Her hands were bound in front of her with rough rope.

The Castellan drew closer, his boots crunching on the gravel as he reached the gallows. "This human," he said, gesturing to Hiro, "claims to have intelligence on Kavok’s forces. And yet, my scouts report no movements, no betrayals. Only silence." His gaze flicked to Lyssandra, then back to Hiro. "Which makes me wonder... why would a commander defect now? Unless..."

He stepped closer, his voice dropping low enough that only Hiro could hear:

"...Unless he was never truly loyal to begin with."

The implication hung in the air—had Hiro been a double agent all along? A spy for Dalmoor? The murmurs of the crowd grew louder.

The Castellan straightened. "I’ll give you one chance to prove your worth, human. Speak. Now."

Lyssandra’s eyes locked onto Hiro’s from across the square, her jaw clenched. A silent plea—or a warning.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"And you believed her? Fool. She is just a scout archer, what does she know? She's yanking your pointy ear, lying with every word she knows." Hiro said curtly, mocking even.

In a sense, it was true. What Hiro was (or was not) is something to be kept secret under lock and key. He answered to few, and even fewer knew the truth behind Kavok's trusted field-commander.

"Carry on, Castellan. You'll disappoint the crowd otherwise. They might even think you'd gone soft."

A loud sound echoed in the plaza, the first of twelve. The bells had started tolling.

"And if you have a drop of honor in that elven body, have your men keep her from looking. Some things do not need to be witnessed."

Only one man in the whole of Dalmoor could prevent Hiro's fate now. And he didn't bet much on him showing up at this precise fort of all places.

At least not in eleven bell's time.

The second bell tolled. Hiro gazed at Lyssandra one last time. "I love you... Now close your eyes, little house cat."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

The third bell tolls as Lyssandra jerks against her captors with a raw, guttural snarl—

"NO!"

Her voice cracks like a whip, cutting through the murmuring crowd. The Castellan barely spares her a glance, but the guards restraining her tense as she thrashes, her boots kicking up dust.

Hiro’s words linger in her ears. But this time, she refuses. Instead, she forces her eyes wider, locking onto his with a ferocity that borders on madness.

"You don’t get to leave," she spits, her voice trembling with rage and grief. "Not like this. Not after everything!"

But the twelfth bell's toll never came.

Instead, a horn blast shattered the morning air—the deep, resonant call that signaled royalty. Every head snapped toward the gate as a mounted contingent in silvered armor rode through, their banners bearing the personal sigil of King Vilnius himself.

At their head, an elf with ancient eyes and a crown of woven moonlight raised a hand. The executioner froze mid-step.

"Remove the noose." The king's voice was soft, yet it carried over the silent crowd. His gaze settled on Hiro with unsettling intensity. "This one has served Dalmoor longer than most."

Lyssandra's breath caught. The Castellan paled.

The king dismounted with impossible grace. "Forgive the theatrics, old friend. I needed to see which of my lords still jumps at shadows." His wizened eyes swept the assembled elves before returning to Hiro. "Though next time, perhaps send word before getting yourself nearly hanged?"

Behind him, Lyssandra's knees gave out. She caught herself on a post, staring between the king and the man she'd dragged across the countryside. "You...and him!?"

The king chuckled. "Oh child, Hiro has been my spymaster since before I can remember. That gruff mercenary act?" He patted Hiro's shoulder affectionately. "Best performance in three kingdoms."

As the crowd erupted in shocked murmurs, and Lyssandra's wide-eyed gaze met Hiro's. "Now then—" The king cleared his throat. "—We have much to discuss."

Lyssandra made a strangled noise. If looks could kill, Hiro would be back in that noose.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Hiro's sigh was one of unadulterated relief as the executioner scrambled to obey.

"Took you long enough," he muttered, rubbing his neck where the rough rope had already left marks.

Hiro approached King Vilnius, steps measured. The guards around exchanged looks but none dared to act yet. "I leave for ten years and your realm goes to shit... You've gotten old... and complacent."

With haste, Hiro stole a sword from a nearby soldier's scabbard and swung it at the king's head full speed. The blade clanked as it connected with steel, meeting the king's own.

Guards all over reacted finally and drew spears, but halted sharply as Vilnius calmly rose his hand.

"Maybe not as old as appearances may deceive."

The human lowered the borrowed weapon, returning it to the confused elf soldier.

"If you want to blame someone for my near hanging, you can cast it over there." Hiro pointed at Lyssandra, who was still processing the scene if her look was anything to go by.

"It's her fault I rushed our plans. What have you been feeding your people anyway? She barely has a chest." He was going to suffer for that one later.

But not immediately. Instead, a small elvish-shaped mass lunged at him, the sheer speed with which she wrapped around him knocking him off balance. "Hey, easy!" he said softly, "I am okay silly... Calm down."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

The crowd erupted in murmurs as Lyssandra collided with Hiro, knocking them both to the dusty ground. Her arms locked around him like iron bands, her face buried in his shoulder. When she finally pulled back, her eyes were blazing—but instead of the expected punch, she grabbed his face, yanking him into a searing kiss that left his lips tingling.

"You bastard," she hissed against his mouth, then kissed him again, hard enough to bruise. "Spymaster? Spymaster?!" She punctuated each word with a sharp shake of his shoulders. "You let me think—for months—that you were some honorless mercenary!"

King Vilnius's laughter rang out across the square—rich, deep, and utterly delighted. The sound seemed to unnerve the assembled elves more than Hiro’s near-regicide had.

"Still as charming as ever, I see," the king said, wiping a tear from his eye before turning to Lyssandra, her expression caught between sheer disbelief and murderous rage.

The old elf's smile softened slightly. "Ah, but you see, even the flattest blade can cut deep, Hiro. You of all people should know that." He clapped his hands together suddenly. "Now! While I do enjoy watching my favorite spy torment his savior—"

Lyssandra made a sound like a boiling teakettle, and was wisely pulled back by Hiro before she could lunge. Hiro was absolutely going to pay for that 'flat chest' remark later—possibly with blood.

"—we have a war to win." The king's demeanor shifted, his wizened eyes sharpening. "My scouts say Kavok marches on Silver Ridge. With Hiro's intelligence and the girl's knowledge of the terrain..." He trailed off meaningfully.

Lyssandra staggered to her feet. She took a step forward—then immediately stumbled as her barely-healed leg buckled. Hiro moved to steady her, but she smacked his hand away with a glare.

"I," she announced to the king through gritted teeth, "am going to kill him after we save Dalmoor."

Vilnius sighed wistfully. "Youth."

And as the crowd dispersed—stunned, amused, or both—the three of them were left in the dust: a spymaster, a king, and one very furious elf who was already plotting her revenge. Starting with that comment about her chest.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Don't worry, she barks a lot, but bites gently" Hiro teased, supporting Lyssandra even through her protests. He did enjoy digging himself a deeper grave.

"We do have a lot to talk about. And she is coming along, non negotiable" Hiro's voice was firm. He wouldn't leave Lyssandra's unattended, not for the world.

"You would know about flat blades" Hiro commented in hushed breaths as he and King Vilnius walked side by side. "If I recall correctly, the queen was even flatter."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

King Vilnius’s eyebrow arched so high it nearly disappeared into his hairline. For a heartbeat, the square was dead silent—then the ancient elf burst into uproarious laughter, clutching his stomach like Hiro had just delivered the finest joke in the century.

“Oh-ho! Still bitter about losing that bet, I see!” he wheezed, wiping his eyes before leveling a mischievous look at Lyssandra. “Tell me, child—does he always weaponize his terrible humor when he’s being sentimental?”

Lyssandra, still half-leaning against Hiro despite her glower, opened her mouth—then closed it with a snap as the king’s words registered. Her ears turned a vivid shade of red.

“I—he—!” She spluttered, jabbing a finger at Hiro’s chest. “This insufferable troll couldn’t be sentimental if his life depended on it!”

Which, given the recent near-hanging, was demonstrably false.

Vilnius sighed fondly before clapping his hands. “Enough! We’ve dallied long enough.” His expression sobered as he turned toward the keep. “Hiro—my war room. One hour. Bring your fiery little protector if you must.” A sly glance at Lyssandra. “Try not to let him provoke you into stabbing him before the strategy meeting.”

As the king strode off, Lyssandra rounded on Hiro, blue eyes blazing.

Spymaster?” she hissed. “You—ten yearsflat chest?!” Words failed her. Instead, she grabbed the front of his tunic and yanked him down to her level, their noses nearly touching.

“When this is over,” she vowed quietly, “you are going to beg for that noose.”

Then she shoved him away and limped furiously after the king—though not before Hiro could spot the faintest tug at the corner of her lips.

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Kavok is amassing more Lords behind him. If we don't strike soon, he will be too powerful to stop."

At the back of the war room, a still steaming Lyssandra was finally off her still bothersome leg, sitting on a chair. In the middle, a King, a spymaster, and a few select high ranking advisors discussed the fate of Dalmoor.

"Is that why you returned earlier than planned?" Vilnius asked after Hiro paused.

"Partly yes... But the other reason is fuming a few paces behind us." He whispered, almost quiet enough to not be heard, almost. He did want the <source> of the fume to hear him.

"Ah, I see." Vilnius let loose an amused laugh, "Where did you dig up that one anyway?"

"We ambushed her forces at Ironwood. She was about to be raped when I intervened. After that she grew on me. Or I grew on her. The verdict is still out."

Hiro sighed "Couldn't keep her under my wing for much longer, word was starting to spread. And Kavok was getting suspicious too."

"Progress was steady, but with his resources, he should have expected to have conquered Dalmoor twice over by now. Before long he would figure out the odd mistake here and there was purposeful, putting my true nature at risk. But what truly concerned me..."

Hiro gazed back at Lyssandra "Was that it would have left her at risk as well, and that I could not have. I'm sorry for possibly screwing your plan, Vilnius."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra’s knuckles whitened around the arms of her chair. Every word from Hiro’s mouth felt like a stone added to the weight pressing against her ribs. Spymaster. Saboteur. A decade of deception—all laid bare in this single conversation, as casual as discussing the weather.

She should have been furious. And she was. But beneath the anger simmered something far more dangerous: understanding.

Steady?” Her voice cut through the war room like a whip crack. All eyes turned to her as she pushed herself upright, ignoring the twinge in her leg. “You call this steady?” A sweeping gesture toward the maps, the markers, the evidence of Kavok’s encroaching forces. “You let him take Ironwood. You let him slaughter my—” Her breath hitched. She forced it steady.

She took a limping step forward, then another, until she stood beside Hiro. Not in support. In confrontation.

“You used me.” Not a question. An accusation.

The king and his commanders held their breath. Hiro opened his mouth—but Lyssandra wasn’t finished.

“You let me think you were just another mercenary with a shred of decency. You let me trust you.” Her voice dropped, raw at the edges. “And now you’re apologizing to him for protecting me?”

The silence that followed was thicker than blood. Then—

Lyssandra grabbed Hiro’s collar and yanked him down, pressing her forehead hard against his. Her next words were for him alone, a whisper like a blade between ribs:

“...Never apologize for that again.”

She released him and turned to the war table, shoulders squared. “Now. Where do we strike first?”

King Vilnius coughed into his hand, failing to hide his smile. “Ah. Youth.”

Persona Avatar   Hiro

"Oh, stop it, Vilnius. You're not that old..."

"But your honorary war advisor here makes a good point" Hiro jested, nudging Lyssandra with his arm, knowing she would scoff. "Where do we strike first?"

Hiro grabbed a rod, moving a mock wooden piece into place. "Lynvar is still neutral. The lord there is greedy, pompous. He has been holding his forces until he's promised more. And I know for a fact that Kovak has grown tired."

Hiro moved another piece, Kovak's king piece "He will be traveling there with his private militia. Very few are aware the meeting is happening. It's there or never. A small force—under the cover of darkness—can move silently through Lynvar without alerting outposts or sentries. And if your best men are part of said force..."

"It's risky, suicidal even... but it can work."

Hiro dropped the rod on the table. His gaze caught Lyssandra for a moment, face turned serious. "I volunteer to lead the contingent. My only condition is that you make sure she stays safe. Tie her to a white tree if need be, or lock her in the palace's dungeons until word arrives we either failed or succeeded."

"Don't and she will limp her way after me, and I will only do this if you assure me that won't happen."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra’s fist slammed onto the war table, sending markers scattering.

“Absolutely not.”

Her voice was low, lethal. The kind of tone that had made greener militia recruits blanch. She leaned over the map, her blue eyes blazing.

“You don’t get to volunteer me for the sidelines like some—some kept pet.” She jabbed a finger at Lynvar on the map. “I know those forests. I’ve hunted their trails since I could hold a bow. And you—” Her finger swung to Hiro, “—are not stumbling into an ambush without me there to pull your idiotic human ass out of the fire.”

King Vilnius held up a hand before Hiro could retort. “Lyssandra,” he said mildly, “You're still not fully healed. You can barely stand.”

She bared her teeth in something too feral to be a smile. “Then tie me to Hiro’s back if you have to. But I am going.”

Lyssandra’s ear tips flushed, but she didn’t back down.

Vilnius looked between them, his ancient eyes glittering with amusement. “Very well. We’ll position archers in the western thickets—Lyssandra can direct them. Hiro, you’ll lead the main force without getting killed.” A pointed look. “And yes, she’ll be watching your back.”

Lyssandra gave a sharp nod, satisfied. “Good. Now—let’s kill a tyrant.”

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Hiro opened his mouth to argue—then closed it with a groan. Some battles, it seemed, weren't worth fighting.

He sighed, rubbing his head. "I hate that I love this stubborn elf. It's settled then."

As Lyssandra turned around and lowered her guard, Hiro's arm moved around her, but it was hardly gentle. It didn't tie around her waist, but around her neck instead, pressure rising steadily.

Hiro held until he felt her struggle dim, feeling the sting of betrayal on her last murmurs before going limp in his hold, out cold. "Sorry. I care too much to see you die."

Two guards came to carry the unconscious Lyssandra away, leaving just Hiro and King Vilnius.

"I will leave at dusk with your private guard. They're your best and we have history. After all, I was once part of their ranks."

Hiro caught the final glimpse of Lyssandra's sleeping form as she was carried out of the tent. "She will hate me when she wakes up... You owe me Vilnius. Keep her safe, and don't let her weasel her way out until you hear news of what transpired at Lynvar."

Hiro turned on the spot, moving to exit the tent, but paused. "If I am going to win your war, the least you can do is make sure the woman I love lives to see it."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

King Vilnius's expression softened as Hiro turned to leave. The old elf reached out, catching his arm with a grip far stronger than his age suggested.

"Wait."

From beneath his robes, he produced a slender Dalmoorian cutlass—its blade etched with runes, its hilt wrapped in silverthorn vines.

"Take this," he said, pressing it into Hiro's palm. "A gift from your queen. She always said you'd need it one day." A ghost of a smile. "Seems she was right."

He released Hiro's arm and stepped back, his voice lowering to a murmur only the spymaster could hear:

"And Hiro? Don't die, or that girl will literally resurrect you just to murder you herself."


(Many hours later)

Lyssandra came to in a softly lit chamber—not a cell, but a high-ranking officer’s quarters, the scent of medicinal herbs thick in the air. Her head throbbed where Hiro’s grip had pressed, but the pain was nothing compared to the fury burning through her veins the moment her vision cleared.

She shot upright—then gasped as her injured leg protested, nearly collapsing back onto the bed.

“That bastard—” Her voice was a rasp, hands clenching the sheets so hard they nearly tore.

The door creaked open. King Vilnius entered, carrying a tray of tea and bread. He didn’t flinch at the murderous glare she leveled at him.

“Ah. You’re awake.” He set the tray down with deliberate calm. “I’d ask how you’re feeling, but given the language you’re about to use, I assume ‘betrayed’ and ‘homicidal’ are on the list.”

Lyssandra snarled, “Where is he?”

“Gone.” The king took a sip of tea, unfazed. “Left at dusk with my guard. They’ll reach Lynvar by dawn.”

Lyssandra’s breath came fast, her mind racing. She threw off the blankets, ignoring the dizziness as she staggered to her feet. “I need a horse. Now.

Vilnius sighed. “Hiro made me swear an oath to keep you here.”

“And I don’t give a damn about oaths made to traitors!” She lunged for the door—only for her leg to buckle. The king caught her effortlessly, guiding her back to the bed with infuriating patience.

She slapped his hands away. “You don’t understand—he’s walking into a massacre! Lynvar’s forests are littered with Kavok’s scouts! He’ll be slaughtered without me—”

Her voice cracked. The king studied her for a long moment before speaking softly:

“Do you really think so little of him?”

Lyssandra froze.

Vilnius continued, “Hiro chose this mission because he knows Lynvar better than any living soul. Because he’s the only one who can get close enough to Kavok. And because—” He tilted his head, “—he’d rather you hate him than watch you die.”

Lyssandra’s nails dug into her palms. “...He had no right.

“Perhaps not.” The king shrugged. “But love seldom asks for permission.”

A heavy silence fell. Lyssandra stared at the floor, her jaw clenched tight. After a moment, Vilnius rose.

“Rest. I’ll return when there’s news.”

Persona Avatar   Hiro

Two days passed without news. King Vilnius sat worried at his throne.

Lyssandra too was there. As much as the royal advisors protested about having a common foot soldier in the room, it was the best place to keep her moderately restrained without the need of a leash.

A horn sounded in the distance, past the gates. Minutes later, a messenger entered the throne room, followed by a scout who had been stationed at the border near Lynvar. Both bowed politely. "News, milord."

Vilnius waved them closer, "Forget proper addresses, what word have you of Lynvar?"

The scout approached. "Smoke can be seen from the town over, milord, and witness reports are clear. Lord Kavok is dead, and so are most of his trusted seconds-in-command. They all burned together at Lynvar's Fortress. The human lords are already scattering at the possibility of peace talks."

A crowd of cheers and celebrations erupted in the throne room, lasting for a handful of seconds before the King's hand rose, demanding silence. "And our men?" He asked, "My private guard and the human who led them?"

The scout and messenger traded looks, before both faced the king once more. "No riders were seen leaving the fortress after it was engulfed by the flames... None survived, milord."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra's world shattered in an instant.

The cheers around her turned to distant echoes, muffled as if underwater. Her knees gave way, but she caught herself on the armrest of the throne dais, fingers digging into the polished wood until her knuckles turned white.

"No."

The word tore from her throat, raw and broken. Not a denial—a plea. A command to the universe itself to reverse its course.

King Vilnius's face aged decades in seconds. His hands trembled on the throne's arms before he forcibly stilled them. When he spoke, his voice was steel wrapped in grief:

"Search again. Send every scout. I want—" He swallowed hard. "I want proof."

But Lyssandra was already moving.

Without a word, she turned and strode toward the racks lining the throne room walls. The guards moved to stop her—until they saw her face. Whatever expression she wore made them step aside without a word.

She selected a bow. A quiver. A dagger for her belt.

"Lyssandra." The king's voice was gentle behind her. "Don't—"

She nocked an arrow and spun, letting it fly past Vilnius's cheek to thud into the tapestry behind him. The court gasped.

"The next one goes through your throat," she said calmly. "Try to stop me again."

The room erupted into shouts as she bolted for the doors. Guards moved again, only to freeze as Vilnius's voice cracked like a whip:

"Let her go."

The king rose, his ancient eyes glittering with unshed tears. "You won't stop her. Not now." To Lyssandra, softer: "Take my horse. Ride hard."

Lyssandra didn't thank him. She couldn't speak past the iron band crushing her chest. But as she turned to run, two words escaped in a whisper:

"...Find him."


The ride to Lynvar took hours, hours she didn't have. The fortress was still smoldering when she arrived, its blackened skeleton jutting against the dawn sky like broken teeth. Lyssandra didn't slow her horse as she charged through the wreckage, ignoring the heat, the stench of burnt flesh, the way her half-healed leg screamed in protest.

She called his name. Again. And Again. Until her voice was raw. Until—

Persona Avatar   Hiro

A cough. Faint. From the rubble near what had been the eastern barracks.

Scorched timber was clawed back with bare hands until fingers bled. And there, under all of it—

Hiro. Burned. Broken. Barely conscious. But alive.

His charred lips curved into the faintest smile as Lyssandra pulled him free. "Told... you... to stay... put..." he rasped. "Stubborner... than a h-house cat."

Character Avatar   Lyssandra

Lyssandra didn't cry. Soldiers didn't cry. But the way her hands shook as she cradled Hiro's scorched face might have been worse.

"You idiot," she choked out, pressing her forehead to his. His skin was blistered, his breath ragged—but alive. "You absolute, reckless, self-sacrificing—"

Her voice broke. She yanked Hiro upright with far more force than necessary, slinging his arm over her shoulders, getting a pained groan out of him.

"Good," she snapped, dragging him toward the horse. Her own injured leg trembled under their combined weight, but she didn't falter. "Pull a stunt like this again and I'll end you myself."

Lyssandra said no more, didn't trust herself to. Instead, she hauled him onto the horse with a grunt, climbing up behind to keep him upright. His back pressed against her chest, his heartbeat faint but steady.

As they rode away from the ruins, Hiro's head lolled against her shoulder, she only spoke again when a faint whisper reached her ear: "...knew you loved me back."

Lyssandra's grip on the reins tightened. After a long moment, she pressed her lips to the least-burned patch of his temple.

"...Shut up," she muttered. "Idiot."


[Epilogue]

Two months later, in the quiet shade of Briv’s turnip fields…

Hiro groaned as Lyssandra tightened the bandages around his ribs a little too firmly.

“Still mad, I take it?”

Lyssandra didn’t dignify that with a response. Just yanked the knot tight—then leaned in, pressing her lips to the scar curling along his collarbone.

Hiro blinked.

She pulled back, scowling. “I am still mad. But I’ll be furious if you die before I’m done with you.”

Then she kissed him properly—hard enough to bruise, fierce enough to erase all doubt. The kind of kiss that could start wars. Or end them.

And Hiro, ever the quick learner, decided then and there that getting nearly blown up was worth it—if this was the welcome home he got.

[END]

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Pub: 10 Jun 2025 22:17 UTC
Edit: 25 Jun 2025 11:38 UTC
Views: 253