Tag Archives: Hethurin

The Princess and the Pea

(( This week’s prompt is a retelling of a fairy tale. I picked The Princess and the Pea by Hans Christian Andersen. ))

“Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a prince named Lor’themar Theron.”

“Ann’da! That’s not right! Lor’themar Theron is a regent lord, not a prince!”

Terellion smiled at Malwen, “I thought you wanted a princess story? And if it’s a princess story, it has to be a prince, not a regent lord.”

“But he’s not! I learned it in class with Miss Lali!”

“Well, who do you think should be the prince then?”

Malwen thought about it for a moment, then pulled her blanket back up as she lied down. “You can be the prince.”

“Me?”

Malwen nodded.

“Oh, okay, but that means the princess will have to be Arcann’da.”

Malwen nodded again.

“Okay then. Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a prince named Ann’da.”

“No. You should use your real name because it sounds funny to say Prince Ann’da.”

“Oh yes, you’re right. Let me start again. Once upon a time in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a prince named Terellion. Prince Terellion and his mother, the Queen, were looking for a princess for him to marry. They met many candidates, but there was always something wrong with them. One of them had big feet. Princesses don’t have big feet. Another had hair that was dull and drab. A princess’s hair must be shiny and beautiful. Still another was invited to a feast at the castle, but that princess burped loudly before the meal had even started! Princesses shouldn’t do that! Prince Terellion was sure all the princesses that he met weren’t really princesses, and he needed a real princess to marry, not a fake one.

“One night, there was a terrible storm. Lightning flashed, and the rain poured down. Thunder rumbled and the wind howled! Prince Terellion and the Queen barely heard the knock at the door. The Queen had thought it was just the wind, but Prince Terellion decided to double check, just to make sure that no one was stuck outside in the storm. It was a good thing he did because there was someone there! There was a beautiful man there, but what a sight he was in the rain! His fancy clothes were soaked through, and his wet hair clung to his face. He claimed to be a princess who had gotten lost in the storm, and said his name was Hethurin. Terellion couldn’t believe it, but he had to make sure that Princess Hethurin was a real princess and not just a fake like the others, so he went to his mother to ask what to do.”

Malwen giggled, “Of course he’s a real princess! Marry him!”

“Oh, but Prince Terellion doesn’t know that yet. He has to make sure.”

“How can he do that?”

“He has to go to the Queen and ask her.”

Malwen nodded.

“Okay, so he goes to see the Queen, and she says to put a pea under twenty mattresses and ask Princess Hethurin to sleep there for the night. So Prince Terellion goes and sets up a bed with 20 mattresses and slips a pea under the bottom one, and then they all go to sleep.

“In the morning they all meet for breakfast and the Queen asks Princess Hethurin how he slept. Princess Hethurin told no lies and stated that there was a horrible lump in the bed and he was certain that he was bruised from it. The Queen then knew that he was a real princess for only a real princess could be that delicate!

“Prince Terellion then married Princess Hethurin because he knew he had found a real princess at last! The pea was taken to the royal museum, and unless someone has stolen it, it is there still.”

“What about them?”

“What do you mean?”

“They lived happily ever after, right?”

Terellion smiled, “Of course they did, and they adopted two little princesses to tell the story to.” He leaned over and kissed Malwen’s forehead. “Goodnight, Princess Malwen.”

“Goodnight, Ann’da.”

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Crystalsong Forest

It had been a week since Hethurin had first woke up in the strange room at a high elven outpost in Crystalsong Forest. The only person he had seen during that time was Zayel. She spent much of her day with him in the room, though usually she was at her desk when she wasn’t tending his wounds. She tried speaking to him each time she washed him with the herb-infused water, but he usually declined to answer her questions. When he did respond, it was usually short, one-word answers. He spent most of his time staring out the window at the crystallized tree tops while thinking about home.

Zayel was much more talkative than he was. She shared stories of her training as a priestess, of her trips to Dalaran, and about the guard who had helped her bring him to the outpost. He’d heard enough to figure out the guard liked her, but Zayel didn’t seem to notice. Hethurin didn’t point it out.

He’d also learned that his leg injury was severe. His lower right leg had a gash in it that cut almost down to the bone, and his thigh on the same leg also had a deep gash. The wound on his thigh was lengthwise, and while not as deep as the one on his calf, it was long, and just as painful. Both had swelled up around the edges and looked awful during the first couple of days at the outpost, but now the swelling had gone down. Zayel said he was on the mend, but still wouldn’t let him leave. His wrists were still firmly held by the arcane shackles.

He was more awake now than he had been the first few days. She had told him he had a nasty bump on his head, but she wouldn’t fetch him a mirror. She did seem concerned about his head injury. To be honest, he was too, but just in the past day his headache had lessened. He took that as a good sign even if he couldn’t walk yet. He hoped to convince Zayel that he would be fine if he teleported home.

He waited until Zayel sat next to the bed with bowl of water. She started dabbing the damp cloth on his forehead. It stung a bit, but it wasn’t too bad. “How are you feeling this afternoon?”

Hethurin decided to get straight to the point, “Better. May I leave now?”

Zayel smiled, “I’m glad you’re feeling better, but I can tell you’re still weak. I would be responsible if I let you leave and you didn’t make it to your destination.”

Hethurin frowned as she dipped the cloth in the bowl of water , “I’ll make it.”

She pressed the cloth against his forehead again, causing him to wince. “You don’t know that. You’ll need at least a few weeks to recover your full magic ability.” She glanced at his leg, “And at least a few months to recovery physically. I may let you go once I have a better idea of your magic capabilities. If I know you can make it to somewhere you can continue to heal physically, I won’t have a problem seeing you off, but for now you are quite weak, both physically and magically.”

“I’m weak because you keep these arcane shackles on me constantly. I can’t cast anything with them on.”

“Those are there to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not going to!”

“You’ll try to attempt to teleport home the moment I remove them.”

Hethurin glared at her. Of course he would, and it wasn’t a stupid idea.

She regarded him curiously, “I’d offer to help get you home, but you obviously won’t be able to walk from where my portal would be, and since I’ve never seen your home, I can’t open one directly there.” She picked up the bowl and stood, taking her time as she walked around to the other side of the bed. He felt her sit down on the bed behind him, and heard her wring the water out of the cloth. He felt the cloth against the wounds on his back. They still stung a bit, but not as much. She spoke again, “Besides, there’s something off about you, and I’d like to figure out what it is before I let you go.”

He almost let that go without a response, but curiosity got the best of him, “Off?”

“Off. It’s almost as if you don’t belong here.” She continued dabbing the cloth at the wounds on his back.

“No, a sin’dorei doesn’t have much business being at a quel’dorei outpost. I just want to go home.”

“It’s not that, nor does it have anything to do with the purge in Dalaran.”

“I don’t know what it is then.” Hethurin twitched an ear.

“I find it curious. That’s all.”

He refused to answer anymore of her questions, choosing instead to stare intently at the crystal tree tops out the window until she was done tending his wounds and had returned to her desk. Then he drifted off to sleep again.

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The Strange Room

Hethurin Fairsong opened his eyes. It was dark, but it wasn’t cold anymore. He was inside. He remembered being outside, stuck in a bush. How did he get inside? He looked around the room, taking note of things while trying to figure out where he was. There was a warm glow coming from the fireplace, providing the room with what little light there was. He was on a soft bed with lots of frilly blankets and pillows in light colors. He couldn’t tell which colors they were in the low lighting, but he doubted knowing the colors would help him figure out where he was anyway. There was a sofa nearer the fire place, and a desk against the further wall. There was an empty cloak hook next to the door.

The decor reminded him of Malwen’s room. There was even a doll on the small bedside table next to the bed. Still, this wasn’t home, and nothing he could see helped him know where he was other than some strange female’s room.

His head still hurt. He went to raise his hand to his forehead only to find his wrist had been secured to the bed frame. He tried his other hand, but it had also been secured. Panic swelled up inside him as he began to try to pull his hands through the restraints. He almost yelled, but thought better of it as he was in his captor’s home. The last thing he wanted was to call whoever it was to him.

Pulling his hands out wasn’t working. He decided that rather quickly as his head ached more as he struggled. He was also reminded that the bush he had been in before was thorny and very sharp as the thorns had turned to crystal. His back side felt like it was on fire, and the pain in one of his legs was almost too much to stand. Movement was not helping any of his pain. He tried to force himself to calm down, pulling once more on the restraints before resting his head back on the pillow and staring at the ceiling. That’s when he remembered he hadn’t tried magic yet.

He was still weak, and had just spent a great deal of the energy he did have trying to break free. That would have a great effect on how much he could cast and how good his spells were. He decided to try for just a small teleport, one that would get his hands free, but still leave him in the same room. He took a deep breath and cast the spell.

Nothing happened.

He tried again. The spell was definitely being cast in a way that it drew magic away from him. He could feel it, but still, nothing happened. Using his leg that didn’t hurt as much, he held the blanket with his toes and pulled it down, then repeated the motion until he could see his wrists. That was the problem. Arcane shackles. No magic was going to get past those.

He sighed. He was far too weak to break out of them now and he hurt everywhere. He cried himself back to sleep.

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Awake

Hethurin woke with little recollection of where he was or why he was there, and a lot of thought about one thing: pain. His body screamed of it all over. His head was pounding. He tried to move only to send new waves of agony throughout his limbs. He fought against panicking and trying to move again while trying to get his bearings. Where was he? He was in a thorny, crystal bush. Why was he in a thorny, crystal bush? He didn’t remember going to sleep in one. How would one go to sleep in a thorny, crystal bush in the first place? Where was Terellion? Certainly, he would help.

He realized then that he wasn’t in the Ghostlands. The Ghostlands were cold, wet, and often gloomy. This place was cold, dry and sparkly. Everything seemed to be made of crystals. He couldn’t remember how he got here. Maybe it was a dream, but dreams weren’t supposed to hurt so much.

He tried to move his arm to lift it off the thorns, but it only put more weight on the rest of his body. He winced and held his breath. He was sure now that if it was a dream, that much pain would have woke him up. He ground his teeth together as he lowered his arm back down. He did not want to cry out in a strange place.

But it wasn’t strange. It seemed familiar, then the name of a city came to mind. Dalaran. He was in the forest below Dalaran. He looked around again, trying to figure out why he was here. Had the past years only been an elaborate dream? If so, that would explain why Terellion wasn’t with him, but then where was Aeramin? He made a face finding the thought repulsive now. He didn’t want to be with Aeramin. He wanted to be with Terellion even if he did wind up just being a dream elf. No, there had to be a better explanation. Terellion was real. He was sure of that.

Terellion must have went for help.

He was groggy and weak, and a light snow began to fall around him. He passed out again.

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The Not-So-Slow Fall

Hethurin immediately regretted throwing himself off Dalaran. Everyone and everything he loved flashed in his mind all at the same time as the crystal forest below the city appeared closer and closer. Would they even know what happened to him? He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, but maybe Thalien’s presence in his practice room would give them a good idea. But even then, would they be allowed to come back and look for his body?

Malwen had just found a family, and now he was going to die and leave Terellion to raise her and Narise alone. They might not even know what happened to him. Would Malwen believe he had left them on purpose? Maybe with her imagination, she’d believe he had turned into the dragonhawk! Narise would miss being carried around in the sling while he taught his class. He was sure of that. Terellion’s heart would be broken, and that broke Hethurin’s heart to even think about. He loved Ter and the girls more than anyone, and couldn’t imagine them suffering because of his foolish mistakes. The school that he had done so much work for would be left without its headmaster. Who would keep it running now? Desdeyliri and Keyalenn were to go for their testing after the holidays. Would they be able to go if the school closed?

His robe flew up over his face blocking his view of the approaching ground. He tried to move it out of the way only to decide there was no time to bother. His only hope now was that the silencing would wear off before he hit the ground. He tried to cast the spell to slow his fall, but no words came out. He tried again, and again. Time was running out.

A sharp crystal branch tore at his leg just as the words came from his mouth. Another tore at his thigh. The last word of the spell came out as more of a yelp of pain than the actual word, but it worked. His head hit the broad-side of another branch just as the spell took effect, but it hit hard enough that he passed out from the pain. His body continued to float slowly to the ground, the remaining branches scratching at him as he broke through the forest canopy.  He came to rest in a thorny crystal bush still unconscious.

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Saving Thalien

Hethurin Fairsong double-checked that he had locked his practice room door. He only had a short time. Narise had taken longer to go down for her nap than usual, and break for lunch was almost over. He was due back in the classroom soon. Luckily, time magic would allow him to return to just a few seconds after he left, so he wasn’t worried about getting back on time. Rather, he was worried about leaving before any interruptions.

He walked to the table in the middle of the room. His hourglass sat on the middle of the table. Xyliah and Berwick would be leaving the Ghostlands soon, so he had to do this now.

He had spent some of his spare time in the past weeks preparing for today. He had viewed and followed the dragonhawk’s flight from Dalaran and back. He had watched as Berwick sent Xyliah first. Thalien had carried her to safety, and she sent him back for Berwick. He had almost made it too, though Berwick had been captured moments before. Hethurin had watched that too, wishing he could do something, but knowing that sort of change would mess up the timeline. Saving the dragonhawk wouldn’t have the impact that rescuing Berwick ahead of time would. Xyliah had been one of the key people to help plan the mission to save some of the elves held in the city. Removing her involvement would remove a great number of the rangers who came to assist with the operation.

Thalien had died on his way back for Berwick. He had successfully dodged two frost bolts, only to be hit in the wing by a third when he was almost to the place where Berwick had been when he left carrying Xyliah. Hethurin had viewed the dragonhawk as he went spiraling out of control, hitting the outer wall of the city forcefully as he tried to regain control of his injured wing. After hitting the wall, he went limp and dropped into the crystal forest below the city.

Hethurin had slowed his viewing at that point, studying the limp dragonhawk in the moments before it hit the ground. He had hoped to find some sign that it was still alive, but no matter how slowly he viewed Thalien’s descent, he could not discern if he was still breathing or not. That meant he was going to have to grab him out of his time before he hit the wall if there was going to be any hope of saving him for Xyliah.

That meant going to Dalaran during the purge.

He took a deep breath. He knew it was imperative that no one saw him during this mission. He would be able to get there and hide himself under one of his invisibility wards, but to cast the spell to save Thalien and teleport him to the future, he was going to have to let it drop. It would be only for a short time, but it still made him nervous. He did not want to be captured in the past.

He was also worried about teleporting an injured and panicked dragonhawk into his practice room. He had put most breakables away, though his glass rat cage was still in one corner. He hoped Thalien had enough sense to take a rest once he realized he was inside, and in a different place.

He cast his invisibility spell then turned over the hourglass while casting his spell to go to the time of the purge of Dalaran.

He arrived just outside the wall on the thin strip of grass between the city, and the drop to the forest below. He was moments ahead of Thalien’s arrival. He heard shouting and screaming from inside the city. He crouched near the wall, and focused on keeping his invisibility active while watching the sky where Thalien would approach. The human mage who would eventually shoot Thalien with a frost bolt was already at it, shooting at other dragonhawks to remove methods of escape from the city.

A few seconds later, he saw the dragonhawk approach. He watched as he dodged the first frost bolt. The human mage cast again, and Thalien dodged the second one. Hethurin waited. He had to let the human expend the same amount of magic on his spells as he was supposed to. He was determined not to change anything except the dragonhawk’s death. He held his breath as the human mage cast again. He readied his own spell to catch the dragonhawk, and send him forward through time to the Ghostlands. The frost bolt fired from the human mage’s hands, and hit Thalien’s left wing. The dragonhawk began tumbling towards the wall. Hethurin broke his invisibility, and cast his spell, teleporting the dragonhawk forward to his practice room just seconds before it hit the wall.

He took a deep breath and began to cast his spell to return himself. He was almost through it when it stopped. He opened his mouth to cast it again, but nothing came out.

“You! Halt! You’re under arrest!”

Hethurin looked up. Another human mage stood on the wall looking down at him.

“Don’t move. Someone’s coming to take you into custody.”

His heart was racing. He heard the mage talking to someone else.

“Hurry before the silencing wears off.”

Hethurin glanced back up. He was bad at judging the age of humans, but this one looked fairly young. An apprentice then. He looked back down to see an armored human running towards him with arcane shackles.

He couldn’t imagine anything worse than being taken prisoner. He glanced back up at the apprentice mage, and glared at him until the armored human was only a few feet away, the whole time trying to cast his spell. The silencing held, and the apprentice smiled smugly.

Hethurin shook his head and mouthed the words, “Not today”, in common, hoping the human could read lips. He threw himself off the side of the ledge, and began plummeting to towards the crystal forest below.

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Hethurin’s Notes

  • Things have been going well. We had a day at the school where prospective students could come visit with their parents and that went really well. So far, we have four new students since the fall session started, and another should be in contact in a few days, hopefully. The parents wanted time to decide in the last student’s case, and so I’m giving them until the end of the month. Honestly, I’d accept them after, but I won’t hold the spot for them after that so it’ll be first come first serve.
  • There’s still a lot of space left anyway. Vyn and Sal moved to the new building so the attic rooms are empty, and I would like to get students in those again. Keyalenn, Xarola, and Loralinde all went to the new buildings too, so that cleared out a few rooms on the second floor, which means I have guest rooms again. Desdeyliri, Zalindri and Lhoris all stayed here in the rooms they’ve had since first coming here.
  • With the new students, there’s two rooms left in the women’s new building, one in the men’s and then just the attic rooms here which I would like to be filled by either two girls or two boys. It will probably wind up being boys because the boy’s building is almost full already.
  • One of the new boys, Kindroth, knows Keyalenn. They used to go to school together in Silvermoon. I guess Keyalenn recommended the school to him. Maybe the other students will recommend it to their friends too.
  • The classes are going well. The new students are settling in nicely, and a couple of them are interested in specializing in arcane. The students who were here before are all doing well too. Raleth tells me that Keyalenn is doing very well and should be ready for his testing soon, which is great! We’ll have our second graduate! Des is doing very well also, and she doesn’t have much left to learn either. Some of the newer students aren’t sure what they want to specialize in yet, and that’s okay too. Sometimes even those that do know wind up changing their minds later on. I think Lhoris has finally found his specialty too, as Aeramin has asked to schedule extra private lessons with him.
  • The builders will have a small break for winter. I think Sath’alor wants them in the spring to build more cabins. They did a wonderful job with Malwen’s room. They added a private bathroom for her, and over it, she has a doll loft. When Narise is old enough, we’ll move her into the room next to Malwen’s and have it renovated to be similar to her sister’s room with her own bathroom and loft area. That will be a few years though. She’s still so tiny, but Esladra said she could start eating some pureed food. She has grown a lot since we adopted her. I still carry her around a lot during the day. She likes going to the lessons with me, and I give her milk while I’m working in my office. Ter says I hog her, but he hogs Malwen. He says that while laughing though, so I don’t think he’s mad about it. Malwen’s always following him around when she’s not working on her lessons. Lali gives her homework, and Ter will sit with her and help. She doesn’t need much help. She’s very smart! She likes to help him with the baking and the gardening too.
  • I signed her up for a class in Silvermoon. It’s a class for sewing for girls. I made sure to ask if there would be other girls her age there, and I was assured that there would be. There’s no one out here at her age, so I thought she might like to have some friends. Maybe she’ll be able to make some in the sewing class. It’s every weekend in the morning. Terellion has been going with her, though he waits outside or does some shopping and things while she’s in the class.
  • Speaking of classes in Silvermoon, Vaildor is still going to the art school, and I have to make portals for him twice a week so he can get there. I found out that he’s been seeing father at lunch while he’s there. He hasn’t even written to ask how I’m doing since the wedding! Well, okay, he wrote once, but that’s nothing like seeing someone twice a week. I invited him to the mask party. I hope he can make it.
  • The mask party is going to be so great this year! Malwen is really excited, and Ter is making spooky cake. I don’t think Narise cares much yet, but she’s going to be a pea pod. Malwen won’t tell me what she and Terellion are going to be. Ter won’t tell me either. I’m just going to wear a regular fancy mask with feathers on it, which is probably boring, but it’s enough for me. Besides, I want something that’s easy to take off so that Narise will recognize me.
  • Xyliah was by the other day and she mentioned that she and Berwick are going to leave after the holiday. I have an idea to get them something, though Renner probably won’t approve. I don’t see how it would change anything though, so I’ll just do it without asking him.

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