Forbidden Bond: A Velthorn Tale

The sun had begun its descent into the horizon in the west, casting shadows upon the high walls of the pass. For an hour now Mikhail had noticed that the walls had begun to get shorter and shorter. He guessed that soon they would reach the end of the pass, something that they would have done long ago if Anora had ridden with him on Bakule’s back. But Mikhail had understood her apprehension of him and the large animal so he hadn’t gotten mad over it and had let her walk beside him. It had given him ample time to study her though. As they had walked through the winding and narrow pass he had noticed that despite her lineage she carried herself more upright than that of the Goblins that Mikhail had seen in the past, how few they were. He had also been told that the goblins naturally tended to slouch and that had indicated that they were not very intelligent. But as they had traveled he would catch himself looking into her striking orange eyes and would be both embarrassed and mesmerized by what seemed to be a very intelligent mind behind them.

The three of them, Bakule, Mikhail, and Anora rounded a corner to see an opening ahead. Mikhail smiled, realizing that they had reached the end of the pass. A few moments and steps later they reached the opening. Below them Nestled at the foot of the mountains, the small town of Arendale gleamed like a beacon of civilization amidst the untamed wilderness. The warm light of the setting sun danced across the tiled roofs of the buildings, casting long shadows that stretched across the narrow streets. Thin tendrils of smoke rose from the chimneys, carrying with them the promise of warmth and comfort after their long journey through the pass. Anora stepped up beside Mikhail, her orange eyes fixed on the town below. She tilted her head, her red curls bouncing with the motion, as she studied the unfamiliar sight. Mikhail glanced down at her, noting the mix of curiosity and apprehension that played across her features.

"That's Arendale," he said, his voice soft as he gestured towards the town. "It's where we'll be staying for the night.”

Anora looked up at him, her brow furrowed slightly as she tried to understand his words. Mikhail smiled reassuringly, pointing once more to the town and then to the two of them. Anora's eyes followed his gesture, and a flicker of comprehension crossed her face.

Mikhail dismounted from Bakule, his boots crunching against the rocky ground as he landed. He reached up and patted the elk's neck, murmuring a few words of praise to his faithful companion. Bakule snorted softly, nuzzling Mikhail's hand in response.

"We'll need to be careful on the way down," Mikhail said, turning to face Anora. "The path can be treacherous, especially in the fading light."

Anora nodded, her expression serious as she seemed to understand the gravity of his words. Mikhail reached into his pack and pulled out a long, sturdy rope. He stepped over to Anora with the rope in hand and made to tie it around her. Anora batted his hand away and stepped back, fear in her eyes. Mikhail for a moment was confused then realized what it had looked like to her what he was going to do.

"Sorry,” he told her, holding the rope up. “ This will help us stay together," he explained, as he tied it around his waist, his blue eyes meeting her orange ones. "The trail is narrow. If one of us slips, the other can keep them from falling." he said as he made a falling gesture with his hands.

Anora stared at him for a few quiet seconds. He could see her trying to decide to trust him. As she followed the length of rope to where it sat tied around his waist. Mikhail wasn’t sure if she had meant to rub her neck with a hand but she had done it nonetheless. Mikhail stepped forward then kneeled down infront of her coming eye level with her. She recoiled a bit.

“I won’t put it around your neck.” he said as he looked into her eye’s, gesturing towards his own neck. “Here.” he handed her the end of the rope. “You do it.”

Anora tentatively reached up and grabbed the end of the rope that he held. She looked him in the eyes sternly, almost not understanding why he wouldn’t just place it around her neck and drag her down the path. Mikhail stood and stepped over to Bakule, tying another end of the rope off to his saddle. Anora warped the end of her rope around her thin waist and tied it off. By the time Mikhail was done with Bakule she had tied hers in a tight knot.

Together, they began their descent towards Arendale, the path winding down the mountainside like a serpent. Bakule followed behind them, his hooves finding purchase on the rocky terrain with practiced ease. The air grew colder as they descended, the warmth of the sun fading as it dipped below the horizon. Mikhail kept a watchful eye on Anora as they walked, noting the way she carefully placed her feet, her balance impeccable despite the uneven ground. He marveled at her agility, wondering once more about the life she had led before their paths had crossed. After half an hour of steady and careful walking they neared the outskirts of Arendale, the sound of distant voices and the clatter of daily life began to reach their ears. Anora's ears twitched, her head turning towards the source of the noises. Mikhail placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, feeling the tension in her muscles.

"It's alright," he said softly. "The people here won't harm you. They're good folk, like my uncle."

Anora looked up at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of deception. Finding none, she nodded slowly, the tension in her body easing slightly.

Mikhail undid the rope from Bakule’s saddle and then from around his waist. Anora then followed suit, letting it drop to the ground as Mikhail wound it back up. Together, they stepped into the outskirts of Arendale, the warm glow of lamplight spilling out from the windows of the buildings. The scent of baking bread and roasting meat filled the air, making Mikhail's stomach growl with hunger. He glanced down at Anora, wondering when she had last eaten a proper meal. Besides the meat, bread, and cheese that he had given the night before. She looked so thin and nearly malnourished.

“We are going to my Uncle Nikolas’s place.” He told her. “It’s in the center of town.”

Anora looked up at him then back to her surroundings as they walked along the cobbled stone path. Houses built halfway of stone with wood laid atop them populated the path. Some sat higher than others and at a different angle. The town of Arendale had gotten its start just before Anora’s pass and had been the staging area for the king of Greland so long ago. Few people moved about as they walked down the cobbled street. Men sat on porches laughing, talking or smoking pipes. Through the open windows they could see women going about their business in the many kitchens, preparing the evening meals for their families. The smells of cooking meat stews and fresh bread made their stomachs ache with hunger. More than once Mikhail swore he had heard Anora’s stomach rumble.

As they walked Mikhail could also see smaller forms which he had first thought were children playing. But as he looked closer he could see that they were instead goblins. Their green skin and slouched nature determined this. He had heard that there were goblin slaves in Arendale but had not known to believe it before he had left Aldernhor. He glanced at Anora to see if she had spotted them. Surely she had but she gave no indication as she surveyed her surroundings. Soon they came upon a house much like the others near the center of the town. Lamplight glowed softly from the windows as Mikhail led Bakule up to a post and tied his reins off. The Elk snorted, shaking his massive head and stomped a hoof on the stones beneath his feet. “What?” Mikhail asked him. “You’ll be fine.” he told him as he rubbed his neck. “I’ll be back out soon to put you in the stable.”

Mikhail turned from the red elk and back towards Anora. “Come on.” he said, nodding his head toward the door. Together they ascended the steps. Mikhail raised his fist and knocked on the door. They listened for a moment then he knocked again. “Who is it?” came a gruff reply from the other side of the door. Mikhail cleared his throat. “It is your nephew Mikhail.” he said.

“Mikhail!?” the voice replied loudly as the door opened inwardly. Before him was a tall man, burly and muscular as if he had been using his muscles his entire life. His face seemed to have been chiseled from stone, a stone that had been covered in moss as a full beard covered it. “Mikhail, me boy!” The large man bellowed and spread his arms wide, wrapping Mikhail in a bear hug. Mikhail laughed and smiled as the man lifted him from the ground in the hug then set him back down.

“Hello uncle.” he said smiling. “It’s been some time huh?”

The big man held him out with both arms, getting a good look at him. “Some time? Why it feels like ages ago that I last saw you lad. You weren’t much..” he stopped mid sentence as he caught sight of Anora nervously fidgeting with the tattered ends of the rags she wore. He stood up to his full height eyeing her from top to bottom then back up. “Who’s this then?” he asked Mikhail.

Mikhail panicked for a brief second before saying. “This is Anora uncle. She's a goblin.”

“I can see that boy. Why is she on my doorstep?”

“Oh, well that.” Mikhail started. “I saved her from some bandits on the first night in the pass.”

Mikhail's uncle raised a brow. “Saved her, you say? So she’s your servant?”

Mikhail thought for a second. “Well um, no uncle she’s not. She has followed me and I'm not too sure what to do with her.” Mikhail said as he looked back at Anora. “I was hoping to find her a place in the town where she would be safe.” he finished, looking back at his uncle.

His uncle stood pensively. “I suspect you wish to stay here tonight?”

“Yes sir.” Mikhail replied.

“And I suspect that you want her to stay here as well?”

“Yes, uncle Nikolas.” Mikhail answered again.

Uncle Nikolas studied his nephew for a moment then looked at Anora. His hard gaze made her uneasy. It made her feel as though she was smaller than an ant. An insignificant being who deserves no pity. He looked back to Mikhail and Anora breathed a sigh of relief. “You're too damn soft boy. Like your mother. But I will allow it for the night.” he looked Anora over again. “She will need to be bathed and properly dressed though if she is to stay in my home.”

Mikhail smiled. “Thank you Uncle, of course. But who’s going to attend to that?” Mikhail asked.

Nikolas whistled. Quickly another female goblin appeared in the doorway bowing before the large man. “Take this one and clean it, and then dress it in whatever fits.” he said as he pointed at Anora and instructed the female servant. Her green eyes and brown hair looked well kept for a servant. She was just a bit shorter than Anora and a great deal more ugly as well with a bulbous nose and a pitted face. The goblin woman walked over to Anora who had started to panic a bit. Mikhail could see it in how she recoiled back from the other goblin and how her eyes darted from him to her to his uncle. He stepped over to Anora and said. “It’s okay. She’s going to take you to get cleaned and to get better clothes.”

Anora focused on Mikhail. He could tell by her expression that she didn’t understand. Mikhail repeated what he had said but this time mimed getting clean and pointed at her clothes then at the other female goblins' dress. “You will be safe,” he told her. “I promise.”

Just as before Anora looked into his blue eyes and studied his face trying to detect and deception. There was none and she calmed. The female goblin servant walked up beside Anora and grabbed her hand, uttering something in goblin tongue. Anora’s head snapped at the other goblin as she seemed to understand and although reluctant she followed her lead through the doorway and into the house. Uncle Nikolas watched all of it unfold in gruff silence.

After the two females had disappeared he shook his head. “By Aran boy, you have it bad.”

Mikhail, confused, asked. “What do I have bad?” The two walked into the house as his uncle chuckled and told him to nevermind.

Anora followed the lead of the goblin in front of her, who had identified herself as Morga. They walked through the half wooden and half stone house passing by a large sitting room followed by a kitchen area that had another two goblins working it. Anora was more being pulled than lead as her and Morga headed to the back of the house. Her heart raced as they passed by yet another room with strange furniture that was long and covered by blankets. She looked back and could see Mikhail walk into the first room that her and Morga had passed, wishing to utter a cry for help from him but knew she could not. It frustrated her that she could not speak as others did, for often she was misunderstood, until recently at least.

As she turned her attention back to Morga they rounded a corner in the hallway and into a large room with a stone floor and some giant pot in the middle. Anora began to panic as she saw the pot, thinking that she was soon to be cooked. Morga had seen her expression and uttered to her in the goblin tongue. “Calm child. You will not be cooked. Didn't the yellow haired human not tell you that you’d be safe?”

Anora stopped her struggling as the Morga continued to speak to her. “It is for cleaning, child.” Morga told her. Walking over to a pump and placing a wooden bucket under it. Anora watched with curiosity as Morgha began to move the pump lever up and down, water soon flowing from the spout. Anora had never seen anything like it. She walked up to it and placed her hand tentatively under the water. It was cold and clear. She cupped her hands under the water, drinking from them as they filled. Morga shook her head.

Morga took the bucket over to the tub and poured it in. For the next few minutes she repeated the process. Anora watched the whole time. Once done she gathered some logs from the corner of the room and placed them under the tub then struck a fire with some kindling. Soon a strong flame engulfed the wood and had started to heat up the water. Morga now looked at Anora then pointed at the rags that she wore. “Off.” she told her. Anora looked down at her clothes and then back at Morga who was becoming impatient. “Master says you need bath. Can’t wear clothes in bath.”

Anora stood for a moment longer and then removed the torn cloak that Mikhail had given her to cover her breasts. She placed it on the ground carefully. Then she removed the rest of the clothing she had on and under the coaching of Morga she stepped into the tub. The water, starting to reach a comfortable temperature. The water felt great, as it washed over her green skin. Anora slunk down into the tub, enjoying the feeling of the ever increasing temperature of the water. Shortly after getting in, Morga grabbed the clothes that she had taken off and threw them into the fire. Then she grabbed the cloak and started to toss it into the fire as well until Anora noticed and stood up quickly getting Morga’s attention. She looked down upon Morga, her orange eyes full of defiance which seemed to work despite Anora’s naked form as Morga instead walked over to a low shelf and placed the cloak onto it for further washing.

The rest of the bath went as expected. Morga soon left the room leaving

Anora alone for a time before returning with a dress folded up in her hands, placing it on the same shelf that she had placed the cloak on. Morga waited until Anora wasn’t looking and grabbed the cloak. Taking it to another corner of the room to clean then hung up. She then returned to Anora and aided her in her bath, washing the young female’s curly red locks. Anora has gotten used to the hot water by now and relished its feeling so it wasn't a shock as hot water was dumped upon her head as Morga rinsed her hair.

Mikhail sat down across from his Uncle Nikolas in the sitting room. He had seen Anora being led down the hallway by the goblin maid looking worried as they had rounded a corner into what he knew was the washroom. He knew that she would be okay for the time being so he focused his attention on his uncle. The room was fairly large with heads of various animals hanging from the walls.The half stone, half log wall made for an interesting contrast. A light colored stone with dark wood. A fireplace sat in the wall to Mikhail's left, a few logs being consumed by the lapping of orange and yellow flames. “So nephew.” His uncle began. Mikhail refocused back on him.”How did you come across that goblin?”

Mikhail prepared himself. Something about the man's demeanor unnerved him. “I found her in Anora’s Pass a night ago. Not long after I had set up camp in a wide spot.” he told him, continuing the story of what had happened. He told him of the bandits that he had fought and killed that had planned on taking her virtue. How had felt obligated to help the goblin woman, feeling like it had been the event his sister had suffered all over again. He also spoke of how he had thought that if he had brought her here then she would at least have a better life than scrounging around in the mountains and being attacked by bandits.

The room was quiet for a moment as his uncle mulled over the details. “A terrible thing what happened to your sister. Truly wish it hadn’t happened. It’s understandable that you would want to protect another from such an atrocity.”

Mikhail nodded as a male goblin entered the room carrying two mugs that frothed at the top. The goblin wore a simple tunic and leggings and was bald. Mikhail couldn’t determine his age but he looked seasoned. If he was a human he would think that he was in his forties. Mikhail noticed that his face looked nothing like Anora’s did. Instead it looked alot more like that female goblin that had taken Anora to the washroom. He had green eyes and a bulbous nose. The cheeks seemed to be pock marked with blemishes and he slouched a bit. The goblin looked alot like the ones that Mikhail had seen growing up and also fit the description that the night guard had told him about the goblins. The goblin set a mug of ale down on a small table beside his uncle Nikolas. His uncle made no indication of thanks. Then the goblin stepped over to Mikhail and set his mug down on the small table beside him. The goblin glanced at Mikhail, his eyes betrayed the calm and unassuming look upon his face. They hid a malice that Mikhail found a bit shocking. “That will be all.” His uncle told the goblin who upon hearing the dismissal, turned and bowed low then walked out of the room.

“Don’t mind that old green skin.” Nikolas said gruffly as he took a swig of his ale. “He’s gotten a bit more cantankerous in his old age.”

Mikhail grabbed his ale and tentatively looked at it before taking a gulp himself. He grimaced a bit at the bitter taste, setting the mug back down onto the table. “Not to your liking eh nephew?” His uncle asked, chuckling to himself.

“Not really.” Mikhail answered.

“So, you named this female goblin after the pass?” Uncle Nikolas asked. “Why?”

“Well she doesn’t seem to speak much. I asked if she had a name and she shook her head no so I decided to name her Anora since I found her in the pass.”

His uncle took another gulp of his ale. “I see. That makes sense. What are you going to do with her?” he asked.

Mikhail was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure. I know that it is looked down upon for someone to have a companion so early into their pilgrimage uncle. So I was wondering if there was a place for her here.”

“Oh?” Nikolas said. Contemplating to himself for a moment. “Well boy I don't have any need for her as I have three of them. They do all I need.”

Mikhail shook his head in understanding. He couldn’t have expected his uncle to take in another goblin when he already had what he needed. “But.” his uncle interrupted his thoughts. “There is a man that needs a helper. I could speak to him and he could take her in.”

Mikhail brightened up a bit at the words. Happy that Anora wouldn’t have to return to the wild. “Thank yo…” he stopped mid sentence just as Anora came into his field of vision.

Now clean and dried, wearing an orange flowing dress with bits of leather straps that secured the top around her shoulders. It had a leather belt that wrapped around her waist with a silver buckle in the front. The upper section hugged her thin frame, covering her breasts but leaving the upper parts of her shoulders, chest and neck exposed. Her red curls now free of tangles and dirt bounced freely. Her light green skin now seemed radiant, her freckles seemed more prominent only being contrasted by her striking orange eyes. There was also a visible orange mark upon her forehead that Mikhail had not noticed before. He sat breathless at the sight of her true beauty as Anora noticing his eyes upon her blushed. Mikhail's uncle sat in silence, watching his nephew’s reaction. He could agree on one thing. This may end up being trouble.