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dumplingsfordays · 8 months

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in the willow wood, pt. 1

pairing - prince!gepard x elf!gn!reader (they/them)

genre - fluff

summary - pt. 1 - gepard, the son of a wealthy and powerful duke, meets an elf one day while hunting as a boy and his fellow hunters "arrest" (kidnap basically) them because they insulted the son of a high-ranking noble.

cw! : swearing, killing of forest animals (rabbits, deer, etc), mentions of blood, gepard's dad doesn't rlly care about him, serval hates her dad, belobog (with the exception of gepard and maybe serval) hates elves, reader is wearing a dress, reader is going to be wed in an arranged marriage to a random man, strangers to friends, reader runs away from their parents,

note : still held captive by writer's block :( school also started for me so I won't be posting as much. got the idea when listening to the Regal Ancestor Spirit ost from Elden Ring it's soso good omfg- anyways apologies for any mistakes I make in this fic, but always feel free to correct!!

artwork credit

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"Ha!" cries Dunn, who has finally shot his first rabbit.

His victory was accompanied by clapping from the other hunters, who came forward to encircle him in praise and laughter. Gepard also came forward, beaming at his friend's acheivement, and the two preformed their not-really-so-secret handshake with enthusiasm in front of the group.

"Can't believe you actually did it," the golden-haired boy said to Dunn after the initial excitement of the situation dimmed. "It took you a month. A whole month!"

"Not a whole month," Dunn retorted, cheeks blazing red in embarrassment.

"And for a rabbit!"

"Rabbits are hard to shoot, though! They're tricky little devils. They run and dip and swerve and it's confusing to even watch."

"Sure, sure," Gepard giggled, "you'd be confused if you found out that candles aren't little pieces of sunlight that we steal from the sun and keep for ourselves."

"Wait, they aren't?"

Oh, how he loved these moments with his best friend. These moments of bursting joy, of pure happiness, of melodic laughter - they brought a smile to his face every time that he reminisced with Dunn. Interestingly, most of these tended to happen while the pair went hunting in the lovely, serene woods outside of their kingdom. Hunting was one of those activities that never ceased to be fun, unlike horseback riding or sparring, and it was also a relieving little escape from the grey, cobblestone streets of Belobog. Ruled in part by his father, it towered in the distance as a constant reminder of what Gepard was always, and always will be, part of.

But he decided not to focus on that. Right now, the most important thing to him was to finally prove to the senior hunters that he was capable of hunting alongside them despite his young age of 16.

Previously, they told him that he was to hunt and kill a deer. Gepard was, at first, underwhelmed.

"Hunters do that all the time, and with relative ease," he had said to them before they entered the forest. "Why should this mean anything to you?"

"Because it isn't as easy as it seems," said a grey-haired one, towering over Gepard. "You'll know what I mean when you're about to kill one."

The boy took this reply with a grain of salt. Surely it was easier than that, right? The other hunters do it all the time and they always hit their mark. Their hands don't tremble, their bows remain steady - what is so hard about killing an animal? It's like a rabbit, just bigger, and it doesn't move nearly as fast. It usually stands there, and really, the only thing you have to do is to hit it in the leg or neck or something to make sure it can't run away.

But Gepard was now starting to doubt his previous feelings about the hunter's reply as he started nearing the spot where the group usually kills deer. He felt a sort of uneasiness - not the horrible one that he would get when entering abandoned ballrooms with their dark lighting and thick shrouds of cobwebs, but a gentle, quiet one. What if I wound the deer so it survives and runs away? Will it bleed out in agony, still living, or will it submit its life to him reluctantly, like a fallen champion, bested by the new?

He decided not to dwell on these thoughts. After all, this trial was going to determine Father's opinion of him, and maybe, just maybe, he was going to finally say "I'm proud of you, son." Gepard would fight for that chance.

"And here we are," said a hunter from the front of the group, donned in brownish-grey attire.

A mere 20 feet away stood an elegant, gorgeous deer. It was grazing, pulling the grass from the ground, and the clearing which it was standing in was framed by willow trees swaying gently in the breeze. When Dunn's foot beside Gepard's stepped on a dry leaf, the deer raised its slender head suddenly. It peered over to where the company was crouching behind some bushes, its wide brown eyes alert, and with a flutter of its eyelashes, it resumed grazing.

"Get ready," whispered a hunter beside the golden-haired boy. He nodded, taking out his bow and an arrow from his quiver, and, stepping behind a tree for cover, lifted his bow. Hooking the arrow on the string as gently as possible, Gepard raised the bow and aimed.

But before he could shoot, the deer lifted its head and looked over behind it, to the shadowy glen. From behind a willow in that direction emerged a hand, still gripping the bark, and then a bare foot, and then the whole, radiant figure. Its hair glimmered in the few specks of light that poured through the canopy, and the long, white dress that trailed after them hazily shone like thousands of pearls.

As the figure strode up to the deer in the middle of the clearing, they stretched their hands forward, and the slender animal slowly turned around and walked over to them. The person caressed its head and sighed.

"Oh, Isabella," they cooed, lowering themselves to the ground, the deer following suit. "How I missed you."

This felt like a scene from a storybook as the deer laid its head in the figure's lap, encouraging the person to keep stroking its head. They sighed once more.

"Mother is nagging me again about that man. I don't even remember his name! We met only once, and that was back when we were mere children - why should we be expected to love one another if we don't have understanding of each other? Why should we be forced to go along with this?" The person's voice rose in pitch and volume little by little as they kept talking to their friend. "And why do we have to be so young? You know that elves get married when they come of age, which is still four years from now for me and him. Even Mother was married at twenty, so why shouldn't I be? Why should I marry at sixteen, and her at twenty?"

Gepard had never heard a deer whinny before, but now he knew that apparently it could happen.

"I'm sorry, Isabella," the person sighed. "You don't want to hear about any of this. I know I've been talking about it for several weeks now, but no matter how much I do, my situation isn't getting any better. I really wish that there was some sort of escape."

The deer in her lap whinnied again and sighed.

"No, I can't do that. They'd find me immediately. The guards are a nasty sort, they sneak and snoop around like bloodhounds. And even if I do manage to run away, where would I go? You know how the humans are, and the dwarves are even more suspicious of us. Living on my own isn't an option, either - I'd probably die within a week." They ended their monologue with a dry chuckle.

Gepard couldn't believe that this was happening. Was this an elf? Throughout his entire childhood he'd be told stories of the elves and how selfish and prideful they all were, and how they were deserving of death - but did this elf really have to die? What atrocities could they have possibly committed? What selfishness, or excessive pride, was housed in this individual's soul? Was it really necessary to kill this deer, which was obviously their close companion, and cause them more grief than they are already experiencing? He just couldn't do it. No, he'd find another, different deer, and spare these friends the sadness of losing one another.

A scrape of wood on wood sounded through the forest's relative silence like the crack of a whip. The elf and the deer turned their heads to Gepard's tree, behind which the blonde boy was trying to hide his now-lowered bow and hold his breath.

"Who's there?" cried the elf, standing up. The deer's ears were erect and alert as it listened for further noise.

Gepard looked to the hunters in the bushes a few feet away from him - they were exchanging panicked expressions and sending a few angry ones his way.

"Come out!" the elf called once more. They began to approach the tree with cautious steps, wading through pools of sunlight, bare feet anchoring them to the grass so they could spring back at any sign of danger. "I won't hurt you. I'm not armed, either, so please come out so that we can resolve this peacefully."

The last word that they uttered struck something in Gepard. Yes, peacefully - violence or staying put won't solve anything. If he were to keep hiding, the elf would discover him anyway, and no trust would be established to justify Gepard having a bow in his hands. If he were to come out, to present himself truthfully, then maybe the elf would pardon him and let him go. After all, they seemed kind, understanding.

To the absolute horror of his companions, Gepard stepped out from behind the tree, bow in hand. Their eyes met as the boy neared the elf, stepping into the light.

"I'm Gepard Landau, of Belobog," he trembled. "I was- I was hunting in this forest, and I saw your deer and I wanted to shoot it and then I changed my mind, and-"

"You what?"

"I changed my mind! I promise! I don't want to kill you or your deer, I swear! Please forgive me."

The elf's eyes narrowed in suspicion. A human, a creature which their mother and father had warned them about ever since they was born, was standing right in front of them, begging to let him go. They'd developed a special kind of hate for humans and their stink, their brutality, and their heartless, seemingly everlasting hunt. But their mother and father surely weren't right about everything - after all, they were set to marry not according to custom, which was something that their parents definitely wouldn't do under regular circumstances. Maybe they were wrong about humans, too, but they wouldn't take that chance just yet. But then again-

"I've been told that your kind is despicable and utterly disgusting all my life, and you come into our domain to kill our companions? It seems like my suspicions about you are correct."

Gepard was full-on shaking now. He dropped his bow and raised his hands up into the air. "I promise that I come in peace. I don't wish to harm you or your people."

"What about Isabella?" the elf questioned further. "You would've killed her if I hadn't come. Is that correct?"

"Yes," the golden-haired boy breathed. "Yes, I would've."

His honesty is... admirable.

"But if I let you go, you promise not to harm me or her or any of my kind?"

"Yes."

"Hmm." The elf tilted tilted their head up to look at the dark green canopy of the forest, closing their eyes. "I'd like to add another condition, however - let me live in your home."

Every single person's (and Isabella's) eyes widened in shock. The hunters' mouths were agape in pure, unadulterated surprise, and even Gepard couldn't help but stare at the elf dumbfoundedly.

"I- well, um-"

"I mean, it's fine if you don't," they replied hastily. "But I-"

And then chaos erupted.

The hunters sprung from the bushes, bows ready to fire at the elf and their companion. Their eyes were hard and steely and they were ready to pounce.

"Damn pointies!" one yelled. "Always shovin' their nose where it ain't supposed to be. You'll get a home alright - a home in the castle dungeons."

It was the elf's turn to be surprised. The deer stood protectively in front of them, blocking them from potential arrow fire, but the hunters weren't exactly merciful people. They ran to the figure, wrestling the elf away from the clearing as the deer tried to fight back against the attackers. The elf screamed, a desperate, saddening cry, before being shut up by the hunters, and at this point, Gepard felt he had to do something.

He tried to reason with the hunters, but to no avail - the elf had apparently insulted them, and they were set on punishment. The deer kept kicking, so the blonde-haired boy attempted to soothe it, saying that its friend will come back as soon as they could, and that he would help them reunite. The deer, after some minutes, seemingly understood Gepard, and with a quiet, lonely sigh, walked off to the tree where the figure first came from.

The elf was now being carried by the hunters in a stretcher-like fashion through the dense thicket of the woods, the familiar sounds of crackling leaves and the occasional rustle ambient. Gepard leaned to his side to whisper to his best friend, Dunn.

"Do you think they'll be alright?"

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