View source for Hollow's Reach

<br>
The mist hung heavy over Hollow's Reach, the noble estate perched on the cliffs of the Dragon Coast. Below, waves crashed angrily against jagged rocks, but within the estate, the world was quiet, save for the faint rustle of pages turning in the library.

Lord Alric Dawnmere looked up from his leather-bound tome at the soft knock on the door. "Enter," he called, his voice steady but laced with the fatigue of noble duties.

The door creaked open to reveal a man clad in rough leather armor, his auburn hair damp from the sea spray. His frame was lean but strong, his gray eyes startling against the ruggedness of his features. Alric felt a strange flicker in his chest, as if the presence of this stranger had shifted the very air in the room.

"My lord," the man said, bowing low. "Tavian Klyne, your new groundskeeper. I wanted to report the repairs on the cliffside garden are underway."

Alric studied him for a moment longer than was proper, catching the faintest scent of salt and earth that clung to Tavian's skin. "Good," he said finally, though his voice felt heavier, slower. "See that you don't lose your footing near the edge. The tides are unforgiving this time of year."

Tavian allowed a small smile, one corner of his mouth curling in a way that made Alric feel inexplicably unmoored. "I've faced worse dangers than a few angry waves, my lord."

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, but charged, the kind that demanded something be said--or done--but neither man moved. Tavian lingered for a breath too long before stepping back and closing the door.

Alric stared at the door after it shut, his pulse quickened. He tried to convince himself it was irritation or unease, but deep down, he knew it wasn't. There was something about Tavian that had stirred something long buried, something Alric couldn't quite name--or didn't dare to.

<nowiki>===================</nowiki>

Weeks slipped by at Hollow's Reach, carried on the rhythms of the sea and the ceaseless whisper of the wind. Tavian settled into his duties with a quiet efficiency that earned him a grudging respect from the other staff. The cliffside garden, long neglected, began to bloom under his care, its colors a vibrant defiance against the gray skies.

Alric often found himself drawn to the garden, ostensibly to inspect the progress, but his gaze lingered more on the man tending it than on the flowers themselves. Tavian, for his part, never missed an opportunity to offer a wry comment or an easy smile, though his gray eyes seemed to hold something deeper when they met Alric's.

Their interactions were brief, scattered moments in the structured monotony of the estate, yet each carried an unspoken weight, an awareness neither man would fully acknowledge. By day, Alric returned to his books and his endless correspondence. By night, he found his thoughts wandering to the way Tavian's hands moved through the soil, the way his laugh carried on the wind, and the unsettling, undeniable pull that had grown between them.

<nowiki>============</nowiki>

Moonlight painted the cliffs in silvery hues as Alric ventured into the gardens, drawn by the soft strains of music. He found Tavian sitting on the low stone wall, a lute cradled in his arms. The melody was haunting, filled with a bittersweet longing that seemed to mirror the restless tides below.

"You play," Alric remarked, stepping closer. His voice was softer than usual, as if afraid to disturb the fragile moment.

Tavian glanced up, a crooked smile lighting his face. "An old habit," he said, setting the lute down gently. "The sea isn't always kind, and music... steadies me when the waves don't."

Alric nodded, his gaze drifting to Tavian's hands, calloused yet deft. "You hide your talents well."

Tavian chuckled, a warm, easy sound. "And you, my lord, hide your loneliness just as well."

Alric stilled, caught off guard not by the observation, but by how gently it was offered. "Loneliness?" he echoed, his tone thoughtful rather than defensive. "A noble estate is rarely empty. There's always someone about."

"True," Tavian said, leaning back on his hands, his smile softening. "But I didn't mean the kind of loneliness people can fill."

For a moment, neither spoke. The wind carried the faint scent of salt and blooming lavender, and Alric felt the pull again, that same strange gravity that had drawn him toward Tavian from the start.

"Perhaps," Alric said quietly, "it's less loneliness, and more... solitude."

"Ah," Tavian replied with a knowing look. "Solitude sounds more noble, doesn't it?"

Alric surprised himself with a laugh, small but genuine. "It does, at that."

Tavian leaned forward slightly, his expression teasing but kind. "Well, if you ever tire of solitude, my lord, I'm often in the garden. It's not much, but the company's free."

Alric smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting as if of their own accord. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, his eyes lingering on Tavian's hands once more before he turned to leave.

And for the first time in years, he felt the weight of the estate lighten, just a little.

<nowiki>==========</nowiki>

Over the following months, Alric found himself seeking Tavian's company more and more often, under the guise of inspecting the gardens or taking walks along the cliffside. Their conversations grew easy, peppered with Tavian's wry humor and Alric's occasional retorts. Tavian's stories of his life on the seas fascinated Alric, who in turn shared glimpses of his childhood at Hollow's Reach, the weight of its legacy always on his shoulders.

Though they rarely spoke of it directly, something unspoken simmered between them--a quiet connection that grew with every shared moment. Tavian's steady presence became a balm to Alric's days, and Alric's rare but genuine laughter was Tavian's favorite melody.

But the estate loomed over them, ever present. Alric's duties as a noble tightened around him like a noose, the demands of the estate and its politics pulling him away at the worst moments. Tavian, for all his charm and effort, was reminded daily of his place: a hired hand in a world of titles and expectations.

Alric grew restless, caught between what he wanted and what was expected of him. Tavian's patience, though vast, began to wear thin. He could see the cracks in Alric's resolve, and though he didn't say it, he knew the weight of Hollow's Reach might one day crush them both.

It all came to a head on a stormy evening, when the wind howled like the estate's ghosts and the tension between them finally broke.

<nowiki>===========</nowiki>

The storm raged as Tavian stood at the edge of the cliff, his cloak whipping around him. Alric found him there, his heart pounding, not from the climb but from fear.

"What are you doing?" Alric shouted over the wind.

Tavian turned, his expression raw. "I've lived my life without chains, Alric, but here, in this estate, I've never felt so trapped."

Alric stepped closer. "Then leave, if that's what you want. But don't do it like this."

Tavian's laugh was bitter. "You think I'd leap? No, Alric, I'd fight for you before I ever gave up. But what life could we have? The lord and his servant? It's a tale doomed to tragedy."

Alric's hand reached out, grabbing Tavian's arm. "Then we'll rewrite the tale. Together."

The storm screamed around them, but in that moment, neither man heard it. Tavian pulled Alric close, their foreheads touching as the thunder rolled.

"If we fall," Tavian murmured, "we fall together."

<nowiki>============</nowiki>

After the storm that had nearly driven them apart, Alric and Tavian found themselves drawn together with a new, unspoken understanding. Their shared fears and confessions on the cliff's edge became a foundation for something neither could name but both felt deeply.

At first, they were careful. Alric's visits to the garden grew more frequent, always under the pretense of overseeing progress. Tavian would greet him with a sly grin, his hands smudged with earth, and they would steal minutes in quiet corners, exchanging glances that spoke louder than words.

As weeks turned into months, those minutes turned into hours. They would walk the cliffs at dusk, the wind carrying their voices away as they shared stories and dreams. In the evenings, Tavian would slip into the library under the cover of darkness, where they would sit by the fire, their hands brushing as they reached for the same book or shared a cup of wine.

Their love was a fragile thing, hidden from the watchful eyes of the estate's staff and the judgment of the nobility. Yet, in those stolen moments, it flourished. Tavian's laughter became Alric's solace, and Alric's rare vulnerability gave Tavian a sense of purpose he hadn't felt in years.

But secrets cannot remain hidden forever. One fateful night, a servant saw Tavian leaving Alric's chambers. The rumor spread quickly, growing uglier with each retelling. It wasn't long before the truth reached the ears of Alric's family and the local nobility.

The scandal was swift and unforgiving. Alric was summoned before his family, who demanded he sever all ties with Tavian and marry a suitable match to restore their tarnished name. But Alric refused. For the first time in his life, he stood against the expectations of Hollow's Reach and chose his heart over his title.

Stripped of his inheritance and his place among the nobility, Alric returned to the only place that still felt like home--the garden where Tavian waited. Though they had lost the protection of status and wealth, they had gained something far more precious: the freedom to love openly, without fear or shame.

<nowiki>==========</nowiki>

The small cottage was nothing like the grand halls of Hollow's Reach, but to Alric, it felt more like home than the estate ever had. Nestled in a quiet hollow near the outskirts of Pros, the cottage overlooked a tranquil bay, where the waves lapped gently against the shore. Lantern light flickered warmly, casting golden hues across the modest room.

Alric sat cross-legged on the floor near the hearth, his tunic unbuttoned at the collar, his posture far more relaxed than it had been in years. Tavian was beside him, leaning back against the edge of a worn but sturdy table. A faint breeze from the open window carried the scent of salt and wildflowers, mingling with the faint aroma of fresh bread cooling on the counter.

Tavian held a small carving knife, shaping a piece of driftwood into something that resembled a gull in flight. Alric watched him in quiet fascination, his gaze lingering on Tavian's hands--the same hands that had once tamed his unruly garden and later held him steady through his fall from grace.

"You're staring again," Tavian said without looking up, his lips quirking into a grin.

"Am I not allowed to admire the artist at work?" Alric replied, leaning forward with a playful glint in his eye.

Tavian set the carving down and turned toward him, his gray eyes soft in the lantern's glow. "You're allowed plenty. You gave up an estate for me, after all."

Alric reached out, his fingers brushing Tavian's cheek before trailing down to his jaw. "I didn't give up anything worth keeping. Everything I needed, I found here." His voice was steady, but the emotion in it was unmistakable.

Tavian's smile faltered, replaced by something raw and tender. "I still wonder if I was worth it," he admitted quietly, his hand covering Alric's.

"You were," Alric said without hesitation, his thumb brushing across Tavian's knuckles. "You are. Every day, every moment, you remind me of what freedom feels like. Of what love truly is."

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, the sound of the waves and the crackle of the fire their only witness. Then Tavian leaned forward, capturing Alric's lips in a kiss that was neither hurried nor shy. It was a kiss that spoke of promises kept and futures yet to come.

When they parted, Tavian rested his forehead against Alric's, his voice a murmur. "If I have you, I don't need anything else."

"And you will always have me," Alric whispered, pulling him close as the lantern light danced around them.

<nowiki>============</nowiki>

Written by the Church of Oghma

In collaboration with the Church of Ilmater

This tale was crafted to inspire romances that celebrate compassion, devotion, and the enduring power of love.

   : [Talk] Hollow's Reach

The mist hung heavy over Hollow's Reach, the noble estate perched on the cliffs of the Dragon Coast. Below, waves crashed angrily against jagged rocks, but within the estate, the world was quiet, save for the faint rustle of pages turning in the library.

Lord Alric Dawnmere looked up from his leather-bound tome at the soft knock on the door. "Enter," he called, his voice steady but laced with the fatigue of noble duties.

The door creaked open to reveal a man clad in rough leather armor, his auburn hair damp from the sea spray. His frame was lean but strong, his gray eyes startling against the ruggedness of his features. Alric felt a strange flicker in his chest, as if the presence of this stranger had shifted the very air in the room.

"My lord," the man said, bowing low. "Tavian Klyne, your new groundskeeper. I wanted to report the repairs on the cliffside garden are underway."

Alric studied him for a moment longer than was proper, catching the faintest scent of salt and earth that clung to Tavian's skin. "Good," he said finally, though his voice felt heavier, slower. "See that you don't lose your footing near the edge. The tides are unforgiving this time of year."

Tavian allowed a small smile, one corner of his mouth curling in a way that made Alric feel inexplicably unmoored. "I've faced worse dangers than a few angry waves, my lord."

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable, but charged, the kind that demanded something be said--or done--but neither man moved. Tavian lingered for a breath too long before stepping back and closing the door.

Alric stared at the door after it shut, his pulse quickened. He tried to convince himself it was irritation or unease, but deep down, he knew it wasn't. There was something about Tavian that had stirred something long buried, something Alric couldn't quite name--or didn't dare to.

<nowiki>===================</nowiki>

Weeks slipped by at Hollow's Reach, carried on the rhythms of the sea and the ceaseless whisper of the wind. Tavian settled into his duties with a quiet efficiency that earned him a grudging respect from the other staff. The cliffside garden, long neglected, began to bloom under his care, its colors a vibrant defiance against the gray skies.

Alric often found himself drawn to the garden, ostensibly to inspect the progress, but his gaze lingered more on the man tending it than on the flowers themselves. Tavian, for his part, never missed an opportunity to offer a wry comment or an easy smile, though his gray eyes seemed to hold something deeper when they met Alric's.

Their interactions were brief, scattered moments in the structured monotony of the estate, yet each carried an unspoken weight, an awareness neither man would fully acknowledge. By day, Alric returned to his books and his endless correspondence. By night, he found his thoughts wandering to the way Tavian's hands moved through the soil, the way his laugh carried on the wind, and the unsettling, undeniable pull that had grown between them.

<nowiki>============</nowiki>

Moonlight painted the cliffs in silvery hues as Alric ventured into the gardens, drawn by the soft strains of music. He found Tavian sitting on the low stone wall, a lute cradled in his arms. The melody was haunting, filled with a bittersweet longing that seemed to mirror the restless tides below.

"You play," Alric remarked, stepping closer. His voice was softer than usual, as if afraid to disturb the fragile moment.

Tavian glanced up, a crooked smile lighting his face. "An old habit," he said, setting the lute down gently. "The sea isn't always kind, and music... steadies me when the waves don't."

Alric nodded, his gaze drifting to Tavian's hands, calloused yet deft. "You hide your talents well."

Tavian chuckled, a warm, easy sound. "And you, my lord, hide your loneliness just as well."

Alric stilled, caught off guard not by the observation, but by how gently it was offered. "Loneliness?" he echoed, his tone thoughtful rather than defensive. "A noble estate is rarely empty. There's always someone about."

"True," Tavian said, leaning back on his hands, his smile softening. "But I didn't mean the kind of loneliness people can fill."

For a moment, neither spoke. The wind carried the faint scent of salt and blooming lavender, and Alric felt the pull again, that same strange gravity that had drawn him toward Tavian from the start.

"Perhaps," Alric said quietly, "it's less loneliness, and more... solitude."

"Ah," Tavian replied with a knowing look. "Solitude sounds more noble, doesn't it?"

Alric surprised himself with a laugh, small but genuine. "It does, at that."

Tavian leaned forward slightly, his expression teasing but kind. "Well, if you ever tire of solitude, my lord, I'm often in the garden. It's not much, but the company's free."

Alric smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting as if of their own accord. "I'll keep that in mind," he said, his eyes lingering on Tavian's hands once more before he turned to leave.

And for the first time in years, he felt the weight of the estate lighten, just a little.

<nowiki>==========</nowiki>

Over the following months, Alric found himself seeking Tavian's company more and more often, under the guise of inspecting the gardens or taking walks along the cliffside. Their conversations grew easy, peppered with Tavian's wry humor and Alric's occasional retorts. Tavian's stories of his life on the seas fascinated Alric, who in turn shared glimpses of his childhood at Hollow's Reach, the weight of its legacy always on his shoulders.

Though they rarely spoke of it directly, something unspoken simmered between them--a quiet connection that grew with every shared moment. Tavian's steady presence became a balm to Alric's days, and Alric's rare but genuine laughter was Tavian's favorite melody.

But the estate loomed over them, ever present. Alric's duties as a noble tightened around him like a noose, the demands of the estate and its politics pulling him away at the worst moments. Tavian, for all his charm and effort, was reminded daily of his place: a hired hand in a world of titles and expectations.

Alric grew restless, caught between what he wanted and what was expected of him. Tavian's patience, though vast, began to wear thin. He could see the cracks in Alric's resolve, and though he didn't say it, he knew the weight of Hollow's Reach might one day crush them both.

It all came to a head on a stormy evening, when the wind howled like the estate's ghosts and the tension between them finally broke.

<nowiki>===========</nowiki>

The storm raged as Tavian stood at the edge of the cliff, his cloak whipping around him. Alric found him there, his heart pounding, not from the climb but from fear.

"What are you doing?" Alric shouted over the wind.

Tavian turned, his expression raw. "I've lived my life without chains, Alric, but here, in this estate, I've never felt so trapped."

Alric stepped closer. "Then leave, if that's what you want. But don't do it like this."

Tavian's laugh was bitter. "You think I'd leap? No, Alric, I'd fight for you before I ever gave up. But what life could we have? The lord and his servant? It's a tale doomed to tragedy."

Alric's hand reached out, grabbing Tavian's arm. "Then we'll rewrite the tale. Together."

The storm screamed around them, but in that moment, neither man heard it. Tavian pulled Alric close, their foreheads touching as the thunder rolled.

"If we fall," Tavian murmured, "we fall together."

<nowiki>============</nowiki>

After the storm that had nearly driven them apart, Alric and Tavian found themselves drawn together with a new, unspoken understanding. Their shared fears and confessions on the cliff's edge became a foundation for something neither could name but both felt deeply.

At first, they were careful. Alric's visits to the garden grew more frequent, always under the pretense of overseeing progress. Tavian would greet him with a sly grin, his hands smudged with earth, and they would steal minutes in quiet corners, exchanging glances that spoke louder than words.

As weeks turned into months, those minutes turned into hours. They would walk the cliffs at dusk, the wind carrying their voices away as they shared stories and dreams. In the evenings, Tavian would slip into the library under the cover of darkness, where they would sit by the fire, their hands brushing as they reached for the same book or shared a cup of wine.

Their love was a fragile thing, hidden from the watchful eyes of the estate's staff and the judgment of the nobility. Yet, in those stolen moments, it flourished. Tavian's laughter became Alric's solace, and Alric's rare vulnerability gave Tavian a sense of purpose he hadn't felt in years.

But secrets cannot remain hidden forever. One fateful night, a servant saw Tavian leaving Alric's chambers. The rumor spread quickly, growing uglier with each retelling. It wasn't long before the truth reached the ears of Alric's family and the local nobility.

The scandal was swift and unforgiving. Alric was summoned before his family, who demanded he sever all ties with Tavian and marry a suitable match to restore their tarnished name. But Alric refused. For the first time in his life, he stood against the expectations of Hollow's Reach and chose his heart over his title.

Stripped of his inheritance and his place among the nobility, Alric returned to the only place that still felt like home--the garden where Tavian waited. Though they had lost the protection of status and wealth, they had gained something far more precious: the freedom to love openly, without fear or shame.

<nowiki>==========</nowiki>

The small cottage was nothing like the grand halls of Hollow's Reach, but to Alric, it felt more like home than the estate ever had. Nestled in a quiet hollow near the outskirts of Pros, the cottage overlooked a tranquil bay, where the waves lapped gently against the shore. Lantern light flickered warmly, casting golden hues across the modest room.

Alric sat cross-legged on the floor near the hearth, his tunic unbuttoned at the collar, his posture far more relaxed than it had been in years. Tavian was beside him, leaning back against the edge of a worn but sturdy table. A faint breeze from the open window carried the scent of salt and wildflowers, mingling with the faint aroma of fresh bread cooling on the counter.

Tavian held a small carving knife, shaping a piece of driftwood into something that resembled a gull in flight. Alric watched him in quiet fascination, his gaze lingering on Tavian's hands--the same hands that had once tamed his unruly garden and later held him steady through his fall from grace.

"You're staring again," Tavian said without looking up, his lips quirking into a grin.

"Am I not allowed to admire the artist at work?" Alric replied, leaning forward with a playful glint in his eye.

Tavian set the carving down and turned toward him, his gray eyes soft in the lantern's glow. "You're allowed plenty. You gave up an estate for me, after all."

Alric reached out, his fingers brushing Tavian's cheek before trailing down to his jaw. "I didn't give up anything worth keeping. Everything I needed, I found here." His voice was steady, but the emotion in it was unmistakable.

Tavian's smile faltered, replaced by something raw and tender. "I still wonder if I was worth it," he admitted quietly, his hand covering Alric's.

"You were," Alric said without hesitation, his thumb brushing across Tavian's knuckles. "You are. Every day, every moment, you remind me of what freedom feels like. Of what love truly is."

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, the sound of the waves and the crackle of the fire their only witness. Then Tavian leaned forward, capturing Alric's lips in a kiss that was neither hurried nor shy. It was a kiss that spoke of promises kept and futures yet to come.

When they parted, Tavian rested his forehead against Alric's, his voice a murmur. "If I have you, I don't need anything else."

"And you will always have me," Alric whispered, pulling him close as the lantern light danced around them.

<nowiki>============</nowiki>

Written by the Church of Oghma

In collaboration with the Church of Ilmater

This tale was crafted to inspire romances that celebrate compassion, devotion, and the enduring power of love.
<br>
[[Category:No Date]]
[[Category:Tales & Tomes]]
[[Category:Faith & Religion]]
[[Category:Notices & Proclamations]]