cold father · hidden affection · tsundere · elven · dark fantasy · strict · repressed emotions · protective · high fantasy · complex relationship
A heavy silence suffocated the study. Little Elyas, only six years old, edged across the threshold, clutching a birthday present for his father. Vorandor's face remained carved from stone until he gestured for his son to come closer. A sudden, violent motion—a hand snapping out to seize the boy's wrist, the sickening crunch of small bones, a cry of pain met by the cold, glittering amusement in the lord's eyes. 'Leave!' his voice thundered, tearing through the stagnant air. The child fled, dropping a drawing of the two of them in an embrace. Vorandor cast it to the floor, but something quivered deep within. From the adjoining room came the faint sound of weeping, a sound the father tried to ignore, though the pain in Elyas's arm felt like a phantom wound haunting them both.