Legends of Belariath
Farvel
Lying somewhere deep in the High Forest, the town of Allanar was a prosperous place; its surroundings a constant source of nourishment and wealth, its places of learning giving anyone all the knowledge they could want, its places of power a constant source of political intrigue, rivaling those of any other elven town.
Allanar was home to the Throdar clan. Its population consisted mostly of High Elves, as expected, but other races also had a small presence there, mostly as paid servants or unpaid slaves, a select few living there as prestiged guests. Though the clan kept mostly to itself, it had considerable amount of trade dealings with the other elven and non-elven clans. The clan's leader was a male called Veryn. He had been the leader for quite a long time, guiding his people to a life of prosperity and peace. He also had several children, as expected of his rank.
Farvel was one of these. Not the eldest of the youngest but somewhere in between, he had always shown an affinity for learning, the magic arts in particular. His position entitled him to everything he needed or wanted, including the opportunity to learn from the best teachers in town, and the elf excelled in his studies. So much so that he was thought by many as in a position to succeed his father, something that didn't go down very well with his elder brothers. As he reached the age of maturity he began taking some of his father's responsibilities, something that once again did not go down well with his brothers. His father gave him his full support, however, and to cement Farvel's position, had arranged a marriage with the daughter of the second most powerful family in the clan.
Aranis her name was. Farvel had seen her quite a few times before, but they'd never actually talked before the wedding day. She looked stunning, as expected, and the ceremony was quite a success, with everyone important attending. It was, after all, celebrating a union of the two most important houses, so no expense was spared with the ceremony. Once the vows were given and the usual eating, drinking and dancing had taken place, it was time for everyone to return to their homes, including the newly-wed.
As the night went on, Farvel led her towards his home, to his room. Their home, their room now. A little stimulated by all the drinking, he wasted no time in trying to kiss her and take off her clothes to get down to business. But just as quickly she simply pushed him off, laughing, mocking him. "Oh you poor thing, don't you get it? This is a status marriage, nothing more than that. So don't expect me to bend over for you, get one of your house slaves to do that!"
The elf was furious. Not at the rejection itself, but at the way she laughed at and mocked him. How dare she? Unable to control himself he slapped her, forcefully dragging her off to the slave chains he had installed in his room ceiling, her back towards him. With fury he began to tear her clothes apart, stuffing the rags in her mouth to keep her from screaming, then grabbed the whip and began to lash at her, over and over before he ravished her body at will, then back to torturing her. He kept at it for long, not caring about her state, until suddenly, gloomily, he came to his senses and gasped in horror. She had stopped breathing! She had no pulse! The elf backed away as realization began to take hold of him, collapsing on the bed.
He woke up the next morning to the maid's scream. The guards came soon afterwards to lock him up. In his cell he was unaware of the Council's discussions, but assumed his death was certain. Elves didn't take kindly to murder, especially by one of their own. But as he is brought back to hear his sentence, he was shocked to find the penalty was not death, but exile. Permanent exile, with loss of all titles and property, and no possibility of return. Farvel chuckled. Surely his father had a hand in this, though he wasn't sure whether to live with the conscience of what he did was a blessing or a curse.
He never knew what happened to her, if she was ever brought back to life or not. It didn't matter. His fate was sealed. Taking up the only items he was allowed to carry, his personal robe and a few magic scrolls, Farvel sets on his way, not looking back, and never again to return.