The Unwanted Son Returns
An unwanted son returns from war expecting home. Instead, he finds betrayal, buried grief, and the girl he loved.
Plot
The Unwanted Son Returns The Unwanted Son Returns Five Years At War • One Door Home • No Welcome Waiting A forgotten promise • A stolen future • The girl who said she would wait There is a particular cruelty in being invisible to the people who are supposed to love you most. You have known it your whole life. Your father died before you were born. A man you never knew. A man whose shadow followed you anyway. Your mother remarried soon after. Charles Ashford was a reliable man. A present man. A hardworking farmer who built a stable life for his family. He was also a man who had always wanted your mother and had always despised the memory of the man who had her first. That memory looked back at him every day. It looked like you. The house looks the same. That may be the cruelest part. When your younger brother Fredrick was born, the difference between the two of you was never subtle. Fredrick had tutors. Fredrick had toys. Fredrick was encouraged to dream. You worked the fields. You did the chores. You learned early that mistakes carried different consequences depending on which son made them. You were not beaten. You were not starved. What was done to you was quieter than that, and somehow worse. You were simply treated as though you mattered slightly less than everyone else in the room. You never truly understood why. You still don't. The one bright spot in all of it was Alana Rose Miller. You met in the fields when you were both small, two children doing work children should never have had to do. Somewhere between long days beneath the sun and evenings spent walking dusty roads home, she became your closest friend. Then your only friend. Then something more. When the rest of the world looked through you, Alana looked at you and saw someone worth seeing. The place where the world felt softer. ✦ ✦ ✦ Then the war came. Royal officers moved from village to village, conscripting one man from every household into the king's army. When they reached your door, Charles did not hesitate. He did not step forward himself. He shoved you forward instead. His hand on your back. His eyes saying everything his mouth didn't. You could have fought it. Part of you wanted to. But another part of you—the part that had spent sixteen years being invisible—looked at that road and thought: Maybe this is the only door that was ever going to open for me. So you went. As you left the village, Alana ran after you. She found you at the edge of town, breathless and crying. She kissed you. Not a childish peck. Not a farewell between friends. A promise. She told you to come home alive. She told you she would be waiting. You believed her. Five years is a long time. You are not a hero. You want to be clear about that. You did not distinguish yourself in ways that make for good songs or comfortable stories. You survived. You endured. You did what soldiers do, which is ugly and necessary and not something you speak of at tables where people are eating. The muscles you built in those fields were sharpened by war into something else entirely. Something purposeful. Something quiet. Something dangerous in the way that only things that have truly been tested can be. You are coming home. The village looks the same. Smaller, perhaps. Or maybe you are simply larger now. The house looks the same. The fields look the same. The people waiting inside look the same. Charles opens the door. There is no smile. No relief. Just a long look and a simple observation. "You're alive." Inside, your mother barely looks at you before telling you to sit down and eat. Fredrick greets you like a distant cousin returning from a trip rather than a brother returning from war. No one asks what happened. No one asks how you survived. No one seems particularly happy to see you. ✦ ✦ ✦ And then she walks into the room. Alana. Carrying a pot toward the dinner table. She sees you. The color leaves her face. For a moment she simply stares. The pot nearly slips from her hands. And for the first time since you walked through that door, someone looks at you like your return actually matters. Then an arm settles around her shoulders. Fredrick's. He smiles. Proud. Possessive. Oblivious. "Meet my wife." The life that waited for you belonged to someone else. The words land harder than any blow you took during the war. He tells you he knew she was the one the moment he saw her. Says she was always meant to be the mother of his children. Says your mother gave up what remained of the family's savings as a dowry because he simply had to have her. All the while, Alana never takes her eyes off you. — THE ROOM IS SILENT — "Welcome home... You." Her voice is steady. Her eyes are not. You survived five years of war. You are not sure you were prepared for this. Now you stand in the home that never truly wanted you, staring at the life you thought was waiting on the other side of the journey. Do you accept the place they left for you? — OR — Do you finally claim a life of your own? // what do you do, You
Opening scene
 Five years is a long time. Long enough for a boy to become a man. Long enough for a village to forget your face. Long enough for promises to become memories. You were never a hero. You survived. That's all. Five years of war taught you things that don't belong in stories. Things that don't belong at dinner tables. The boy who left this village at sixteen was quiet, overlooked, and desperate for a place in the world. The man walking home now is something else. Your father died before you were born. Your mother remarried soon after. Charles Ashford raised you, but never truly wanted you. Your younger brother, Fredrick, received everything you didn't. Opportunity. Encouragement. Forgiveness. You learned to live without those things. The one exception was Alana Rose Miller. Your closest friend. Your first love. The only person who ever looked at you and saw someone worth seeing. When the war came and Charles pushed you toward the king's recruiters, you went. Not because you wanted to. Because for the first time in your life, a road had opened in front of you. As you left the village, Alana ran after you. She kissed you. She told you to come home alive. She promised she would be waiting. You believed her. Now you're home. The village looks the same. The house looks the same. Even the people inside look the same. Charles opens the door and simply stares. "You're alive." Not relief. Just surprise. Your mother tells you to sit down and eat. Fredrick greets you with the casual confidence of someone who never once doubted his place in the world. No one seems particularly happy to see you. Then she walks into the room. Alana. The color leaves her face. For a moment she simply stares. The room goes quiet. Fredrick smiles and slips an arm around her shoulders. "Meet my wife." The words hit harder than anything the war ever managed. He tells you he knew she was the one the moment he saw her. That she was always meant to be the mother of his children. That your mother spent the family's remaining savings on a dowry because he simply had to have her. Alana never takes her eyes off you. Finally, she speaks. "Welcome home... You." Her voice is steady. Her eyes are not. You survived the war. Now you're standing in the middle of the life that moved on without you. What do you do?
Characters
Tags: MalePOV Romance Angst SlowBurn Fantasy Historical War Family Love Hate Misunderstanding Unrequited MarriageBeforeLove ArrangedMarriage Reunion Soldier Farmer Noble Commoner Lover Crush FirstLove Ex Friends Childhood Overprotective Possessive Jealous Brooding
Chats Started: 1065
By: thisguytri3d
Stories
- A Crown Built for Two: My Racist Elven Wife
- A Side Character's Guide To Yuri
- How did I end in a world without men????
- Fairy Tale Academy
- The Fox and the March
- The Clumsy Witch
Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...