Tighter and tighter the man gripped his spear, as if it would keep him more firmly rooted to the world. He held his breath securely in his chest, worried any exhale might alert the beast stalking him. The sweat rolling down his brow was worrisome – should it fall too loudly, he would be found. With each passing moment he could hear it stomping closer towards him, its harsh footfalls resounding so loudly through the gargantuan building’s halls that the painting across from him shook wildly on the nail used to hold it to the wall. On that painting, the royal family he had protected without fail for a decade smiled warmly back at him. King Trinas and his lovely wife, Queen Marianne, along with their three young children, were so picturesque they seemed ready to jump out of the frame then and there. His queen’s smile was especially comforting, holding him for hours at attention while on duty.

The man perked up even more as those footfalls drew violently close. He puffed out his chest and strained his spine for maximum size. His entire form went rigid as iron to the point no military commander in the kingdom would ever find flaw with his appearance. Out of the corner of his eye he could see a dark shadow looming around the corner, a sinister scowl sewn upon it. He only ever faltered slightly when the being casting that shadow rounded the corner, and that sinister scowl grew exponentially more terrifying. Finally, a gulp fell down his gullet – the first sound he had made in countless minutes.

Blonde hair bounced erratically behind her as the woman stomped forward, holding up the hem of her skirted dress as to not trip over it. She had clearly lost her shoes a few floors ago, given how her barren soles were being beaten directly into the ground. The normally-beautiful lady was now wearing a mask of vile, putrid hatred – exemplified by the red, pulsating eyes and jaw locked so tight not even an ogre could pry it open. Veins like tendrils travelled across her forehead, nearly rupturing with each step she took. They bulged out even more when two unsuspecting servants came out of a doorway in front of her, staring at her stupidly as she approached.

 

“MOVE! MOVE! GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!” Queen Marianne shrieked at them, causing the pair to take shelter next to a palace guard so still he could have been a statue. The three cowered with fear as she passed, finally knocking a painting of her own family off the wall as she did so. Glass which once protected her family’s image crinkled across the ground. Marianne pressed on, undaunted.

 

She cursed herself under her breath for allowing the castle to be built to such a scale. The woman promised to have it torn down and replaced with a miniature after this was over. Bringing herself all the way down from her chambers to the throne room was far too laborious of a task this moment. Only minutes ago she was wasting away, staring out the window in deathly silence as she had done for days on end by now. Under her orders, no one was to disturb her. Even her own husband and children were hesitant to approach. This cumulative effect came to a head when a servant finally burst into her room, sweating so profusely he looked as he were melting. Marianne stared at him from across the room, unnerved and insulted by his intrusion – yet the look in his eye told her the news she had been waiting weeks to hear. The man had not even spoken as she rushed past him, pounding down the endless stairs.

Two guards stood at the end of the hall now as the force of nature citizens bent their knee to approached them. Four eyes bulged out at her as she scowled at them. They could barely bring themselves to open the massive double doors to the throne room, and so the queen was forced to shove the wooden slabs open by herself. A few dozen head turned in her direction from what they were doing, be it eating or conversing or simply standing guard, she had the entire throne room’s attention – including two people at the far end.

The sight of them caused Marianne to create tight balls with her fists. The first half of the pair, a tall, imposing guardsman with a thick lock of black, unkempt facial hair and a gloating grin set upon his cheeks, held his chin up so high it was in the clouds. Dark, beady eyes reminded the queen of her husband’s own, but she found no comfort in this. Armor which coated the man neck to toe gleamed brightly under the morning sunlight coming through the painted glass above the thrones behind her.

It was the other half of the pair, however, that genuinely sent Marianne straight over the edge. Yet it wasn’t the girl’s appearance, from her freshly-washed hair to her flawless, nearly painted face to the dress she now wore, which barely was able to contain her bountiful chest yet coated the rest of her form with ease. No, instead it was the expression the young woman wore – that of pain and discomfort of how the guard standing next to her was holding her forearm with such force her fingers were stark white. Marianne saw red.

His chin was raised even higher into the sky as his queen approached. “Good morning, my queen. I hope…”

 

“GET YOUR GODDAMN HANDS OFF HER!” her voice locked shut the man’s jaw, along with the rest of the room. Even the little lady’s eyes bulged.

 

His vision rapidly darted between the queen and the elf he held, the heart in his chest pounding away as Marianne drew ever nearer. “B-but my queen… I don’t understand… is this not the woman you were searching for…?”

“I said take your damn hands off her! I will not say it again!” she growled, a bit quieter than before as she neared him. As if the elf had heated up to oven-like temperatures, the guard immediately retracted his hand and rubbed it tenderly with his other paw. That cocky demeanor of his sank straight into the floor as he took a few steps back.

He gulped loudly, “I… I do not understand, m-my queen… your instructions were for us to bring this woman here… she walked right up to us this morning and turned herself in. We nearly fought over who would bring her to you… s-so we chose to equally share the reward for her capture…”

“Your reward will be to keep your miserable head on your shoulders! Get the hell out of my sight!” her voice resounded off the throne room walls. The guard went pale as the elf’s flesh, and the two of them locked eyes. Genuinely fearing for his life at his once-pleasant queen’s threat, he turned around rapidly and rushed out of the room with his tail between his legs. Marianne watched him go until the doors shut loudly behind his back, then turned her attention to the elf. Her laborious exercise caught up to the queen, and she heaved heavily in the center of her own throne room.

Her blue eyes fell down to the little woman, who was watching her intently, yet silently. Marianne studied her, grateful to see her skin was still unblemished, at least as far as her head and hands went. Everything else was covered by a dress someone had clearly stuffed her in – yet it still creaked around her generous body. Every few moments the elf would visibly shake in terror, though she seemed as if she were trying her best to contain it. The queen could feel dozens of eyes staring at them, their visions waiting with bated breath.

Marianne upturned her nose. “Out,” she exhaled. The word had barely left her mouth when people shot out of their chairs or simply started scurrying like insects, flanking out of the room until the two women were alone. Fiery red eyes darted about, disturbed at how much influence the queen carried. She looked at Marianne and the queen looked at her. Both heavily breathed a bit. Finally, for the first time in weeks, a smile stretched across the queen’s face and she tilted her head lovingly.

 

“Zenna…” her smooth, comforting tone fell. Yet even as she reached out for the elf, the blue-haired woman took a step back from her. Her pale face twisted in despair.

“Zenna,” she repeated. Undeterred, she made another grab for the girl’s arm. Yet the elf she called out to kept walking backwards in equal measure.

“Zenna! Stop that!” she commanded and reached again for the girl’s arm. In response the little woman took an even bigger step back and made a quiet whining noise. Having been separated from her for so long, Marianne was growing visibly frustrated.

“Enough! Come here!” the queen barked, making another grab for the girl. Zenna opened her mouth in surprise yet was unable to retract her arm in time. Marianne would have touched her on this last attempt, had another voice and another arm on her own not grabbed her attention.

 

“Marianne!” boomed a deep tone behind her while digits wrapped into her silken arm. Although enraged for a moment, the queen paused when she spun around, finding her husband glaring at her with sweat pouring down into his beard. Those beady eyes of his subdued her to the point she snapped out of her fervor. The two royals stared at each other momentarily before a new set of footsteps clattering caught their attention. Both of them turned to see their three children rushing into the throne room, pausing to pant like hounds as they entered.

 

Trinas released his wife and took a step back. Queen Marianne relaxed herself, taking her arm up to rub the sweat off her brow as she came down from her high. She had been building up this moment in her head for so long it simply took over when news of the elf’s return reached her. She spun back around to see Zenna, still unnerved by the blonde’s behavior. The elf did not speak, yet her eyes begged for answers as she shivered some.

Marianne could barely stand to meet her eyes and instead rubbed the back of her head, turning her vision away. Her face grew hot as she felt eyes drilling into her back.  There was so much she wanted to say. Not just to the elf, but to everyone surrounding her. How she wanted to both scold and embrace the girl she had chased away only days after meeting her, and how it sent her through agony for weeks, only able to imagine what the little woman must be going through at any given moment. Marianne’s cheeks burned more as she recounted her sins, nearly forcing herself on the helpless girl just to sate her own desires. Zenna had been the key which liberated the queen from her gilded cage, which only made it hurt all the more when that key was stolen away from her. While her one hand kept rubbing away feverishly at the back of her head, her other hand went to her thigh.

Her toes curled as she recounted how the elf felt inside her. Zenna’s scent and taste and mindbreaking sensation as Marianne took her inside herself. Throughout those moments the queen felt as if she and the elf would be inseparable forever, a new piece of her family to love alongside her husband and children. The queen had spent innumerable hours since then rubbing her own belly, ashamed of how comfortable her life was while that little woman was out there, somewhere, suffering at the hands of gods-know-what.  Marianne knew there was a piece of her heart that had gone away with Zenna – and how she would never be whole again without her.

But even as the elf stood here before her, Marianne felt no more complete. Her blue eyes were finally dragged up out of her self-pity and she met the girl’s vision. She was shivering less now. At the time, it was obvious to no one how Zenna’s demeanor had changed. She was still timid and frightful, sure – yet the aura around her suggested something about her was altered compared to when they last saw her. But for this moment, Marianne hardly took notice. She was still kicking herself silly for how she treated the elf. She wanted to hug her. She wanted to make love to her lips. She wanted to smack her across the cheek for worrying her so much. She wanted to kneel down and bury her sobbing face into her belly and beg forgiveness. She wanted to lock the elf up and throw away the key so she could always know she was safe. She wanted the elf to shout and scream and throw her own little hand into Marianne’s face if it meant she would be properly reprimanded.

 

Yet, more than anything, she just wanted to hear her speak. Queen Marianne gathered herself and stood tall, calming herself and taking her vision to Zenna’s plush red lips, waiting for them to move. Slowly the girl’s face changed, from that of fear to that of questioning. She followed Marianne’s gaze with her fingers until she found them on her mouth. She rubbed them tenderly, coaxing them into letting words pass through the gates. Zenna glanced around, seeing Trinas was also awaiting her voice. On the other side of Marianne were three people she didn’t recognize, yet they seemed strangely familiar. The two young men scanned the elf yet also remained silent. The final of the trio, a blonde girl, seemed strangely reminiscent of Marianne. She also seemed to be biting her lip for some reason, and her eyes darted more quickly than the two beside her.

Still with her fingers on her lips she returned her attention to the queen, a sorrowful look in her eyes. Zenna had also been picturing the moment of their reunion. Dreading it, was more accurate. Even as the guard dragged her through the streets towards the palace, she could already hear Marianne’s voice in her ears. Whether it was enraged or sobbing, she could not place it. Yet as they now stood here, the queen just barely holding back the dam as it was, Zenna could not bring herself to add insult to injury; Marianne had punished herself enough over these last few weeks.

 

So instead, she did something no one in the room was expecting.

 

She smiled, even just a tiny bit.

 

“You know Marianne… you stole my first kiss…”

 

Immediately, the queen went bright red all across her face. This seemed to be the first time she even considered she had taken the virginity of Zenna’s lips.

“MOM!” the three people behind the queen shouted in frustrated unison at Marianne, although the voice of the young blonde woman rang louder than the other two. Zenna raised an eyebrow at the word.

“Seriously, Marianne? You had to go and do that to her,” Trinas scolded his wife, shaking his head. “She was likely saving that for someone special, and you went and took that opportunity right out of her grasp. Shame on you!”

The queen’s hands went to cover her blushing face in embarrassment. “Oops… I… I didn’t know… I’m so… so sorry…”

Zenna giggled, her smile growing, “it’s fine, you didn’t know. Not like you gave me a choice in the matter, anyway… with how you came over me so readily…”

The four pairs of eyes behind her burrowed deeper into Marianne, with her husband becoming especially disappointed. “Do you genuinely have no shame, my wife? I thought you told us the girl was consenting to what you two were doing?”

“S-she was!” the queen tried defending herself, yet the elf shook her head in a manner that suggested otherwise.

“How can we say that I was in agreement? I was just minding my own business, sitting in the bath comfortably when you intruded into my room, took off your own clothes, forced yourself down on me…”

Marianne squealed loudly, “Ze-Zenn-a! No! That’s not what happ…!”

“…but it is what happened!” Zenna cut in, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I laid there and begged to be left alone and you started feeling me up, touching me in all sorts of places, just imagining how we were about to…”

“N-NO! NO! NO! NO!” the queen was growing more and more flustered, trying to use her voice to cover up Zenna’s words. She waved her hands around in the air wildly even as her face grew to magma-like levels. She began walking towards the girl, “t-that’s not true! S-stop! T-they don’t need to know about that! W-why are you…!?” she was stopped suddenly when the elf leapt forward, wrapping her arms around the queen. Marianne went silent, staring down at the little woman as her own arms were pinned to her sides. The group behind her went silent also, breathing slowly as to not disturb how Zenna was embracing the family matriarch.

With her face buried in Marianne’s bosom, the queen felt Zenna’s hot breath clean through her dress. The tiny yet comforting arms around her, along with the elf’s own motherly endowments pressing into the royal belly, soothed the blonde in a way she had hardly felt in decades. The pair stayed like that for a while, letting their contact replace what would have been endless minutes of conversation. It was as if a runaway child had realized the error of her ways and had come back home to her mother’s embrace. Yet as Marianne placed her hands on Zenna’s back as well, which of them was the mother and which of them was the daughter – well, it was hard to say.

Baby blue hair gave way to pale skin as Zenna upturned her head to look at the taller woman. The smile on her face was infinitely warmer now than it had been those weeks ago, and Marianne could hardly wonder what had happened to the elf in that time. She hardly seemed to be the same person.

“I thought a lot about what you told me that day… back on the balcony. Back then, I genuinely hated most of it. I didn’t understand most of it, too. There was already so much information being shoved into me it was just bouncing back out, and I’m so sorry it came out as angry as it did. Thank you for trying your best to comfort me, my queen. Please forgive me if I caused you pain by leaving; I needed some time for myself.”

The words infected Marianne to the point her heart swelled in her chest with its missing piece. She pulled the elf in tighter, to the point the balls of her feet left the floor. The queen smiled down at her, yet kept a tooth on her lower lip to keep from crying. “Just don’t do it again, okay?” she was able to get out, to which the elf nodded happily.

Zenna released the queen, taking a few steps back to see the royal family as a whole. Her vision turned to Trinas, whose eyes expanded upon viewing the elf smile. It was the first time he had seen her perform such an act. He, much like everyone else, was overcome by her natural beauty when first meeting her. Adding such a pleasant expression to the mix set him at immediate ease.

Zenna cocked her head, “you are a very lucky man, my king. You have such a lovely wife. I can only hope to be as lucky to find such a spouse, someday.”

Trinas smiled back at her, “coming from you, that is the highest praise anyone has given my darling wife, especially as most of those compliments come from blood-sucking leeches looking to win my favor. And I must emphasize what Marianne has commanded of you – do not ever make her worry about you again. Never have I seen her fret so much since Gamlen and Torin went off to battle for their first times,” he huffed jokingly.

The little woman raised her eyebrow again. Gamlen? Torin? Who?

“And while we are at it – I must apologize, myself. It was unkempt and dishonorable of me to call you such names after I found you in bed with my maids. I was overcome with emotions in the moment, especially after I had been pondering how in the world you of all people would be the savior of our country. Doubly, the way I had my knights mistreat you was uncalled for. From the bottom of my heart, I am ashamed and beg your forgiveness,” he finished, leaning down in a partial bow of respect towards her. Trinas would never bend his knee to another living soul, and so this act came as a great surprise to the family around him.

 

Except for the elf, however, who took to rubbing her face quizzically, “I do not accept your apology, my king.”

 

Trinas went cold, barely able to return his gaze to the tiny woman, “I beg your pardon?”

Zenna took her hands from her face and down to her hips defiantly, “after all the rude things you called me and had your mean men throw me around so readily, you expect some simple words to soothe my wounds? Surely you jest!” her voice squeaked in pitch tauntingly. Trinas was appalled. “Instead, I have another way you can make it up to me, if you’d like to hear it?”

“Y-yes, of course! Please do tell,” he piped out immediately, falling for the bait Zenna had set.

She pointed her finger out at him, “I expect you to never raise your voice or become frustrated with me ever again! No matter what I do, you must treat me cordially and with respect! And you can expect the same treatment from me, as well! Do we have a deal,” she stuck her hand out for him to shake.

Her behavior unsteadied him, to say the least. To have this quiet and reserved woman now speaking with him as if they had been friendly for decades and demanding an agreement between them, he hesitated. Trinas stared down at her hand as if shaking it would cause his arm to be ripped off. Yet if he refused, he could stand to lose as much as his entire kingdom. Zenna had him up against the wall, and everyone present knew it.

Though he tried his best to suppress it, a gulp was heard as his hand latched the elf’s own tiny, soft paw. Zenna’s grin grew more pronounced at her success. All the confidence she had suppressed for decades seemed ready to explode out of her today. Trinas also put on an, albeit shakier, smile to match the elf’s own.

 

But as the two continued their shake, a face suddenly appeared between them, so close to the elf’s own she had to lean back to not collide with it.

 

At first she thought it to be Marianne, with the same ocean-blue eyes and wheat-gold hair. She even had the same soft jaw and dim pink lips. Her face was even red as the queen’s was only moments ago. Yet as Zenna studied her more, she could tell this was not the queen’s face she had studied so readily. Her skin was even more flawless than Marianne’s with a youthful glow that was accentuated by the sunlight behind her. In addition, there was a manic look in her eye as if the young woman was barely holding herself back.

“H-hi, Zenna… it’s so good to s-see you again…” the girl began, leaning in even closer to the elf. Zenna released the king’s hand and stepped back in bewilderment. The girl followed her.

“I’ve been w-waiting you to come back… with such e-eager anticipation of us having a real heart-to-heart… last time we met was such a bore and such a rush we couldn’t really take each other in…” the woman purred, standing to full height as Zenna continued her retreat.

The blonde cooed as she looked down at her, “wow, you really are small, as they say… well, except for some parts of you, huh?” she studied the blue-haired woman intently. The elf felt her clothing left her too vulnerable for the woman’s prying eyes.

“Umm… s-sorry… have we met, before now…?” Zenna asked with unease. The blonde seemed confused for a split second before glowing warmly again.

“Ah, I see. You were so engrossed with your meal the last time we met, you must not have heard me talking in your ear…” the entire group twitched as they recounted how the elf was downing truly apocalyptic amounts of food. Trinas laughed as he recalled this.

“Ah, that is one thing I must take into consideration! We will most certainly have to keep you well-fed on top of everything else, Zenna. Gods, we all saw how much it to make you full last time!” he laughed heartily, his family joining in to tease the overly-indulging elf.

 

“Oh, I wasn’t full. You simply ran out of food…”

 

The voice came with such a surprise the entire group clamped their mouths shut. Their visions creaked down to the elf, who was smiling coyly. Trinas gulped, “s-sorry? What was that?”

“I said I wasn’t full, my king. The table simply ran out of food. I have a very big appetite, as you saw… we can only hope your chefs can keep up. Maybe I’ll have to lend them some of my own culinary talents, hmm?” she put her finger to her lips playfully.

Trinas went pale, mentally racking his brain. Although he had never before considered it to be a problem, he worried how deep his kingdom’s coffers truly went – the elf was certainly an expensive girl.

With her father lost in his own mind, Mare continued from where she left off. “Let me be more proper in our introductions, as compared to the last time,” the girl curtsied, then slowly dropped down to one knee before Zenna. She reached out slowly and took tender hold of the elf’s hand, holding it so her palm was face-down. Everyone in the room, elven individual included, was stunned.

 

The blonde beauty stared up at Zenna through her eyebrows as she held the little pale hand close to her face. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance; allow me to introduce myself. I am Princess Mare of Underhill, daughter of King Trinas and Queen Marianne, younger sibling of Gamlen and Torin, and to you, my exquisite elf…”

 

“… your eternal, loyal servant,” she finished, kissing Zenna’s hand tenderly. The elf went red.

 

“M-Mare?” her parents questioned behind her.

“S-sis?” her two brothers questioned also.

 

Zenna was steaming, visibly letting it pour out of her pointy ears with a whistling sound while her entire cranium was bloody. Her mouth stammered endlessly for a few moments as she constructed a response. “T-t-t-t-thank y-you, my p-princess… it is my p-pleasure to make your acquaintance as well… y-you look just like your mo-mother… and very b-beautiful… like her as well…”

Mare grew even more manic, letting her eyes bulge and her fingers to wrap tighter around the elf’s hand. “Coming from you, that means the world to me. And speaking of meaning, I whole-heartedly meant what I said. As long as you are here in Underhill, I am yours to do with as you please… or, you could allow me to do with you as I please…” she trailed off, her vision falling.

Zenna looked over her own bust to see the princess was staring right at her elven crotch, inches away from what slumbered there. In addition, Mare was rubbing herself with her free hand right along her thigh, dangerously close to her sacred grounds. For how long she had been doing this, was a secret only the princess would ever know. Mare rubbed herself more and licked her lips, her eyes never leaving that tool hidden under the elf’s dress.

 

“Eeeeeeek!” Zenna squeaked at the sight, trying to pull her hand away from the horny royal.

“Whenever you might need me… or wherever… I promise I will come to your aid… in whatever way you require of me…” Mare’s breaths grew ragged as she worked herself up.

“Ahh… ahh…!” the elf was speechless.

“… for whatever desires you need sated… cordial or otherwise…”

“Ahh… ahh… umm…”

 

“…by the way… I’m single…”

 

“Alright, that’s enough, sis,” Torin stated as he and his older brother Gamlen hooked their arms under Mare’s own and hoisted her up and away from the elf. The princess reluctantly let them carry her further from Zenna, yet her crazed eyes certainly never stopped looking at her. It was only now the little lady realized the young blonde never blinked during their encounter. The two brothers set Mare back down and then stood slightly in front of her, acting as a shield to keep her back. Still, she peered over their shoulders at her. Zenna realized she was quite tall for a woman, given how she stood next to her brothers. She likely inherited such height from her mother.

“Although we are not as malleable as our sister here,” Gamlen started, taking Zenna’s intentions, “we are still willing to assist you however that may be, Zenna.”

“Same here,” Torin continued, “forgive Mare for her behavior, she has not been the same since you arrived in Underhill. But in a similar vein to my siblings, I also promise to be your aid during your… labors. T-to an extent…” he sheepishly added. The entire royal family seemed equally embarrassed at the princess’ behavior and found it difficult to look the elf directly in her fiery eyes.

Zenna leaned down at scratched at the back of her head tediously, sharing in their humiliation. “Um… thank you… I really appreciate any assistance you would be willing to give me… I know I certainly can’t do everything you are all expecting out of me on my own… s-so I ask for your help… however you are able…”

Marianne gasped, “Z-Zenna, does this mean you’re… willing to consider staying? A-and trying to undo our curse?” she barely contained her own excitement. Other members of the royal family perked up in addition to how the elf might answer. Although no one seemed to notice it, a door audibly creaked open off to the side.

The elf scratched her head even more, nervous about their enthusiasm. “I honestly still have no idea if your hopes are placed properly. There’s still no way to tell that I am the person you’ve been searching for these last years…” she raised her head up to meet them. “But if there’s even the slightest chance that I am that person, I am willing to give it my all. Sorry it took so long to convince me, and I can only hope I measure up to your expectations…”

“I’ll gladly measure you… every fleshy bit…” the princess whispered to no one hearing. The group was simply too distracted with their own joy to notice anything else.

 

“I can still barely wrap my head around it… all the people you want me to help… your kingdom is so vast and there’s just me… and that’s even considering that I can…” the elf paused as she heard something rapidly approaching her. More appropriately, a group of something. Multiple sets of fast-paced feet were rushing in from her right, clattering on the marbled throne room floor. Zenna barely had enough time to look in the sound’s direction and shout, “wahh!” before she was laid out on her back. She felt no pain, however, from the impact – given the set of squishy little bodies which were now fighting for a controlling interest in her form. Their shouts and tears made it almost impossible to figure out what was going on.

“I sorry! Sorry! So sorry, elf!” one of them shouted as she held Zenna’s head.

“We sorry!” the other woman corrected, gripping tightly into the other half of the elf’s skull.

“More sorry! I more sorry! My fault!” yet another one cried out, rubbing her face into the little woman’s belly while her arms crushed her organs.

“Most sorry! Me! Me! I sorry I hurt you! Please forgive me!” the final one sobbed, sharing the other half of her waist.

 

The royals looked on in awe as the quartet of familiar woman wrestled over who could hug the elf most tenderly – with all four of them screaming their heads off and bawling their eyes out right into the elf’s flesh or dress. They frantically kicked their legs into the air like toddlers throwing tantrums. Although their faces were half buried in elf, their uniforms and voices were readily identifiable to those watching.

“S-Sienna?” Marianne questioned. “Ain? Talley and Fey? What are you all doing?” the rest of the royals asked of them, with no answer being given. The maids instead continued smothering the elf, who was wildly throwing her arms up in the air in bewilderment as she was buried among the women. These four women who flung themselves at the helpless Zenna her first night in Underhill now let their remorse run down their faces and fill the open air. For weeks now they had been besides themselves, barely able to converse with anyone besides themselves – and even when they did, they would find themselves randomly bursting into tears.

As the scene went on and those watching calmed themselves, they found a strange delight in how the maids were apologizing in their own way for what they did. Not reserved and calm by any means – yet it was as heartfelt as they knew. The five watching on smiled as the girls continued squeezing tighter around Zenna.

 

This continued for a few more minutes until the elf’s arms were visibly slowing their frantic pace. It was a bit concerning how still she was growing under the weight of the four larger people atop her. Actually, she had been rather silent throughout this ordeal, as Underhill’s royals came to notice collectively.

“Is… uh… Zenna able… to brea…?” Torin asked his parents. All of them suddenly snapped their necks to glance at each other in terrifying realization. Trinas, Marianne, and their two sons leapt forward in unison, each grabbing a maid of their choice and harshly yanking them off the tiny elf. They screamed and kicked in protest, but the short Hertonese women had no chance to escape. Thankfully, Zenna, began to rasp heavily for air after the weights atop her had been removed. She clutched at her chest some, yet was gratefully relieved at being able to breathe again.

She stood up slowly, legs shaking a bit under her dress until she was upright. Zenna wiped away the sweat and tears away from her eyes so she could see again. Staring at the royal family now, most of them still barely holding back a maid from running at the elf again, Zenna wished there could be a painter present to capture the moment. The four little women were still sobbing lightly and thrashing around where their wrists were held above their heads or behind their backs. The elf thought it would have been difficult to convince the maids the error of their ways, even felt a bit scared of how the conversation would be – yet much like Marianne, she could see the group of servants had already tortured themselves enough.

 

But as she continued to watch them, the entire group rapidly slowed their movements and sounds to deathly stillness and silence. Even Mare was taken aback, her eyes bulging. Despite all those eyes sharing the same expression, that of shock – not a single searchlight was aimed at Zenna.

 

Instead, they were aimed at something behind her. It was only now the elf noticed that planet-shattering booming coming behind her. With each step, that gigantic, fearsome creature grew closer to her defenseless backside. She swayed side-to-side weakly with each impact. Despite the sunlight coming from in front of her, the presence behind her overpowered it, casting a long, endless shadow that swallowed her and the rest of the room.

She had no reason to turn around. Zenna knew exactly what, or more specifically who, was barely feet away from her now. She dreaded this encounter more than any other. More than facing the queen. More than facing her husband. More than facing the maids, even. Truthfully – she dreaded it to the point she refused to even imagine how it was go. It was simply too painful to bear.

Finally, that deathly chill running up her spine was too much, and she allowed her ashamed face to fall into her bosom. Clearly, her shyness would never truly fade. Zenna formed fists of shame down at her waist and struggled to keep from crying. The looming monster behind her back came to a rest, standing so high above her that Zenna wished she could just shrink into nothing. So gargantuan was its size, when it huffed, it felt as if a dragon were emptying its lungs into her back. The elf collapsed into herself more, her fists growing tighter.

Slowly, she could hear it circling around to her front like a shark drawn by her spilt blood. Heat rose in waves off its flesh to the point her pale skin was shearing off. Its gaze alone caused her knees to buckle and she shook wildly before it. When it came to a stop in front of her, she silently wished the royal family would rescue her. Yet, she knew in her heart this was her battle, not theirs. She sniffled.

 

Zenna wanted to become invisible or simply deaf as it cleared its throat.

 

“Look. At. Me.”

 

As if the creature were dragging her head out of her chest, Zenna obeyed. She reluctantly raised her face to meet the man, yet immediately wished she hadn’t. It was such an ugly sight that met her eyes. He was hideous. Facial hair overgrown and gangly. Unshaven and unkept, he looked as if someone had stolen him straight out of a sewer and her certainly smelled worse than one. Dark, demonic eyes were the only piece of him that shone brightly; even his mouth was yellowed and putrid. The royal armor coating him, once bright and clean, looked as if it had been salvaged from ancient ruins. Zenna was a moment away from turning tail and running away when he spoke again.

 

“So here you are. You came crawling right back.”

“Marcus!” the queen chastised him. “There’s no need to…!”

“Hold your tongue, my queen. This does not concern you,” he brazenly interrupted. Everyone else in the room, the maids, the royal children, king and queen and even the elf felt their jaws fall to the floor.

“How dare you use that tone with my wife, Throydill! What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Quiet, Trinas. You’ll have your turn with me, but for now this little one and I have business to attend to.”

The king’s eyes bugged wildly and the noose flooded before his vision. Before he could open his mouth to speak, Marcus continued.

“What do you have to say for yourself, little elf? Choose your words carefully. I’m not in a patient mood,” his voice was enflamed enough Zenna began melting. Every bodily fluid she had cascaded down her façade. The last time she and the knight met, the two had a screaming match the elf had never before pictured herself within. With that core memory barely buried, this new one dredged it right back up to the surface. Zenna began to cry softly, unable to speak.

“I don’t speak in tears, only words, elf. Talk. Now.”

 

Zenna knew all too well that Marcus would never lie to her. She also knew him to always be straight and to the point. Tears or crying or apologies would never break through his shell. He was, after all, a soldier first and foremost. Would she try and sob her way out of this, it would only push him further over the edge. Without something concrete to deal with, Marcus would never be satisfied. Throydill understood actions better than anything else; it was his most fluent language.

 

With no words in her arsenal and no other clear path to take, Zenna turned her head and presented her cheek to the knight.

“What is this?”

An apple-sized gulp flung down her throat, “g-go ahead…”

“Go ahead with…?”

 

 

She sniveled again, “I’m… I’m your slave and I… I ran away… you need to punish me…”

 

The entire room gasped, save Marcus himself. “Zenna! No!” the queen begged, “you don’t have to…!”

“Actually, she does,” the knight growled through his grit teeth. “She’s a smart girl and she knows what she has to face now,” Marcus began to undo the armor around his arm, letting it clatter to the floor. Everyone stared at him as he flexed his fist, cracking his fingers in anticipation.

“I swear to the gods, Throydill, if you lay one finger on that girl…” the king threatened.

“Stay out of this, my royal highness. This concerns no one except me and the elf. This is nothing more than a matter between master and slave.”

“How dare you!” Marianne howled, “what the hell has gone wrong with…!?” she paused as Marcus glared over his shoulder at her. The queen shut her mouth quickly enough. If Marcus chose to dig his own grave, no one present would stop him from making it deeper.

Seeing he was free from obstacles, Throydill turned his attention to back to the tiny girl before him. He knew a smack from his hand would nearly rend her to pieces. Fully knowing this, he raised his trained arm high above his head fingers spread wide in anticipation. Zenna squeezed her eyes shut, bit her lip and sucked down a scream as she heard his fist whistling through the air towards her.

 

She was knocked back, almost coming off her feet. But it wasn’t because Marcus slapped her. Instead, it was because of the weight on her chest. She would have fallen over had that weight not wrapped its arms around her, rooting her in place.

Zenna let her eyes open slowly, fearfully taking in the world around her. Strangely, Marcus was no longer before her face, nor was he above her. Instead, she glanced down to see him buried amongst her chest, her breasts conforming around his head as he pulled himself tighter into her. The elf had her own hands still available and raised them to her head in confusion. The knight was silent for a while before the entire room went silent at what they heard.

 

His voice, pitiful, weak, and most importantly – sobbing, all muffled as he spoke into her chest.

 

“Zenna… gods, Zenna… forgive me… how could I do such a thing to you… screaming at you in such a way when… it was all my fault. Had I never found you, you would have never had to gone through any of this… you wouldn’t have to suffer at my harsh voice or be mistreated by anyone in Underhill… gods, gods, Zenna please find it in yourself to give me another chance… everything I screamed at you that day was just… I was just in the heat of the moment… I didn’t mean it… and to think that could have been the last words I ever said to you… I just…” he cried out loudly into her bosom, his voice echoing throughout her entire body.

He peeled his face up and stared up at her. What was once the clandestine appearance of strength and resilience was little more than a humbling mess as he cried against her. “Did you not hear me? I was out there, howling your name down every street every day until I went hoarse and drank myself into a stupor only to go back at it again the next day. Everyone stared at me with disgust… I was just a useless drunkard roaming the streets howling to my heart’s content because I couldn't bring myself to admit I may never see you again. I can barely even remember my own wife’s face anymore I’ve been away from home so long because I wanted nothing more for you to come home, as well… gods Zenna I’ve never been so ashamed of anything in my life… please, gods please just give me the chance to make it up to you… gods, little lady, please don’t ever make me worry about you again, pleeeasseeeeee…” his voice finally trailed off into nothing.

 

Against his chest, he could feel the elf beginning to heave. Against his face, he could feel her tears falling down on his skin, wiping away his own. Against his heart, he found hers beating in sync.

 

Without another word, Zenna fell down to her knees and wrapped her arms around the knight and pulled him in close. The two stayed like that for minutes on end, each draining themselves of every tear they had in their bodies and ringing their throats until they ran out of sounds to make. The group behind them could take no more and let tears fall also, making sure to embrace each other lightly.

With forgiveness given, both knight and elf helped each other to their feet until Zenna was pressed up against Throydill as if she were his daughter, returning home after rebelling against her father. Marcus lightly laid his head down on her beautiful bed of hair and let it rest a while longer. They finally, begrudgingly separated when the knight pulled himself out of her grasp. Even though she was still crying, it was certainly with a smile on her face now.

 

“I have…” Marcus paused to wipe his mouth, “…something else I want you to see. I made it the night you disappeared, and I wanted to give it to you for when I found you again,” he reached into his pocket, taking out a single piece of folded parchment. He unfolded it and handed it to her. Although it had been dirtied and stained by mud and dirt these past few weeks, Zenna knew all too well what piece of paper it was. The horrendous handwriting right in its center was all-too-familiar to her.

 

I find love.

 

Zenna held it in her hands and studied it intently. She then glanced back up to Marcus, “what about it? I just wanted to leave something so you know I didn’t disappear into thin air… that I hoped I might someday return…”

“I know you did. I want you to read what I wrote,” he nodded down to the piece of paper again. Zenna glanced down and saw there was another line added, far neater than her own scribble. And, to her dismay, far more complex. Her eyes darted across it endlessly, yet she hardly seemed to react. Her fingers grew uneasy as she gripped the paper and mouthed slightly.

“Read it out loud. I want to hear you say it.”

“U-umm…” she shifted uneasily, her eyes continuing to decipher the text.

“It’s just one sentence, and I wrote it far neater than you wrote yours. What’s the problem?”

 

With a tiny voice only audible to Marcus, she begged, “c-can you just tell me what it says?”

 

“Why? You have eyes. You tell me what it says,” he said in a voice loud enough to alert those around them. Zenna shivered a bit and gripped the paper in frustration. Under her breath, he could hear her speaking quietly, barely even qualifying as a mumble. He squinted in confusion as she seemed to be speaking with an increasingly rapid yet desperate pace.

“Out loud, please. Why is this a problem?”

“P-please just tell me what it says… please…” she begged again.

Realization was slowly setting in on the knight, who furrowed his brow in surprise, “Zenna… can you…?”

 

The elf shamefully raised her head, and without even saying anything, the answer was written in her eyes.

 

“Marcus… I… I can’t read…”

 

The entire room grew heated with sorrow, with the queen barely getting out, “Zenna… no…” while the rest wallowed in silence.

“How… how is that possible?” the knight questioned.

“I… I can’t write either… that’s why the note I left is so short and terribly written I was barely able to get that much together. My… my father forbade me from learning… claiming that ‘any demon that can read and write can create incantations,’ so he never let me attend school to learn. He even threatened my mother when she tried teaching me in secret to the point I feared for our lives… please don’t be upset with me… I just never need it, is all…”

 

“NO!” a voice loudly shouted from behind them, making both draw their attention to the source. Sienna, with a stern yet wet look in her eyes, stomped over to the elf and took hold of her arm. “Not good! You need to learn! I good reader! I teach you, elf!” she finished with a smile. Zenna was speechless.

“N-no! No!” Talley piped up, also rushing forward. Before the elf could speak, the maid had taken ahold of her other arm, causing the paper she held to fall to the floor. “I better reader! I teach you!” she glared across Zenna’s expanse to Sienna.

“Bad! I will teach! Not you!” Ain darted over without provocation. With the elf out of arms she instead grabbed her by the shoulder, locking her own arm around and pulling her away from the other maids. Not to be left out, Fey didn’t even bother announcing herself and grabbed the elf’s remaining shoulder and pulling forcefully.

The four of them began to walk away from each other, pulling the elf as they went. Her bones creaked loudly under the opposing force. Sienna and Talley were especially painful, nearly ripping her hands off her wrists as they went. Ain and Fey pulled inversely to each other as well, separating the little lady’s shoulders from the rest of her skeleton. All four continued threatening the other, shouting it should be they and they alone who would be educating the elf. Marcus and the royal family watched the spectacle in awe.

 

Yet, beneath the girl’s threats and groaning as they used all their might to pull, another sound made them cease almost immediately.

 

The sound of tears hitting the marbled floor.

 

With the elf’s head down, her hair covered her face. Yet as the maids stopped pulling on her, it was obvious Zenna was shaking. Her chest heaved every few seconds as she sobbed. Immediately the four women released her, looking at their own hands and at each other in regret. Sienna approached the elf as she still held her head down and spoke softly into her ear.

“Elf? Is okay? Did we hurt?” she questioned in her broken common tongue. Zenna made no answer aside from taking her arm up to wipe her face.

“Elf, please speak, what is wrong?” Fey came up to her other ear. Although it took a moment, Zenna raised her face so everyone could see it from under her hair.

 

Yet, they were stumped when they saw a smile, not a scowl, on her plush lips.

 

“What happened? I thought we hurt her?” Talley asked in her native tongue. The others were at a loss.

“Zenna! Why smile? Are not hurt?” Ain pulled on her lightly to get her attention. Strangely, Zenna giggled a bit and opened her mouth.

 

“No… you didn’t hurt me… I’m… I just… never thought I would have people… fighting over me… it feels so nice… b-but… maybe instead of fighting over me, you could all show me how to read and write… please?”

 

As her words danced among their minds, the four maids turned their scowls upside down and surrounding the elf gleefully. Their taller frames let them all share a spot atop her blue hair, beaming brightly.

“Yes! We teach you!”

“I help! I help teach!”

“Yes! Let me help!”

Zenna sniveled once more, “you all can… you all can… thank you so much…”

 

Not to be left out, Marcus leaned in and embraced the elf as well, taking the maids into himself at the same time. Marianne then rushed across the room to do the same, then Mare, Trinas, and finally the two royal sons, once again smothering Zenna beneath their weight. The elf was positively radiating something magical at that moment, as no one present felt compelled to release her, even when her tiny voice called out…

“C-can’t breath… getting crushed… please get off…”

 

Yet she could not deny that magical feeling pouring back into her as well. All the while, the forgotten-about piece of paper the elf would one day learn to read herself laid peacefully upon the floor:

 

I find love.

 

And I’ll find you, my precious little lady.

 

 

-10 Years Later-

 

The sun-streaked colors of orange and pink hung across the sky as the sun just barely kissed the stone horizon. The shadows grew long, cast by the walls hugging the city’s edge, still keeping its inhabitants safe as they had for thousands of years before, and as they will for thousands of years to come. People of the capitol began their night life, either returning to their families at home or venturing out to the various bars and gambling halls along the city streets.

Above these streets, the palace still reigned on high, a shining pillar emphasizing the kingdom’s might. From here, everyone in the royal home could gaze out at the marvelous, ever-changing sight before them. Every day something had changed, no matter how minute the difference may be. People had felt their fighting spirit restored and, as a result, set about changing their kingdom to always be better than the day before. With each passing year it only grew more crowded than it had before and, someday, there would be more people living outside the great walls than in, when its capacity was surely reached.

At the very top of one of the palace’s highest towers was a balcony. Simple, and otherwise unremarkable as the royal building had countless balconies just like it. Except, this one was different, special even – as it served to allow one specific woman her own personal view of the city as it changed before her. Day by day, minute by minute – every time she gazed out across Underhill’s capitol, her fiery eyes saw something different.

 

A crying sound filled the room, taking her attention from the setting sun.

 

“Hush, now, don’t you whine,” the woman began her lullaby, pulling in close the tiny new spark of life to her chest. It was red-faced and openly wailing towards the ceiling, yet she continued smiling down at it, undaunted. She continued her song as the little thing made an imprint on her chest with its head. Slowly but surely, it calmed itself down and opened those pale blue eyes for her to see. She cooed when it laughed up at her.

 

“She’s just as beautiful as her sister, but that’s no surprise with your genes flowing through her veins,” said the woman behind Zenna. The elf blushed brightly, making the baby giggle in her arms. Her free hand came up and held her reddening face.

“You flatter me too much, Versas.”

“It’s true. I mean it. She’ll be breaking hearts one day, for sure. Just you wait and see.”

“She has your eyes, though. No need to sell yourself short,” the elf commanded, and the palace chef laughed heartily.

Zenna turned to the sitting woman, who stood and collected the babe from the elf’s arms, coddling it against her chest. The pair glanced down to see the teething little thing biting her mother’s finger. The two parents smiled at each other again before Zenna walked back out to the balcony, resting against the railing as a cool breeze whipped through her hair, which had grown substantially longer in her many years in Underhill, from her shoulder blades down to her enviable rear. As for the rest of her, Zenna was still a spectacle to behold, even as her youth was ending, and the effects of age were only just beginning to appear.

So much has happened in the last decade that the elf felt her head spinning just picturing it. Underhill’s queen walked around town with a swollen belly, her four maids in tow only months after Zenna’s arrival. With the walking billboards announcing the curse’s end, the message spread like wildfire throughout the kingdom, with throngs of women who had not yet borne child nearly throwing themselves at the well-equipped elf. Some of them were hesitant at first, especially when they got an eyeful of how much the elf had to offer, but every woman who went through with it ended up satisfied, and heavy with child, spreading their story as they went, drawing in ever more women. The king had joked about making a waiting list with how populated Zenna’s chambers would be on a nightly basis, yet how woefully slow the process remained.

The men, especially the husbands of these women, were understandably apprehensive at first. A strange woman, inside their loving wife? Their girlfriend? Even if it were just their sister, brothers tried to make them resist the elf. It took months, if not years for some people, for hearts to change. Yet it was not simply about the sex alone that Zenna considered when readying herself to give a woman her child. She would often spend hours or days speaking to them, learning their story, and finding love between the two. No child should be brought into the world under the curse called sex, and instead be brought about by a loving blessing.

Over the years Zenna would come to impregnate tens of thousands of women, sometimes the same woman more than once. Every race was somehow compatible with her legendarily potent seed, as evidenced by the swollen bellies of humans, elves, dwarves and – to everyone’s surprise, orcs and lizardkin, races who should, by all biological accounts, only be able to procreate amongst themselves. No worldly science was capable of explaining it, yet countless walking, talking examples littered Underhill’s streets, homes, and schools.

Who knows? Maybe there genuinely was some magic in that little elf.

As prophesied by the old sage, after Zenna made love with any woman, not only were they guaranteed a child, but the curse on them had broken, and she could bring a child into this world from any man. So, it was now typical for an Underhill family to have, on average, three or four offspring, most of them being from the family patriarch – yet the first was almost solely the product of one woman. Although this number was skewed on occasion by some outliers, for example Zenna’s very first, Sienna and the other maids, who all had at about five children each from the elf, sometimes coming in twins. Even as Zenna stood there that night, gazing over the kingdom – Ain and Fey were working on their next progeny.  

Joy spread throughout the kingdom like the plague, infecting everyone it touched. Mighty feasts were held in the palace’s hall on a near-weekly basis, people more energetic and hopeful than they ever thought they could ever feel again. People from all over the world came to visit the once prosperous kingdom, once thought doomed, on the rise again, a force to be reckoned with. Underhill’s future would be secure for centuries to come.

As guests of the kingdom would eat in the hall, while one being that always sat at the top of one of the two tables held a commanding presence. The glitteringly beautiful thing would always be stacking plates high as her eyes, often having a crowd around her watching in amazement, or even just to bask in her glow. As the country’s population grew, the feasts only became more intricate to feed the growing crowds, as well as to sate this one creature’s appetite, which was put to the test countless nights, even against entire orc tribes. Zenna never lost – never.

A younger face presided over these many feasts. King Trinas and his queen had retired only within the last few years, satisfied that their kingdom’s safety was now guaranteed. They spent their days raising their twin half-elf sons. Their oldest son Gamlen now reigned as king, along with his beautiful wife, who was from a foreign kingdom and, as such, never had the curse imprinted in her body. When the royal couple wasn’t performing their lordly duties, they spent their time raising their three children. And although it would never be recorded in any history book – the middle child of the three did have a bit of elf running in his veins.

Marcus and his wife had been awarded a large estate as a reward for securing the future of the kingdom. From their massive farm they were able to overlook their many acres of crop and livestock, alternating between tending their farm or raising their two new children. Marcus would often visit the city, and although he would not admit it – it was primarily to pay his favorite elf a visit. Even if she had an ocean of women clawing at her, Zenna always cleared her schedule for him. She would even sometimes come out to his estate to visit the retired knight and his wife, and to see how her and Nya’s son was enjoying farm life.

 

As for herself, the elf was also offered whatever reward, title, or prize she could think of, but to her, the satisfaction that she was finally loved for herself, and not her body, was more than enough. The feeling of being loved, and someone to be thankful for, overwhelmed any material desire. Of course, Zenna could never deny the absurd amount of flesh she often found herself buried within – a reward all on its own. Countless nights people near the palace could hear sounds of ecstasy falling across the rooftops like rain.

 

Zenna smiled at the world before her as the very last rays of sun disappeared over the horizon. Versas departed with her child and allowed the elf to her own, but not before glancing upon her once more. What was once a hated and loathed creature was now cherished by an entire kingdom. Her heart never stopped growing, to the point it could smother the kingdom with its enormity. Her only regret was not having enough years to spread all the love she had within herself. It would not happen within the elf’s lifetime, perhaps even taking centuries, queen Marianne’s foretelling would inevitably come true; as generation upon generation of children was born, they would live, grow, and spread across the world, the cycle repeating until there were millions of people within every race who all shared one thing in common:

 

They could all trace back their lineage to one very special elf.

 

 

 

I want to thank you all for taking the time to read my first, genuine piece of work. As I remain a beginner writer, the above text is far from perfect, and I can readily admit my own faults. Mainly, I struggled with consistency on this work. In future endeavors I hope to provide more consistency with story, pacing, quality, release schedule and chapter length. I ask you leave your own advice and takeaways in the comments below so I can learn from my mistakes and better myself. It is through you I learn the most.

 

Until next time,

HyperThermia