A SLAVE BOY FOR THE ELVEN LORD
By
Lilith Kinke
SMASHWORDS EDITION
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PUBLISHED BY:
Lilith Kinke on Smashwords
A Slave Boy For the Elven Lord
Copyright © 2012 by Lilith Kinke
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The grounds were draped in finery, but that was the least of the grandeur. The realm’s best party enchanters had been called upon, and every statue, decoration, and patch of ground was magicked for maximum entertainment and splendor. Lord Auren looked on approvingly as he observed the stone dragons come to life and battle in a spectacular row, bursting into fireworks at the end, raining fires of light down over the trees below.
The talk of the realm was his party and he was planning on it staying that way long after it was over. He adored the attention from the public, and threw amazing parties at least four times a year. Any occasion was a good occasion, but this day was very special. The trumpets burst into fanfare as he entered to announce the beginning of his birthday bash.
“Oh, how beautiful everything’s been!” A lady cooed at him from behind her elaborate fan after he had finished his speech and entered the floor to socialize.
The gorgeous and empty-headed nobles were already boring him, but he nodded, pretending to care a little.
“We were simply faaaascinated by the fountain in the front, however did you get the idea?” one noble twittered loudly.
Lord Auren sighed, but answered. The party did seem to be going well, and the rich were all properly impressed. He had gotten no less than fifty compliments on his elaborate suit, created of golden orb weaver silk, sewn in intricate patterns. Unlike any kind of human equivalent, where the spiders would need to be milked day by day and the cloth sewn from the threads, his were created by the spiders themselves, spinning magically fast, making it much lighter and stronger.
“It’s a mortal thing,” he said, turning to face the questioner, “They create these little, tiny chocolate fountains to dip their mortal food in.”
He used his hands to show just how small they were, then motioned back at the 20-foot tall gold fountain pouring tons of melted elven chocolate down in waves. Everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed. Lord Auren knew that these would be everywhere next week.
Elves were so uninventive, he thought to himself. If there’s one thing those mortals were good for, it was creativity. Long life had its price, and new ideas was one of them. Still, copying first was almost as good as originality, and he was known for it.
“A gift for you, my lord,” a servant elf said, interrupting their conversation. “Lord Bythron sends his regards.”
He held out a small bauble. Lord Auren accepted it, and he backed away, bowing.
“What is it?”
People began to crowd around, to see what it was. He held it up in the air, and when it caught the light, it reflected an entire scene of woodland around them. But it wasn’t just a reflection, but it played sounds and movement too. It was beautiful.
He gave it to another nearby servant, who promptly took it away.
“A toy,” he said, clearing uninterested.
It was the last of many gifts this day that he had been less than impressed with. A singing mechanical bird? An enchanted sword that would never lose? Boring. He was tired of toys and baubles and things. It was his eight hundredth birthday, and you’d think someone would care.
Just as this thought entered his head, someone threw open the doors of the large hall, silencing the entire gala. A younger noble, Lord Felkreth, entered with something, or someone, behind him. He marched slowly up to Lord Auren with confidence.
“A gift, lord,” he knelt, prompting whispers from around the hall.
Lord Auren could now see that he held a beautiful young mortal male on a delicately jeweled chain. He was very young, couldn’t be more than 18 mortal years. He was also gorgeous, with dusky, dark skin and beautiful green eyes.
“Thank you,” he said graciously, accepting the offer.
He indicated that the younger Lord should stand. He stood, clearly relieved by the positive response, though he tried to hide it behind his confidence.
“He is of incomparable quality, my lord,” he explained loudly, “Stolen at the height of his youth. I thought he would make a befitting gift.”
Lord Auren nodded, clearly pleased. He would reward this gift handsomely if the mortal turned out to be as... good as he looked. His eyes traced the strong jawline of the boy approvingly. He patted the curly hair and took the chain.
“Well done.”
The words echoed across the hall and everyone resumed conversation, gossiping about what kind of waves this would make in the social circles. It was rare that anyone got so fine a gift. Mortal children were often taken, but once they were secured, they ceased to age, so to gather such a fine, mature mortal was much more difficult.
Lord Auren’s fingers curled gently around the jeweled chain, and he motioned that the mortal should sit on the floor next to him. Prompt to act, his body language was exceedingly submissive, and this pleased Lord Auren. He ran his fingers through the silky curly hair and thought about what he might do with him later. He felt his loins stir and felt more alive than he had in centuries.