#ELF GIFS

[painted-flag]

OF FLOWERS AND DEATH - Aemond Targaryen

Chapter 6: A Snake in the Garden

☾⋆⁺₊✧ dark elf!Aemond Targaryen x f!human!reader series. ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series masterlist. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ word count: 3.3k (two fic posts in one day? booked and busy) ✧₊⁺⋆☾ series warnings: 18+ depictions of violence/gore, eventual smut, warfare, sickness/disease, some moments of misogyny, and mentions of alcohol consumption. ☾⋆⁺₊✧ not all of the elves are so welcoming, but sometimes anger can bring clarity.

It was early morning and the light from the fireflies and strung-up lanterns illuminated the garden you were in. It was located just outside your room and full of countless herbs and other plants that you needed to keep stocked in the laboratory. You had begun your routine of tending to patients, meeting with Lyra a little longer than most, and entered the laboratory when Daeron sent you on a mission to stock up some of the dwindling plant stores. You did not think how much you would miss gathering plants until you were set about that task again for the first time in many days. 

You were winding through the garden. All of these ingredients grew in little light but bloomed like nothing else. You relished in the ability to be away from work, while still completing a useful task. Your body went through the motions of cutting off leaves or stems when needed and placing them in their respective jars that sat in the wicker basket next to you. You hummed quietly to yourself, lost in your task. 

Like a cloud blocking the sun, a figure stood just behind your kneeled figure and blocked the light from the lanterns strung above. You ceased yourself from cutting a leaf from a plant and turned around. An elf stood, his eyes piercing you with simmering hatred. You recognized him from just a few short days prior. It was the same elf that had been walking beside Aemond when you passed him in the hall. His skin looked sunkissed, despite there being little sun that actually penetrated through the canopy of trees. His dark hair matched the darkness of the deep forest beyond the settled lands. 

He was altogether the embodiment of the elvish characteristic of beauty, but there was something wrong about the energy he gave off; it was almost predatorial. 

“Make any progress yet?” He spoke. 

Your face scrunched up in confusion as you rose to your feet, “What?”

“Is your kind so stupid as to not understand words?” The elf had his arms held behind him and he puffed out his chest in indignation. 

“I am merely confused by such a sudden question from someone I do not know.” You met his scorn with a tone of veiled aggression. He seemed to catch on to your attitude and it only angered him further. 

He looked you up and down with judgement, “Remember your place. You are nothing but an unwelcome guest, I am on the King’s council, Ser Criston Cole.” 

You held back a retort. He was obviously looking to anger you, for why would he even bother to stop and talk? You breathed in and out and remained calm. He would not get a rise out of you. There was no way you would further instil whatever ridiculous negative notions he had about your kind. 

“Oh, my humble apologies,” You presented a veneer of respect, though deeply despised it, “I spoke out of turn. Forgive me, my nature as a human must have gotten the better of me.” 

Criston seemed satisfied at your words, “A human and a woman. It’s a wonder you’ve risen to such a station.” He adjusted his posture to lean on one leg. You reached down and picked up the wicker basket of herbs and brushed at your skirt. 

“Princess Helaena honoured me with her advocacy so I may take up such a position.” You know you hit a nerve, for he could not rebuke what you said without inadvertently insulting the princess. A quiet huff escaped his mouth as the two of you stood there. You stared one another down, each silently challenging the other to strike first. 

“As if your knowledge can come close to that of the elves?” He challenged. It seemed as though he was not willing to give up the fight easily. 

“My father was an exemplary scholar whose research has led us closer than ever to finding a cure, Ser Criston.” Your voice slowed upon reaching his name, undercut with disgust. 

“Was?” He rebuked, “Maybe humans should stop trifling in matters that do not bother them, lest something unsavoury happens.” 

Criston’s words made you choke down any possible means to defend yourself. The mere mention of the possibility of your father meeting an unjust end had your stomach rolling. It was something that had been long toiling in your mind. He had been gone for so long, a part of you was relentless in coming to terms with the fact that he may not dwell on this earth anymore. The reminder of it - of the very real reality of it all - paralyzed your body. 

You compose yourself, “The taint affects the world. We all must work to stop it.” 

Criston then gestured behind him, his arm outstretched, in some kind of mockery, “Well, by all means, you must get on with it.” His mouth curled into a grin. You did not want to walk away with him having dismissed you. It felt like a surrender on your end, but truly you had no care to continue. He could think and act however he wished, but he would not have you lash out and further jeopardize your stay in the kingdom. 

You bowed slightly and walked around him. You knew he was staring you down as you left - there was no way he was not by the terrible dread you felt. It was with only a look that he could raise the hairs on the back of your neck. His gaze was predatory, in every sense of the word. He seeked to exploit you - for reasons unknown. You merely were nothing but a possible plaything to beat around and annoy. 

Once you knew you were out of his vision, you released your anger and stormed down the halls of the castle toward your study. Your hastened and heavy footsteps pounded against the stone like heavy rain. Who was he to question your merits? You were here, that counted for something. You knew that elves were naturally imbued with more wisdom - they lived so long it was no question. Perhaps, that wisdom did not translate to being smart. 

You already showed your prowess in knowledge. You had even beat Daeron at the progression towards a cure. One of your experiments worked - if only for a moment. That was something he and other elf healers had failed to do. You knew, despite your lack of experience, there was something in your mind that made you equal to them. At least, you hoped there was something there. 

You had arrived at your study and set the ingredients down before making haste to the library. If there was one place you could expect peace and quiet, it would be there. You had shut the door abruptly and marched in. Your feet took you from the ground level to the first level in the many balconies that encircled the inside of the tower. You were so lost in your march to cool down that you bumped into one of the shelves, making a couple of books tumble to the floor. 

A sigh escaped your lips. Everything had been building up inside after Criston’s desperate attempt at angering you - which unfortunately worked. Watching those books fall was like stones falling from a damn and you had no way of releasing that pent-up frustration. You knelt down to pick them up. One of the books, bound in dark black leather and detailed with iron bindings piqued your curiosity. You placed the other books back in their respective spots but carried the other one away. 

You made your way down to the ground floor where all of the tables were. Picking a spot in from of the centre fireplace, you sat down and opened the cover; forgetting all about your disturbed morning in the garden.

You were on a mission. The past few hours were spent scanning through the book you found. It was a tome on more unconventional plants linked to the use of dark magic. While a topic such as that would normally throw you off, you had decided there would be no harm in reading it. However, you did not expect to become so enraptured with the study and use of these bizarre plants. 

It was when you stumbled upon one plant that felt so familiar. The sketches on the side were well done with in-depth observations written down. It looked like the belladonna plant, but the flower was much darker. Mortua terra. That was the name inscribed to such a plant. It sparked an idea in your mind and that was how you now found yourself marching through the laboratory and into the sick hall in search of Daeron. At the end of the hall, by some of the grand windows, was a balcony where Daeron would settle to get some written work done in the encompassing environment of the elder trees and fireflies. 

The door was already open and you spotted your friend in a chair by a wooden desk, hastily scribbling down on a piece of parchment. A lone candle burned on the desk with a wax melter on top. You took a moment to take in the sight of the lit-up darkness around you and noticed the white stone settlements throughout the trees with elves going about their day. 

“Daeron?” You questioned. He halted his movements and looked up. When he spotted you, a friendly smile made its way on his face. 

“Do you need anything?”  

You placed the book down on his desk, and opened to the page on the flower you found. “I was wondering if I could receive an escort to get this plant. I think it may be of use.” 

Daeron inspected the page, reading the words. He flipped the book to the cover and read the title while his other hand keept his place in the pages. His face was a mix of curious and anxious. 

“No.” His tone was unnerved. Daeron closed the book and shoved it towards you. You picked it up and wrapped the book in your arms. 

“No?” You were both confused and disappointed, “Why?” You wanted a reason for his hasty dismissal of your suggestion. The whole time you had worked with him, he was always open to trying new ideas. Daeron was an elf who loved to expand his knowledge, so why was he so resistant to this?

“This is nearing dark magic,” Daeron reasoned, “That is not something one would wish to dabble in.” He picked up his quill and began to write again. 

“The taint is dark, right?” You steeled yourself to remain calm. You were steadfast in your position and would not waver. As with your last experiment that was almost successful, you felt the same deep need to pursue this one. 

“Where are you going with this?” Daeron shifted a pile of parchment on his desk. In the short time you had known one another, he could tell when you were gearing up to present an argument. 

“My last experiment involved the principle of poison against poison. It obviously did not work. But what if the taint is dark magic and not poison? Why can’t we use dark magic to fight itself?” The idea had come to you in the library as you flipped through the book. It came from nowhere but had taken root in your mind. 

Daeron stopped fiddling with objects on his desk. He rested his elbows against the surface and brought his hands together, “Do you know a single thing about dark magic?” 

“Admittedly, no, but-”

“If you did, you would know this is a dead end.” He cut you off. His shoulders were squared and his head was tilted slightly. 

You rested your hands on the desk as you leaned down to speak to him more clearly, “Daeron-”

“No, this is for your safety as well. That magic requires types of sacrifices I would not wish on anyone.” He spoke with such sincerity that you almost wavered. He was only doing it to protect you, but if you were truly honest, you cared little for your safety when it came to the possibility of finding a cure. What was a single life when compared to countless others? 

“Please,” Your voice whispered as the fireflies above seemed to fly more erratically, “I truly think we could have something here.” You did not wish to beg, but if that is what you must do, you will do it. 

Daeron looked into your eyes and folded. He hung his head down and nervously picked at his fingers, a habit you had seen Helaena do several times. His chest rose and he exhaled a long sigh, “I will think about it. If we get more desperate, then possibly, but you must understand what you are asking to do.” 

“Then help me understand,” You responded. Daeron looked around the balcony - as if searching for a way to get out of answering. 

He spoke your name with a sudden ounce of severity, “One day, but not today.” 

You stopped holding on to the desk and stepped back, taking the book with you. There was nothing but silence from the forest around and you could hear your own breath. Daeron went back to his work, dismissing you in a way that reminded you of Aemond when he dismissed you in the library. With the amount of similarities you started to find between the Targaryen siblings, you began to wonder about their childhood. Surely, if they shared such subtle characteristics, they had grown up quite close. 

With your dismissal, you left the balcony and walked back into the sick hall. You scanned the space and watched other healers aiding patients in their beds. You made your way down the aisle. You stopped at Lyra’s bed, wishing to possibly talk to her again, but saw she was in a deep sleep. Patients had difficulty sleeping after a few days of taint infection and it led to insomnia. If she was getting sleep, you would not dare disturb it. 

You decided it would be best to spend the rest of the - admittedly late - day in your room as opposed to the laboratory. With Daeron’s dismissal of your idea, it is not like you could pursue any experiment - for the mortua terra plant was the only idea you had come up with in the past few days. 

You were walking down the halls of the castle towards your room when the elf you wished to see the least seemingly appeared out of nowhere, “Make any progress yet?” Aemond’s sultry voice hit your ears, eliciting another wave of annoyance through your body. Out of all the damned halls in this castle, he had to be here?

His words were the exact same that Criston had uttered to you that morning. You began to wonder if this was some sort of coordinated attack. It felt like some sort of ruse to torment you, throw you off of your work so you would fail. You knew they likely wanted to see you fail. Regardless of your studies to cure the taint, they wanted a human to fail. If Criston’s words were to be taken seriously, why should they be bothering to throw you off? You were a human and in their eyes inferior. By that logic, there would be no need to exact such a mockery. 

The events of the day - Criston’s lecture, Daeron’s dismissal, and now Aemond’s taunt - folded over you. You turned to Aemond, dressed in similar attire that you usually see him in with his sword strapped to his side with his hand resting on the hilt like he was constantly prepared for a spontaneous fight. 

You plastered on a pleasant smile to show his tricks would not falter you, “Perhaps I would be making faster progress if some members of your council were not so intent on disturbing my activities, your grace.” 

Aemond moved his hands to connect in front of him as he looked you up and down - a habit he made in the rare times you two conversed. “Disturbing you?” You were further bothered by his response. He dared to pretend he did not know anything. An elf king, older and wiser beyond your years, believed that was a smart play? That you would not understand? 

“Whatever you and Ser Cole are trying to pull will not waver me or drive me off, your grace. I am here to find a cure, something that would greatly benefit both kingdoms.” You retorted. You wanted to find the fastest excuse to leave. Something about Aemond sent you mixed signals. His presence felt dark and foreboding, eliciting fear; however, a part of you could not help but feel lured in. It had to have been an elf characteristic - to be so pleasing. 

“No doubt it would benefit all,” Aemond responded, “I simply wished to receive an update.” You wanted to understand the hidden motive behind his words, for surely there was one. 

The book in your hand felt heavy, but you decided not to inform the elf king you had begun to pursue dark magic paths to a cure, “There is not much to talk about, other than the menial progress one of my experiments made.” 

“One of your experiments?” Aemond questioned. 

You wanted to leave - desperately - so you could continue your research and draft up a few plans for concoctions with the newly discovered plant. If you had solid plans, Daeron would be more likely to pursue that path. 

“I am in the middle of some important research, your grace. Prince Daeron can fill you in. He should be in the laboratory at this time of day,” You bowed to the king, “Good day, your grace.” You dismissed yourself and went back onto your path to your room. The familiar feeling of his eye on your back almost made you drop your book. You held it firm to your chest as you turned right to the hall with your room. 

When you entered your room, you placed the book on your table. Dinner had already been delivered to your room and you saw in the wood-carved chair. Next to your plate, you opened the book and began to reread many of the entries. You flipped to the page of the flower that absorbed so much of your attention. 

It grew in the dark depths of the elf forest, outside the boundaries of the settled kingdom. You leaned back in your chair in thought. Glancing out the window to the garden in front of you, you were overcome with an idea. It was stupid - beyond stupid. Risky, no doubt. 

If you were able to obtain a sample of the flower and brew a potion, that could perhaps persuade Daeron to consider following this course of action. You had permission to conduct your own experiments, technically the gathering of such a plant would fall in line with that. The only issue was the security. You had only just been able to get rid of the constant guards escorting you around the castle. Daeron insisted on it - as he felt it was nothing more than a hindrance when you needed to set about tasks. 

The rules set forth for you had been lax in the past few days, but security around the castle was still tight. It would be difficult for you to sneak out, but the risk seemed worth it. If your experiment was successful, there would be no need to fret over how it was done. 

It was a simple plan. Before the hours of the morning, you would move through the garden and out of the palace grounds. The garden by your window was the medicinal one, and only the healers ever went there. They would all be asleep, as would most of the castle. You closed the book and took a final bite of your dinner. The plan was settled. 

Tomorrow, you will venture into the deep dark woods.

Chapter 7: The Dark Woods Deep Preview

A low growl hummed through the stagnant air. A silhouette, large and imposing, moved towards you slowly. You could smell it before you could properly see it. The odour, foul like rotting meat, permeated the surrounding area. Your free hand reached up to block your nose, but by then it was too late. Bent down and hunkered, a beast of large proportions - larger than any you had ever seen - dragged its heavy claw-ridden paws across the exposed dirt of the forest floor. The upsticking roots of trees were met and marked with deep cuts. 

The beast's eyes were glowing yellow, flickering like the freed fireflies around you.

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[a-titty-ninja]

[filmgifs]

ELF (2003) Dir. Jon Favreau

[fancykraken]

#mood

[blighted-elf]

Dragon Age II - Merrill 1/?

[flowersandbigteeth]

Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!

This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^

I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* （￣ ｗ￣）Ψ

Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader

Word Count: 6K

TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing

“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 

The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 

“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 

“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 

The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 

“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 

He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 

“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”

The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 

“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 

Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 

“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 

The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.

“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 

“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 

“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 

The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 

“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”

He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.

“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 

“(Y/N).”

“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

You gave him a sharp nod. 

“I do.” 

He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 

“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 

He gave you a bright smile. 

“I do.” 

The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 

“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”

He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 

“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.

You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 

“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 

He chuckled.

“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 

He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 

He shrugged. 

“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 

You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  

“Maybe I should have let you die.”

Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 

“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 

You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 

“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 

You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 

“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 

“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.

His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 

“It won’t come off.” 

You nodded proudly. 

“Exactly.”

He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 

“Interesting,” he murmured.  

“What? What does that mean?” 

He smiled and shrugged.

“Lead the way, spouse.” 

You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 

“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.

“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 

He ignored you, looking around. 

“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 

You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 

“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”

You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 

“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 

He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 

“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 

Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 

“What are you doing?” 

He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 

“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”

Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 

“How long have you been living alone?” 

You blushed, embarrassed. 

“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 

“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 

You gave him an indignant snuff. 

“At least I’m not a thief!” 

He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 

“Hey! You stole that!” 

He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 

You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 

“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 

“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 

What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 

But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 

A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 

Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 

Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 

“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 

“Sit down,” you barked. 

A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 

“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 

You wrinkled your nose at him. 

“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 

He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 

“S-sorry,” you muttered.

“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 

You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 

He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 

“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 

“Why?” 

“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”

He sighed. 

“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 

Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 

“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 

He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 

“Thanks, doc!”

“I’m not a doctor.” 

He shrugged. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Ten years of special-”

You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.

“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 

“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 

“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 

He frowned. 

“No meat?” 

You blinked at him. 

“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 

He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 

When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 

“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 

“Why, trying to run off?” 

He smirked. 

“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 

He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 

“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 

Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

“A couple of miles in any direction.” 

“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 

You shrugged. 

“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 

He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 

Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 

“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 

You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 

“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 

“There’s a couch in the living room.” 

He wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s covered in stuff.” 

You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 

“I’ll clean it up.”

You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 

He patted your butt for emphasis. 

“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 

Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 

“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 

“They were going to kill you!” 

He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 

“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 

“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.

Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 

“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  

He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 

“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 

“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 

Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 

“Get in,” you said. 

Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 

“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 

You let out a long sigh. 

“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”

Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 

“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”

He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 

He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 

“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 

A long sigh slipped past his lips. 

“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”

Your mouth fell open. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”

He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 

“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 

“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”

He smirked. 

“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 

He pinched your chin. 

“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 

“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 

You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 

The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 

“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 

You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 

Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 

When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 

The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 

Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 

“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 

Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 

Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 

You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 

You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 

Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 

Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 

“Morning, spouse!” 

Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 

“What’s that?” 

He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 

“Meat!” he announced proudly. 

You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 

“Where are you off to?” he asked. 

“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 

A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 

You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 

“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 

A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.

“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 

“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 

Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 

“Saber! There you are!” 

She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 

When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 

“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 

You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 

“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 

She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 

“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 

Saber’s shocked face tightened. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 

She scoffed. 

“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 

His brow drew, looking between you and her. 

“What child?” 

She huffed, frowning at you. 

“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 

She turned to the carriage and yelled. 

“Nora, bring the baby!” 

A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 

Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 

“This…he…is mine?” 

Melody nodded. 

“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

He glanced up at her. 

“You want to get back together?” 

She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 

“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 

Anger roiled under your skin. 

“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 

She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 

“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”

She fluttered her iridescent wings. 

“It only need be a fairy child.” 

You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 

“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 

She glanced at you. 

“What do you want? Money?”

You let out a tight chuff. 

“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 

Her eyes jerked to Saber. 

“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."

She glared at you.

"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"

Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 

“Have you named him?” he asked. 

She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 

“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 

He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 

“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 

“But Saber-” 

“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 

You jerked your chin at her. 

“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”

Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 

“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  

Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 

“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 

He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 

You smiled at him. 

“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 

The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.

“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 

He looked down at you. 

“You won’t miss this place?” 

You sighed. 

“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 

“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 

You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.

“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 

He smiled down at you. 

“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 

He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 

“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 

You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.

“I thought you lost it gambling?” 

He shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

“Why did you keep it?” 

He gave you a long look.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 

“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 

“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.

I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 

He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  

“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 

His gaze dropped to the baby. 

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”

He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 

“What about Arel?” you asked. 

“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 

You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 

“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 

He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 

“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 

Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 

Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 

Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.

[razalorart]

Elledara my elf OC (2020)

[a-space-opera]

[gothslvt]

I make a cute elf🖤

[carlisle-cullen]

ELF 2003, dir. Jon Favreau

[stydixa]

ELF (2003) Dir. Jon Favreau

[a-titty-ninja]

[rohirriiim]

Elf (2003)

[teyoluna]

NES Zelda Redraw

[blighted-elf]

Dragon Age: Origins - Zevran in Camp

[bringiton]

🎄 25 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS → DAY EIGHTEEN 🎄 ELF (2003), dir. Jon Favreau "You sit on a throne of lies!"