Date: Tue, 6 May 2014 12:02:48 +0000 From: Beau Fryer Subject: The War of Elves and Men Well it's been over four years since I've been in the world and I have loved being back! I will be writing much more regularly now you have my word. Now basic disclosures apply, over 18's only and please bear in mind that although this book will feature erotica it is more story based than masturbation led! If you have any comments/suggestions or random abuse feel free to email me at Beaufryer@hotmail.co.uk Enjoy! `Oh Elstar please stay out for just one more, I beg you' said Orodreth, he tugged at Elstar's arm then gestured with his free arm to the long avenue just behind them, laughter and music spilled onto the wide street, invitingly, it sounded a world away from the closeness of the royal box in the opera where they went for quick tumble as it was one of the few places he could go without a chaperone. Elstar looked longingly at the palatial coach ahead of them, it promised safety and sobriety and it's just out of reach, the glass guard smiled as he opened the door, the smile reminded him that it's almost midnight. `Well I really should be getting back to the palace, maybe we could continue there?' said Elstar as he gently pulled away Orodreth, he risked a side-glance and briefly caught his polite smile as he turned away, it didn't look like the pearly genuine smile that he usually got. `What back to that stuffy old place? Where's the fun in that?' said Orodreth as if they were going back to a morgue. The palace although not lacking in comfort or entertainment was always there, it was far too big to go anywhere. On reflection Elstar realised that he hadn't been out like this in ages, he felt kind of thirsty come to think about it. `If you want to go back to the palace that's fine, I suppose I could just carry on by myself' Elstar was suitably impressed, if he was to admit to any weakness then he'd probably say that he's plagued by fierce bouts of FOMO or as the rest of the world would say Fear-of-missing-out. He knew that if he went to the palace then Orodreth would brag about how much fun it was for the next week or so and he'd be bored in the palace wondering just how much fun he'd missed out on `I guess we could stay out for a little while' said Elstar as he leaned into him with a suggestive smile. Orodreth nodded and said It'd be rude not to' `It's just that well you've seen me in some deplorable states' he though back to the Festival of the Fae, when he'd promised to be back at midnight like a good prince but somehow, despite his noble intentions he ended up stumbling in at the crack of dawn, missing a shoe and trying to grope one of the more attractive footmen; Elvish Festivals are potent and can do that to even the most respectable of people or so he'd been told after. `I'll look after you, on my honour' said Orodreth and Elstar felt his hand being gently squeezed, all he could think was `Wasn't that what you said at the festival before egging him to drink copious amounts of that honeyed wine that the foreigners were guzzling like water' nevertheless he squeezed his hand and smiled. `Oh alright then, just the one' he beckoned over the glass guard who opened the coach door, tonight's chaperone. He quickly told him that they were going to frequent some of the bars down the West End, a long avenue long famous for its decadent bars, ruinously priced drinks and the downright debauchery of its patrons. The guard answered with small sharp nods and shouted a few words to the coach driver. They didn't have far to go as the opera house was foolishly/strategically situated at the junction of the legendary West End. The spacious avenue was lit by the countless illuminated bar signs and suggestive advertisements that must have cost a small fortune to get a wizard to do, that said they charged enough for the drinks. One of the bars looked good, it understood architecture reasonably well and nailed the essential three C's of a good building columns, cornices and costly marble. The gold letters above the door said The Old Library, Elstar surmised that it sounded nice enough and pointed to his chaperone `In there looks pretty good' he had to shout to be heard over the live music pumping from the venue. Inside it looked well like an old library turned into an alchemy shop; with all the massive bookcases fully laden with interesting bottles safely thrown to the back of the building and protected by a bronze bar that was under siege by a healthy crowd. He waited in the line patiently as his fellow patrons ignored the cue and pushed in front at the slightest opportunity. Elstar kept his chin high and glared at the bar-elf whenever someone pushed past him, the glare screamed `What are you going to do about this' and the bar-elf's impassive face said `Nothing' he was jabbed in the ribs by a short elf who decided to wear his beverage instead of drinking it. ` `S happy hour you know?' the damp creature treated him to a conspiratorial wink. `Ah. . . Um. . . Thank you, I will remember that' said Elstar, what did he mean happy hour? He forced a smile; if it's happy hour then it's probably best to look happy he reasoned. `Are you okay? You've gone red see' slurred the little beast who pointed at his cheek. He looked at Orodreth for support but the man looked just as lost, he gaped like a feasting whale. His chaperone and saviour muscled in and took them to a table, it was apart from the other tables and a velvet robe reminded the masses to keep away. Orodreth returned with a bottle shaped like a skull, then he realised that it was in fact a skull, covered in gold leaf. `What in blazes is that thing?' gasped Elstar as he pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. `It's a drink, the most expensive one they have' replied Orodreth trying to mimic the skull with a demonic grin. He proceeded to put two crystal cut tumblers on the table, each one sounded strangely angelic as it hit the wooden table. `Well in that case it's brilliant' replied Elstar as he poured for them. They clinked glasses and chugged, Elstar swallowed hard and forced it down his throat. His first sensation was relief, it wasn't that bad! The second was a cold burn that tasted of cinnamon and peppermint as he exhaled; it was beautifully refreshing he could drink it all night. . . . The skull hit the floor and smashed, it was as dry as a bone. `Oops' giggled Elstar as he fumbled with the fragments, he hoped it wasn't real bone but he was beyond caring. Orodreth was in the bathroom, most likely vomiting all over the place; that boy can't handle his liquor. His chaperone took the fragments of his hands carefully, he was then gently but firmly escorted back to his seat and his request for more drink fell on deaf ears. He was considering bribing the guard but thought better of it. Orodreth returned with a waxen pale face and glazed shiny eyes. `Time to go home little prince' said his chaperone as he easily carried Elstar like a small child, his armour was as smooth and illustrious as opals, Elstar placed his forehead on his shoulder, it was wonderfully cool and kept the throbbing in his head at bay. The coach was there not four feet away, its safety and comfort now highly desirable. He felt another guard hold him up as they helped him up the steps to the coach; he slipped and fell, laughing as the guards grudgingly helped him back up. He turned looking for Orodreth when suddenly the world lit up, blindingly him for a second, like a flash of lightening and then it faded as quickly as it came. `Bollocks! He just took a fucking picture! Seize that man!' roared his chaperone; the man's nostrils became huge as he sucked a great lungful of air. `Shit' swore Elstar venomously as a soldier packed him into the coach and bodily threw Orodreth in with him. His chaperone kindly checked that he was comfortably seated. `Are you in my prince?' Elstar nodded vaguely then he opened the window and said to the driver `Now get him to the palace at once and take him through the Gilded Gate, we don't want anybody else seeing him like this.' The coach slid into action and the bright lights of the West End blurred past as the coach made for sanctuary at the Celestial Palace. The cobble streets made it a bumpy ride, he could feel every bump and he seriously wished he followed Orodreth's lead and vomited earlier, the thought of being sick made him wretch. `I'm going to be sick' wailed Elstar, his chaperone cringed away from him but offered his helmet whilst not looking at him. Elstar took it gratefully and filled it until it was overflowing with one tear inducing wretch, next to him Orodreth gagged noisily. `Thank you' whispered Elstar as he gave the man his helmet back, he settled back into his chair fitfully the guard wordlessly opened the window and emptied it into the street, he didn't Elstar noticed, put it back on. * * * Elstar opened his eyes with a start; sunlight stung his sensitive eyes. He woke up with no recollection of how he got there so he proceeded to check that all his extremities were still there, diagnostics confirmed that he was whole. Where the hell was he? He was far too warm to be in a snow drift that's for sure, besides it was still summer, he recalled hazily. Everything was so damn blurry he thought then silver thread and small pearls solidified before his eyes, ah so he was in bed then and more importantly in his own bed. His head ached, it wouldn't kill him though. He grinned morbidly at the thought confident in the knowledge that if drink could actually kill an elf then his grandmother would have died practically aeons ago. With tremendous will power he heaved out of the silken cocoon he'd drunkenly created in the night. He tried to get out of his bed, and this wasn't helped by the vast enormity of it at one point it had fitted several nubile men into its silky depths. He braced himself as he gingerly put a foot on the marble floor. It was cold, just as he expected it was part of his morning/early afternoon ritual. He glanced around his cavernous room, scanning it for that dreadful butler and fortunately he was alone minus the statuary and portraits, he rubbed his hands together, what he needed was a pot of tea. The huge doors at far end of his chamber burst open, they were prone to drama. How they opened without ropes and a team of oiled servants he'd never know, as sadly structural engineering wasn't one of his strongest points. His father had this morbid fear of peasant revolts and sagely built the doors accordingly, it could withstand an army if they didn't use the secret servant door. A tall white figure came carrying a try so level it looked like the edge of a sword. Sadly it could only be Celso Savera, the ancient butler who came, not just with the palace, but with the Monarchy itself. He was a cruel and imperious servant, joyless and ruthless. All forms of entertainment seemed to wither and then die before those coal eyes that are feared throughout the palace. Elstar looked at the man's razor thin lips that seemed to be tightly pursed sliced any attempt of joviality. The rest of his face was cold and immovable, his forehead probably hadn't moved in centuries. His powdered wig was immaculately kept, any errant hair tortured and thrown back amongst its brethren. To think Celso, Prince of hell served as a butler is some form of an in-joke between the gods, Elstar saw him as both his jailer and his warden. `Good morning, my prince! Let's get some light in here!' said Celso with a smirk, Elstar was convinced that his servant was shouting purely because he guessed that Elstar was hung-over. The shutters were thrust open and pure unadulterated sunlight charged in booted him in the face. ``As my prince wishes, I have arranged for a copy of the Observed for you to flick through whilst you break your fast' the blinds were closed and the light once again was limited to bearable levels. The mornings tended to be the worst but hopefully he'd sort himself by the afternoon, a light breakfast would certainly help. Celso placed the platinum serving tray on the breakfast table near the balcony doors and retreated a few feet, probably to avoid catching his hangover. He hobbled over to the smell of aromatic summer tea and the honeyed whiff of croissants. The tea paraphernalia is laid out like surgical apparatus; even the sugar cubes formed a stepped Mylian pyramid. Celso clearly has too much time on those manicured hands of his. `Why are you so cheerful this morning?' said Elstar suddenly wary, something was amiss somewhere. His butler fidgeted with one of his sleeves and then waved a pale hand dismissively `Do I need a reason to be in a good mood?' he replied. `Well yes, it's most unlike you' a knot in his belly formed, it was probably just his hangover, he lifted the tea cup and smelled it delicately and Celso nodded his approval with a slight dip of his head which was probably all his neck could manage. Elstar put it down daintily and Celso offered what on a less frozen face would have passed for an encouraging smile. Elstar smiled back easily then flung three sugar cubes in, ignored the tea equipment and stirred it with the wrong end of a spoon. He was rewarded with a disappointed sigh from Celso, chilly as an arctic breeze. `More tea to go with your sugar? My prince' Celso moved the china teapot and that's when he saw it. His heart pounded in his chest and his headache returned with a vengeance. `Bastards! Filthy parasitic leaches, I . . I'll!' burn their printing office to the ground and have their heads for treason. He wanted to tear their throats out. `Oh dear it's not the nobility again my prince?' said Celso as he endeavoured to look shocked, a most tiresome and empty facade. `No it's the press. It's not fair Celso! It's not bloody fair! All I did was drink a little, oh alright a lot but it's not like I was out hurting anybody and now I've been vilified' his clenched fists trembled as he studied the newspaper. On the front page was a still damp picture of him being shamefully held up by two Glass Guards as he staggered out of one of the royal coaches, his eyes were half lidded and his attire was completely dishevelled, the circlet that he infrequently wore was on the floor at his feet. The picture was worth a thousand words, all of them damning. `Oh no what does the caption say? I'd avoid the political cartoon if I were you' said Celso, he still managed to sound bored, Elstar wanted to split in his face. He tore his eyes from his shame and looked at the title, he laughed mirthlessly `Pissed Prince Wrecked on the West End' It also says `Hammered Heir's bender in elitist club' Good grief!' he threw the paper at his servant stroppily; his hands felt very cold so he wrapped them around his stomach. Saliva flooded his mouth and then he violently vomited all over the tray, ruining his croissants. He didn't attempt to hide the mischievous grin that crossed his lips as Celso reared like an indignant flamingo and bellowed for a servant lower in the hierarchy to clean it up. Elstar flinched as there was a banging on the door; he looked at his bed and wondered if he could hide under it for a few days. `That'll be the door, I wonder who this could be . . . `said Celso as he opened the door just wide enough for him to see the caller `Good afternoon, how can I help?' Celso polished voice was dripping with honey, Elstar retreated further into his room. `I'm looking for Elstar' said a familiar voice. Elstar did his absolute best not to whimper; all elves have terrific hearing. `Wait outside and I'll check to see if he's still in bed' the door was politely closed. Elstar swallowed and shook his head, he mouthed `No' and clutched at his beautiful dressing gown. Celso slowly crossed his arms in an exaggerated motion, his cold coal eyes looked down at him as he said `Oh yes he's quite awake, you can come in' he was such a wretched creature. The door opened and Elstar braced himself hugging the aromatic tea like it possessed healing powers.