Hank sat back on the sofa, a lingering warmth spreading through him, his body still humming from the intense encounter. Constance was putting her clothes in order, her movements deliberate, a subtle flush coloring her cheeks. She was composed, yet there was a softness in her eyes, a vulnerability that hinted at the depth of their connection. She didn't want the whole company to know the extent of their intimacy, a desire for privacy and a touch of professional decorum.
She smiled as she looked at him, her gaze lingering, a silent question in her eyes. "Still thinking about it?" she asked, her voice a low, husky purr, a hint of amusement in her tone.
Hank nodded, his thoughts still swirling, the offer both tempting and complex. "I have to talk to a few people," he said, his voice thoughtful. "But I will let you know."
She leaned closer, her touch light and fleeting. She kissed him, a soft, lingering press of her lips, a silent promise of more to come. "Want to see Lily before you leave?" she asked, her voice warm and inviting.
Hank's face softened, a genuine smile replacing the lingering intensity. "That reminds me. I have something for you." He reached into his bag, his fingers finding the small memory card. He pulled it out and handed it to her. "I took this picture before the accident," he said, his voice gentle.
She took the card, her eyes widening with a mixture of surprise and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
She turned toward the elevator, her hand resting lightly on his arm, a silent invitation to join her. Hank followed, the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to reveal its polished interior. "So, is this like an open floor? Can anyone just come up here?" he asked, his curiosity piqued by the security.
She shook her head, a hint of pride in her eyes. Then, she showed him her card, the small, embedded chip catching the light. "There is a chip in this card. The elevator reads it. If you are authorized, you can access this floor. If not, the button won't work," she explained, her voice matter-of-fact.
Hank smiled and nodded, impressed by the sophisticated security. "Smart," he said, his voice genuine.
She pressed the button for the 9th floor, her destination clear. As the elevator began its ascent, Hank turned to her, a question lingering in the air. "What we just did…" he started, his voice hesitant.
She stepped closer, her touch possessive, her eyes burning into his. She kissed him, a quick, intense kiss that silenced his words. "Something we won't talk about," she whispered, her voice a low, seductive purr, her eyes promising a world of future encounters. "But something we might do again, on many occasions… if you take the job and the apartment."
Before he could answer, the elevator doors opened, revealing her home for the first time. Hank's breath caught in his throat. It was almost the same layout as the eighth floor, a mirror image of the apartment below, but hers boasted a wraparound balcony, a spacious outdoor extension that offered panoramic views. "Wow… nice," Hank said, his voice filled with genuine awe.
She smiled, a warmth spreading through her chest. "Hank…" a young voice called out, clear and bright. Hank barely had time to react before Lily came running, her small form a whirlwind of energy, throwing herself into his arms with complete abandon. "Woah, little girl," he said, his voice filled with surprise and affection, lifting her up with ease.
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Mom says you loved the camera!" she said, her voice filled with childlike enthusiasm.
Hank chuckled, his heart melting at her innocence. He lifted up his camera bag, showcasing the new equipment. "I do. It is perfect," he said, his voice warm and genuine.
She beamed, her smile radiant. "Thank you, Hank. You saved my life," she whispered, her voice filled with a sincerity that touched him deeply.
Hank kissed her cheek, his touch gentle and affectionate. "Anytime, pumpkin," he said, his voice soft.
She giggled, her eyes widening. "Pumpkin?" she asked, her head tilting.
Hank nodded, his eyes twinkling. "You don't like it?" he asked, his voice playful. "I could call you muffin, pudding, sugar, maybe cupcake," he said, his voice teasing.
She laughed, a bright, infectious sound that filled the space. Constance smiled, her heart swelling with a mixture of emotions. Hank was perfect. He was a great and attentive lover, his touch both passionate and tender, and he was wonderful with Lily, his warmth and affection genuine.
She had read some of the reviews online of his pictures and his photography, seeking to learn more about him. There were very few that had anything bad to say. Most parents praised him for his ability to make their kids feel like movie stars, even if just for a moment, capturing their personalities and creating lasting memories.
She smiled again, her gaze lingering on Hank, her mind racing with possibilities. "Fuck James," she thought, a surge of anger and resentment towards her ex-husband. The bastard found pleasure in manipulating and exploiting young girls, a stark contrast to Hank's gentle nature. Hank, she knew, would likely have his share of women, his charm and talent undeniable. But she had him too, and by God, she would give him everything she could to entice him to stay, to take the job, to move into the apartment downstairs. She could have him, and he could have her, as much as they both desired, a mutually beneficial arrangement that could fulfill their needs and desires.
---
Across town, in a dimly lit room, a different kind of meeting was taking place. Fourteen elves, their beauty otherworldly, sat around a long, polished table. The air crackled with energy, a mix of laughter, whispered conversations, and a palpable sense of anticipation. Some of them hadn't seen each other in over a century, their reunions filled with both joy and a hint of wistful longing for times long past.
"So, Maerisa…" Liara said, her voice melodic, her eyes sharp and inquisitive. "You said you found him. Are you sure this time?" she asked, her gaze sweeping over Elowen, a hint of skepticism in her tone.
Elowen, the green-haired beauty, smirked, her lips curving into a playful pout. "Hey, he would have been perfect if he had stayed the course," Elowen said, defending herself, a hint of playful defiance in her voice. "He had the charisma, the strength, the… the touch."
"Yeah, right… right up until he fucked that guy, and then killed him," Valeriusa said, tossing her hair back as she chuckled. Her laughter rang out like chimes in a breeze… sharp, bright, and unmistakably amused.
The others burst into laughter, the sound echoing around the stone chamber in waves of shared exasperation and humor. It wasn’t just the absurdity of the situation… it was the pattern. The endless cycle. The years of searching.
Hundreds of men had been tested over the centuries… chosen, watched, sometimes courted, all in the hope that one might be the one. Only a precious few had ever come close. And even those rare ones always… always, fell short in the end.
“This one,” Elowen muttered, shaking her head with a grin. “He really had potential. Until he went and broke two sacred codes in the same night.”
Valeriusa smirked. “Elven kings aren’t supposed to kill for pleasure, and they definitely aren’t meant to bed other men.”
A few of the elves nodded gravely, others rolled their eyes. The laws of old still held weight, especially when it came to royalty. In elven culture, the king’s line was sacred, his role divinely chosen. While elves were not without fluidity in their personal lives, a male ruler entering into physical relations with another man was seen as a disruption to the divine balance of the king’s bloodline. A personal matter? Perhaps forgivable. But a king? It was taboo. Unfit.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
“Poor guy never even made it to the third trial,” Deraphina sighed, though her smirk betrayed her amusement more than any sorrow.
“Still,” Aredhel added, “he was fun while he lasted.”
Their laughter rose again, but beneath it lingered the deeper truth… that even after centuries of searching, the weight of their ancient traditions still narrowed the path forward.
Until now.
Maerisa stood up, her movements graceful and commanding, her presence silencing the room. "You were all there in his dream," she said, her voice resonating with an unearthly power. "He recognized you all. He knew your names. He is the one." Her gaze swept across their faces, her conviction unwavering.
One by one, the elves nodded, a sense of awe and anticipation filling the room. "So we give him the choice," Aeliana said, her voice hesitant, a flicker of doubt crossing her features.
They all nodded in agreement, a murmur of assent rippling through the group.
"The choice is not going to work," Maerisa said, her voice firm, her gaze sweeping across the table. She looked around, her eyes meeting each of theirs, her expression resolute. "Telling him he can choose us all, but not have human girls again, or choose one of us and he can… it is not right. Times has changed, and so must we." Her words hung in the air, a challenge to their ancient traditions.
"What do you suggest?" Elowen asked, her curiosity piqued, a hint of excitement in her voice.
Maerisa smirked, a slow, seductive curve of her lips, her eyes gleaming with a mischievous glint. "All of us and whatever girls he wants," she said, her voice a low, suggestive purr.
The table erupted, the room filled with a cacophony of voices, all talking at once. Some were for the radical idea, their eyes shining with a sense of adventure, while others were vehemently against it, clinging to the old ways, their faces etched with concern.
"You all know how this works," Maerisa said loudly, her voice cutting through the chaos, silencing her sisters with a commanding presence. "We all have to agree. If we give him the choice as it stands, he will choose to still have humans. I know it. I have observed him since he arrived." Her gaze swept across the room, her conviction unwavering.
She looked around, her eyes meeting each of theirs once again, a plea for understanding in her expression. "I did not approach him. He saw me and took my picture of his own free will," she said, her voice firm, a subtle hint of pride coloring her tone.
The thing about elves was that they could not lie to each other. They could keep things out of a conversation, choose not to reveal certain details, but to utter a deliberate lie was impossible, a fundamental aspect of their being. One by one, the girls nodded, their initial hesitation fading, replaced by a growing sense of excitement and a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation.
"So we vote?" Valeriusa said, her voice filled with anticipation, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
Maerisa nodded, her gaze sweeping across the table. "Blood print for, spit against," she said, her voice resonating with ancient power. Blood was sacred to elves, a symbol of life force and lineage, its use reserved for the most important of oaths and decisions. To offer one's blood was a profound commitment, a sacred vow.
She put a piece of parchment on the table, the material ancient and smooth. She pulled her dagger, its blade gleaming in the dim light, and cut her finger, a small, deliberate incision. Then, she pressed it against the paper, her name appearing in blood right under her finger, the crimson letters glowing faintly.
Elowen smirked, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "How was his kiss?" she asked, her voice teasing, a suggestive lilt in her tone.
Maerisa smiled, a soft, dreamy expression gracing her features. "Like my king was home," she said, her voice filled with a longing that resonated deep within her soul.
Elowen nodded, her eyes widening with understanding. She pulled her dagger, her movements graceful and fluid, and cut her finger, mirroring Maerisa's action. She pressed it to the paper, her name appearing in blood right next to Maerisa's, the crimson letters joining the growing list.
Nayana, Deraphina, Isilme, Valeriusa, Aredhel, Faelar, and Lirien followed suit, each elf adding their name to the parchment, their movements solemn and deliberate, the weight of their decision heavy in the air.
Sylvana looked at Maerisa, her brow furrowed with concern, her eyes searching Maerisa's. "Us and humans, is that not against the code?" she asked, her voice hesitant, a flicker of doubt in her tone.
Aeliana nodded, her expression thoughtful. "I think mother once told us, if the king has a human child, he will lose his powers," she said, her voice low, the memory of ancient lore hanging heavy in the air.
Maerisa smirked, a confident curve of her lips, her eyes gleaming with ancient knowledge. She pulled out the book, not any ordinary book, but a tome bound in ancient leather, its pages filled with the history and laws of their people. This was the holy bible for elves, a sacred text passed down through generations. "I estel Eldaron ná tulca," she whispered as she put it on the table, her voice filled with reverence. The words, roughly translating to "The faith of the elves is strong," echoed in the room, a powerful reminder of their heritage.
The girls stopped their movements, their attention drawn to the book, its presence commanding respect. "I have read this cover to cover," she said, her voice filled with conviction. It was a very old book, its pages worn and brittle, and for three hundred years, Maerisa had been studying its contents, seeking answers and guidance.
"Sylvana… you are referring to the code from the old lands," she continued, her voice firm, her gaze sweeping across the room. "There was a king that lost his powers when he had a human child, but there are hundreds of others that had human children. They never lost their powers."
She turned to a specific page, her fingers tracing the ancient script. "The first age of King Thalias, with his nine elven wives, Thalias took to the human world. Here he found a tenth wife, and within her seeded a human child. His son, Grecon of the north, became the leader of the human people, bringing peace to the elven world," she read, her voice filled with a quiet pride.
She looked up, her gaze meeting each of theirs, her eyes shining with conviction. "Our first king," she said, her voice resonating with the weight of history.
Liara smiled, her initial hesitation gone, replaced by a sense of determination. She pulled her dagger, her movements swift and decisive, and cut her finger, adding her blood to the parchment. Aeliana did the same, her expression resolute, now there were eleven signatures on the paper, the crimson letters glowing with an otherworldly light.
"Sisters, we need to all agree," Maerisa said, her voice filled with a sense of urgency, her gaze pleading with the remaining elves.
Sylvana sighed, a mixture of reluctance and acceptance in her eyes. She pulled her dagger and nodded, her voice firm. "If he loses his powers, you are out of the sisterhood," she said, her gaze fixed on Maerisa, a stern warning in her tone.
Maerisa nodded, her expression unwavering. "Agreed," she said, her voice resolute, knowing full well it meant she would become human, a sacrifice she was willing to make for the greater good.
Elenna and Nienna were the only two left, their eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and a hint of fear. Maerisa looked at them, her gaze softening, her heart filled with love for her closest companions. Nienna was her closest sister, her confidante, her friend. She smiled at her, her voice gentle. "Nie?" she asked, using her nickname for her, her eyes pleading for her support.
Nienna smirked, a slow, knowing curve of her lips, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She nodded, her loyalty unwavering. She then cut her finger, her blood joining the others on the parchment.
Elenna smiled, a quiet understanding in her eyes. "You knew from the beginning I would sign," she said, her voice soft, her actions swift.
Maerisa smiled and nodded, her heart filled with gratitude. Then, Elenna cut her finger and pressed it against the parchment, her blood joining the others.
Once all fourteen signatures were there, the parchment glowed, a blinding light emanating from the ancient material. "The bond is sealed," Maerisa said, her voice filled with awe and a sense of finality. "The king will have his own choice."
The girls all closed their eyes, the light too intense to bear, a wave of energy washing over them. Then, the parchment exploded into a million pieces, the fragments shimmering like stardust before fading away, leaving no trace behind. The girls opened their eyes, a shared sense of purpose uniting them.
"By the elven mother, he better be ready for us," Liara whispered, her voice filled with anticipation and a hint of playful menace.
The girls all smiled, a collective thrill coursing through them. To have a king, to be queens, to bring back the glory of their past, they could almost feel their connection to their old world again, a world they had thought lost forever.
---
Hank kissed Lily on the cheek, his touch gentle and affectionate. "I have to go," he said, his voice warm and sincere. "I have some people to talk to, but I will come back and see you again," he promised, his eyes meeting hers, a silent vow passing between them.
Lily smiled, her face lighting up with youthful joy. "And I will always be your pumpkin," she said with a laugh, her voice filled with playful affection.
Hank chuckled, a genuine sound of amusement. He smiled, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer. He looked up at Constance, their eyes meeting, a silent conversation passing between them. They needed not say anything aloud; they had shared something very intimate, a connection that went beyond words. Hank knew he wanted more, the intensity of their shared experience leaving a lingering ache within him. But if he wanted it, if he wanted her, he had a significant decision to make, a choice that could alter the course of his life.
He turned toward the elevator, his hand reaching out to press the call button. As he waited, he looked back at Lily, his gaze softening. "Stay off the streets," he said, his voice carrying a note of genuine concern.
She nodded, her expression serious, understanding the unspoken warning. The elevator arrived, the doors sliding open, and Hank stepped inside. He paused at the entrance, his gaze lingering on Constance and Lily, a mixture of longing and determination in his eyes. Then, he pressed the down button, the doors closing, and he descended, his mind racing with the weight of the choices before him.
