The Elf in the Mirror by Amaranth

| | |

The Elf in the Mirror

 

Slowly I wipe the last droplets of water from my slightly flushed skin. I am in no haste, the long bath in the pool has relaxed me, has eased the tension in my muscles after a long day on the training ground. Carelessly discarding my wet towel on the floor, I unwind my long hair from the towel holding it, tossing it on the pile as well. A servant would come and pick it up later. The damp hair feels cool against my warm skin, sending a slight, but not unpleasant, shiver down my spine, and I cannot suppress a delighted sigh. I grip a dry towel and loosely wrap it around my hips before I finally turn to make my way towards the dressing chamber.

Silently I walk past the pool, suddenly halting beside a large marble pillar, smiling at the vision unfolding before my eyes. He has not heard my approach, the young elf in front of the mirror; he is lost in thought and completely oblivious of my gaze wandering over his body while he brushes his long ebony mane. There is not much left of the elfling I took in as my ward about twenty years ago; pale, skinny and frightened, fainting from exhaustion after his brother sent him though weeks of overly hard training. A torment for someone that young, a child. Yet his bother had not cared, pushing his younger sibling beyond what he was able to endure.

It had not been an easy start. The boy had refused to speak, withdrawing completely into himself, silently grieving for the father he had lost. Most could not understand his grief, could not comprehend why he felt so deeply for the one who had killed his mother and had been executed for this deed. Yet this man had loved his youngest son deeply, had cared for the child while the mother and brother showed no interest in the boy. It had been a long way to win my ward's trust and when he had cast me the first shy smile it had felt like a rare gift, filling my heart with intense joy.

There is not much left of the quiet, shy elfling. He has grown into a tall and proud young elf. Only his eyes still hold an echo of his pain and they hold many secrets as well. Eyes that seem to look into my very soul whenever he gazes at me, they have the colour of a cloudless night sky, dark grey, almost black, with sparks of silver and blue in them like tiny stars. Most of the time his eyes look thoughtful, but when he smiles, the smile touches his eyes and makes them sparkle. He reached his majority three summers ago, yet I still regarded him as a boy until he made me see him in a different light.

Today he defeated me on the training ground for the first time, and even though I was furious to be bested by a youth at first, my anger soon changed into pride and I realised that he had indeed grown into a fine, young warrior. A genuine smile settles on my features when I think of the blush that coloured his cheeks at receiving praise and compliments from many seasoned warriors. He still has problems in seeing his own worth, too often has he been overlooked or told that he was a useless nobody. But never by me, I always knew there was a lot of strength hidden beneath the surface.

A small gasp rips me out of my musings and again my gaze wanders to the figure in front of me. He is still unaware of my presence, watching himself in the mirror with amazement and curiosity. He has changed a lot in the last years, not only has he almost reached my height, his lean body has also become more muscular and masculine from the hours he spent with sparring, and his shoulders have grown broader due to his archery training. He will still grow in the years to come and his stature will get even stronger, steeled with adamant discipline, yet it is already very impressive.

It is not the first time I have caught him standing in front of the mirror after a bath, eying every small change of his body with utmost interest, but also with uncertainty. He seems to be oblivious to the looks the young maidens and some of the warriors cast him when he walks by with long, graceful strides, his ebony mane waving behind him like a silken banner. He is beautiful, even though he feels unsure and cannot completely comprehend it. There is nothing he needs to feel ashamed of. Quite the contrary.

I let my gaze wander over his long, shapely legs. The silken curtain of his hair is falling longer than waist length in soft waves, hiding narrow hips and small, taut buttocks. I feel my skin flush at the thought of those perfectly rounded mounds, heat starts to pool in my loins and I press my cheek against the cool marble of the pillar, stifling a moan. My eyes follow his movements while the brush glides through his hair. His body is strong and sinewy and the dim, flickering light of the candles only highlights the play of muscles under his perfectly pale skin.

He lets one hand glide over his flat abdomen, discovering the rippling muscles with his fingertips while he eyes himself in the mirror. He has no idea what he is doing to me; he does not know how arousing this innocent gesture is. Blood rushes into my quickly hardening member as I watch him, making my straining erection twitch while I bite back another deep moan that would doubtlessly betray my presence. For one second the thought that this is wrong flickers through my mind, that I should not observe him thus, but the hunger and the desire I feel is too intense, too overwhelming.

I close the distance between us and step behind him. My sudden appearance startles him, but then he flashes me one of those bright smiles that would make any maiden swoon. I lock my gaze with him in the mirror, eyeing him intently for a moment before I let my hands trail down his arms, delighted in the slight shudder that runs through his body at the touch.

“You fought well today,” I breathe into his ear. “You defeated me, I stood no chance!”

“It was just once and certainly only by chance,” he murmurs, a light blush creeping over his pale skin.

“Do not demean yourself. You have grown into a fine, young warrior,” I whisper, observing his reaction in the mirror. “And a very handsome and beautiful one as well.”

He tries to stifle his gasp of surprise and blushes even deeper when he fails, averting his eyes that betray his confusion. He does not know how arousing he looks like this, flushed, his full red lips slightly trembling. Again I trail my hands along his arms and over his hips, reveling in the softness of his skin. A renewed shiver runs through his body and in the mirror I can see his nipples harden into small, dusky buds. A surprised yelp escapes his luscious lips when I slide my fingers up his abdomen and his chest, softly brushing against those dark nubs.

Slowly I start to circle his nipples with my fingers, making him shudder, before I gently start to rub them, drawing a low moan from him that rushes straight into my groin, enhancing the sweet tension I feel in my loins. I can see him harden in the mirror and I intensify my sweet torment, amazed how easy it is to arouse him thus, eliciting soft moans and sighs that almost drive me mad.

“Do you like what I am doing?” I whisper against his ear, letting my tongue trail up to the delicate tip, sucking at it for a short moment. A deep moan is the only answer I receive and a muffled groan when I pinch his nipples hard between my fingers. His head tilts back, resting against my shoulder, baring the white column of his throat to me. I cannot resist, slowly I kiss, lick and suck my way down to his shoulder and up again, leaving small bite marks on his alabaster skin while he moans in delight.

“Has anyone ever touched you thus?” I purr against his ear, playfully biting the sensitive tip. I know he has no experience with males. Apart from some chaste kisses with maidens he is inexperienced…and untouched, yet to hear him say it thrills me immeasurably.

“No…never.” His words are almost inaudible and again he blushes deeply, looking utterly vulnerable. I reward him with a new wave of pleasure, rolling and pinching his swollen nipples until he can do naught but moan and sigh.

“Do you touch yourself at times?” The mere thought of my ward exploring his body, uncertain but curious, spurs my desire even further.

“Yes, sometimes…” he murmurs between moans and gasps, before he starts to struggle against my embrace. „We should not do this…your mate…it is wrong.”

I watch his beautiful, flushed face in the mirror. I can read confusion in his eyes, uncertainty, guilt, yet there is deep longing and desire. Even though I should restrain myself and feel guilty, I do not, it does not feel wrong to touch him and my eyes mirror the same desire and longing than his.

“Please…this is…” His renewed struggle ends in a long, deep groan as I curl my fingers around his erection, stroking it into full hardness again while my other hand continues to tease a hard nipple. He starts to buck his hips forward, seeking more contact, more of this mind-blowing friction and pleasure that overwhelms him. In the mirror I can see that his eyes are half shut, long dark lashes fluttering while he observes my very movement through passion clouded eyes. I pull him closer into my embrace, pressing my hard erection against his taut buttocks. I cannot stifle a loud groan, this feels so good, but it would feel even better without the towel between us, his soft skin flush against mine.

I feel him stiffen as my hard bulge presses against his behind. His eyes widen with realisation, yet he pushes back, feeling my straining erection against him. My blood seems to turn into liquid fire, and harsher than intended I yank him around while I free myself from the disturbing towel with my other hand. Almost brutally I grab his buttocks and pull him closer, thrusting my arousal against his own heated column of flesh and bolts of lightning shoot through my entire body as I finally feel his warm skin against mine. He gasps in surprise and I make good use of his confusion, capturing his full lips in a fierce and demanding kiss, tasting him for the first time.

Hungrily I plunder his sweet mouth, exploring the wet cavern with my tongue, greedily swallowing his moans. He does not respond at first, too overwhelmed by my sudden onslaught, but then his tongue tentatively starts to dance with mine until he loses his reluctance and starts to tease and explore more boldly. Gasping we finally pull apart, both our chests heaving with the need of air, only to join in another heated kiss, starting the dance anew, more forceful this time.

His buttocks fit perfectly in my palms and I knead them, urging him to move against me. His hands start to wander over my back, cautiously at first, inexperienced and innocent, until they finally tangle in my long mane of hair. I draw away from the kiss, sucking at his lower lip for a moment before I take in the lovely view he presents. His hair is tousled, a rosy flush has spread over his skin and his lips are swollen, kiss bruised and slightly wet. Passion clouded dark eyes gaze at me, while I can feel his body trembling with need. The mere sight of him makes my erection swell even harder, I need him, I need to feel him so badly, I need to feel all of him.

Capturing his ruby lips in another demanding kiss, I slowly start to maneuver him backwards. The bedchamber is too far, my desperate need and longing for him are too strong to wait, but behind the nearby curtain is a small room with a large divan and soft cushions. A small private place fashioned to relax after a bath, illuminated by scented candles and with various small phials of massage oils in different fragrances. A place perfectly made for this.

My hands do not stop roaming and caressing his body while I carefully direct him to our destination. He slightly jumps out of surprise when the backs of his legs finally touch the divan, but he does not struggle when I guide him to lie down with gentle pressure. Again I drink in the vision he displays, hungrily devouring every detail of his splendid body sprawled on the divan. His pale skin is a sharp contrast to the silken sheets, coloured in shades of dark blue and green. His dark hair has fanned out around him, framing his exquisite form, and his ruby lips beckon to be kissed anew.

I crawl up to him, letting my hands slide up his long, supple legs until I reach his hips. I lean forward and capture his soft lips in a playful kiss, sucking at his swollen lower lip before I kiss and nip a wet trail down his throat, leaving small passion marks on his soft skin. I bend down and lick at a dusky nipple, making him moan and arch into my touch. He tries to thrust up his hips, seeking for friction, but I hold them in place with my hands, gently pressing him down onto the cool silken sheets. An almost desperate sigh escapes his lips, but soon his sweet moans and gasps fill the air again, as I start to suck at a hard nub, biting it now and then.

I am painfully hard, but I know I cannot rush this. I do not wish to hurt him and I enjoy it very much to explore every patch of his soft skin. I abandon his nipples and let my tongue trail down his flat abdomen, watching the play of his muscles beneath the skin. Slowly my tongue circles the small hollow of his navel, before I dip it inside, making him jerk and moan. I feel his form become rigid under my touch and I slowly lift my head, searching his eyes.

“Please…stop,” he murmurs, struggling slightly. “Your mate…this is not…”

His weak protest ends in a loud groan as I lick along the tip of his erection, tasting the small droplets of precum that have gathered there. His body is trembling almost violently now, and again he tries to wiggle free, but the last bit of his resistance melts away when I finally swallow him whole, sucking his heated flesh deep into my welcoming throat. He cries out in shock, overwhelmed by the intensity of this unknown pleasure, and it becomes hard to hold his hips in place while I start to work him in earnest. Almost automatically he spreads his legs further apart, granting me better access. His genuine moans and cries become louder, they sound sweet like music to my ears, sending shivers down my spine.

I release one of his hips and carefully start to grope for the phial of oil that must be on the floor beneath the divan, never ceasing my sucking motion while I do so. I finally find what I was searching for, uncork the small glass phial and coat my fingers with a generous amount of the fragrant oil, before I place the phial securely back onto the ground. Slowly I let my hand wander between my ward’s spread legs, gently brushing a slick finger along his secret entrance. He squirms and stiffens, trying to move away from the unknown touch, and so I start to hum, letting the vibrations massage his hard member until he relaxes.

Carefully I slide a finger into his untouched passage, testing the resistance of the tight ring of muscles. The sudden intrusion makes him cry out in shock followed by a pained whimper. I can feel his inner muscles cramping around my finger, yet I do not remove it but carefully start to massage his testicles with my other hand. I feel him arch into my touch, his now unrestrained hips start to buck up, pushing his length deeper into my throat while his hands tangle in my hair. I will myself to relax and swallow him even deeper, slowly starting to move my finger within his tight heat.

I search for the small hidden gland that would catapult him into blinding ecstasy, and when he cries out this time it is not from pain, his moans turning into desperate sobs accompanied by incoherent pleas for more. I feel his muscles relax and use this moment to slide another finger into him, aiming for the small hidden nub. This is too much for my young, inexperienced ward, the bliss is too overwhelming and with my name on his lips he spills his seed down my throat, his inner muscles clenching tightly around my fingers. My name, hearing him cry out my name almost makes me come as well, but I force back my approaching climax, concentrating on the task to milk him until the last drop.

I feel the tremors within his body subside and carefully start to stretch his passage while he is still in the aftermath of his shattering climax. A third finger joins the others and I slowly lift my head, gazing at his spent, sated body. He is beautiful, his hooded eyes are almost closed and have turned a nearly black shade; a slight sheen of sweat making him glow in the dim candlelight. I want him, I long to drive myself into his tight heat up to the hilt, riding him hard until he begs for release. Yet I do not want it this way, I want him to be fully aroused when I finally claim his untried body for the first time.

I crawl upwards and tenderly kiss him on his swollen lips, my fingers still deeply sheathed within his body. His eyelids flutter open and he gazes at me with a mixture of confusion and longing. His lips part without resistance, and I let him taste his own, unique essence on my tongue. Our kiss is slow at first, gentle, but soon it deepens, growing more heated and demanding. I move my fingers within him, again stroking the small bundle of nerves until he starts to push back on them, moaning deeply, his flaccid member coming alive again.

“Will you have me?” he asks in a trembling voice that betrays his fear.

“Trust me,“ I murmur against his lips. “I would never harm you.”

“I trust you,” he whispers, eying me thoroughly. “Is this not wrong?”

“How can it be wrong when it feels so right?” I purr, gently sucking at his lower lip.

“Then have me, do with me as you please.” He pulls me in for another kiss, giving me a second, silent permission to proceed while his hand slowly wanders between our bodies, touching me for the first time. His moves are still inexperienced, but this drives me towards the edge all the more. I cannot wait any longer, I need to have him now, I need to feel him. I withdraw my fingers and he rewards me with disapproving sigh, rubbing his groin against mine, making me groan in anticipation.

“Turn around, on your hands and knees,” I command, my voice raw with need. He complies, presenting me his beautiful backside, slightly spreading his legs. The mere view of his buttocks makes me moan, the thought of being buried between those taut mounds of flesh lets my member twitch painfully, clear droplets of precum running down my length. With some few strokes of my oily fingers I slicken my shaft, biting my lips hard when the tension in my loins almost gets unbearable.

I position myself between his legs, gripping his hips. I can feel him shivering at my touch, and when the tip of my erection brushes against his entrance, he struggles against my restraining grip, trying to bolt. I lean forward, softly kissing his neck and murmuring soothing words until he calms down and I begin to push in, forcing myself to go slowly. I feel the resistance of the tight, un-breached ring of muscles and press harder until it gives in, allowing me to sheath myself up to the hilt with one fluid motion. The tightness enveloping me is too delicious, and I hold my breath for a moment, revelling in the feeling of it.

I hear my ward cry out in pain at being stretched so wholly. Again he struggles, trying to break free, but I keep him in place, feeling his inner muscles squeezing and massaging me until I cannot hold back any longer. I pull out a bit before I slowly slide in again, driving myself deeper in his tight channel. He tries to bite back another pained whimper, but when I push in for the third time, he cries out in pure rapture, pushing back, taking me in deeper. I set a slow, steady rhythm at first, but soon I start to loose control, thrusting in faster and with more force.

He meets every thrust, spreading his legs further apart to grant me better access; pleading for more between passionate cries and moans. I comply, riding him more savagely, keeping him at the small edge between pleasure and pain. I pull him in an upright position, pushing even deeper into his willing body while I start to stroke his rigid length with one hand and torment a nipple with the other. He starts to cry out my name all over again and soon both of us are close to climax. I try to draw it out as long as possible, he feels so good and I wish this moment would never end.

Only faintly I register that the curtains fly open and my mate storms into the room, demanding an explanation. I hear my ward’s startled yelp, feel his body tense in my arms and his inner muscles cramp, but I am beyond any rational thought. I have lost control over my body and I am too close to stop. I forcefully drive myself into the tight heat once more, hear my ward’s faint, tormented cry and his cramping inner muscles finally send me over the edge. With a feral growl I release my seed deep within his tight passage, before I sink my teeth into his shoulder, marking him, drawing blood.

He slumps forward with a pained sob and when I finally lift my head, I meet the furious, blazing gaze of my mate, unable to dodge his hard blow across my jaw that sends me tumbling from the divan onto the ground. I do not feel the pain of the blow, my passion clouded mind still in a haze, but the cool stone floor beneath my skin makes me come back to my senses. I hear a loud, pained whimper from my ward that chills me to the bone and makes my heart ache.

My mate grips the younger elf hard by his upper arm and yanks him to his feet, shaking him while he demands an answer. Violent tremors wreck my wards body, tears of fear and embarrassment running down his flushed cheeks.

“Forgive me…please…I should not have allowed this…forgive me,” the young elf stutters between sobs, and only now I see that mingling with my seed there is blood running down the insides of his trembling legs. Within a second I am at my feet and beside my mate and my ward.

“Do not hurt him, leave him be, it is not his fault,” I address my mate, careful to not infuriate him further. “He is so inexperienced and my actions overwhelmed him, he did not stand a chance. Direct your anger at me, it is I whom betrayed you.”

I look into my mate's eyes, even though his gaze almost makes me flinch. He lets go of my ward's arms and with a pained moan the young elf’s legs give in and he collapses to the ground. I try to catch him, but I am too slow and with a loud thud he hits his temple against the nearby commode, crying out in shock. Blood trickles down his pale cheek and I kneel beside him, murmuring soothing words, but he does not seem to hear me. Absentmindedly his hand touches his temple, before he stares at me bewildered, eyes wide with shock.

The pained expression in his eyes almost breaks my heart, and I reach out my hand to comfort him, but he pushes me back, smearing his blood over my chest. He scrambles to his feet and flees, gripping the wall for support; leaving bloody fingerprints on the white marble while he does so.

“Forgive me, I should not have done this. Your first time should not have ended thus,” I whisper, but when I hear the slam of a door, I know my words went unheard. My heart contracts painfully in my chest, I never wanted to hurt him. How could I? I deeply care for him, more than I had ever thought, more that I probably should. His first time…it should have been special, a wonderful experience and not a disaster.

I can feel the icy glare of my mate penetrating me from above, and slowly I come to my feet again, meeting his gaze.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Unnoticed a lone figure made its way towards the palace, almost melting into the shadow of the walls. The roaring storm swallowed the young elf’s desperate sobs, rain mingling with his tears. He did not use the main entrance, but slipped into a side door normally used by servants and unguarded during the thunderstorm. He came across no-one, as he avoided the crowded hallways. At this time of the day, most inhabitants rushed into the great dining hall and the servants were busy, hurrying between the great hall and the kitchens.

Silently he slipped into his room, pulled the large wooden door shut and locked it, before he sank to the ground with a sigh. He was shivering, his thin clothes were soaked from the rain and clung to his skin, but he did not care, hot tears running down his cold, pale cheeks. He had not cared to dress properly, had only wanted to flee; leaving his mentors house in a hurry. He could have locked himself in the room he occupied there, but the thought to stay in one house with his mentor and his raging mate had caused him to panic.

He had not been in his room in the palace for a long time, but the silence of the large, comfortable chamber made him feel safe. He sat on the floor for a while, rocking back and forth, his sobs the only sound that broke through the silence of the room. Only reluctantly he came to his feet again, standing on shaky legs as he started to peel himself out of his wet garments; carelessly discarding them onto the ground. His head was spinning, and with tumbling steps he reached the large bed and pulled the covers over his head, curling into a tight ball. He did not bother to dry himself off or to care for the bleeding lesion on his temple, he only wanted to lie down.

His body hurt, but the pain in his heart was even worse. He should not have given in, should not have allowed his mentor to seduce him, well knowing it was wrong. But it had been too overwhelming to be touched by another, it had felt better than he had ever imagined in his dreams. And indeed, it had been like a dream, he had dreamed of this countless times, before coming awake painfully aroused. He had touched himself then, and always his mentor’s image had appeared in his mind, even though he had tried to think of someone else.

He adored his mentor, the one who had taken him in and had given him hope, thus he had thought his dreams some kind of hero worship that would stop with time. He had never actually hoped that his dreams would come true, had been content just imagine it…but today everything had changed. He had not only lost his virginity today, but had given too much of himself. He had not known that his feelings for his mentor went so deep, he had been too naïve to see, but when he had realised it, it had been too late.

He had given all of himself, only to once experience how it felt to be loved by the one who had captured his heart, and even though he was still young, he knew he would never love another. But how could he ever face his mentor again without his heart shattering to pieces? The one he loved would never be his, he had a mate, someone he could not compare with. There was only one thing he could do.

He would talk to his elder brother, even though the mere thought of this made him sick, and would ask him for permission to join his household again. He was past his majority now and had trained a lot in the past twenty years, maybe he would be of some use for his elder sibling now. He knew his brother would make his life as miserable as possible, but he had learned to stand his ground and with time he would learn to handle his emotions as well. There was no other option left.

 

*~*~* The End ... for now! *~*~*

Chapter End Notes

I decided to make this OC definitively a new future project after finishing my current WIP story. So there will be more of him in time.

Table of Contents | Leave a Comment