Page 5 of The Ivory King (Crowns of Melowynn #2)

ONE COULD TELL WHEN ONE WAS NEARING the capital of Melowynn, for the air smelled of sea.

Celear sat overlooking the Silvura Sea, a vast ocean that took on differing names depending on which side of our island nation one stood upon. If you were on the southern and eastern sides, then it was Silvura, and on the west, it was known as the Galesdi Sea. Far north, it was the Stormhold Sea. Galesdi was a Sandrayan word which meant ‘Feeder of Souls’, for the sea fed the dark-skinned elves that called the Black Sand Isles home. My tutelage in the Sandrayan language was good. My yeti was fair. My dwarven quite excellent as my language tutor for several seasons had been a dwarf, Porth—the dwarfish term for teacher—Kokri, who had drummed into my elven brain the curt inflections that made speaking dwarven so difficult for the elves. Our language was more lyrical to my ears, but then again, my ears were pointed.

“You have yet to reply to my last query,” Grandfather pointed out, pulling my thoughts from my school years. How easy life had been then, yet I had yearned to be older. Now I was older and wished to be younger. “Did you reply to the yeti counsel about the export of our wheat and rye in exchange for their furs?”

I sighed. He knew full well that I had returned that missive to the yeti. I’d sent the raven not two days ago. My sight lingered on the countryside, which was now less farmland and more urban. Gone were the vast fields of gold and soft browns. Outside the carriage, small and tightly packed homes grew closer as we rode through the western gates of Celear. The cry of gulls could just be heard over the din of the capital.

“I did, and the reply will be as always. They wish to have gemstones as well as grains.” Small children ran past our elegant carriage, the guards flanking our conveyance working to keep the tiny boys and girls out from under the feet of the four roan horses that clip-clopped over the cobblestones.

“They are the most difficult to barter with.” Grandfather sighed, his feet elevated on a stool as his calves had begun to swell on the first day of our three-day ride. “Always asking for gold and gems in exchange for rock crag goat pelts and ice shards.”

My sight touched on V’alor just to the left of our carriage. Tezen flew along at his side, Pasil behind, while the others flanked us.

“Without the ice shards from Mother Moth we would not be able to create the ice wine that all throughout Melowynn so enjoy, and which we bring in vast quantities of gold for our coffers,” I reminded him as I watched my lover sitting astride his steed, the bright coastal sun making his copper armor gleam. I’d not been in his arms for two nights as he had refused to come to my suite at the two innes we’d stayed at after leaving Renedith. “So the exchange seems a fair one to me.”

Umeris mumbled something just as the carriage hit a deep gulley that lurched us forward. I threw out an arm to keep the old elf on the richly padded bench. His feet slid from the stool to the carriage floor with a thud that made him grimace.

“Damn drivers,” Umeris groaned as we got him situated. “Stop fussing. I can place my feet upon a damn stool. Whoever is driving shall have his pay docked!”

“It is not the driver’s fault. It is the poor upkeep of the roads,” I explained, not for the first time, nor would it be the last. Infrastructure in Celear was sadly lacking. The roads were cracked and washed out and many of the sewers were busted after the last typhoon blew in and caused havoc. Hundreds of elves drowned as the ocean washed through the lower levels of the city, leaving dead everywhere. The cost to clean up had been astronomical and had, as always, been passed down to the vills who, sadly, had to hike taxes to keep our heads above water. The king was constantly criticized by his people for not caring about those who toiled under him, and as much as I liked our ruler, I could see why the common elf was disgusted.

This celebration alone was a case in point. The gold spent on ten days of nobility drinking and fucking throughout the castle would have paid twice over for the streets to be re-cobbled and the gutters repaired.

“Why are you young elves always so quick to criticize a government that has seen you raised in luxury?” Grandfather asked as he did nearly daily. I let my gaze drift back out the window to the hungry children of fishermen, cobblers, and huntsmen. “When I was your age, my loyalty was to the crown.”

“As is mine,” I replied by rote as we began the steady climb through narrow streets up to Avolire, the stronghold of the elven royal family for over two thousand centuries. “But that does not mean that I cannot call forth the faults of the crown when I witness them.”

“You would be better served to pay heed to remember your manners at court instead of salivating out the window like a hound staring at a trussed goose in a butcher’s window.”

My sight snapped away from V’alor to Umeris. The man knew just what nerves to pluck and had been doing so increasingly since our return from the Mossbells.

“I find it amusing that you only think to pluck at my lover when your argument has fallen on its face.” He opened his mouth to reply. “No, spare me your digs, for they hold no worth. All know that V’alor is a superb guardsman who cares for me deeply, just as I care for him. If you wish to sling arrows at me, choose a target that is above reproach.”

“No man or woman is above reproach, Aelir.”

I gaped at my grandfather who, it seemed, had tired of the discussion. His eyes sagged shut, his head fell forward, and his hair slid over his face despite the coronet he wore. Soft snores flowed from him. The silence, aside from the snorts of an elderly elf, was pleasant. It gave me time to focus on bringing forth the persona that I would need to wear for a tenday. That of Aelir Stillcloud, heir to the vills of Renedith. It was not a guise that I enjoyed wearing, for the real Aelir would much rather be doing anything other than idling away time that could be spent doing something beneficial.

The sound of the city fell away. The steady rise through curling streets soon brought us into view of Avolire as it sat majestically atop a steep cliff of darkest stone, the sea smashing on boulders far below and saltwater coating the sheer drop as the city lay like a dog curled at his master’s feet. The keep was impressive with dark blue roofing tiles edged with gilt, towers that clawed skyward with blue and white Melowynn banners snapping madly in the gusty wind.

The fortress held over forty sleeping chambers, vast kitchens, solariums, four ballrooms, sleeping quarters for the staff and guards, and an elaborate shrine to Ihdos where the king would attend morning prayer alone.

The entryway into the outer bailey was lined with carriages from the four corners of Melowynn. Many were built like ours, with large wheels, polished trim, and paint to match our house colors. I leaned out like a rag-boy Grandfather would say if he saw me and glanced behind us. The coach carrying Kenton and Beirich trotted along behind us, Stillcloud guards peppered around the envoys of the wood elves. Their wagonette was crafted of dark wood, open to the elements as neither enjoyed being cooped up like prickle hens, and pulled by two draft horses draped in ropes of ivy and wildflowers. Getting a small nod from Kenton, who was sitting beside his husband stiffly amid odd looks from the residents of Celear, I then looked forward. I spied several hulking dwarven carts pulled by enormous thick-furred goats with huge, curled horns. The yeti ruler was here as well for a carriage twice the size of an elven one waited ahead of us. Four massive ivory oxen, called cuth, stood in the sun with their tongues on the ground. The yeti and the beasts that served them did not tolerate the temperate climate in Celear very well.

Ahead of the sweltering yeti contingency sat a large carriage, brightly decorated in vibrant tones of blue, yellow, red, and green. The sides were open, unlike our conveyance, but the two Sandrayan emissaries inside the cart sat under a fringed covering. Both the dark-skinned elves were dressed in silken robes and headwear that draped down to cover the bottom halves of their faces. Long ears, much larger than the elves of the mainland, were showing and bejeweled with gems. They sat amid cushions in their open-air cart, talking to each other with graceful motions of their hands. Their guards sat cross-legged atop massive, humped creatures with flat feet, long necks, and thick eyelashes to keep the beast’s eyes free from the black sands that swirled on their island homes. The beast, called a quadoth in the Sandrayan tongue, made resonant grunting sounds as they stood in the sun while each carriage and its occupants were checked before being allowed into the palace proper. The Sandraya seemed to be quite comfortable in the late-season sun. Pity the yeti were not as acclimated to the warmth along the southern coast. Each Sandrayan guardian carried a pronged spear and looked to be quite at home atop their hulking rides.

“Pull your head back inside. You act like a rag-boy who has never laid eyes upon delegates from the far corners of Melowynn before,” Grandfather snapped.

I sat back down. He picked up a small, jeweled fan to cool himself. “I find this to be quite nonsensical making the grand advisor and the heir to the vills of Renedith sit and wait while bumbling royal guards rustle through our belongings as if we were commoners. I will make it a point to speak to the king’s secretary about this affront to the nobles.”

“They are only doing what needs to be done, Grandfather.” I handed him my flask of iced wine. He sipped it greedily. Those of us from Renedith enjoyed temperate weather with a slight dip when the seasons shifted. This heat along the coast was unpleasant, but it could be worse. We could be yeti melting like ice as we waited. “There have been some threats on the king’s life since he passed the newest law forbidding his subjects to dump their garbage into the sea.”

In truth, some were many, and the threats came over not only for refuse but increased taxes and changes being brought into law that the church found distasteful. Such as allowing a druidic temple to be built in the capital. Many cried that it was heresy. Many more whispered that I had the king’s ear, for who else amongst the noble houses had fought so valiantly for wood elves to worship their goddess alongside Ihdos than Aelir Stillcloud, the defiant heretic of Renedith. Umeris fretted over the whispers. I ignored them as I continued to fight for elves of all colors.

“I warned him to do so would be foolish and bring about more discord. Imagine such a thing as charging a fee to place one’s refuse into a container that would be gathered by governmental workers and then taken out to the farmers for them to work into their soil! More taxes levied on the people will surely bring ire on the king’s head.”

“I think it to be a fine idea.”

“Yes, you would. If I did not know better, I would think you had whispered this ridiculous recycling food waste plan in his majesty’s ear.”

“The ocean is not our midden heap, Grandfather. The fish and other beasts that live in its depths are—”

He waved a hand in the air. “Yes, yes, the fish. You sound more like the Amergin boy more and more every season. I knew when I read your parents’ request to ensure you were raised alongside a wood elf that it would breed nothing but radical unnatural thoughts in your head.”

“I’d say they were natural thoughts for most of the things that Kenton and the druidic elves embrace are good for nature, which in turn—”

“Are good for all elves. Yes, Aelir, I am aware. I have heard that line thousands of times since you were old enough to parrot the wood dweller’s thinking. Spare me from having to hear it now. My legs pain me, and this carriage is akin to sitting in a roasting pan inside an oven.”

“Let me go see what the delay is,” I said, eager to leave the carriage for some fresh air. He nodded, fanning himself harder, as I opened the door. V’alor instantly appeared before me, his dark eyes shining in his helm. Sweat beads stood out on his smooth upper lip. And Umeris complained about sitting in soft silken robes on pillowed seats with cool wine to sip. I could not imagine how hot it must be in full plate armor. “Grandfather is having a fit of the vapors—”

“I am not! I am upset at the time spent cooking in this damn carriage like a spring parsnip! This is unfitting an elf of my stature!”

V’alor and I exchanged a look. “His legs are swelling badly due to the heat. Can you send someone ahead to the palace gates to see how much longer it will be?”

“Yes, of course, Lord Aelir.” V’alor motioned Pasil up, exchanged words, and then sent his second off ahead. Tezen flew over. Pixies were incredibly curious. “Would the grand advisor wish for Beirich to come up to check on his legs?”

“No, I do not. I would rather have my toe fall off than sip some of those ill-brewed woodland droughts!” Grandfather snapped behind me. “I would like one of the royal healers, those who studied the sciences under the grace of Ihdos, to be summoned immediately.”

“I shall go find one,” Tezen graciously offered, zipping off at speed, sparkly purple dust billowing down from her blurring wings.

The line moved. The carriage rolled forward the length of a cart and stopped. I smiled wearily at V’alor as Umeris ranted inside our carriage.

“It has been quite the journey.” I sighed and got a knowing look from V’alor. “Will you come to my room before the welcoming feast to discuss security for the rest of the celebration?”

He knew well that security was not what I sought. We had not been together as lovers for several nights now, and I needed to feel his arms around me unhampered by satins, silks, or copper armor.

“I will, of course, do as bidden, my lord.” His reply was all that was proper and respectful. I wished for more. A touch, a kiss, anything, but that was not fitting and so he merely moved his gelding back into position, and I sat back down with a huff after closing the carriage door.

“What on earth is taking so damnably long? Do the dolts at the gates not know that there are elder elves who require salted taffy and tea at midday lest their acropathy flare up?”

Yes, it had been quite the journey. I swiped the sweat off my brow and focused on the man riding beside our carriage in glimmering copper plate. Not an easy task when my traveling companion was raving about salted taffy and tea.

After the long wait at the gates, we were finally cleared to enter after a healer came to see Umeris and moved us ahead of the other guests being searched. The yeti were not impressed, nor were the Sandrayan envoys. I would have to make sure to smooth things over at the welcoming meal this evening in the king’s grand hall. I’d gotten Grandfather settled in his suite with salted taffy—in four flavors—and tea, and his leg up on pillows as a royal healer rubbed minted lotion into his swollen toes and feet.

My room was on the western wing as was Umeris’s, overlooking the king’s garden. There were two areas to my crimson and white suite. One for bathing and one for sleeping. The bathing room was vast with a tub that could hold four grown men with ease. I’d requested scented hot water for the tiled tub as soon as I’d been led to my suite. The call of violet peacocks, gifts from the Sandrayan vahasi, roaming the grounds and mazes, floated into the double doors that stood wide open to allow the sea winds to race through. Clad only in a gossamer robe of palest blue, I waited impatiently for my lover to arrive. I suspected he had been busy getting the men settled in the basement area of the keep, where the unwed royal guards slept.

Now that the hot water was waiting for us, my impatience grew. Finally, after what seemed forever, a soft rap on my chamber door shook me from my growing ill humor.

“Come,” I called and V’alor entered, his armor dusty as his brown hair.

“You asked to see me before the welcome feast,” he said, nodding to the guard stationed outside my door.

“I did yes. Umeris will require a hand to the king’s hall,” I said as the door closed on silent brass hinges. As soon as I heard it click into place, I flung myself at V’alor, my mouth slamming over his in a mad, passionate kiss that he eagerly reciprocated. He smelled of horse, road dirt, and sweaty male. I cared not if he reeked. I would sponge all the stench from him shortly. His tongue swept into my mouth, his fingers cupping my bare ass as I clutched at his short, dark hair. My toes barely touched the cool white marble floor squares as we feasted on each other. “By Ihdos, you are what I need.”

“Do you not wish tea and salted taffy?” he teased as I dangled off him like a lovesick squirrel clings to an elm. My voluminous robe floated about us, the yards and yards of sky blue moving in the salty wind as we broke for air.

“No, I wish to strip you from this armor and taste your spend on my tongue,” I replied, releasing my hold on the back of his gritty neck. My bare feet touched the floor. He ran his fingers over my cheek as he stared down at me.

“You wish to play at being a human squire?” His hand moved to my shoulder to gather up a handful of long gold hair. He lifted it and let it fall over my back, baring my shoulder to his lips.

“Yes, I would play at that and much more,” I replied breathlessly as he nipped at my clavicle. “Please, let me free you from this plate now.”

“Always impatient. You get that from Umeris.” I slapped his shorn head gently and got a short, gruff chuckle. Then he released me. “Remove my armor, squire.”

I licked my lips and began removing things as quickly as I could. Chest plate. Clang to the tile floor. Pauldrons. Clang. Vambraces. Clang. Gauntlets. Clang. Grieves. Clang. Sabatons. Those I kneeled to take off, much to V’alor’s wishes against me kneeling to him. Once he was freed of his plate, I nudged it aside with my knees, moving closer to him now, my sight locked on his stiff prick hidden inside chausses and hose.

“So many layers,” I said as I tugged and pulled until his lower half was bare. My mouth watered as I eyed his shaft, fat and erect, his balls dangling heavily. I rubbed my cheek against his cock, eyes drifting closed, as I took his stones in hand. “I love the smell of you…”

And I did. He was musky, yes, and carried the clinging scent of horse on his sweaty skin, but that only added to my arousal. Those were things that I linked to V’alor, those scents, and it made my cock weep steadily as I inhaled deeply.

“You are indeed heat weary if my stench arouses you,” he said in a thick voice.

“Perhaps. Let me enjoy your salty spend and see if it lessens my malady as salted taffy does,” I teased, turning my head to run my tongue around his cockhead peeking out from his generous foreskin. His chuckle was short, shifting into a deep moan when I took his cock down my throat. He worked at the padded shirt he yet wore, pulling it over his head while trying to watch me sucking his cock. The shirt flew over by the double doors.

“By Ihdos,” he gasped as he threaded his fingers into my hair, pulling gently as I liked while I began sucking him wildly. Without warning, he pulled out of my mouth, gathered me up, and dropped us both into the bed. Tiny petals of pink willow exploded into the air. I landed slightly atop him, my robe floating down with the willow petals to tickle his rigid cock as it settled over his groin. “Aelir, you are a song in my heart.”

I felt light as the pink petals, perhaps even more so for they were bound to fall back to the ground. My heart soared higher as he pulled me down for a long, searching kiss. I was one with the gulls soaring over the white-capped waves. Wings spread, I rode the currents of his love higher and higher, each kiss propelling me to the very clouds.

“And you are the man who holds my heart and soul,” I replied, slinging a leg over his thighs, his cock and mine aligned for a moment before I rose up. His prick slid between my legs, the fat head slipping over my hole, his eyes wide as he felt the slickery slide of passion oil. My hair fell down around us, sealing us in a silvery-yellow wall as his sight held mine.

“Did you ready yourself?” he asked, his hands now gripping my hips as I wiggled back and down, sitting fully on his cock, then sliding down with ease.

“What else was I to do while I waited for my beloved to come to me?” I enquired, voice shaky, as my body stretched to accommodate him. His hips punched up. I gasped. My robe slid off one shoulder as we began to rut. My fingers bit into his pectorals. His heels dug into the thick mattress. His cock pounded in and out of me, hitting a tangled bundle of nerves deep inside me. I threw my head back, flipping my hair from my face as I rode him hard and fast, frenzied with lust, my cock bouncing. He grabbed it, gave it a squeeze, and watched with sultry brown eyes as my muscles contracted around him. My prick kicked, spewing spend over his chest and belly as I flew through the clouds to linger with the stars. I felt him stiffen and then fill me with seed, a growl of pleasure accompanying me on my flight to the heavens.

His seed leaking from me as we lay tangled and spent did little to rouse me from the bed. Languid and lazy, I folded over him, legs tucked back, my knees pinned to his hips, and gently tasted his mouth over and over.

“I wish we could be here like this for eternity,” I whispered between kisses. His gaze found mine and held it as if he searched for something vast in my sleepy eyes. I quirked an eyebrow, pushing up to sit, the movement pulling a soft moan from the man beneath me. His fingers, as always, found my hair and tangled in it. “Do you doubt that what I say is true?”

“No, I just find myself wishing for the same.” I smiled widely as he moved his fingers through my hair with astounding gentleness for such rough, scarred digits. “And I know that I should not think of such things, for they are as out of reach as the moon sisters.”

“But they are not,” I hurried to say before his mood shifted from this slumbersome humor back to his usual defiant one. “Our wishes can be attained. All I need do is announce to the good people of our vills that we are soul joined and that you would be at my side, not only as my guard captain but as my noble consort.”

His dreamy look turned sour. “Ah, so you would announce to all of Melowynn that I am naught but a concubine with a sword.”

I drew back as if slapped. It felt as if he had struck me. “That was not at all my meaning.” I slid off him, his flaccid cock slipping out of me, and went to leave the bed. His hand fell to my arm. I threw a glower at where he grasped my bicep, but he held firm.

“Aelir, please, stay.” My sight rose from his hand to his face. Still slick with sweat from our lovemaking, those umber eyes of his mournful now. “I did not mean to be so tart with you.”

“Then tell me why you are so reticent about us,” I said, settling my backside to the bed and then crossing my legs to study him. He blew out a long breath, his hand gliding down my arm to take my left hand in his right. “Your parentage means nothing to me.”

“It does to your grandfather as it rightfully should.”

Ugh. This man and his damnable shame. He wore his ignominy as he did his copper armor, only he never shed his disgrace as he did his plate.

“Your bloodlines mean nothing. Truly.” His lips pursed. “What would it harm to have a consort with common blood? We will never have children and I shall never wed anyone but you.”

“Someday, Aelir, you will need to produce offspring. That is a fact that you cannot shirk despite your love for me.”

“That day is far in the future. We have centuries ahead of us. I do not wish to reside in the possibility of what may come, V’alor.” I meshed his fingers with mine. “I want to live in this day, in our love, in the feelings that burst to life when I gaze upon you. I long to not hide our relationship for sneaking about sullies what we are to each other. Are you not proud to call me yours?”

“I would find no greater joy than to call you mine, but—”

“Ah! No, no but!” I wiggled closer, his hand clasped in mine. “Then we shall make an announcement of our relationship when we return to Renedith.”

“Umeris will—”

“Umeris will bluster and toss about outdated ideals. I care little for his antiquated views on most things so this will just be one more irksome pebble I toss into his slippers.”

He stared at me intently, his mind churning like the sand storms that spun across the Black Sand Isles. Or so I have heard about the sandy spin winds. I’d not ventured to the isles, few had, save the king’s secretary, and that just of late. Diplomacy with the Sandrayan people was tender yet and being handled with great care.

“Do you think that the people of our vills will honestly care little about my mother?” he asked, his voice that of a man but his question that of a small boy who had been teased unmercifully by the other children.

“They will care not. All they worry over is having enough to eat, enough gold, and ample peat to burn in the cool season. The only souls that will care about us is us.” I lifted his hand to my lips to kiss his knuckles. “Please, let us step out of the shadows, V’alor. Let our love shine for all of Renedith to see.”

His muscled chest rose and fell before he gave me a soft nod. “Very well. When we return to our vills, we can make our love known. It is not as if there are any who do not know I am warming your sheets every night.”

My heart nearly exploded with joy. I threw myself atop him, peppering his face and lips with kisses. His strong arm lay over my back as he moved me between his long legs.

“Thank you, thank you! We shall be so happy, V’alor! Every man and woman in Renedith shall be sick with envy when they see you at my side and know that you are mine: heart, body, and soul.”

He patted my bare buttock softly as I curled up on his chest like a cat in a ray of summer sun.

“It will be pleasing to see the look on a certain valet’s face when next you travel to the Mossbell lands,” he confessed, making me snicker.

“You have nothing to be jealous of,” I assured him, content as a lamb in a clover field, as my happiness settled in my breast. “None shall ever stand at my side other than you, V’alor.”

He said nothing in reply, practical man that he was, for he knew that someday, in the furthest future, that vow may be tested. But for now, and for many years to come, Ihdos hear my plea. My oath was as solid as the walls of this keep.