*Yawn*

Rick rises from his soft, leafy bed, letting the fresh air with a hint of nut waft around him as he entered the extensive veranda.

Refreshed like never before, he steps lightly on the wooden platform, waltzing around to the enchanting music that is carried by the wind.

It had only been mere hours of sleep, yet for him it felt like an eternity wrapped in the silky soft leaf blankets that held him snugly as a mother would hold their child.

Soon, the others woke up; First came Panthress, rolling calmly from her bed, hair disheveled yet still a content smile on her face.

Next was Graf and Lip, who unlike usual, were not bickering about this or that. Soon came Doronius, his face calm and not taut with nervousness and fear.

Finally, after a few more minutes of snuggling, came Grate and Chee, both yawning softly and beaming in the morning sunlight.

In those few minutes of waiting, everyone just relaxed in the sun, taking in the caressing warmth and the sweet air.

Silently, a pair of people entered the small, open tree-house that they were relaxing in; two elven maidens with slim yet buxom bodies wearing silks that covered much but hid little.

They brought fresh fruit and vegetables along with bread and honey, which was oddly satisfying for such a simple meal.

With thanks, everyone sat uncaring on the wooden floor and began eating their meal ravishingly; well the women started eating at least.

The men were feasting with their eyes, for such silver haired, thinly veiled women were a sight to behold for most of them.

Once the maidens had silently stepped away, the morning feast began en masse and everyone talked of sweet nothings, with a slight hint of worry for Cannith, who they had almost forgotten about.

In the midst of their meal came Sleek, who they had almost mistaken for an elf at a distance due to his straight black hair, slightly pointed ears and more obviously, his garments, silk made from leaves.

“Where have you been off to Mr fancy?” Grate asked after gulping down the bite of her honeyed apple.

Sleek just looked distantly into the air, oblivious of everything as he sat down and took something to eat without noticing.

“It’s obvious the man got some last night” Lip grunts and grins to which Chee cocks her head in confusion.

“Lip!” Grate covers Chee’s ears and reprimands Lip, who just shrugs his shoulders.

“So Sleek…” Doronius looks towards the entranced man, snapping his fingers and finally breaking whatever trance he was in. “Did you do the deed?”

Sleek just lies down, caressing his pear lovingly. “Her hair was like velvet and her lips, softer than the softest silk”

“So how was her pussy?” Lip waggles his eyebrows crudely to which Grate, still covering Chee’s ears glares angrily, while Panthress gives the kid a whack around the head.

Sleek didn’t seem to have noticed, and just rolled around, stars dazzling in his eyes, while everyone else slowly got back to their meals, a mountain of varied questions forming in their minds.

Their thoughts were interrupted by a long haired, well muscled male elf silently appearing in their lodge, bowing towards them and telling them the lord is ready to meet them.

Calmly, they all lined up and started walking across the precarious bridges, swaying slightly, but maintaining balance quite well.

They had been here but a few nights, but they felt like they had gotten used to it; the beds, the food, the constant lulling songs coming from harpists in the distance and the slightly swaying bridges.

As they walked, they woke up a bit more along with the sun and soon Rick asked their guide whether he could take them to see Cannith after their meeting. The elf nodded to their relief.

Walking through the many tree houses, they are greeted by the many residents, who give gallant greetings, the children even hugging them good morning.

Blissful as newborn babies, they travelled along the treetops, till they reached a large tree-house, spreading across sixteen trunks and layering three stories.

It was the first time they had seen such a thing, a huge castle on the trees, all made from wood, yet still delicately carved and built.

Entering the castle, they are merrily greeted by the guardsmen as they pass by.

Walking through the sunlit corridors, they slowly make their way through the castle, being greeted with kind maids, guards and even a young elf in royal livery gave a kind smile before disappearing off.

Eventually, they arrived at the throne room, being let in immediately.

Entering the throne room, their eyes were baffled by the amount of sunlight beaming into the room.

Once their eyes were used to the dazzling light, they saw that the back wall was a thick trunk, a throne carved into it, in which seated an elderly elf with greying hair and slightly drooping skin.

“Welcome dear guests, I am Larathion, of the House Quinethar. You are most welcome in my kingdom” He bows lightly towards the group, who in turn kneel and bow in respect as they thought fit.

“So tell me my Grace, why did you call us here?” Rick, taking charge, stands up with a query.

“It is a matter about your friend who is in need of medical attention” The king spoke gravely, to which the entire group looked up in worry. “We have done what we can, but his wounds are still worsening”

“Is there anything you can do?” Grate blurts out.

“Yes, there is a ritual we can perform…”

“But you can’t because?” Doronius skeptically asks.

“We can’t because he is not elven kin, it is forbidden under the writes of our god Fleelf to perform such a ritual on humans”

“And why is that?” Chee asks innocently, cocking her head in curiosity as she stands up

“I am not a priest and do not question the laws of my god” The king says devoutly while closing his eyes in prayer.

“Then why tell us?” Panthress stands up as well

“Because there is a way for him to become elven kin…Through marriage” The elven king waited with bated breath, awaiting a reaction from them, but all he got was raised eyebrows.

“Ok, great…what does this have to do with us?” Rick asked with questioning gestures.

“A marriage requires the consent of the groom and bride, or in the case of neither being of age or ability to consent, that right is given down to their guardians, which in this case is all of you”

The group balked at the quite medieval rules, but then nodded in understanding at what should be done.

“Who is he marrying?” Sleek stands up, both excited and fearing.

“A merchant’s daughter who has gladly given consent” The king motions and a plain elven woman, as plain as one can be being a sharp faced, long haired and forest green eyed elf.

With a further question from the king whether they would give consent, almost all of them did, almost all.

Two abstained; Chee and Doronius.

Everyone looked at both of them.

“What if he doesn’t like her?” Chee says innocently, to which Grate crouches down and looks at her younger self in the eyes.

“my little Chee, he’ll be fine, trust me” She ruffled Chee’s hair, who then consented.

Everyone’s eyes now turned to Doronius.

“It just seems suspicious” He narrowed his eyes, peering at the king untrustfully.

“Doronius, you mistrust everything” Rick blurted out, to which the rest nod.

“Fine, fine. Go ahead, but don’t blame me for what happens next” He raises his hands defensively and gives his consent.

With a unanimous consent, a certificate is signed for the man, whose name they still don’t know and Merianda.

The elves begin their preparations for a wedding, to be celebrated under the full moonlight, while the group of archers, were introduced to a lavish feast, held by the king himself.

All was merry as they ate fresh food and drank fine wine, all except for Lip and Chee. But even then, those two were snuck some wine by some crafty and kindly elves.

Harpists struck their chords while singers let mellow words flow from their silver tongues.

Music and laughter filled the air as the sun rose high into the sky and before it fell past the midday, many were drunk inside the great hall.

Sleek had left early on; being sought out by a light brown haired petite elf, who took him away in as secret as one can in the midst of an open feast.

Chee was next to leave the table by the king, for a young elf in royal garb took her and danced with her in the middle stage.

Grate watching over her younger self, became distracted by both wine and a lean yet muscular man with dreamy eyes and soft, long hair.

They too had disappeared for a more ‘private’ conversation.

Panthress, flushed red cheeks and cackling with unstoppable laughter, had joined the dance floor, only to fall on it and be merrily carried away to sleep off the wine.

Rick, despite being a lanky guy, could hold his drink and had entered in a drinking contest with a group of elves, laughing heartily as one by one they dropped under the table, until finally, he dropped under, snoring like the drunk he was.

Lip had spilt some wine over himself while relaxing on the lap of a motherly elf. She walked him away to clean his shirt, to which he gave Graf a dirty grin before they left.

Graf had dully noticed Lip disappearing, but amidst all the smoke emitting from his herbal cigarette smoking circle of old men, he couldn’t be sure. Plus not everything he was seeing was real due to the hallucinogenic effects of the herbs.

Doronius, the last of them to remain on the table, by evening had finally given in to the requests of many buxom, thinly veiled women, who asked to pour and serve him drink.

He gladly nodded off after three drinks, snoring lightly and carried away by a muscular man.

The muscular man carried Doronius through the halls of the castle, but never left it, actually he passed by the front door.

Taking the stairs down, the muscular man reaches a thick wooden door, glossed like steel.

Placing Doronius carefully on the ground, he fumbles for his keys.

Grabbing the required one, he puts it in the door and turns the key, suddenly feeling lightheaded as if all the blood had gone from his head.

He died, wondering why, as blood spurted viciously from his sliced neck.

Someone caught him, and carefully placed him on the ground.

“Hmm, dying from one critical, these guys shouldn’t be too high level then” Doronius looked bemused at the corpse, slightly tipsy, but his liver is much stronger than he had let on.

Opening the door, he saw a few of his comrades chained to the dungeon wall; Panthress, Rick and Graf, who was laughing maniacally at some hallucination, while the other two were out cold.

Also, in the center of the room was their mission, looking healthier and seemingly healed, yet still unconscious.

Throwing the dead elf inside, he unlocks the chains of everyone and leaves them inside, while he closes the door and sneaks away, clutching his dagger, believing he can’t help his comrades at this moment in time.

He knew something was up the moment the elves became super friendly to them. He was always an untrusting man and unexplained kindness was always an alarm for him.

Getting out of here should be his priority, but finding his companions would help him better in the long run.

Though something topped all those needs; the certificate needed to be destroyed, since it was obvious now that it was their plan to marry that man. Why, Doronius doesn’t know, but he suspects the elves know the man more than they let on.

So he sneaked across the empty corridors, thankful that everyone was celebrating so he would not encounter any more people.

That idea was dashed when he turned the corner.

“Oh hey ther-what’s with the knife?” A fat elf with short brown hair squinted in surprise towards Doronius, more so when the knife reached his throat stopping just millimeters away.

“Where are the King’s chambers?” He asked with a tone of no tolerance.

The fat elf wobbled in fear. “I-I can take you there, please don’t kill me”

“How can I trust you?” Doronius narrowed his eyes, whispering with a deadly lacing.

“Because I don’t want to die” He almost burst in tears while whispering in blubbered words.

Doronius nodded and motioned for the fat man to lead.

While they walked down the corridor, the fat man stealthily looked at the mirror in his pocket, seeing a grayish blue Tandra shrug her shoulders since she couldn’t see Doronius nor hear him.

Palock silently tsched at his bad luck being stuck in such a situation, since he was trying to find the man and this sidetracked him.

He would’ve full on cursed if he knew that, just a corridor away, a certain individual was strolling about, two curved spears

embedded in his beginner clothing, but he wasn’t minding them in the slightest.

“Really, why is everyone hurting me in this kingdom?”