Alfýkin: The Last of the Elves

Nara

"Now, show me the mark."

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Illeandir flinched and the edge of the knife nicked his throat, drawing a thin line of blood. His heart raced with sudden fear.

"What mark?" Illeandir managed to asked. The man grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled Illeandir's head back so far he could barely swallow or move.

"The Mark of the Betrayer."

"I do not know what you speak of." Illeandir forced out slowly. The pressure on his throat made speaking difficult. The man smiled cruelly.

"Then we'll just have to find it. Won't we, men?" he said. The men cheered. The man who held Illeandir flicked his hair away from his neck revealing the elf's pointed ears. "Well, well. What do we have here?" Though his voice held no hint that he was surprised his eyes did. "An elf. What a pleasant surprise." His men stopped cheering and muttered amongst themselves nervously. He tapped his dagger against Illeandir's ear thoughtfully. "What to do with you?" he mused. Illeandir tensed. What were they going to do?

"Why don't we start with you telling us why an elf would visit the White City."

Illeandir glared at him. "As I've told you before, I am visiting a friend." The man chuckled.

"And why would an elf be friends with a man?" the man asked. Suddenly there was shouting from the rear of the spearmen surrounding them. A small figure strode through them in a storm of anger. The soldiers parted before them and bowed low.

"Harding! Let the man go!"

"My lady!" Harding exclaimed dropping Illeandir who scrambled away gasping for air and rubbing his throat, his hand came away bloody. The woman, though much shorter than any of the men, claimed the attention of the entire courtyard as if she were ten feet tall and sported wings of fire. Her eyes were flames of blue fire matched by a simple blue and silver threaded dress. Curly dark blonde hair was held up with a band of white pearls and flowers, a silver circlet rested on her brow. Her lips formed a thin line of displeasure. She crossed her arms across her chest and waited, glaring at Harding.

"Explain yourself!" she demanded. Harding bowed low.

"Princess, you are most beautiful this..."

"Enough! Skip the pleasantries." she shouted. Harding blanched. He fumbled for his next words.

"He snuck in through gates without permission from the king! Only a spy would do that."

"Really?"

"Yes! I also have reason to suspect this elf is a spy for the enemy."

"Elf?" the princess looked at Illeandir in a new light. "Did you say he is an elf?" Excitement crept into her voice.

"Yes. I did. An elf and a spy so I took it upon myself to punish him."

"Fool! You blithering fool of a man! You had no authority to act as you did!" the princess shouted, very nearly backhanding Harding but at the last moment restrained herself. "You are dismissed from your duties."

"But my lady..."

"No! I will not hear it. You have proven yourself incapable and are therefore punishable."