(~~music: 'Kirkoid - Space Bazooka'~~)
[Single-afternoon set of scenes strung together. What's worse than getting tied up by a dark elf? Getting tied up by a childhood friend dark elf. There's no opportunity for redeeming yourself at that point; it's all about survival. I had some scenes in mind, and put a minimal story framework around them; could be expanded to actually flesh out earlier happenings.]
[Dark Elves, childhood friends, and sweet summer nights. Surprise attack, rope, gadgets, pillows, loving assault, and more sappy cheesy romance coming from a source of true evil than a hero could ever bear. Well, a dark elf's idea of romance - tie him up, and figure out the rest from there. And it works...somewhat. Both of them sort of stumbled along awkwardly beforehand, not quite smooth in their respective approaches and the overall scheme not quite thought through by her (What do you mean, do not leave unattended?), but luckily, an advisor appears, the universe got them together anyway, and miraculously, things work out, breaking through the double barrier of dense awkwardness, even when they aren't quite savvy yet with the whole 'relationship' thing...or the 'bedroom thing'. But she has a script, okay? Adulting seems hard, but dark elves find a way. Unapologetically bad english, and worse storytelling.]
Everything was a blur. The receding summer heat of the afternoon, with a gentle breeze from out the slightly opened window, the ropes tying his body, gently teasing its contours by digging into them softly, the pillows he had been so securely positioned on, shifting his weight just enough to make it practically impossible to escape. But it wasn't the pillows that had kept him so long from even being able to turn around and sit up. It hadn't been the shirt either, unworn but purposefully scented with her perfume, stuffed into his mouth and savely kept in place with an adorning scarf, preventing any muffled yelps from reaching ears outside the window. It hadn't been the fact that apart from his bindings and shorts, he was naked. No.
It was the vibrators and stimulating zap cords, wiring him up far above and decisively below his shorts, keeping him in an additional embrace to the meticulous knotwork, like a loosely wrapped christmas tree. An embrace that, unlike the web it was spun around, did not so much restrain him physically.
It just made it really hard to control his limbs, even within the limited range he had to wiggle, and spun a tight cocoon around his mind, the heat, the slow, rhythimcal, but merciless assault on all his senses, the edge that kept him forever in the skies without a chance of finding hold, even for a single thought, as everything was pulling at him, pushing at him, a cloud keeping him from finding hold- or rather, the opposite.
Very much the opposite.
After what could have been many minutes or several hours clouded by the pink fog crafted around his perception, the clouds must have covered the sun's rays outside. Or maybe they had from the beginning, and he had simply never had the chance of noticing anything further than skin-touching distance.
He was occupied, to say the least, but finally, after an eternity of failing even to simply be able to hold on to the thought, he had managed to sit up.
Just before the assault restarted, and almost made him fall back again, eyes turning glassy in the daze he had been made to indulge in so heavily already.
The emotions within him were as unstable as his shivering sitting position, panic to fall back again, endless touch still keeping him from thinking clear, the whispers on his skin so expertly making his brain go silent.
No. He had to - "MNNNNNNnnnnnnghhh..." He tilted! He tilted over! No! He managed to catch himself. A war of incredible dimensions, atop a bed equipped with pillows holding a fortifying ring, a barrier he had finally, finally climbed atop. Well, 'climbed' was maybe the wrong term. But what mattered was that he...he...
He realized that the procedure had had him so occupied, his plan hadn't even extended further than what he had been able to see when he had been tucked away in the central niche.
Away. Yes. Up from the bed. Could he stand? Up to now, the pillows had made the many falls back into pleasure an obscenely soft endeavour, but the solid floor would be less inviting. Still. He had to. He-
He remembered the rhythm he really should know by heart by now, and waited wisely.
Eventually, he could think again, and he was still wiggling on top of the fortress wall.
Escape. Yes. It was amazing that he could move altogether, but the ropes had given him enough leeway to suffer his fate without too much restriction on top of the necessary. Okay, maybe some extra ornate layers of rope. A minor amount of decorative bindings pronouncing his outlines. A handful of extra knots, at best. What could you do, really.
He wasn't able to run, or, well, walk, but at least he could hop around. And his hands were technically free. Just in a rather unhelpful location, firmly positioned at the center of his back.
Click! The sound made him almost jump, or rather, jump but not in a good way, but it was only a remote, the cable hanging from his shape, connecting to the wooden floor. But a hero does not falter. Or faceplant. One currently much more important than the other, as he caught his breath - and remembered what was about to come.
"Gnh!" The new sensation, the cold floor under his bare feet helped him to stay somewhat level-headed. He had no idea how long he had been lying there. But it felt like it had been a long time, much longer than the position of shadows outside the window did justice. He could see out of there now. Not much to see, a sleeping, cozy district of small apartments, gardens and occasional family houses. Noone passing by - no, he couldn't remain waiting here. What was he doing, spending time looking out the window? He had to take action. And he tried to think real hard.
He couldn't shout. He couldn't walk, thanks to the suit that somewhat fit the temperatures - no. No season could match this devilish outfit. But maybe there were some scissors around. A kitchen? Did dark elves have kitchens? He didn't recall much from when she had carried him in, the memories as distant as the summers of their childhood, occasional encounters in the neighbourhood, pranks on each other, eventually seeing each other less. Harmless. Until today.
"Gnh." Only one way to find out. And the hero, the hero, the hero valiantly hobbled and hopped to the door like a bunny, and really, really, really hoped she hadn't...
The gods smiled upon his bravery. It opened.
An apartment with a central pathway, like thousands of others, really not showing off her comfortable heritage, but then again, for students, it accounted for a palace, he thought as he looked for...any room, really. He had the hunch she very much wasn't the type to have scissors in the bedroom, but other than that, he was out of clues. Better than his cramped one-room situation with a shared bathroom for the whole floor. Still, he really had grown attached to the place. It had the significant advantage of no devious, devious...
Dark elves. Now, he didn't jump or yelp. Much. A hero was a hero. And before him stood another figure, outsizing his a bit as usual, but even slightly more than Hers. A new face, maybe a tiny bit older, hard to say for ageless beauty with the most alarming, terror-inducing demeanor.
A face with a relaxed smile, safe in her own kingdom, standing up from what must have been a relaxed day of reading or studying, something on the table hidden behind her. On the plus side, he had found the kitchen, and even unholy dark elves' kitchens probably had to have blades, even if they weren't quite enthusiastic about them, not nearly as much as stories would have you believe. What's not to love? Cutting through bindings within less than-
"Gnnhgh! Mhhhp! Mhhh!" He was reminded of his predicament, and added some hopefully clear pleas for mercy.
"She's so careless. I keep telling her that! At least she got herself together, but..." What?
Careless? The spawn of smug comeuppance? The mastermind of intricate but hilariously harmless schemes? The- alright, not so harmless any more. It was hard to adjust his view of Her, still holding Her almost as the platonic childhood friend he was used to remembering Her as.
Focus, hero. Focus! There's business at hand, dragons to slay - metaphorically, thank the gods, but not much less dangerous, one incarnation of dread right before him; "Mhnghm!" The fearless hero placed his demands for help, his orders for alliance, as surely there had to be some tiny speck of mercy in-
"That's how she lost her things in the first place! Not keeping them together." "Mhnm?" For some reason, that did not sound like mercy. The hero didn't like how that sounded. He hopped a step back, and almost fell backwards! But faster than light, a hand with the forces of the heavens, an arm like lightning, a shadow with footwork like a dancer kept on the edge, yeah his metaphors and associations might not make entirely make sense at the moment with his brain occupied like this, caught him.
If smugness was a concept that could have a face attached to it, it was looking at him right now from slightly above. "I have an idea." Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh-
"Mhngmhmm?" A last plea. It fell on beautiful, flawless, oh so treacherously sensitive and fascinatingly shaped, but seemingly deaf magical ears. Hands clapped together, looking at him like a pretty cat to pet and put a ribbon on. Danger approached. Or rather, danger was in the castle and rummaging through the cellars at this point.
"She's been so proud of herself! I can't let a flatmate down like this when they finally get their act together. No, this is an excellent opportunity for demonstration. A learning experience. Don't you agree?" "Mhhmmm! Mhmmmm! Mhhng-" The vibrators and zapping teasing gadgets contributed to the discussion, cutting off the heroes' breath mid-sentence, if one could call it that. But that wasn't the only thing messing with his balance, physical and mental, as he was swiftly put into a position familiar by now, promising peril. More precisely, hanging over an unbending shoulder, this time the one of an unknown foe, ignoring all the heroes' threats - though there weren't many, his limits already tested by the battering onslaught of elven malice in the hours beforehand. Had it been hours? "Hmmph!" "Don't try to stand up, you'll fall on your face." He was seated in front of what looked like harmless, oh so attractive dead-boring papers of coursework notes. Yet for some reason, he couldn't quite find the resolve to study right now.
Somewhere behind him, a door opened, more rummaging was done, more...really? Did any of these demonic impersonations of menace NOT have rope lying around? "Hnmhnmhm." He tried to stand up. Several times. Meanwhile, she looked at the ceiling. "It's always nice to have housing accomodate for your needs." What? But revelation followed swiftly. Floor, table, whatever. More knots, elegant fingers testing the work of the old ones, not too tight, not loose enough to risk injury. "Solid work for a rookie." More weavings. "Mhngmhpmmm!" Vibrators reminding of their presence, and even more exposing postures forced upon him, wrapped in an artful arc bending his being, limbs and ropes all flowing to a central point behind him, a position that very much emphasized his...let's call it 'back'. And front. And then, flight was achieved. It was stunning. Moreso even than the permanent suppression fire of elven attacks still haunting, never abandoning his mercilessly massaged sensitive parts, all of them and plenty more. The binds suspended him in just the right ways to make the ropes seem like another hug, a spider's grasp too firm and expertly distributed to fail. Spiders? If only. No, this was much, much worse. Something covering his sight, keeping him from the one thing that could give him leeway - you had to pretend to have SOME silver lining there - by taking away his sight of the scene. It appeared that the sight from above of his assailant's flawless bust, if slightly too vast for his tastes and distinctively wider than Hers, was something rather held to be exclusive. If he would have been able to think, he'd be glad he was not part of that circle, for he already had a lot wrapped around him at the moment.
"Hm. Yep! Seems good. Now, one last thing..."
Evil syllables, no doubt.
"She really should have set them to 'high' from the beginning."
And with that, the heroes' world suddenly became very, very small again, and dark elves really had no right to be able to focus on studying considering all the noise, or maybe she just left, as there was no way to tell. Except that she really had looked too smug to leave.
The wisdom of physics that time really has no meaning when being weightless, without mass, floating in undefined space, suddenly became more relevant than it ever should really be in an upstanding heroes' life. Science? That thing that had promised some sort of certainty some ages ago? Yeah, not with dark elves. Or spiders. Or dragons. Or...okay, as aimless as the thoughts were that occasionally carved themselves into his busy conscious, that was where they ended.
At some point, the vibrations must have stopped. Empty batteries? A gift of the universe! A- Never mind, one was still wohohoooooooooorkinnnnngg...
Mewing, squeaking kittens probably sounded different than squirming, moaning, whimpering heroes losing their sanity. But not by much.
A door opened. Or did it? Again, it was the first sound from further than touch distance that he'd been able to notice in a while. A draft of air.
"Oh!" Her voice. Amused? Surprised? A bit off her footing for a split second? Not that that would last for more...Still, it had been a long time since he had heard Her with that tone of voice. Had it been when he had surprised her, distracted her and snatched a cookie from her hands when they had still been children? A memory she must have forgotten long ago, and he thought he'd have too, brought back in an instance.
A door closed. "Well, that's one way to leave a letter..." Huh? Paper beneath, some gentle waving in his position. Apparently, he had been used as airborn anchor for a convenient note holder...not that he'd been able to notice at all.
"It would not be appropriate for a dark elf's ally to put themselves in disgrace in public view. Careful to not let them run off. Good knots though. Signed, flatmate." A bit of a pause. "Who signs as 'flatmate'? Still, nice of her..."
Ally? ALLY? A- oh gods, the last man standing, the last gadget playing its instrument with devotion. Who made these things?!? "Mhhnhgmhmphmmmmmm!" No, there definitely was no childhood memory where the hero had sounded familiar to THAT sound. Okay, maybe once, but it had not been his fault...
"Oh! I should not leave you waiting! Sorry..." A voice so familiar, now almost bringing salvation, compared with the bigger evil that he had encountered. No, as more childhood memories played in his head - really inappropriate timing for these by the way, brain! - a voice that would never let him down. Well, except now, literally rather than figuratively. A hero touched the floor, saw light for the shortest time, had his limbs freed - well, comparatively, freed of one layer at least - and was instantly hugged by darkness again, his jaw's outline digging far into soft, soft elven flesh. She really had grown up since then. Sound stopped, but if it wouldn't, he would have heard a click rather than feeling it. A last figurative man of what had been an army, finally allowed to rest until recharge. His hair was caressed for a while with one hand securing it to her warm, breathing chest, his back and limbs thoroughly inspected for scratches. Something was said, but it was dark and the words were muffled. Whatever that sentence was, it was safe to assume that it was evil. And then, unlike his travels through this place so far, a princess carry back to where he had come from. He had tried so hard, and gotten so far - to the kitchen! But in the end, it hadn't mattered much, as the pillows were still waiting, and greeted him gently as she stashed away whatever she had carried with her on the outside, and slipped into something more comfortable than her already light summer clothing - this wasn't the moment for dignified, fancy clothes. It was time to sit back, relax, to gently kiss his heated cheek...
"You must be dehydrated!" Yes. No! What could this mean? Gentle hands, exploring his skin inch by inch, now taking all the time they wanted for an in-depth..."Hmnnnnnnnnghmmmmmmmmm." Well, that was a solo, and it hadn't been caused by an electric instrument. No, an all organic, pulsating connection. He melted in her hands, the directions of 'up' and 'down' flew around, a hug made earlier ropework seem like loose tangential wrappings, and time stood still again. His brain had had a hard day keeping up with all the developments, and it seemed like it had finally taken the rest of the evening off, drifting into- JOLT! AAAAhhh! COLD! COLD! COLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLDCOLD! In his boxers, no, much worse, in- "Ice cubes. Truly a worthy human invention." A hummed, endearing phrase, a song of honey and love. Or something like that. Words really didn't mean much right now. One hand held him to her, the other kept the new torture instrument right where it- the hero realized he was making all kinds of sounds, and it really wasn't possible to stop them, as he twitched under the torture, his pulsating body and hers synchronizing occasionally, and transferring the signal of proximity to each other in between.
Yeah, his brain really didn't have much to say right now. But if it would, it would probably revolve around horrible, horrible elven torture. Certainly. Absolutely. She played with his hair again, and slowly, slowly, the icecube melted away.
He was dead. And judging from his fate, he hadn't quite made it up to heaven. Heaven had to be cooler - but not as cool as ice cubes. Very much not as cold as ice cubes. Outside, a breeze blew away the dust of the day as the sun set in the distance.
How had it come to this? He wasn't a bad person. All he had done was to try and find his way. The economy had changed, and not to the advantage of students - or rather, giving only very specific arrangements to human ones. Rent had been harder to come by, for the pitiful place he had been able to secure. And then, today. A graduation gem, required by rituals both ancient and novel, to pass. The reason he had hardly been able to pay the rent, to save up for one. And it was just lying there! Out in the open! It was surreal. More surreal than finding out his childhood nemesis was studying in the same city, and meeting her again occasionally, their challenges to outwit each other same as always, with him clearly victorious most of the time, as always. Anyone could have taken the gem and sold it to desperate students, unlike him, as he would have brought it to the offices right the next day. He would...he had been caught red-handed. By her. Before he had been able to do as much as put it in his pocket. Threatened to be accused of thievery, guilted into 'making up his latest misdeed unto her', although weirdly, she had not nearly taken it as personal as would be warranted, which was weird especially considering their common past. No, she hadn't been bothered. Maybe she was much, much more well-off than he had thought? Maybe wealth didn't mean much to her? But then, what else- gem and hero vanished, quickly snatched from the premises, one tucked away in folds, the other dropped over the shoulder to soon meet a similar fate regardless of protests.
"If I take off that beautiful scarf hiding that even more beautiful face, will you be polite?"
It wasn't a question, or a dare, or a threat, the opposite in fact. If anything, it was the most understanding, warm, playful voice he could imagine. He could have used his entire - admittedly limited - vocabulary to curse her, and she'd remain unfazed by the heroe's rightful wrath. No, he knew her. She wasn't petty. She was resting within herself. She didn't need affirmation. She knew what she was. She...
Before he could really make up his mind, or rather realize that he was supposed to have his trail of thoughts end somewhere productive, she removed the seal, and quickly replaced it.
With a kiss, as deep and long as the trench she had been through until she had found him again. But dark elves wouldn't be dark elves if they could keep their cursed hands to themselves. Technically, the hero didn't moan, because his tongue was busy. Only a slight improvement to his honor, maybe, but at this point...he was probably down to taking what he could get. Or what was left. Not that honor was on his mind right now, or anything else further than...well, a pattern had emerged today. Further than skin-touching distance away, as life devoured him, explored him, entangled him, drowned him in its never-again-opening embrace. Ropes where meaningless compared to this partial yet utterly complete enclosure. A hero had fallen. And he had fallen just into the right hands to keep him safe.
He didn't even realize she had undone his bindings. He was too spent for it to make a difference. A loving, eternal stare into his eyes, hazel gates to the abyss with a hint of purple in them, or maybe that was the amber light of the redecing sun filling the room. "I think it's time to clean my favourite cookie." Elves. Elves never forget. And dark elves...
Dark elves took interest. Especially when it came to showers. In the cooling, much needed fog of water, he finally had time to inspect her, if only a fraction as thorough as she had done to him. She truly had grown up, and almost by instinct, he returned the favor of her washing him. At some point, it ended in another hug. Maybe they did things. Maybe he said things. Maybe his tongue was still too tired. He just didn't know.
In retrospect, it was a blessing that she had swiftly removed his clothes at the very start; it had kept them clean. Except for the shorts...which she luckily had a replacement prepared for. Why? And why did it fit perfectly? And...
"Is that my sweater?" So THAT was where it had gone. "Summer nights are cold." Yes. That explained everything. For sure.
"Now. You have been found guilty of crimes against the people. What do you say in your defense?" Huh? Where did that come from?
"...Didn't I just pay for that?" Hope. There had to be hope. Else, there was only darkness...
"Sure. I was just thinking that a movie night here is better than at your place." Movie night? That didn't sound so- right. Dark elves. Brain, focus, for once, dammit.
"...Sure." The hero's words had been spoken, the syllables coming down with infallible certainty, falling from the early stars in the night sky like a hammer of justice. Okay, a weightless, floating hammer. Maybe not as grave as the crimes inflicted on his soul that day...
"Great!" She bounced, excited and overjoyed, and for one second, they were there again, back in nowhere, holding hands, counting the stars.
Memories. Memories, forgotten until they returned. Something came to mind. Something he had to right, right now...
"Listen, about that gem...I'm sorry. I really shouldn't-"
"Huh?" Had his surprise attack caught the enemy off guard? It seemed so. "Oh! Right. That thing. Whatever. Forget about it. Or, well..."
Danger. Danger, approaching like a smug, hungry shark in waters far from the coast, circling towards a snack. "Keep it." Why did she look so smug? Why was that so important? It didn't make sense. As usual. The legions of evil needed no rational excuse for their misdeeds...
She kissed him again. "I'll get us something. Don't run off again! Or if you do, do it fast. I'm not sure what my flatmate would do...these things really shouldn't have a 'high intensity' setting." A bit of an apology...but not too much.
Truly, there was no allegiance deeper than that of kinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn- she kissed him again, and his brain went on a loop.
Finally, reluctantly, they separated. A whisper in his ear.
"Oh, and by the way..." A hold around his core, more unbreakable than steel or thousand layers of rope...
"Don't worry about rent." A most mischievous or utterly smitten smile. A wink, a bounce, and a bubbly dark elf made her way to the kitchen to grab some snacks. And in that moment, she felt thankful. To her flatmate, to the world in general, but most of all, to humanity for being so damn wonderfully perfectly flawed.
Because in that moment, she was the happiest force of evil in the world.
And for some reason, it was contagious. No. That was not even remotely the correct term, a term that was so wrong and yet so right, more than anything else.
It was... mutual.
And that was all there was to say about it.