Grace for The Fallen

The Elves

Daetheia Grace

I woke up but didn't open my eyes. Something was wrong. I could feel it. I slowly reached out my hand to the soft blanket over my chest and rubbed it between my fingers. My heart started beating faster. This was not my bed. I slowly opened my eyes, and when I saw the room I was in my eyes flew wide open. This was not my room. Suddenly I heard a deep breath next to me and gave a little yelp. I hadn't seen anybody else in the room with me. I looked to the side and saw nobody, just a lump under the... oh. There was somebody underneath the blanket.

I slowly pulled the blanket up, and sighed in relief when I saw who it was. Tony. Thank goodness.

"Tony," I whispered, trying to wake him up, "Tony!" He groaned softly, and his eyelids fluttered. I sighed in relief. While he was waking up, I looked around the room again. The style was elegant but slightly crude, like a sophisticated dresser carved out of rough stone. The bed we were in was big and comfortable, the mattress moulding to my back perfectly. From the floral patterns all around the room, I would say that this was a woman's room. I felt a poke on my shoulder. I looked over to see Ariston looking at me, his eyes wide.

"Tay," his voice was hoarse, "We were kidn*pped!" I looked at him a bit sceptically. I mean sure we were in a different room and everything but... kidn*pped?

"Are you sure?" I asked him.

"Yes! I remember! I was sleeping and then I woke up because I felt something weird, like someone was watching me. Then someone put their hands over my mouth and held me down, and injected something into my neck, and then I passed out. So...where did they take us? I thought it was the Elf-killers, but this doesn't seem like something they would do... in fact, it doesn't really seem like something any kidnapper would do. I wonder..."

"Tony," I snapped, stopping his rambling. He always talked more when he was nervous.

"Sorry," he muttered. I sighed. I was about to say something reassuring when the door was suddenly flung open.

"Hi! You're finally awake!" The chirpy voice came from a little girl in a yellow dress, standing in the hallway, with her blonde hair tied with yellow bows in two plaits. She looked about 10 years old. She skipped to the side of the room and opened the curtains, letting the golden sunlight spill through the large windows. I looked at her, then started and looked again. In the light of the sun, I could see her more clearly. And her skin was... purple? Oh, my eyes widened in realization, and I glanced at her ears, She's an Elf.

"Y-you're an Elf," I stuttered, "But-but that's impossible," she giggled.

"Not impossible, silly, not in The Valley," she came over and sat on the edge of the bed. I glanced over at Tony and saw him looking at her in confusion and slight awe.

"You're an Elf?" He asked softly. She giggled again and nodded.

"I'm Lydia," she introduced, "What are your names?"

"Uh, I'm Ariston," Tony replied, still looking slightly dumbstruck.

"And I'm Daetheia," I said. Lydia nodded thoughtfully.

"Day-tay-a," she pronounced slowly, then grinned widely, "I like it," she pronounced, "It's a very pretty name."

"How old are you?" Tony asked gently, seeming to break himself out of his stupor.

"Ten and four months," she replied proudly.

"Wow!" Tony acted shocked, and I smiled inwardly. He always was great with people, "That's so big!" Lydia smiled and opened her mouth to say something else when suddenly a voice called from the doorway.

"I hope Lydia's not bothering you. She can be very... excitable," I looked up to see a woman who looked a lot like Lydia standing in the doorway. Instead of purple skin, though, hers was slightly green.

"Mama!" Lydia protested, and Tony chuckled.

"Not at all, ma'am, she is a delight," Tony seemed completely at ease, strangely enough. But the same could not be said for the Elf woman. When Tony spoke, her smile tensed a bit and she didn't respond, instead turning and looking at me.

"Did you sleep well?" She asked kindly, her smile easy once more.

"Yes, thank you."

"I imagine that you have a lot of questions," she continued, still not looking at Ariston.

"Um... quite a few, yes," I replied, slightly sheepish. Though I didn't know why. These people had kidn*pped us, after all.

"Well, come down and have breakfast first. You can ask all the questions you want after you've put some food in your body," she turned around to leave, gesturing for Lydia to come with her, but stopped at the door and looked at Tony. She smiled softly and almost apologetically at him.

"I'm sorry, dear, if we Elves aren't exactly... welcoming," she grimaced slightly, "Many of us have a grudge against humans, some of us with a very good reason, as I'm sure you would know." Tony smiled sadly.

"It's alright, ma'am. Thank you for telling me. And I know that I cannot erase what happened to you, but I truly am sorry,"

"No need to call me ma'am," she chuckled, but seemed pleased, "My name's Adonielle Lou. You can call me anything you like from that name."

"Alright, Adonielle," Tony succumbed. With that, Adonielle left us to prepare. I threw my legs over the side of the bed and ran to the bathroom before Tony could beat me to it. I planned to have a nice, long shower.

20 minutes later, Tony and I made our way down the stairs, following our noses to the dining room. Adonielle and Lydia were seated at the table along with to men. Both were Elves. One, I assumed, was Mr Lou, while the other looked more around our age. And he was glaring at Ariston. I gripped his hand reassuringly as we made our way to the table. I was so glad that I was not on the receiving end of that glare.

We sat down next to each other, with Lydia on my left-hand side. She immediately started chatting away, while I nodded but didn't respond, instead studying the young Elf who was directly across from me. He hadn't taken his eyes off of Tony. Tony was blissfully ignorant, piling his plate with the delicious-looking pastries on the table before him. I noticed Adonielle smiling at him.

'It's so nice to see a young person enjoying breakfast," at the end of the sentence, she shot a playful glare at the young Elf across from me, who simply smiled briefly at her before resuming his glaring. Adonielle sighed.

"I don't believe that you have been introduced," she put her hand on top of her husband's, "This is my husband, Somra Lou, and this young man," she reached across the table and snapped her fingers in front of the young Elf's nose, causing him to lose his glare, "Is Theron Kynig. He is not one of ours, but he stays with us when he's not at his own house. Which is very often. This," she pointed her finger at Tony, addressing the two Elves, "Is Ariston, and this here is Daetheia."

Tony nodded politely at them and smiled.

"It is nice to know you both," he said. A low growl came from Theron's throat, and I gripped the chair I was on tightly. If he had wanted to make a good first impression, he was not off to a good start.

"Ky," Somra warned quietly, and the growling stopped.

"Sorry," Theron mumbled, and put a pastry in his mouth. I rolled my eyes. He didn't sound sorry. I looked up to find him looking at me intently, with a slightly angry look in his eyes. I glared back, and he surprised for a moment before simply scoffing and turning back to his pastry. As if it were more important than his guests at that moment. I bristled slightly, but let it go. Perhaps that had not been his intention.

For the rest of our breakfast, Tony and I made small talk with the Elves, but they didn't answer any questions that we had. They told us that the Elf Leader would do that. I shuddered inwardly when I heard that name, recalling the story that my dad had told me. I could only hope that this Leader wasn't like the last one.

Ariston seemed totally at home, which was strange, but I was still uneasy. These people had kidn*pped us, and the stories I had heard... I wasn't entirely sure if I should trust them just yet. But they were so welcoming and kind. Well, except for Theron. He hadn't said one thing the entire conversation. I took a lull in the conversation as an opportunity to study him.

Unlike the rest of the Elves in the room, his skin was perfectly normal, albeit a bit tanner than I was used to. He was very muscular without it being gross, but his height gave him the appearance of a much leaner man. He had an aristocratic face, with high cheekbones, a slim nose with a fine point, and a strong jaw, which he had kept clenched the whole meal. His eyes were a warm brown – which I found strange, as he was anything but – and he had long, almost feminine eyelashes. The only unusual thing about him was his hair. It was green. Seafoam green, to be exact.

It was a lovely colour and, paired with his brown eyes, made him appear to be a part of the ground and grass itself. I looked around at the Elves at the table. All four of the Elves had the same ethereal beauty, their features and skin seemingly flawless. The only flaws I could find were in the scars that all but Lydia seemed to have. And even that was debatable as to whether they were imperfections or not. The Elves certainly did not wear them like they were. They wore them with pride and dignity, as if they had been hard-won and each carried a significant story. I suppose this would be true, seeing as they are Elves in a world where their species are considered the most dangerous of all wild animals. A strange thought to have when sitting at an Elf's table, eating as one of them. Though I do suppose that I was one of them.

We finished our meal and were immediately sent to the Elf Leader. I was nervous, even to the point that I had offered to stay behind with Adonielle to help clean up. But she wouldn't hear of it. Theron was sent with us, which neither of us was entirely happy with, to show us the way.

"So, Theron, how old are you?" I grinned slightly at Ariston's determined attempt at conversation with the closed-off young Elf.

"17," Theron grumbled, annoyance evident in his tone and disgust clear in his curled lip, "Now be quiet and don't speak to me again, human," The last word was spat out so viciously that for a moment I stopped in shock. Then rage came bubbling up in my stomach, and I ran to catch up with Theron's long-legged stride.

"Hey! You have absolutely no right to speak to him like that!" I glared at him. He simply glared back.

"And why not? He is, after all, a human. It's bad enough that we had to bring him here with you. I have no reason, and no desire, to be civil towards him."

"I understand that you may hold a grudge against humans, but Tony isn't like the other humans. He is kind, and just. He does not hate somebody that he just met, even after all the stories that we've been told about your kind,"

Our kind, A little voice in my head whispered, but I ignored it.

"Tay..." Tony muttered, but I ignored him, too, instead focusing on matching Theron's glare while also keeping my footing.

"The stories you've been told about us?" Theron laughed disbelievingly, the sound so hateful and bitter that I almost felt sorry for him, "You," he suddenly growled, "Don't understand anything! Both of you have lived, nice and comfortable and safe, while my kind – my family – have been mercilessly hunted down and slaughtered simply because your people couldn't take no for an answer!"

With that he stomped off, leaving me to stare after him, completely confused. I was about to run after him and demand what he meant when I felt a firm hand on my shoulder.

"No, Theia," I looked up to see Tony slowly shaking his head at me with a small smile on his face, "I have a feeling that he has a very good reason to hold a grudge against the humans."

Ariston looked after Theron's retreating form, his gaze sad and full of sympathy. I slowly shook my head in awe as I watched him. I didn't know how he could be so kind and understanding towards Theron after he had spoken to him like that. Tony turned to me and grinned.

"I have a feeling we should go after him," he laughed, "Something tells me that he won't be coming back for us."

With that we both ran after him, laughing and shoving each other like little kids. But there was still a niggling thought at the back of my mind; a faint annoyance, yet filled with undeniable sympathy as well.

Who are you, Theron Kynig? What has the world done to you?

-Rebecca Underwood