Amaranta – Captive of Elf’s King

Beloved of elf

She dreamed that she was dancing with Luellin in a spacious attic. It was gloomy and dusty, but a gold copy sparkled like the sun. The dance was an old and slow. It was strange to dance with her own copy. It feels like dancing in front of a yellow mirror. Luellin touched her hands, changing dance poses. It was not only a reflection. She was her twin. With her a dance resembled a witch ritual. And the gold roses rang somewhere nearby. They sprouted even in the attic.

On the door someone scraped and pounded. It seems that it was a furious monster.

Amaranta woke up. The king of the elves slept near in a luxurious bed, built from petals of magnolia, or garden lilies. Their smell calmed her nerves, but the dream did not go out of the head.

She reached and touched with the fingers the golden curls of Dagda. The king of the elves was very tired. Did not even respond to her touch.

In a new place, she felt better than in the castle of Angus. Probably, the old castle was cursed. Its walls were gloomy, preserved the memory of numerous wars. And here is all enchanting.

Dagda whispered in a dream a name. Not her name. Amaranta tensed. This name is definitely not human. It could be both male and feminine. Why does the king of elves say it in a dream, as the name of the lover?

It was worth leaning on the pillows and cover the eyelids, as she again dreamed of an incomprehensible sleep. In a dream, she stood at the Black Hill, to which Dagda was advised not to approach and not even to flush. The hill moved like a living giant, but instead of climbing one huge figure, he came to life with a flock of thousands of gray flying beings. They had sharp teeth and claws, and they were all thrown on her. She woke up, but the feeling that the body was enveloped by a network of bissing small monsters, was very intrusive.

“Do not leave anything other than bones! Do not take prisoners.”

“One captive is here. The most valuable,”  a voice objected, blocked everything.

How strange! The dream ended, and she still hears the whisper. Even the traces of the ash from somewhere on the skin remained.

Could she pick up some kind of magical infection of that hill? Dagda seems to have tried to be with her as far as possible from the hill. But near it climbed the whirlwind ash. It was then it hit the skin, and she forgot to erase it?

“Come to me!”

Who is calling? The voice was hoarse, but attractive, as if honey was poured into silence. It caressed her ears. Whether it sounded only in her brain, like the squeak of the lattices, the ringing of the chains and grinds claws by iron rods.

"I am also your close friend, because you sleep with my friend," she heard a whisper at the ear. “Those hugs who know you, I have known before you. I had the same magic that is right next to you. Do you know how it all ended?”

Is she going crazy? The voice was the one, it multiplied with a multiple echo that hundreds of mouths say, and not one. She was chosen, whether it dreamed that hundreds of red insightful eyes look at her from hundreds of ugly heads, and somewhere again ring chains and grilles.

"You need a friend and a mentor, like me, because you can get into the same trap, into which I got," whispered a heartfelt voice.

Where did he come from? It seems that from everywhere.

Dagdaa did not wake up. Amaranta still believed that elves could do without sleep at all. But then the bed would be superfluous. The bed from the flowers is fraught and calmed the nerves. After it, it will be uncomfortable to sleep even on the most soft feather bed.

It's wonderful! But it is necessary to cover the eyelids and again see the gloomy hill, scattering on a bunch of monstrous skulls, then on a flock of terrible black birds. And then in a dream some monster appeared. It was defeated and overtightened. The set of heads cut off from his body rolled around the field like coal, leaving the ash trail. For some reason, it seemed that their defeat was only the beginning. Heads laughed.

Amaranta opened her eyes. Outside the windows shone beautiful stars, and before the bed stood a terrible shadow. Someone with many hands and heads itself resembled a large black hill, in which inside the prisoners were locked. But this was exactly one being, and not a lot. .

“Are you good here?” asked immediately many votes that were talking to one tone.

She would nodded if the body did not sow paralysis. It was impossible to move neither hand nor leg. And the monster stood near, but did not attack, as if he prevented a certain obstacle. Is he a dream or is he real?

“Love of Elf is a magic thing. Truth? You have already convinced this,” again a multi-voiced whisper, but says one being. All his heads think like alone. Evil and darkness come from one organism. "This is a paradise, when you chose and loved a beautiful magical creature, and then hell comes.”

Black claws touched the bed. It seemed that they intend to plunge into the sleeping king of elves. Amaranta wanted to prevent this, but monster, seeing her fear, only deeply and understoodly laughed.

“Someday he will come with you just as he did with me.”

Warning sounded like prophecy. The dream broke off. Or a black ghost disappeared. Was he here at all? Could it seem. Paralysis has passed. Amaranta sat on soft flowers of the bed. In the feet, one of the flowers who formed the bed, blackened. Just in the place where the guest's claw touched it. And on the carpet, the traces of the ashes are also visible, as if something burned nearby.

With dawn all night fears disappeared. Amaranta has nothing to talk about Dagda. You never know what you dream! In addition, many pleasant experiences appeared. For example, where to go first? There are many hills that you should visit. That is, it is more correct to call them sides, since it is so accepted in the elves’ territory.

Amaranta wanted to visit a feast, a ball, and a tournament. But to consider outfits in the new wardrobe turned out to be more fascinating. There were no such styles and fabrics in the world of people. On the dresses are unnoticed by the seams, as if they were not sewn, but created from lunar radiance or all shades of the rainbow. Some matters in texture and form strongly resembled flower petals. Large magnolia actually turned out to be an exquisite lush cap. Well, if such a hat does not start after it is put on it. Although the flowers are not lethargic. A bouquet of Camellia, who brought her Dagda, lay on the table without water for a long time, and still remained fresh.

Amaranta could not move away from the wardrobe and numerous caskets with jewels.

“Everything was ready for my arrival? Or are these things waiting until they take advantage of each new beloved of the king of elves?”

“No one used before you all this,” Dagda was even offended. “I heard about the dowry that was laid for the brides. We assume that it is your dowry.”

Usually, the dowry prepares no bridegroom, wanted to say Amaranta, but what to take from the king of elves. Elves are poorly familiar with the traditions of people. Dagda tried as he could.

Amaranth reached for earrings from shining asterisks. They will make an excellent headset with her necklace.

How did the fiery earrings come out again in her ears?

The mirror in the simpleness reflected the jet of the flame in her ears.

"I thought I took them forever. One fiery elf knocked them to me.”

“These earrings can return. They spoke,” Dagda removed them with great difficulty, and in her ears again sprouted flowers.

“Curred?”

“On the spell.”

“This is not you supervised?”

“Not me, Angus.”

“But ...” the second time hearing it was extremely unpleasant. So, really. How could Angus? She thought he was honest. But what knights in our time keeps the Code of Honor, even with respect to the ladies. She had repeatedly heard that there are even those who beat their own wives. They did not come to this with Angus, but the trick in marriage ... This is what the marriages rushes. You can not love, cheating.

Flowers, scattered in the ears, pleasantly refreshed the skin. And how beautiful they looked. The most natural ornaments that only can be. Maybe instead of the diadems wearing a wreath?

Amaranta found that there are many hats from flowers in the wardrobe, and they are to her face.

“Do you really say that some nymphs wear dew from droplets instead of earrings?” Female coquetry is not suitable for communication with the king of elves, but she still resorted to him. It was very curious to learn everything.

“Do you want to see herself? I could take you into their society. And I can even organize us both a visit to the kingdom of Fairies, so that you look at them and even talking to them.

“In no case! I do not like their queen.”

“Like many! By the way, she can not tolerate all earthly beloved of elves, so your hostility is mutual.”

“Why does she not love us? I'm also a beloved of elf. I am curious to know.”

"Probably wants to impose on us her fairies," Dagda sighed noisy.

"You should choose gold robes," he advised. "They will be very good for you, the only side effect of their socks can be that your skin will also acquire a golden shade.”

“And when do I get you, will you turn me into another golden rose in your treasury?”

"Never," Dagda pulled her to himself. “Why do you turn into something? You are so more beautiful than any roses: and ordinary, and gold.”

“Do you always promise to love me, no matter how many centuries have passed?”

And he promised. But what is his magical promise? The ghost of sleep again began to torment her. Is it possible to believe the word of the king of elves?”