An Elvish delegation

There were a plethora of rather trivial matters for you preside over, minor lords arguing over land and other such petty disputes. More than a few of the people you saw were simply well wishers showering you with praise and promises of loyalty, doing their utmost to curry what favour they could.

After an hour or so Einon approached you with a curious expression, a look of discomfort that you had otherwise never seen on his face before.

"Foreign dignitaries have requested to see you," he informed. Another flash of unease slipped through. "they've been here since daybreak and have graciously waited for your subjects to be seen first, but I really think we should move them up the queue."

You frowned. "It's my first day as king, why should I show preference to foreigners over my own people?"

"It's not a great look," Einon agreed, "but these aren't just any foreigners from the mainland," he lowered his voice, "they're Elves."

That made you sit up and pay attention. While the Crimson Isles were fairly removed from matters of the continent owing to their geographical distance and an ingrained distrust of outside authority, Elileithel's isolationism was even more ****. As you understood it, the elves had nothing to do with their neighbours and a veil of secrecy regarding its internal politics remained firmly in place. Elves willingly engaging in outside diplomacy was highly irregular and for them to come all the way down to the Crimson Isles to do so was beyond confounding.

You rose to your feet, adorned a kingly expression and informed the court that the day's session was at an end. There were frowns of annoyance, but not a single person in that room dared voice a complaint. Your father had been a fair man, but his rages were infamous and nightmarish. You had more restraint, but it payed to keep the court on their toes.

Einon waited until the room was emptied, and then gave the signal for the guests to be ushered in through a side entrance. You thought you might have heard him utter a spell of some sort, perhaps to further keep eavesdroppers at bay.

Three cloaked figures entered the throne room, moving in their dark robes with an unnatural and transfixing grace. They stood before your throne, and threw back their hoods. Two men flanking a woman, all beautiful in the way that elves always are. They looked to you like finely crafted marble statues, with their pale skin, fair hair, pronounced cheekbones and unchanging stoic expressions.

The woman in particular caught your eye. The elegance she exuded was offset slightly by plump, kissable lips that would likely feel divine wrapped about your royal cock...

You smothered the thought instantly, maintaining what regality you could.

The woman's eyes wandered, taking in the stone beasts that guarded your throne before finally returning to you. There was nothing to suggest she was put off by the grotesque display. Her expression shifted and she bowed her head. Her fellows mirrored the action.

"King Alexander," her voice was melodious, entrancing. "I am Lady Ziara, chief ambassador of Elileithel, and very honoured to find myself in such a glorious place, in such glorious presence."

"And we are honoured to have you here," you replied mildly, "though I'll confess that your visit is incredibly strange. I was not aware that Elileithel had ambassadors."

"My title has not been held in many generations," Ziara conceded with a bow of her head, "but Elileithel is entering a new era, and as such we have decided that perhaps new friendships might be forged." The sapphires of her eyes met your gaze for the first time. "And we foresee a great friendship with the Crimson Isles."

You found yourself trying to imagine the body that resided underneath that cloak. Elves were all fairly lithe and you expected Ziara's form to be tight and athletic, perfect for the act of vigorous love.

"And what form do you imagine this friendship will take?"

"It would be one of mutual benefit, I assure you." She drew a scroll from within the sleeves of her cloak, took two steps and handed it off to a guard, who in turn brought it over to you.

You unraveled the parchment to find a map, a beautifully drawn and highly detailed depiction of an island. Alongside the illustration there were several notes written in Elvish, which you translated after a fashion as comments about the islands climate. You read the name of the island aloud.

"Acheronis."

"A fabled spit of land just off the coast of Itheria," Einon supplied quietly from beside the throne.

"It is no fable," Ziara insisted, "not only has it been found and detailed as you can see, but my people have established an outpost there."

She gave a silent signal to one of her companions who withdrew a bundle from his person, knelt down before the throne and slowly unwrapped it. It was a slab of gold, as big as a newborn babe and glittering magnificently as a morning star.

"During our exploration of the island we discovered something incredible. Ruins of an ancient civilisation, devices made with a function that had never been seen before, a library of knowledge dating back even before Elvish records and," she met your eye again, "a city made entirely of gold."

You looked at the gold, at Ziara and her stoic companions, searched for any sign of deceit. "It is not in your people's nature to be so generous with knowledge, my lady. Why come here with this?"

There was a moment of tension, the Elven woman worked her jaw, as though processing something disgusting. "My people were the first to discover this island and its treasures, but we are not in a position to truly claim it. The distance from our home is great and we lack any kind of naval strength to fend off outside parties while we do our work unearthing this treasure."

"Why come here though? Why not go to the Itherians? I hear the new king has one of your people as a close advisor."

Ziara didn't bother to hide her disdain. "We would rather not go through the trouble of dealing with the other nations on the continent and their internal squabbling. The other island nations are nought but raiders and savages," she took a step forward, a light coming into her blue eyes. "But the Crimson Isles...you have both proven naval strength and the level of civility to partner with Elileithel in this venture, to provide protection and transport to our people and receive a portion of the treasures in return."

You sat back in your throne. "A treasure that my people would need to independently verify."

"We would be happy to lead a team to the island," she looked at you again, something different going on in those eyes of hers. "My people and I are at your service. Any service."

The words hung with suggestion and your blood quickened monetarily. Regaining yourself, you bid for servants to bring the delegates refreshment while you conferred with your advisors in the council room. At once they drew to you, each of them wearing variations of the same confused expression.

"A city of Gold?" Lord Amadis breathed, shaking his head in disbelief, "In all my years I've never heard of such thing outside of children stories and wives tales. Do the Elves think us that foolish?"

Countess Myerling twisted one of the many rings on her fingers, a nervous twitch you had seen her do many times in the past. "If they're lying to us, it's a lie that can be easily disproved by a survey team. Either they come back with good news, or they don't come back at all. You'd know one way or another if they mean us harm." She looked at you slowly, "Your majesty....there is a reasonable chance that they're speaking the truth about this."

"They're certainly not lying about not having much military strength," the Lord Admiral grumbled. "They rarely leave their forests, so I doubt they have much knowledge of sea warfare."

"Yes, but why would they venture out of their forests now?" Amadis pressed. "What are they doing digging around on some island so far from their home in the bloody trees?"

You hummed thoughtfully, turning the problem around in your mind. Eventually you turned to Einon, who was still studying the map. "My Court Mage has been awfully silent, anything to say Uncle?"

"I don't think they're lying," he replied after another moment of study, his trademark grin entirely absent. "There likely is gold on that island. But Lord Amadis is right to question what they're doing on that island in the first place." A shadow fell over his features. "I had heard whispers that the Elves were in a sort of civil war."

The Lord Admiral chuckled dryly. "Trouble in paradise, eh?"

"A matter of the demonic sort, accusations of corruption and devilry..." Einon replied absently, still troubled. "I think...they're ****. And whatever they were looking for on that island, it's more precious to them than all the gold in the world. We need to be careful that we aren't drawn into some kind of war."

There was silence, then all eyes fell on you. Despite feeling like a junior among these seasoned and wise counsellors, you were the king here and it would ultimately come down to your course of action. This was the first major decision you would have to make and it would likely set the tone for your entire reign.

"I think it's time we gave Lady Ziara an answer."

The Elven delegates were waiting for you, and, taking your place on the throne you wasted no time giving your answer.

"We will be sending a survey ship," you told her, "and should our findings be of interest I am willing to offer the protection of the Crimson Isles. Though I should like to have a little more incentive than just theoretical gold."

Ziara adopted a confused look. "What else would you want?"

"That is something we can discuss at a later date."

After a long moment of silence, Ziara nodded. "Very well, I accept these tentative terms. I am certain our relationship will be fruitful, Your Majesty."

You watched her for several heartbeats. There was more to this woman than a simple, simpering diplomat trying to negotiate; a game was afoot. You were resolved to be one that came out on top.

With a smile you promised her and her companions that they would given comfortable chambers while your people spent the next day readying a survey team. They were dismissed after that and you sat back in your throne, contemplating your next move.