#tomxhenry

“I will not do it!” Thyrza slammed her fist on the round oak table in her Majesty’s advising room. The queen sat in an intricately carved chair made from the same wood as the table, dressed in a simple purple gown with a gold sash that fell to the floor. Queen Elma let her gaze bore into Thyrza and the younger elf shrunk back into herself.

“Thyrza, you know that we cannot allow this bloodshed to continue. Our country has seen enough bloodshed for all our lifetimes.” Rodin, the queen’s second advisor, argued. “This will allow our country to continue to live in peace.”

“Yes, you live in peace here among our trees while I must go and live amongst strangers and a king who will never accept me! Their women are slaves! Your majesty, please, reconsider!”

“Enough!” The loud voice of the queen shook both advisors to their core, and Thyrza immediately blushed for begging like a child. “You are of noble blood, Thyrza. A duchess in your own right, a title your father passed down to you upon his deathbed. You are my Court Mage, you command all of my battlemages with respect and honor, how can His Majesty refuse you?” Queen Elma stood and walked toward Thyrza, the younger elf immediately fell to her knees and bowed until her forehead touched the ground. “Thyrza, you are talented, brave, and I can think of no other elf in my court worthy of this position.” The mage stood up and kept her head bowed, but Elma placed her fingertips under Thyrza’s chin and lifted her head, her amethyst eyes gazing into Thyrza’s.

“King Henry and I will do everything in our power to make you feel comfortable in your new home. I will not marry you off to a stranger. He must agree to the terms I will send to him, by falcon, in one day’s time, or we go back to fighting.” Queen Elma smiled at Thyrza and kissed her forehead. “I only ask this of you because I know you will not fail me.”

The younger elf smiled slightly at her queen and she bowed her head slightly as she placed her right hand, in a closed fist, over her heart. “I will not fail you, my queen.” The queen smiled at her advisor and nodded.

“Go pack your things and get your affairs in order, Thyrza. I trust no one else to pick your successor.” Thyrza nodded and bowed again before leaving the room.

As she closed the door the elf leaned back against it and sighed. Her green eyes closed as she felt the beginnings of tears fall down her cheeks. Strands of her black hair had fallen out of the braids she kept it in, and her sword and cloak were in the advising room. She was tempted to turn around and retrieve them, but she shook her head and started toward her room.

~~

Henry sat by the fireplace, watching the flames dance against the stone and the smoke rise into the floo. He let one elbow rest on the arm of his chair and his fingers rubbed together as he thought. The letter of demands from Queen Elma sat on his thigh, untouched since he first read it. The queen politely rejected his offer of marriage to her, however she offered a replacement. A duchess in her court, one whom she highly favored and was highly respected among her people. The human king would never admit his pride was a bit stung by this, but the replacement was acceptable. Queen Elma also requested that the marriage take place in six months, in the late spring. He looked outside his window to see it still raining. It was mid-November, and the rains were unbearably cold. Henry rubbed his temple lightly as he thought of her other requests, that his fiancée’s room be placed as close to a garden as possible, that they accept her offer to hire an Elven chef to help with the transition, and that he learn from a tutor the Elven language and customs, as Thyrza, naturally, must learn human customs in order to be his queen, or his people would be outraged.

A knock at the door brought Henry out of his musings, “Your majesty?”

“Yes, Luke?”

“Have you thought about Queen Elma’s requests?” Luke walked into the room and looked at the fire, sighing, “I’ll have the fire attended to soon.”

“Not at the moment…Write to Queen Elma, tell her that we accept her requests. Anything to make our future queen happy.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Luke nodded and walked back toward the door, “Oh, and congratulations, sir.”

Henry huffed a laugh and shook his head. “If my father were alive right now, he’d skin me.”

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The elves of Dragon’s Tongue forest were not the only race of elves, but they were the ones closest to the kingdom of Erindale. The elves to the north, near the Spine Mountains, were the jewelry makers and the elves that supplied the highest quality of steel weaponry. Those elves also had the closest relationship to the dwarves of the Spine Mountains; their last conflict was nearly four centuries ago. The dwarves supplied precious metals to the other races in return for food and ale. The elves of Dragon’s Tongue forest were highly trained hunters, tanners, and healers, and they had the closest relationship to nature. They were a more solitary race; their major city was deep in the forest and difficult to spot, if you weren’t looking for it. The city was well hidden; the houses were in the tree canopy, where the elves bent the branches of the trees gradually over centuries to build their city.

It was a natural camouflage. They used rope and wood cut and shaved into planks to create walkways to get from treehouse to tree house. But the real splendor and true talent of the elves was seen in the Queen’s Castle. The Queen’s Castle was in the center of the city, where the oldest tree in the forest is rumored to be. To humans, it’s rumored to have enough branches to create hundreds of grand rooms without need to have any cut or carved wood, and the branches are strong enough to support a fully grown dragon.

But that is just human rumor.

King Henry’s messenger, George, arrived at Marksdale the following evening. He was greeted by the city’s guards, but upon saying that he had a message for the queen from King Henry V the guards took him to the Queen’s throne room, where he waited only five minutes before the queen and two advisors walked into the room.

George had only heard that elves had an unnatural beauty to them, but he couldn’t believe that the rumors of their beauty were true. Queen Elma stood before him in a long, flowing gown of gold. The sleeves ended at the elbows, which showed off purple undersleeves. The queen’s purple eyes seemed kind and gentle, yet she was obviously wise beyond her years. Her black hair was pulled back into an intricate pattern of braids, circling her head. The crown she wore wasn’t one that George was used to seeing. It did not sit on top of her head like a great weight, but the gold circled her head, with an emerald sitting in the middle of her forehead and amethysts sat to the right and left of the emerald. Her skin was a dark, rich brown, which looked even more magnificent when paired with the gold and green the queen chose for her outfit. George knelt before her, never taking his eyes off of her.

“Welcome, human, to Marksdale.” The queen spoke to him, her voice sounded like honey, which only made George wish to stay among the elves longer. “The guards said that you have a message from your king?”

George blinked for a moment before nodding, “Y-yes, your majesty.” He stood up from his knelt position and walked toward the throne. One of the advisors walked forward and took the letter from him. This elf had the same black hair as the queen’s, but it was pulled back into one braid. The braid sat atop her head, while three small braids on each side of her head travelled into the main braid, which ended in the middle of her back. Her eyes were dark green, like the leaves on an oak tree, and her skin was tan, not as dark or rich as the queen’s, but just as inviting. She wore a dark blue cloak over a maroon colored tunic and leather under-bust corset. Instead of a skirt, which George was accustomed to seeing women wear, she wore dark green cloth pants and knee-high leather boots. She wore leather wrist-guards, the same color as her boots, and around her waist was a leather belt with a sword hanging from it. George gulped a bit as he saw the glint of metal as the advisor walked back up to the queen and passed the letter to her.

The queen nodded once to the advisor and opened the wax seal. She pulled the letter out and let her eyes quickly scan over the paper. The queen hummed low in her throat for a moment before she closed the letter and handed it and the envelope back to her advisor. “What did you say your name was, human?”

“George, my lady,”

“George,” Queen Elma repeated his name, the English name tasted foreign on her tongue. “I request that you stay a week in my kingdom to rest and recover, as I am sure that you pushed your horse to the limit in order to get here. Also, this decision is one that I must speak with my advisors, about, and I cannot give your king an immediate answer. I’ll allow you to send a messenger bird to your king tonight, telling him that you are safe and that I require one week to think about this decision, and to tell his armies to cease fighting. I accept his notion of peace, but I need to think on how to go about it.” George nodded and bowed to the queen. “Thyrza, take George to our guest quarters. I’m sure he’ll find the rooms more than suitable.”

“Yes, my lady.” Thyrza, the elf who took the letter from him, placed her right hand over her heart and bowed to her queen before she walked down the steps leading to her throne and continued to walk past George, “This way, George.” She smiled at him as the messenger for the King nodded and bowed once again to the queen before he followed the elf out of the room.

"My queen, what shall we do?" The remaining advisor asked, "You’ve already accepted a betrothal to the desert elves in the north."