elfland | Glowfic Constellation

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Dec 25, 2024 2:26 AM

as-the-morning

Her palace in the elven heartland is great, woven into the heartwood of the fallen Great Tree like a knot in its wood. It vanishes seamlessly into a copse of the shoots that rise from the stricken trunk, each vast enough to be a mighty elder tree of a lesser wood; to walk its halls is almost as walking in a woodland, a woodland grown as a garden by some benevolent god; where a lesser palace might have soft cushions, it has beds of some unknown moss softer than silk; where a king's folly might have walls, it has thickets that Ambrose's wizard's eye will tell him are stronger, surer and more secret than any stone and mortar. The sunlight filters down here, through what must be distant lofty glass, refracted and soft where it touches the halls.

By wit or by luck he has won the right to stay here for his honeymoon. Wizards of his power are rare even among the elves; and whether he likes it or not, Ambrose begins now to move in such circles.

They are brought abruptly to a place where elegant mahogany stairs spiral around a tree-trunk, looking almost as though they grew there, save that each step is adorned with a hundred most delicate carvings.

Their chambers are at the top, some hundred feet in the air.

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Ambrose

warrior-of-the-mind

elirifi

The young wizard takes his bride’s hand and leads her up the stairs, one by one. They share gentle laughter as if from the same breath.

This is almost a dream. He peers at the carvings upon each step, trying to commit it all to fragile memory.

The Elvenqueen, Eslantayë

as-the-morning

The Dungeon Master

Interesting.

It portrays a legendary origin of the elven people, the steps of Corellon in ancient days, the drops of Their blood that birthed the First Elves, how they came to be imprisoned in one form alone, how They took pity and showed the little First Elves how to dream and be changed.

The top of the stairs comes to a space like a doorway, but flat and blank.

Ambrose

warrior-of-the-mind

elirifi

Huh.

Ambrose holds out his hand and, pressing it flat on the door, he–

“Actually, my love, would you like to do the honours?”

Galora

makiwara

The Dungeon Master

She grins at him.

"Gods, my darling, I love you." She kisses him, and when she does she bites.

Then she knocks politely.

Ellesmera

city-of-tears

The Dungeon Master

The door wilts and curls inwards organically.

Inside is a space almost like a treehouse. Polished wood floors fall elegantly away in a graceful cuve, and underfoot they are soft, tender living wood like a sapling; they embrace a space with a great bed made up in gentle reddish colours like autumn leaves, and the light that falls upon it is soft and crimson. In the floor there is a great crack from which seeps living amber, lining a hollow in whose gentle orange glow there is something like a spring, of hot bubbling water.

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