Premise: Upon the death of the old elven king, pierced through the eye in the midst of battle, the long, bloody war between elves and humans came to an end. The kingdom of Ethekar had long grown weary of the bloodshed, yet King Castien refused to back down. His son, Fenian, however, was less committed to seeing the struggle to the bitter end. With his ascension came talks of peace. In addition to paying the humans tribute of 40,000 gold pieces annually to maintain the newly formed friendship between the kingdoms, Fenian agreed to his only daughter becoming the human king's ward--though "hostage" was a better term--and was to be wed to the human heir upon their coming of age.

The years pass by of a tottering, but maintained, allyship between the nations. Princess Naevys has spent more years of her life amongst the humans than her own people, save for the diplomats that filtered through the Court as she grew up. She has grown close to the human royals, all of whom treat her as their own, especially the prince to whom she is betrothed. To any who spent more than a moment observing the pair, the love that blossomed between them over the years is evident.

Yet as of late tensions between the elves and humans have risen. King Fenian has grown ill, leaving his hot-headed and resentful eldest son as regent. Determined to free Ethekar of their financial burden, and to liberate his sister from the clutches of the humans, Prince Vaeril has refused to deliver upon the usual tribute. Whether he hopes to provoke the humans into combat or force them to capitulate on Ethekar's financial responsibility, it all amounted to the same thing: war was once more on the horizon. Whispers began to spread around the Court asking, "Isn't this what we have the princess hostage for?" placing pressure on the royal family to use their leverage over the elves one way or the other.

Starter: Naevys sucked the blood from her finger. This was the fourth time she pricked it, too lost in her own thoughts to pay proper attention to where she stuck the needle. Sighing, she sat back. Outside, the sun was only just showing its face to the world, but she had been awake for hours. At first she paced the room. While her steps were graceful enough not to cause the floor to creak as she walked, she chose to place enough pressure to elicit the sound. It helped her think.

Soon, her handmaids would come knocking on the door to get her ready for the day. It was a Feast Day, something that ordinarily delighted Naevys, yet she couldn't muster it within herself. All that her mind could focus on was the talks of conflict with Ethekar. It had been years since she last saw her home country, since she saw her family. Their faces were hazy in her mind, only growing hazier the harder she tried to focus on what they looked liked. Somewhere in a castle she once recognized snd called home, her father lay dying and her brother sought to reignite their grandfather's old grudges.

A rapping at the door drew her attention. Opening the door only enough to slip in, Emalia entered with her usual impish smirk that made her already pointy face all the more puckish, followed by a blushing Isabeau. "I was told to get you ready straight away, my lady, before the services." In her hand she clutched a note. Naevys' heart raced at the sight of it. Biting back her smile, she took it from the handmaid and read it with greedy eyes. As she did, Emalia prepared Naevys's clothing for the day while Isabeau readied her hair ribbons and jewelry.

Once she was dressed, she fastened a cloak over her throat, throwing up the hood. The halls of the royal suites remained still as people dozed on for those last few precious moments before the day's duties demanded they rise. The trio silently made their way down the corridors and turret staircases until they entered the basement. People moved about, not hurried but with purpose. Casks of wine and ale were pulled down from their shelves and carried on the shoulders of burly folk. No one paid the group of girls any attention, allowing them to wend their way to the back where the door to the garden sat propped open.

Giving each of her dear friends a kiss on the cheek, Naevys stepped through the door. Spring finally settled over. Freshly bloomed flowers perfumed the air with their enchanting scents, competing for the attention of the butterflies and bees that populated the gardens. Streams poured into a pond resplendent with water lilies, irises, and cattails, and filled with fish that liked to jump out of the water and splash passersby.

She came to the large wisteria tree. Purple flowers hung from the branches, brushing over her as she walked under it. Her smile lit up her face. Holding the flowers to her face, she inhaled deeply and sighed. Going to the trunk, her fingers traced over where their initials were carved into the wood. Pink dusted her cheeks at the memory. Ever since, this tree came to be their secret place. Despite it being large, and in the middle of the gardens, no one ventured that deeply, especially not in the early (or late) hours the pair arranged their secret meetings.

Suddenly, a wave of nerves overcame Naevys. What if, in the light of everything going on, he intended to tell her they could be no more? Could she bear having her heart torn out, or would she collapse before his very eyes? *No,* she told herself, *I trust him with my life, with my heart! I know no earthly force shall part us.* She held the pendant bearing his miniature close to her thumping heart.

Footsteps turned her head, a small gasp unable to be contained. She half laughed in her exhale of relief. "For a moment, I feared I had been discovered."

Naevys went up to him, intending to embrace him, before suddenly growing bashful, then embarrassed at becoming so! It wasn't as if they had not held the other before, had not exchanged heated glances that turned to passionate kissing that nearly became more were they not interrupted. The thought alone made her face flush.

Naevys took his hands in her own and smiled. "The hours have felt like ages since last we were alone. All this talk of war frightens me, my love. What shall happen to us? I wish not to part, I wish not to..." her lip trembled, unable to finish the thought. tears springing to her eyes, she collapsed into his arms. "I wish only to be with you, even if I must become a beggar to do so!"

A/N: hi there! thank you so much for taking the time to read this. i hope it peaked your interest! if it did, please feel free to reach out via messages or chat with your reply (3rd person only pls), or if you have questions or ideas of your own you would like to discuss before we begin, im all ears! please put a little more effort into your message than "hi" or "i liked your prompt" 🙏 i look forward to hearing from you :3

**kinks:** breeding, incest, non/dubcon, degrading, mask kink, rough sex, facefucking, freeuse, dry humping, worship, passionate/romantic sex, praise, somnophilia, size difference, cockwarming, choking, and spitting

**limits:** gore, scat, feet, raceplay, anal, guns/knives, petplay, and slave/master

[F4M] Threat of War Poses a Risk to the Love Between the Elf Princess and Human Prince (Prompt in Body)