This is a non-human focused story about an anthro wolf and the elves (called sylvan here) that he forms a relationship with. There is some implied non-consensual sexual activity in the beginning, and some dubious consent later on with pheromones. There's a lesbian incestual relationship, and if the story continues later, there's liable to be some gay content.
There's also violence, and some gore.
Everyone is older than 18.
This is a little bit of a slower burn story.
A Wolf in Syl's Clothing
The forest to the south of the town of Bortel, the barely-a-capital of the barely-a-kingdom Frithsib, was full of game in the early spring, owing to the spirits that inhabited that place. The king of Bortel, an overweight sylvan named Tawsquil, had stringy hair that dripped down his face from the exertion of riding a horse all morning. He was determined to hunt some tazhifowl to bring home for dinner. Thankfully his guard captain, an aged one-eyed sylvan named Farik, had managed to bring one in.
In truth, if one of his men hunts one, was that not the same as him hunting one? But still, he reasoned, it would be better for the men if he hunted one himself.
Tawsquil cared little for the spirits of this forest, despite the town of Bortel having made an agreement with the creatures long ago. The deal was simple, the spirits provided and the people of Bortel do not despoil the forest.
But things had changed in recent years, and the town needed a wall. So, yes, the forest had to be despoiled. But only a little.
Tawsquil thought about this as a creature well over seven feet tall approached him. It looked like a wolf, but stood like a syl, with dark gray fur on his back, white fur on his belly and a streak of black on his head that almost looked like hair. Even through the short fur of his smooth coat, the massive bulk of the creature gave Tawsquil the impression that he could rip his horse's head off if he chose to do so.
The wall had been built years previous - surely the spirits could not still be upset about some trees? The king cleared his throat. "Creature of the forest, do you represent the spirits?"
He nodded.
The king furrowed his brow. "And what message do the spirits wish you to convey?"
"The pact is broken. The spirits wish to repair it."
Tawsquil cleared his throat. "I wouldn't call it... well, broken. Perhaps our loggers were a little close to the forest, but rest assured, now that our capital has a wall, we'll no longer need any further trees."
"The town is without its Warden. If the town needed defense, you should have asked the spirits for another. The spirits provide."
"Yes, well," the king averred as he adjusted himself on his saddle. The previous Warden died around the time his grandfather took the throne. "I'm not sure how aware the spirits are of the Guti to the east, but my spies tell me that they have amassed an army and are led by a tactical genius and an immortal captain. I assure the spirits that the Guti will despoil the forest utterly. They would do well to protect us when the time comes."
"The spirits are aware of the Guti, but no longer trust you. They wish for me to join you in your court, so that they may speak to you more directly."
"Ah, yes, I can see why they would find that useful. However, as King of not just Bortel but all Frithsib, I'm afraid that is simply impossible. Only a Baron or a Knight may hold court with me."
"As a Warden of the Township, I would be granted a Barony, would I not?"
The spirits wanted the Warden reinstated? Why now, of all times? He had enough to worry about. He decided to say something else. "We have been without a Warden for a century. Why do the spirits wish to change that?"
"Because you need a Warden, and the spirits provide."
The king sat upright on his saddle. "I'm afraid that I need nothing from the spirits, except that they leave me be on my next hunt. Farik! Your tazhi will have to do, let us return to the city."
The turned their horses away from the wolfkin and rode back to the town of Bortel. It did not take long to get from the city gates to his castle. He walked through the open doors of his castle after leaving his horse and was greeted by his daughter.
"I see the mighty hunter has returned empty handed," Princess Lilly said with a smirk.
His daughter inherited her mother's horrific personality and biting wit, but not any of the parts of her that would make her suitable for marrying off to a distant prince. Now that she was nineteen, and healthy, the king would have to settle for a trade agreement or perhaps a few units of soldiers.
"Your daughter's sharp tongue does her no favors," Tawsquil said with a squint. He looked up at the throne in the distance and saw Queen Arabetha lazing on it. It wasn't that he was uncertain of the girl's parentage, so much as he was sure she was Farik's. But even a few units of soldiers was worth keeping up the pretense.
"
Our
daughter," Arabetha said tersely, "Should go to her room." She pointed to Lilly and flicked her finger, to which Lilly wrinkled her nose and left.
Tawsquil sat on the throne with a heavy thud and looked over at his wife. Despite her attempts to wrap them with bands, her dress barely contained the very buxom sylvix. Between that and her big hips, she looked to the king less a regal dignified lady of his court than a jumped-up whore. Which, given her behavior, was more honest than pretending she was a lady.
"You reek of horse," she said and wrinkled her nose. "Seems a waste of energy, prancing about pretending to catch birds."
"A tongue whose acidic bile could drown an army. And we caught a tazhifowl, it is to be our supper. You know - that thing you slurp down half your bodyweight worth every night?"
Arabetha smirked and glanced at him. "What has you in such a mood? Saddle burr you couldn't bother to dislodge?"
He grunted. "A monster barked at me in the forest. A messenger from the spirits that claimed we owed something."
"To the
spirits
?" She asked with a high-pitched laugh. "Have they been paying taxes when I wasn't looking? What could we possibly owe them?"
"Some trees, I guess," he said with a shrug. It was less likely the tress than the Warden, but he didn't bother to explain that to his empty-headed wife. "Who knows what goes through the minds of these creatures. If the Guti show up, perhaps they'll actually be of some value. I'd give them their trees back for that."
"The Guti?"
He sighed. "That's nothing to weigh on the brow of a queen."
Arabetha straightened her back, which Tawsquil knew meant she had some stupid fight to start. "You shouldn't mock our daughter. Her only crime was to be born in a backwater."
"
Mock
? You've made a mockery of me every day!" He stood and turned on her. "So, I'll treat the bastard any which way I like!"
Arabetha jumped up and slapped him, and he immediately backhanded her back into her chair. She looked down and away, so her long blond hair could hide her face from him. A cold silence descended on the court.
Tawsquil leaned down and growled at her. "If someone offered me a hardworking
mule
I'd trade that dumb bitch away. So, we better get to work on breeding some new brats, ones from
my
loins, don't you think?" He stood back and pointed in the direction of his quarters. "Go wait in our bed, and I swear to those fucking irritating spirits that I will tan your hide if you wail or scream about it this time!"
Arabetha quickly got up and ran to their bedroom without looking back.
The next day, Farik ran shouting into the council chamber where Tawsquil had just told, to his mind, a particularly funny joke. He was trying to follow up when Farik interrupted again, "Guti, my king!"
The king jumped to his feet and ran to a balcony overlooking the town. In the far distance, he could see a force marching his way, from the direction of the mountains where the Guti roamed. A small vanguard of horses came toward the town's front gate, only to be intercepted by a massive wolf-creature running out from the wall.
Tawsquil slapped his hand to his face. "Fuck
no
, what fucking
cruel
jest from the gods is this?"