This is the first part of a story I have adapted from a Roleplay that I had the pleasure to be a part of. Unfortunately the server was taken down, so I thought you'd all like to read some of the crazy adventures that we got up to.
I hope you enjoy, and please be aware that this story does contain some discrimination, it was just how the character was played originally, so please bare with me. :)
*
Sarren Vatoris stood alone by the window of his room, the cold winter air chilled him deeply as he pulled his pale silken dressing gown tightly around himself and stared down into the crowds of elves far below. They were able to move freely amongst to fallen leaves of Shimmerdin, capital city of the Elven Kingdom. As an elf, Sarren had inherited the beauty of his people, often being referred to as a beautiful jewel in the royal crown and his thin frame gave him a somewhat feminine physique without even trying. His long blazing crimson hair however was far different from that of his people, who were normally born with either hair the colour of raven feathers or hair the colour of midsummer golden sunlight. And yet, for as long as he could remember, his father King Eldan Vatoris, had made him stay within the Elven Palace for his own safety. Claiming that the world of men beyond was far too dangerous a place for one so young.
Yet after over a hundred years of being bound to the same place, Sarren felt the walls of his room, no... his prison growing cold and dim around him. The world that had felt so full of wonder and adventure was like a forsaken dream, as the world he now perceived held nothing for him but a bleak and boring future as the king of a people he knew little to nothing about. Sure, he'd been tutored on matters of the mind, given studies on complicated court etiquette and a few lessons on magical theory, but he'd never been allowed to really meet the people he'd one day be ruling over and that to Sarren just felt like a misjustice.
Over the century however, Sarren's only real comfort was one of his royal maids, a fair haired elven girl by the name of Brixina. She was young by elven years, only seventy six, and she would often talk with Sarren, unlike the other maids, who merely wished to serve him out of duty to his father more than a genuine interest for him as a person. Brixina was gentle in her speech and had the biggest heart Sarren had even known, often bringing stories from outside the palace of knights wielding swords of shimmering steel, riding through the lands to rescue princesses from seemingly immortal dragons and of heroes finding love and happiness. To Sarren, those stories meant more to him than any precious jewel or title that he may possess in a possible future.
Sarren spun as he heard the door open wide, the metal door knob slamming hard against the wooden wall and making him let out a small yelp in surprise. Standing in the doorway was his father, Eldan Vatoris, his once beautiful regal features had marked by the passage of six centuries. Atop his furrowed brow he wore a circlet of woven platinum that resembled a blooming flower and his flowing teal robes came to a stop mere inches above the ground. He looked at his son with a cold intensity that sent a shiver running down Sarren's spine as he entered the room, each of his steps calm and calculated as he seemed to glide across the room towards his son. Sarren refused to meet his gaze as his father stood before him.
"You are still not ready." Eldan stated, his tone was cold as his gaze shifted to one of annoyance. "I thought I specifically told you to be ready by midmorning, as we are expecting an ambassador from our sister kingdom of the Eastern slopes. As the royal prince, it is your obligation to be in attendance. I do not expect you to embarrass me before our guests by being underprepared." Eldan explained, leaving little room for Sarren to argue as he followed his son's gaze to the window. "So, despite my prior warnings, you still wish to walk amongst the people of our kingdom? To mingle with the lesser elves that spend their lives either serving us or chasing after a mortal dream of adventure?" Sarren heard the tone of his father's voice and couldn't help but stay silent. His father was mocking him and he refused to lower himself by holding his tongue.
Elden however closed his eyes for a moment before turning on his heels, his robes spilling out slightly at the hem as he once more floated towards the door. "I expect you to be ready in twenty minutes, no more." His father spoke with a final definitive tone that had ended many would be conversations within his court.
Moments after he passed beyond the doorway, he vanished from sight, leaving Sarren to lean against the window sill and hold a hand over his eyes, trying to hold back tears that burnt at his eyelids. "I hate you." He muttered, his voice soft and quiet as he wiped his eyes and walked to the bed where his royal robes had been already laid out for him by Bixina before she'd left to attend to chores.
Sliding his dressing gown off of his body, he stepped up to a full length mirror and looked himself over. His figure was indeed feminine, with slightly wider than average hips and a very toned waistline that he was sure some would have paid money to achieve. Running his hands over his hips, Sarren was sure ass felt bigger than average to him and he blushed a little as he looked down at the embarrassingly small cock and balls between his legs. It was only an inch in length and when hard it barely got past two inches. Somewhere deep inside him, Sarren sometimes felt embarrassed to be called a prince, as his appearance to him had often seemed more fitting to a princess than the prince of elves.
With a deep sigh of resignation, he turned away from the mirror and began to dress himself, wouldn't want to embarrass his father any further afterall.
Twenty minutes later, Sarren stepped out of his room. He had resigned himself to following his father's wishes once again as his long flaming hair held back from his face by a circlet of silver adorned with a single teardrop that rested against his brow and he wore a pastel yellow robe that nearly reached the floor. The palace itself was built into the side of an ancient oak tree that had stood standing for over ten thousand years. The tree and the palace attached to it are often considered to be the living heart of the forest, where the elven kind could connect with the beauty of nature and the palaces' architecture displayed the finest works of elven kind that could be found within the kingdom to date.