The elven king held the human girl in his arms; she'd woken up screaming bloody murder, like she'd had her soul ripped out of her body in a rain of shattered glass.
The king had held her in his strong arms, rocking her back and forth, assuring everything would be alright. He had begun to sing in elvish, to soothe her.
Now, she lay asleep in his arms. He had forgotten how fragile humans were.
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Non-FictionI had this idea last night after a few drinks, a pounding headache, and an excessive amount of throat lozenges. In order to inspire me to write more often than I currently do, I am planning to write a new post every day and publish it, allowing me t...