Spearing the Dragon

FIVE

Lillevenn walked inside his suite after a late night meeting with the commander, operations chief, and the lieutenant commander. The time approached the Dokkalfar's visual message, and they wanted him on the bridge. Since he was the only one who had even seen another elf, they wanted him to take point during the interaction.
    As he walked inside, he spotted Ingrid sitting on his couch, looking down at the floor. Her glossy black hair rested over her shoulders, her slender form looking smaller than her child self had appeared. He sat beside her and she looked up at him. He easily saw the concern in her crystal clear lavender eyes.
    "Are you worried about when they communicate with us?"
    She looked down. "I have spent so many years thinking about them, now they will be here soon, and I don't know how I should act."
    "You should come onto the bridge with me when they call. They would recognize you more than me."
    He saw apprehension fill her eyes that characterized them more than any other emotion.
    "What if I'm not good enough for them? I was left on the moon for a reason. What if—"
    He put a comforting hand on her shoulder.
    "There is no benefit to sitting here, worrying, Ingrid."
    She nodded, and concern filled her eyes.
    "You probably want to rest before they come."
    "You're just going to go back to your room and worry, aren't you?"
    She stared into space. "I don't think I can think about anything else."
    "I might be able to help with that."
    She raised a fond look to him. "Can you?"
    "I always did love helping," he said with a twinkle in his eyes and she grunted a laugh.
    "Gods preserve us."
    "They won't save you from me."
    She looked away from him, the color to her cheeks more apparent because of her pale skin. He turned her face back to him before kissing her. Her hands touched his face before she leaned back, giving him a hesitant look. He saw the insecurity in her eyes and brought a thumb over her lips. He leaned over to her ear.
    "That Fae maiden may have been ethereal and holy, but you, my dear, are entirely fuckable."
    Ingrid burst out laughing and he leaned back with a mischievous gaze. The heightened color to her cheeks only made her that much more adorable. He took some of her dark hair and pulled down, the insecurity slowly leaving her eyes the longer she looked into his.
    "If you knew me a bit better, you'd know my obsession with girls with black hair."
    Her gaze intensified before he leaned forward and kissed her. This time, she returned it passionately. He was pleasantly surprised when she pushed him back on the couch, moving on top without taking a breath.

Lillevenn held on for dear life as the dark storm above him made love to him as though she meant to consume him. The apprehension and insecurity he'd seen in her since he'd glimpsed her true form vanished as she took authority over their lovemaking, delighting him on a level he wasn't sure even his Valkyrie had accomplished.  He gripped her legs, pressing her tighter against him as his teeth sank into her neck. She rode him like she wanted to punish him, her moans arousing him more than the most naughty of nymphs he'd taken in the wild.
    When she took his head in a powerful grip, he expected her to grab his antlers next, as Hilde had done, but instead she ran her tongue over one of them, his body trembling over the creative naughtiness he adored. When she leaned back, for a moment, he stared up in amazement as her sweet lavender eyes had gone full black.
     He sat up, pulling her legs around him as he kissed her hungrily, desire drawing from a dark place no nymph had ever inspired. When he felt her nails scratching his back, he moaned in his throat, not because of the pain, but because they had elongated, at least a few inches. His orgasm felt like a jackhammer, his head dropping to her shoulder. She slowed, the demon he'd unleashed satisfied.
     Lillevenn leaned back, nearly getting hard again at her black eyes looking at him with sated desire. Only then did he notice the horns protruding from her head. He laughed.
     "Oh man, once you go dark elf, you never go back!"
     She smiled, her eyes returning to lavender in a flash, and it almost disappointed him. He touched her head.
     "You have..."
     Her face went paler. "What?"
     She touched where his fingers were on her head before she covered her mouth with a hand, delighting him further.
     "I can't go around people like this!" She pressed against the cute little horns protruding just a few inches from her head. "Do they go back in?"
     He laughed. "Sweetheart, you are a delight!"
     "Lillevenn..."
     "Own it, darling. Stop hiding."
     Her gaze intensified before she dropped her hand. He saw the desire return to her eyes, his body thrown into hard arousal when they went black again. He kissed her passionately and she took his head as she returned his kiss with dominance that reached down inside him, satisfying a part of him he didn't know existed.

The executive command staff stared at her as she walked onto the bridge beside their consultant, dressed all in black. Commander Brandt frowned at her but before he could speak, the image flashed on the viewscreen. Ingrid felt a kick to her gut at the Dokkalfr who filled the screen. He looked like her, but with horns a good six inches above his head, curled at the ends. His cruel, ice blue gaze passed over the members of the crew before resting on Lillevenn.
     "I see you received my message, son of Loki," he said in that terrifyingly deep voice that should have been the stuff of her nightmares, but it seemed familiar instead. Lillevenn motioned toward her.
     "One of your own stands next to me, Chancellor. Wouldn't she be a better representative?"
     The Dokkalfr wrinkled his nose, looking down at her like a carcass he found on the side of the road.
     "I will not parlay with this half-breed." The words hit her like a ton of bricks as he returned his cold gaze to Lillevenn. "This abomination was cast off from us, and with good reason."
     Lillevenn's face showed no reaction.
     "She has Ljosalfar parentage."
     Ingrid stared at him, the Dokkalfr's gaze unflinching.
     "You would do well to keep her far from us when we arrive, son of Loki. We will be within your space inside a day. We will speak with only you. Do not test our patience. We are not fond of leaving our dark sanctuary for this abrasive star system."
     The screen went black before returning to a view of the planet they orbited, Ingrid staring into space.
     "Well, that was charming," the commander said uncharitably, turning his gaze that was only a few degrees warmer than the Dokkalfr's onto Lillevenn. "Would you like to explain who you have brought onto my bridge?"
     "She is Ingrid. She was the child Lieutenant Commander Farmiga brought back from the moon."
     Farmiga stared at her, the commander's gaze taking on fresh ice. Ingrid turned and left the bridge on swift feet, Lillevenn looking after her in regret. He turned to follow her, and the commander didn't stop him, but he knew the conversation wasn't over.

Lillevenn strode inside her bedroom, where she sat on the floor beside her bed, quietly weeping, her gorgeous black hair draping over her face. He walked to her bed, sitting down, pushing her hair from her face.
     "I wish you wouldn't take it so hard, sweetheart," he said gently, and she raised her pale, tear-streaked face to him.
     "They hate me. They cast me off like trash. You don't know what it's like, not belonging anywhere, having your own race spit in your face...who do I have now? My adoptive parents on the moon are dead, I don't have a family..."
     "Believe it or not, I do know some of how you feel. I have always been at odds with my grandmother and my father...there's not much conversation going on there, at least in a language I can understand. I've always been an outcast. Odin banished me to Helheim right alongside the rest of my family, deeming me a troublemaker."
     The easy compassion that came to her eyes amazed him, wondering how she shared blood with those walking icebergs. The back of his hand brushed her cheek, and she looked down.
     "And you have me."
     She looked up with those open lavender eyes so different from the black ones she'd had while they made love. He realized he loved it, both of her sides that came so naturally to her. He took her by the hand and pulled her onto the bed, touching her face as he leaned forward to kiss her temple.
     "You will show those bastards you don't need them. We will collaborate to win this war, but that doesn't mean you have to take their disrespect. Stand up to them, refuse to be cast aside. I know you have it in you."
     She wrapped an arm around his, resting her head on his shoulder.
     "Thank you, Lillevenn."
     Her thanks pulled on his heartstrings. He kissed the top of her head where her horns had been just hours before. He believed they would come back, when she needed them most.