Jeke is from a simple farm village, on a trip with several other families to see the big city. Along the way, they’re ambushed by outlaws, and Jeke and another boy named Willard are the only survivors. A party of elves saves the two wounded humans, taking them back to their village to recover.
Life amongst the elves is tough. The one bright spot for Jeke is an elf named Imbryl, who looks about Jeke’s age. He isn’t, and coldly informs Jeke of this when Jeke tries to make friends. But there is clear attraction between them, in spite of the tension and the fact that Imbryl would be disowned were anything to happen between them.
Yet a relationship begins to form as they come to terms with their differences and prejudices. Soon it will be time for Jeke and Willard to return to their own people. Will Jeke ever see Imbryl again? Do they dare take any steps down a path from which it would be tough to return?
Jeke and Imbryl had several more encounters in the coming days, always in the evening or at night, and always when nobody else was around. They were unfailingly awkward and short, but Jeke felt like maybe he was getting somewhere. The strange elf was obviously interested in him, seemingly almost in spite of himself. And Jeke found that he looked forward to their odd conversations, even if they left him slightly frustrated afterward. It was a welcome distraction from his grief.
One day roughly a week later, Imbryl and his friends arrived at the stable again. This time Jeke and Willard were working with their tunics on, as they had ever since being scolded. Jeke was sweaty and covered in dirt, with bits of straw clinging to his clothing and hair.
“Good morning, Imbryl,” Jeke offered. The others came to a halt, eyes wide, even Willard, and Jeke immediately realized his mistake.
“Look, Aimon, the human wants to be friends with Imbryl!” The elves laughed cruelly, while Imbryl glared at Jeke with smoldering eyes.
“Go on,” he said quietly to his companions. “I must teach this human a lesson.”
The others laughed and continued on past the door, and Imbryl entered the stable, fists clenched. Willard stood off to the side, frozen like a statue, shovel planted in the ground.
Something snapped for Jeke, though. The death of his family, the subsequent humiliations at the hands of the elves, the mixed signals and rejection from Imbryl himself ... it was all too much. Before he knew it, he had grabbed the front of Imbryl’s tunic with both hands, and slammed the elf hard into the wooden wall of the stables. In the back of his mind, he was surprised at how little the elf weighed, and how easy it had been to lift him up.
He pressed up against Imbryl, hard, holding him pinned to the wall, their faces practically touching.
“I could kill you where you stand,” Imbryl whispered fiercely.
“Do it,” Jeke countered instantly. “I don’t care anymore. Push me away if you don’t like it.”
At that, the elf looked down, and they both realized the closeness of their bodies, pressed hard together, their chests heaving as they breathed fast through the surge of adrenaline and emotions. The elf was also clearly having trouble getting a good breath, but he glared back at Jeke in fierce defiance.
Finally, after several long moments, the elf slowly lowered his eyes, his posture slumping as much as was possible with Jeke holding him up, and whispered “Ehlark forgive me.”
“Shut up,” Jeke growled back, and then kissed the elf, hard.
The elf’s eyes widened, but he did not try to push Jeke away, and soon his eyes closed and he returned the lingering kiss.
Eventually they parted, and both stood there inches apart, chests heaving still. Imbryl eventually stepped back, wiping the back of his hand across his lips. Jeke thought he saw a little bit of blood, but before he could get closer again, the elf stalked rapidly out of the stables, going the direction his friends had left in.
Jeke stood there for a few moments, pondering what had just happened, then went to sit on a nearby wooden crate. Eventually, he realized Willard was still standing there frozen, staring at him with wide eyes.
“What?” he questioned aggressively.
“An elf?” the boy blurted out. “A male elf, Jeke?”
Jeke bit off a retort, and then after a few moments, a smile spread slowly across his face.
