Miriel and Bertram looked out over Gustavsberg from the veranda on Shelby’s house. It was a mild day, and the pair were enjoying cool drinks while the city bustled below them. News of the four elves staying as “guests” of the local inquisitor had rapidly spread throughout the city, with various interpretations of exactly what had happened. Some said Shelby had caught the elves in a spying scheme, others that the elves were refugees of some sort, still others were surprisingly close to the truth, the people shrunk at the town fountain seemed to vouch for the fact that, if nothing else, the elves weren’t here to kill or enslave anyone. As it stood, they’d been at Shelby’s house for a few weeks, awaiting some messenger from the Imperial capital, personal “guests” of the inquisitor and enjoying the spacious manor the government had apparently granted her. Bertram had come to see Miriel every day, and while he often ended up the target of a shrinking spell, they spent plenty of time just talking.

“I’m really sorry about all of this,” Miriel said, sipping her drink a moment, “I guess… I guess it was kind of silly to think I could just skip over the border and fix all the problems our peoples had.”

Bertram shrugged and smiled, “I’ll say my opinion of elves is higher than it was a few weeks ago, so maybe it wasn’t a total loss.” He frowned as he looked out at the city walls, “Shelby says that the guy who’s supposed to talk to your sister will be here today, that after that you’ll all be free to go… are you heading back with them?”

Miriel looked away sadly, “I think so.”

Bertram nodded, his mouth a thin line, “I… I get it.” He forced a smile, “we’ve got today though, don’t we?”

Miriel grinned and held her hand up, sparks dancing along her fingertips, “don’t worry Bertram, I’ll be sure to leave you a few more memories…”

He shouted in surprise as he shot downward, the world spinning as he disappeared into the veranda’s lounge chair. He looked up to see an enormous face blocking out the sun, a giggling blonde elf’s face, matched by a massive hand reaching down for him. Her fingers curled underneath him, lifting him like a doll as she walked back into her room, her hips swaying slightly.

“Now what game do I want to play with my tiny human this time?” Miriel laughed, reaching up to begin pulling his trousers off. She loved undressing him when he was tiny, and she bit her lip to stifle a giggle as he struggled to hold his shirt on, a grin on his own face as his playful struggles did nothing to stop her as she easily stripped him. “Where oh where should my tiny toy go?”

“Your mouth!” he shouted. He was squirming naked in the palm of her hand now, and his world shook as Miriel flopped onto her bed.

“Hmm… okay,” Miriel began with a mischievous grin. She walked around to a small plate of toast that she’d brought to her room over breakfast. Shelby’s house didn’t have any servants, so it remained there, waiting for her to return it to the kitchens later. Next to the breadcrumbs was a small bowl of honey, and her eyes lit up as she realized how she wanted to “taste” Bertram.

“W-Wait!” Bertram protested as she lowered him down.

“Snacks don’t talk,” she lectured, pressing his body down into the viscous honey.

For Bertram the dish was the size of a wash basin, and he coughed and sputtered for air as her fingers easily pressed him below the surface of the sticky material. He’d never experienced anything like it, the honey was like a thick mud that seemed to suck him in, coating every inch of him and trapping him like a bug. He squirmed, his limbs sticking to his body as he sank further in, pushed by a single elfin finger.

Just when he was sure he was about to drown in the sweet morass her digits carefully lifted him out, the honey running off his body like an oozing sap. He blinked through the golden-brown haze as it dripped out of his eyes, and saw a pair of passive elven lips rising up to meet him, Miriel’s tongue traced over them eagerly as she prepared to receive him, a tasty treat she was eager to plop into her mouth.

He gasped as he was tossed into the dark cave, her tongue easily overpowering him and tossing him over itself to the back like he was a grape. He flipped over, trying to climb back towards her lips, only to see them seal shut, leaving him in blackness while her tongue played with him, a vacuum sealed him to the roof of her mouth as she sucked the honey off his skin, and from somewhere behind him a giggle echoed up her throat.

It didn’t take long for the elf to slurp the honey off of his tiny body as he was cradled and explored by her tongue, and once the last of the sweet morsel had been washed away from his tiny form by the slow back and forth swishing motions of her pooled spit, her tongue began to seek out more intimate areas. He gasped as he was roughly flipped, pushed against the front of her mouth while her tongue fought its way between his legs. He tried to shut them closed, but the slimy appendage easily forced them apart, teasing at his manhood and slowly sliding against it in a way that made him squirm, or would have if he’d had any freedom of movement while her tongue teased him.

He saw light as Miriel’s teeth parted, letting his head slide between her lips. He gasped as he looked up, seeing the smug look in the elf’s eyes for one single moment before she slurped him back in. Her tongue went wild between his legs then, driving him to new heights as he took a deep breathe, coughing as her spit filled his nose and lungs. He managed one final shout as the pleasure built to a climax, his body spasming as Miriel finished her work, a loud hum echoing and vibrating her mouth around him as she tasted the fruits of her labor.

“MMMM…” She arched her head back, letting the small amount of seed the shrunken man had produced slide down her throat. With a grin she swallowed with a loud gulp, savoring the intimate flavor…

A small squeak of surprise and fright echoed out as the small bulge slide down her throat. Her eyes shot open as she realized her mistake. Her face went red immediately as her mind raced, trying to think of a spell that would salvage the situation.

Bertram screamed, his fingers sliding against her throat as the powerful muscles forced him downward. A space opened up below him, and he fell feet first into an open space, tumbling into a pool of churning liquid with a splash.

“Miriel!” he shouted in panic, his heart racing. Suddenly the dark space around him lit up with a blue glow. He looked at his hands in surprise, seeing the familiar blue sparks of Miriel’s magic dancing along his body. He looked around at her undulating stomach walls a final time before everything was covered in the cerulean glow.

A moment later he shouted, falling through the air of Miriel’s bedroom. What felt like fifty feet to him was closer to five, but at his tiny size the tumble to the bed didn’t hurt in the slightest. He grunted as he bounced slightly on the bedspread, looking around and blinking. He was still covered in the mix of spit and the churned food inside Miriel’s stomach, but he was back outside of it at least.

“I’m sorry!” Miriel said, rushing over and dabbing at him with a small handkerchief, “it was an accident, I swear, b-but that was a pretty good teleport spell, huh?”

Bertram stared at her a moment, then grinned, laughing as he fell backwards onto the field sized bed, “it was a great teleport spell Miriel…”

“So, you’re not mad?” she questioned.

He shrugged and sighed, “A woman who swallows after she brings you off, what’s there to complain about?”

Miriel’s eyes went wide and she giggled, then lost the battle against herself and erupted into full blown laughter.

…

Tyrael sat in the small study in Shelby’s house, the inquisitor waited there with her, a sheaf of papers in one hand. They were to meet with a representative from the capital. She’d sent her apprentices off to the courtyard with Arthur the candlemaker, ostensibly to practice enchantments on a human subject, in reality simply to keep the three of them out of her hair while she discussed important matters.

The door opened, and their guest appeared. He was a tall human man with blonde hair, and an imperial officer’s uniform, curiously young for such an apparently important role, and even more curious with a tiny pink woman, a pixy? Riding on his shoulder.

“Gareth von Berger, I presume?” Shelby asked, handing the newcomer the sheath of papers.

“The same,” he said with a smile, sitting down across from Tyrael as the pixy fluttered around his head.

“How long is this going to take?” the pixy asked in a high voice, a trail of gold dust followed her as she buzzed around like a dragonfly, eventually settling on the top of Gareth’s head.

“This is Sky,” he muttered, embarrassed, “She’s… one of my wives.”

“One of?” Tyrael asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Long story,” he said with a chuckle, “now then… the Emperor asked me to come speak with you personally, it’s oddity for an Elven archmage to wander into his realm. I’ve read Shelby’s account of events, but I must hear it for myself, there is no new invasion coming?”

“No,” Tyrael said with a sigh, “the elven realms are in no condition for another war with the Empire, the Empress and her court desperately want one… but I fear our next war will be fought within.” She sighed, “I… I would like some guarantee that you humans will not involve yourselves, if I could have that.”

“I’m authorized to grant that,” Gareth said with a nod.

Shelby raised an eyebrow, “the emperor would grant you such authority Von Berger?”

The young man suddenly had a weary look on his face, “It wasn’t asked for, but yes it was granted. Apparently, he trusted me to make a decision on what to do here…” He sighed, “no human soldiers will intervene in… in an elven civil war, but if your faction should win, we want the border open, trade, our merchants receiving free passage in your lands and yours in ours.”

Tyrael smiled, “should we find ourselves with a new empress soon, I’m sure I can sway her to agree to that.”

“Do you expecting to be running things once you off the old lady in charge?” the pixy piped up.

Tyrael smiled, “I won’t sit on the throne, but… I expect to have the new occupant’s ear.”

“If that’s the case, be sure and fill it with your more enlightened view on humans,” Shelby cut in.

“I surely will,” Tyrael said pleasantly, “now before we are released, I have one other request… Things are likely to be ugly in the elven realms soon, and my sister is a yet untrained mage who will be a priority target for people wishing to hurt me. I’d like her to be… elsewhere, for a time.”

Gareth smiled and nodded, “I think I understand what you mean.”

…

“I’m going to tour the Empire!?” Miriel asked, clapping her hands together excitedly.

“Yes, you’ll be a personal guest of the Imperial family,” Gareth said with a smile, handing Miriel a fine steel badge with the emperor’s sigil on it. “You’ll be able to go anywhere in our lands, and any member of the nobility will house and clothe you if you need it.”

“Lord Von Berger and I thought it would be good to help Human-Elven relations,” Tyrael explained, “obviously I have too many duties at home, but you’re perfect for this role!”

“I-I can’t wait!” Miriel said, practically bouncing in place.

“Hey, that’s great!” Bertram said with a grin, clapping her on the back as she squealed happily and snuggled up to him. At first he’d been worried when Von Berger had summoned him and Miriel to the mansion’s lounge, the man had quite the reputation after all, but he’d been surprisingly easygoing. “Looks like you’ll finally get to see the Empire, just like you wanted!”

“And you as well,” Von Berger said with a sly grin, handing Bertram another stamped steel badge, identical to Miriel’s.

Bertram frowned, “I… I’m not sure I understand-“

“As thanks for your role in helping sort this all out the Emperor is granting you an esteemed position in the diplomatic corps, with a focus in Elven affairs.”

Bertram held up his hands and unconsciously stepped back, “W-Well the Emperor is… swell I’m sure, but I’m just a humble-“ he stopped himself before he could say thief, “reseller, and I couldn’t leave Gustavsberg so-“

“The offer also comes with a complete pardon for your various crimes,” Von Berger said with a predatory smile.

“Several of which have still outstanding warrants if the guards are to be believed,” Shelby cut in with a grin.

Bertram looked around the room, stunned, searching for words. Finally, with a scowl, he pinned the diplomatic corps badge to his shirt. With an angry look still on his face he gave Gareth a mocking salute.

“Glad to be of service,” he muttered.

“Your first assignment will be to accompany Miriel here as she tours the empire over the next year or so,” Gareth explained.

“This is so great!” Miriel said, oblivious to Bertram’s reluctance, “Bertram, you’re going to go with me! It’s going to be nothing but adventures and excitement for us!”

“Hooray,” he said neutrally, glaring at a smirking Von Berger. Still, as he felt Miriel snuggle against him and nuzzle his cheek slightly, a part of him couldn’t be that mad about his new “job.”

…

Tyrael finished packing her things, pausing and smiling over a pair of books Shelby had agreed to let her keep, one a history of Human-Elfin relations from the human perspective, the other a short treatise on alchemy which had intrigued her. The inquisitor had been a surprisingly good host, and Tyrael couldn’t help but feel a little sad that she would be leaving soon.

There was a knock at her door, “come in,” she said sweetly. She smiled as she saw the candlemaker, Arthur, nervously enter the room.

“You uh, wanted to see me before we left?” he asked.

“Yes, come sit,” she said, patting the bed next to her. He did so, and she sighed, “I think that things are in motion that may make the elven realms… dangerous in the future, for me at least. My apprentices and I would protect you of course, and you’ll always be close to us, but I’ll not drag you into it uninformed, no matter what you’ve agreed to already.”

Arthur thought a moment, “I honestly think I’d hate myself forever if I didn’t go back with you Mistress Tyrael,” he said finally, “I-I can use a sword, and a musket if you think someone will try to hurt you, I know it wouldn’t be much but-“

Tyrael just giggled and reached up to pat him on the head, “Yes, you were stunningly brave when you thought we were harming your fellow townspeople, very well…” She stood up in front of him, “It’s funny,” she mused, “I came here to drag my sister back, and now she’s staying and I’m bringing a human back with me… the will of the gods is unknowable, isn’t it?”

“If you say so Mistress,” Arthur said, licking his lips as the elf’s fingertips glowed blue.

“So eager!” Tyrael said, holding the spell in her hand as she took a step closer. She held the glowing blue digits just under Arthur’s chin, grinning at his anticipation, “tell me what you are!”

“Your pet!” he almost shouted, clenching his fists and forcing himself to look at her.

“Good boy,” she laughed, flicking her fingers casually and allowing the blue sparks to race over the human, quickly reducing him to the size of a doll on the bed.

Arthur looked up at Tyrael’s majestic and statuesque body, towering over him. He grinned, falling backwards as awe overtook him. The air vibrated as the gigantic elf chuckled, and he silently thanked any gods that were listening for leading his, up until now, dull life into the hands of a beautiful elf. Those slender fingers slowly scooped him up, bringing him to a face the size of his house, an eager smiling one with blue eyes that seemed to see right through him.  

“Adorable!” she said with a smile, running a single finger over his head and ruffling his hair gently. “I’m going to have so much fun with you… you’re going to be my personal stress relief at the end of every day, I expect you to learn how to bring me to climax within a minute…”

“A-A minute!?” he stammered.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you some time to learn the ropes, we’ll start at five, then work our way down,” Tyrael said with a smirk, “when you’ve been adequately trained, I’ll start giving you to my apprentices as a reward when they’ve been good.”

“Gods yes,” he moaned as Tyrael’s finger drifted lower, circling his manhood, painfully hard beneath his trousers as she cradled him in her other hand. The pressure on the outside of his trousers was becoming too much, and he looked at her pleadingly, “Mistress Tyrael, I’m going to… mess my-“ he gasped as Tyrael just giggled and increased her movements.

“A tiny human pet doesn’t need clothes, does he?” she teased, “I’ll strip them off you after and toss them in the rubbish bin.”

“B-But-“

She giggled and rolled her eyes, “I’ll get you new clothes when we get back to my observatory, although just having you go naked all the time is tempting…” He spasmed in her grip, biting his lip and trying not to moan as he came in his pants, “none of that, make some noise Arthur!” Tyrael said eagerly. She moved her finger up and down against him faster, causing his eyes to cross and a loud groan to escape his lips. “Yes!” Tyrael crowed excitedly, laughing as she enjoyed the sight of his body going limp, “a woman wants to hear the results of her work, no more holding back, you understand?”

“Gods, I don’t think I’ll be able to,” Arthur said, blinking as he realized his ears had popped.

“That’s the spirit,” Tyrael laughed, “now as I said, you’ll need to cross the border somewhere hidden…” she slowly lowered him down to her waist, parting her mage’s robe to reveal her own trousers. She slowly unlaced the top, pulling them away to reveal her cotton undergarments. “Try not to move too much, or I’ll have to slip you in the back,” she said with a wink.

Arthur felt himself slide against her palm as she tipped it, sending him tumbling down. He flailed briefly as he fell through the air, bouncing against the outstretched hammock of Tyrael’s underwear and finally down to where the bottom met her womanhood. His light disappeared as Tyrael tied the drawstring of her pants once more, sealing him against her and concealing him from view. She shivered a moment as he squirmed against a particularly sensitive area, then giggled.

“Enjoy the journey,” she said as she picked up her travel sack. She threw it over her back and left the room to meet her apprentices. As she walked down the stairs, with the human nowhere in sight, they shot her knowing smiles.

…

“So, the elf gets to stay?” Christina asked, leaning over the counter as Miriel cheerfully went through the shop, throwing anything into her travel bag that caught her fancy, apples, cheeses, smoked meats.

“She not only gets to stay, she’s touring the empire on a cultural mission or some other nonsense,” Bertram muttered, “and I’ve been drafted as her guide.”

Christina laughed, “it’ll do you good, you might actually make something of yourself. I’ll take care of your things while you’re away, like that bag of stolen pearls you buried out past the walls last month.”

He scowled, “I’m sure you will… I heard Shelby say that someone pilfered all of Nen’s smuggled goods before the guards found her storehouse, I wonder who did that?”

Christina shrugged and smiled, “it’s a mystery… can I interest you in some imported elven wine?”

“No,” Miriel said excitedly, running up to the counter with a small bottle in her hand, “I want to try gin, we don’t have it in the elven realms!”

“Fine, put it in the bag,” Bertram said with a wave. Miriel grinned and shoved the bottle in with the rest of the supplies she was buying for their journey.

“Say, who’s paying for all of this?” Christina asked hesitantly as Miriel eyed a display of ripe looking plums.

“Call it charity,” Bertram said with a grin, “after all you’ve profited enough on this whole affair-“

“No such thing as too much profit,” Christina growled, “Hey, elf, start putting some of that stuff back-“

“It would be a shame if, on our way out of town, I tipped Shelby off about the false bottom in your basement floor,” Bertram said casually.

Christina glared at him, then smiled at Miriel, “You know what, who knows when I’ll see you two again? Go ahead and take whatever you want!”

“Humans are so kind!” Miriel said happily, popping one of the plums into her mouth.

“See you around Christina,” Bertram said, dragging a protesting Miriel towards the door. In spite of everything, she smiled and waved goodbye.

…

Tyrael, her apprentices, Miriel, and Bertram met together at the city gates, each party outfitted for travel. Shelby was there as well, her obsidian goggles glinting in the mid morning sun as she watched from the gate with her men.

“Thanks for coming to save me,” Miriel said, hugging Tyrael, “I’m… I’m sorry I caused so much trouble for you.”

“I still maintain that the worst trouble you ever caused me was when you snuck a slice of mother’s birthday cake and knocked it on the floor,” Tyrael chuckled, “I… I do wish you wouldn’t be so impulsive, this could have gone badly, but…” She glanced at Bertram and smiled, “I suppose all’s well that ends well.”

“Are you going to be okay? Going back?” Miriel asked uncertainly, “the Empress… she’s not going to be happy when she hears you came here, even if it was to find me.”

“I think there might be a new Empress soon,” Tyrael said darkly, “Miriel… enjoy this time, don’t worry about me, I can take care of myself.” She turned to Bertram and smiled, “Take care of my sister human.”

“I’ll do my best,” he said with a nod, throwing an arm around the elf in question.

“We’ll be off then, see you again soon sister,” Tyrael said with a final nod. She turned and began walking back towards the elven border, her apprentices at her side.

“Well then,” Shelby said, stepping forward with a grin, “where are the two of you headed?”

“Melian,” Bertram said with a grin, “If I’ve got a stipend and an elf to entertain, then I think some gambling is in order.”

“Oooh, the city of Melian? I’ve heard it never sleeps!” Miriel said excitedly, “Let’s go!” She grabbed his hand and almost roughly dragged him down the road, and he stumbled and protested as he struggled to keep up. Shelby just chuckled and waved, wondering if she’d see the pair again.

“Come on!” Miriel said, pulling Bertram’s arm as they moved away from Gustavsberg.

“Miriel slow down!” he laughed, “we’re not going to sprint there!” She gave him a mischievious grin, and then held up her hand, “Wait,” he protested, “don’t-“ it was too late, he shot down, the world expanding as Miriel stood over him, a mountain of an elf who giggled as she leaned down to pick him up.

“If you’re too slow, I’ll just have to carry you!” she said, slipping the squirming and protesting former thief into the valley exposed by her low-cut mage’s robes. His cries were muffled as the warm pillows of flesh molded around him, seeming to swallow him up as Miriel giggled and pressed him further in. When he could no longer be seen, she happily began skipping her way down the road, humming a tune under her breath.