Miriel hummed happily as she skipped along the road, her elven mage robes flapping in the warm breeze. A proud summer court elf, her long blonde hair flowed freely in the sunlight, curling around her pointed ears as she took in the beautiful spring day.

Everyone had told her not to do this, that traveling alone to the human side of the border was tantamount to suicide, that human lands were full of greedy robbers and cutthroats, but so far things had seemed positively delightful! Granted she hadn’t met a human yet, but their roads were so well maintained, and there were even wells built every few miles, clearly the work of a clean minded and industrious people!

Miriel’s eyes lit up with excitement as she saw the first farmhouse, finally! She thought excitedly, time to go make some human friends. She stopped outside the fence, looking curiously into the fields of wheat beyond. She frowned as she didn’t see anyone, but with a shrug she opened the gate and decided to walk up the small path to the front door.

…

Jacen Earlman, slowly pulled the hammer back on the flintlock rifle, his hands shaking as his sons gripped knives, pitchforks, and hammers while his wife and daughters cowered in the kitchen under the table. The Elf was coming right up to his door!

“Are they invading papa!?” his son whimpered, his hands white as he gripped an old butcher knife.

“No,” he whispered, peering out the door’s peephole, “there’s just the one…”

“One’s all it takes,” his oldest son snarled, “they have that magic…”

“Aye, if she shrinks you keep your wits about you, run someplace safe before she can…” the farmer sighed, “stomp you.”

They all froze as there was a knock on the door.

…

Miriel frowned, “Hello?” she called, leaning over and peering into the window. It looked like there was still food on the table in there, but no sign of the humans… An alarming thought came to her, “Humans!?” she called, “are you in need of assistance?”

…

“Oh gods she’s mocking us!” the farmer whispered. He snarled, “on three, we’ll rush her, one, two-“

“Papa look!” his son shouted, peering out the window, “she’s leaving!”

…

Miriel shrugged and started back towards the road, obviously today was some kind of human holiday, and they were probably all at the village with their friends. She could see it in the distance, and she resumed her happy humming as she headed in that direction.

…

Bertram slunk through the streets of Gustavsberg. The border town was humming with activity, and for a dedicated thief and spy like himself there were plenty of targets, an inattentive merchant, a drunk soldier with a wallet fat from payday, a woman with too many children in tow not keeping an eye on her purse. He grinned and flexed his nimble fingers, he wouldn’t starve here, that was for sure.

He shot a look up at the sloped brick walls that circled the town, cannon emplacements dotting the angular corners of the star fort. It had been decades since any elven lords had seen fit to challenge the will of the humans here, but the legacy of the wars with the elves lived in every brick.

Bertram shuddered; he’d run afoul of Elven border guards before…

Look at the little bug run! The knife eared woman had cackled, raising a boot over his shrunken form. They’d had him for a few hours before a patrolling group of humans had stumbled upon the scene, he’d never been so happy to be arrested.

He wasn’t the only one with elves on the mind, an older man in a filthy robe was loudly decrying the menace over the border while a crowd gathered.

“I saw what they do to prisoners!” the man shouted, “they torture ya, they eat ya!” the crowd gasped in horror, and a few threw coins into a small can at the man’s feet. The fellow grinned a toothy smile, holding a hand high in the air, “even now they keep humans shrunk, as pets, they say they don’t, but we all know they do!” the crowd murmured and nodded in agreement. “I say,” the man began, “that the Emperor should send the army over there and burn down every one of those tree houses and put every knife eared head on a pike! Humans own this continent-“

“Excuse me,” a green skinned orc called, crossing his arms angrily.

The man scowled, “Well obviously we would make an exception for our orcish friends-“

“What about those snake women we’re allied with now?” another voice called.

“Well clearly the Lamia can be trusted,” the man stammered, losing the crowd’s interest, “and where would we be without the dwarves-“

Bertram chuckled as the man suddenly felt compelled to list all of the Empire’s nonhuman allies, of which there were many these days. The Imperial edicts on tolerance of non-humans had certainly changed things… Gustavsberg even had a small orcish community now, mostly mercenaries who had fit in easily enough with their own hatred of elves.

“Wow, humanity sure has a lot of new friends,” a woman’s cheerful voice came from behind him, “that’s why I came all this way, I heard humans are trying to be nicer to non-humans now!”

Bertram chuckled, “well as they say in the capital, the only thing that really matters to the Emperor these days is the shape of a person’s coin-“ He froze as he turned around to see the speaker, his eyes going wide as he took in those pointed ears.

“Hi!” she said gleefully, “I’m Miriel, I’m a-“

“ELF!” someone shouted. A bell somewhere began to sound and the crowd panicked, pushing and shoving at each other as they raced to clear the square.

“I knew it!” the man in the center of the square shouted, “they’re here to shrink everybody! Run! Run for your lives!”

Miriel’s eyes went wide, “No wait! I just wanted to come see your town and maybe- EEP!” Bertram’s knife was against her throat.

“Don’t try any magic words or gestures,” he said slowly, “just keep your hands where I can see them!” He glanced across the suddenly deserted square, where a group of guards were coming, muskets and swords in hand.

“W-Wait, I just wanted to come meet people!” she protested, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Bertram scowled, “yeah right, you-“ he paused, the elf seemed… honest, and knife ears or no, a pretty girl blinking away tears did something to him, and she was pretty, he stole a quick glance at her exposed cleavage, seemingly propped up and offered for viewing by those robes of hers. He sighed angrily, looking at the approaching guards, jails in this town are not a good place for a girl like this… especially an elf.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to come visit!” she whimpered, “I-I just thought maybe if more elves did-“

“Quiet!” he snapped, pulling the knife away from her neck. He grabbed her hand, blushing at how smooth it felt in his own. With a tug he began pulling her towards a nearby alley, there was a sewer access there were he could sneak her out of town.

Miriel’s face brightened, “I knew not all the humans could possibly be as evil as the Empress’s guards say, you must be one of those Paladins, here to help a poor person in need who-“

“Thief,” he muttered, glancing back as the guards searched the square for them.

“W-What!?” she gasped.

“I am a thief,” he repeated. He paused a moment, “how did you get in the city in the first place? There’s no way the guards would just let an elf walk in!”

“There weren’t any guards,” she said innocently, “I just thought maybe they had the day off!”

Bertram rolled his eyes, she’s got to be lying, guards in this town don’t just take a day off… he sighed, whatever, I just need to get her out of here.

He led her through the alley, stopping at a sewer grate he knew was loose, “now this here lets out about a quarter mile outside the walls,” he explained, pulling it loose and revealing the dank tunnel underneath, “just hide in there until nightfall and then you shouldn’t have any problems sneaking back to the Elven side of the border.”

“Oh,” she said, her long ears drooping slightly, “o-okay… thanks I guess.” Miriel sighed sadly, her trip to the human realms hadn’t turned out how she’d hoped at all.

…

Nen the goblin cackled as she looked over the chest full of Elven moon wine, “this stuff’s gonna go for a good price down in the Capital,” she muttered, wondering when her partner, a brash orc named Bula, would get back. The pair had a lucrative smuggling operation, getting banned goods from the Elven side of the border to the human one, and if anyone asked, they were just mercenaries working for the soldiers at the fort.

“We’ve got a problem,” Bula said, barging in to the small back room of the tavern, the muscular orc woman scowled, a fearsome look with the long scar across one side of her face, “something caused the guards to go crazy, it’s like someone kicked over an anthill out there.”

Nen’s eyes went wide, “b-but we paid the guards to be away from the gate for the next hour-“

“Well there are a good twenty humies watching the front gate now,” Bula growled, “they say there’s an elf on the loose! The old man who rants in the town square every day told me she already went on a shrinking spree and ate a couple people, squished a few more, says she’s here to capture human pets.”

“What?” Nen asked angrily, “that’s ridiculous, like a lone elf would just come over here and do that!”

Bula shrugged, “humies in this part of the empire are really scared of Elves I guess.”

“Come on,” Nen muttered, waving for her to follow, “let’s go check the alley, there’s a loose sewer grate there, we could stash some of this stuff down there until dark.”

The pair opened the door to the alley, then Nen froze, “look!” she whispered, pointing out in the alleyway, “it’s the elf!”

Miriel and Bertram were talking a moment, from what the pair of greenskins could overhear he was trying to convince her to get in the sewer.

“But it’s so gross!” Miriel complained, “can’t I just come with you to your house?”

“No way!” Betram said angrily, “I’m not having an elf over for dinner, just go!”

“I’ve got an idea,” Nen whispered, Bula raised an eyebrow as she lifted her hands, moving them slightly as she gathered magic to herself. Goblins weren’t quite as mystically talented as elves of course, but Nen had been a shaman back when she’d lived in the woods with her tribe. “These humies aren’t going to calm down until they catch their evil elf, so… let’s give them one!” She began muttering the spell, during her forays over the border Nen had picked up the ever-popular elven shrinking spell, and with a grin she targeted the human who was attempting to lead the elf to safety.

…

“For the last time, this is the only way for you to sneak out of town,” Bertram said angrily, “now-“ his stomach dropped, and the world seemed to stretch way. He shouted in panic, as the buildings behind the ally shot upwards, becoming massive monoliths as he shrank. He spun in confusion, seeing the twin walls of leather that made up the elf girl’s boots. His expression was one of pure horror as he slowly looked up into the gigantic elfin face.

“Oh gods,” he shouted in despair, “y-you shrank me! I tried to help you and you shrank me!”

“H-Hey! I didn’t do this!” Miriel shouted, looking around the alley for any sign of another spellcaster. She bit her lip and quickly scooped up the tiny human, “everything’s going to be okay, I’m going to take care of you!” she promised.

“You wanted a pet,” he said, realizing, “oh gods, that’s why you snuck into our town, to shrink yourself a human pet!” Bertram nearly fainted in her grip, “a-and a handsome young man like me… Oh I walked right into it!”

“Hey!” Miriel said, a little anger annoyance into her voice, “Handsome? I mean you’re cute but-“

“Look, the elf shrank that poor man!” a guard shouted. Miriel turned and her eyes went wide as a group of four human soldiers ran into the alleyway.

…

“Oh ho ho, here come the guards,” Nen laughed, peering out from the cracked tavern door, “let’s give our elf a little more help.” She muttered the shrinking spell again, focusing on a human soldier who was drawing a sword.

…

“Ah!” the guard captain shouted as he shot downward, reduced to the size of a toy, “she got me!”

“I did not!” Miriel protested, “Look I didn’t even cast any spells!”

*BOOM* the musket fire echoed over the alley, causing Miriel to squeak as she ducked involuntarily, a bit of brick behind her exploded into jagged bits of rock that stung her cheeks.

“Run you idiot!” Bertram shouted, still stuck in her hand.

Miriel bit her lip, she really didn’t want to antagonize the humans more, but… With a steely look she raised her hands, gesturing in a quick set of well-practiced motions while she muttered an incantation under her breath.

A shimmering blue barrier appeared between Miriel and the approaching guards, knocking them to the ground as they clambered into it. A moment later there was a flash, then the alley beyond was filled with smoke as Miriel covered her escape, clutching Bertram in her hands all the while.

…

“Damn, I can’t believe she got away from them,” Nen muttered, locking the door as the guards out in the alley shouted and tried to retrieve their shrunken commander.

“So what now?” Bula asked.

Nen smirked and shrugged, “well, the humies will all be looking for an elf, I say we just move our illegal goods around while the guards are all playing catch the knife-ear, if we get caught, we’ll just say all this stuff obviously belongs to the elf and we just found it.”

“Sounds good to me,” Bula said with a grin.

…

Miriel’s heart pounded as she bit her lip, trying to think of what to do. She felt the tiny human moving in her hands and nervously raised him to her face, smiling feebly.

“H-Hey little guy, how are you holding up?”

Bertram sighed, “just kicking myself for trying to help someone,” he muttered. He had watched the fight, and something had stuck out to him, “you didn’t shrink the guard,” he said, “I’m guessing you really didn’t do me either?”

Miriel beamed, “Yes! Exactly, I’m innocent!”

“Well, of that,” Bertram muttered, “I’m Bertram by the way…”

“Miriel!” she said excitedly, “well I hoped my first human friend would be under more pleasant circumstances, now how do we get out of this one?”

Bertram blinked, trying to decide whether to object to the use of “friend” or perhaps chastise the elf for her upbeat attitude minutes after being shot at. He opened his mouth to say something, then paused, taking in the enormous elven face grinning down at him eagerly. A part of him remembered all the horror stories from the wars, and his own experience with the elven guards, and realized it would be wiser to be polite to the giant elf currently holding his life in her hands.

“Okay,” he said slowly, “there’s a shopkeeper near here, she helps me fence stuff… she can hide you from the guards, can you unshrink me?”

“Uh… maybe?” the elf muttered, “our shrinking spells are deliberately hard to undo, we don’t want your human mages just unshrinking people, right? I can probably figure it out, but it’ll take me some time, like untying a really hard knot. If I had the person who did it I could undo it easily though.”

“Right,” Bertram muttered with a sigh.

…

Christina latched the front door, putting out her “closed” sign as she drew the blinds. With word of an elf on the prowl she didn’t want to take any chances, and she’d tucked a pistol into the band of her trousers just in case.

A sudden knock at her back door startled her, and one hand went to the pistol’s grip as she slowly slide the viewslot open. Her eyes went wide as a grinning blonde woman with dagger sharp ears waved eagerly at her.

“Hi!”

Christina slammed the slot back in place and drew the pistol, cocking the hammer back as she stepped away from the door, “I-I’m warning you I have a gun!” she stammered.

“Christina, open the door!” she frowned, she recognized that voice…

“Bertram?”

“Yes, just open the slot again!”

Christina frowned, but shakily reached out her hand, slowly siding the viewslot on the back door open. Bertram was in the elf’s hand, held up to the slot. Her heart sank.

“P-please don’t hurt him elf!” she said, “whatever he did to offend you he didn’t mean it, he’s just a little… unsophisticated!”

“Wow!” Bertram said angrily, crossing his arms over the elf’s fingers, curled across his chest, “the elf didn’t do this, she’s being framed!”

Christina bit her lip, “how do I know she didn’t mind control you? You don’t strike me as a guy with a lot of willpower Bert!”

He rolled his eyes, “Miriel, blow the door open.”

Miriel’s eyes widened, “uh… isn’t this woman your friend?”

“Yeah, and she’s being difficult so I want you to blow the side of her shop open,” Bertram said, shooting a grin at Christina through the door.

“Uh… okay,” Miriel said hesitantly, raising a hand and causing sparks to dance on her fingers.

“Wait!” Christina shouted, “damn you Bertram!” she threw the door open, revealing a woman with dark curly hair and a tanned complexion, a merchant’s dress rattling with pocketed coins as she beckoned them in.

“Thanks!” Miriel said excitedly, “wow, a human store!” she immediately wandered over to small shelf showing imported fruits, hot peppers, apples, tomatoes, “we don’t have a lot of this stuff over the border…” she picked up one of the apples, eyeing it before taking a large bite. Her eyes lit up, “mmm! So sweet!”

“Hey, that’s a special kind of apple they only grow in the capital!” Christina protested, “they cost two thalers each-“

“Two thalers for an apple?” Bertram asked, looking at an apple bigger than he was, “and they say I’m a thief…”

“Enough!” Christina exclaimed angrily, “what the hell is going on? You show up at my house tiny and in an elf’s hand, and you insist she didn’t do it, you realize how ridiculous that sounds?”

“But I really didn’t!” Miriel protested, “he just sort of… shrank in front of me!”

“Wow, what a compelling case, let me just call the guards and sort this all out,” Christina said angrily, “well…” she regarded Miriel who was looking around the shop in wonder, “she definitely doesn’t seem like she’s here to scout for an invasion…”

“Well most of my family is in the army,” Miriel admitted, “but I think this whole problem our peoples are having is just a big misunderstanding, I mean maybe if a nice elf came over, you guys would all calm down-“

“Calm down? You tried to enslave our entire race!” Christina spat.

“W-Well you were expanding so rapidly, we felt threatened and-“ Miriel started, but then she stopped herself, “look, I get maybe there’s some history, but I’m here on a mission of peace!”

The three of them heard men running through the street and shouting guards, “good job,” Bertram said sarcastically.

“Well I didn’t know some… some JERK was going to frame me as some kind of evil human-shrinking elf!” she said defensively. She smiled and held him up to her face, “I mean, we were getting along really well up until you got tiny!”

“You were now?” Christina asked with a smirk, “be careful elf, he’ll charm his way into your heart and then be gone before you even wake up, I’ve seen it before.”

“That’s okay, he’s tiny he can’t get far!” Miriel said with an oblivious smile, “look, I can just tuck him right here!”

“Hey, what-“ Bertram began, but he was quickly muffled as Miriel slipped him down into her cleavage, giggling as she slowly pushed him deeper and out of sight, smothering him between the ample pale flesh of her breasts.

“Well that’s one way to keep track of Bert,” Christina smirked, “listen… elf-“

“Miriel!” she introduced with a smile.

“Miriel, head up those stairs there,” she nodded, “there’s an attic hideaway that Bert and a few of my less wholesome suppliers use when they’re in town. You two just… stay up there until I figure out what to do about this.”

“Wow,” Miriel gushed, “my cousins always told me how greedy and mean humans were, but you’re going to offer up your home, just like that?”

She just shrugged, “don’t worry, I’ll collect from Bert when this is over, you just go rest.” The elf nodded, and with a grin skipped happily up the stairs. Christina went behind her counter and collapsed into her chair a moment, tucking her pistol back into the sash around her waist and wondering what exactly she’d just been dragged into.

…

Miriel slowly walked up the attic staircase, looking around at the small bed and… a curious structure, it had a pair of what looked like handles on it, but she couldn’t determine the use… With a frown she reached out and slowly turned one, then almost jumped back as water poured out of the sink’s spout.

“Elemental magic?” Miriel mused, running her finger along the spout, “but no runes, no spirits…” she gasped, “no magic at all!” she quickly reached down her shirt and withdrew a gasping Bertram, “what’s this?”

“A sink,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “do the elves not have indoor plumbing?”

“We do!” she said defensively, “we just use elemental magic to move water into our houses… what powers yours, demons?”

“I think it’s the water tower,” he muttered, “but don’t ask me how it works.”

“Hmm…” Miriel stroked her chin, “well if you’re sure it’s not demons… then this basin should work to scrub you off!”

“Scrub me off?” his eyes went wide, “look, whatever elven mischief you’re planning-“

“It’s called hygiene!” Miriel said, “you seem a little grimy, and since I’ve got you tiny, I’m going to clean you up!” She let the sink fill, dipping her hands in the water and frowning. She held her hand over the pooled water a moment, “I guess humans don’t have warm running water yet…” she muttered. Her hand glowed, and suddenly steam rose over the water, she dipped a finger in, then smiled.

“H-Hey!” Bertram protested as she started pulling at his pant leg, “you can’t just-“

“Aw, but if we’re going to be adventuring together, I really should help take care of you,” Miriel said, a mischievous smile on her face.

“Adventuring-“ Bertram scowled, “I tried to help you get away from some guards, I was just trying to do something nice-“

“And that’s what I’m trying to do right now,” Miriel said with a smirk, “something nice!” she kept tugging at his shirtsleeve, this time the garment slid over his head and into her fingers, and with a giggle she tucked it into her pocket.

“T-This is just like an elf,” he said, hissing as she ran a finger the size of his leg up his torso, licking her lips as she felt his abs, his chest, “you get your hands on a tiny human, and suddenly I’m just your plaything!”

Miriel paused, and pulled her other hand away, leaving him in her palm, “Fine,” she said simply, “if you really don’t want me to give you a bath, I won’t, but if you do let me give you a bath…” She gave him a look that instantly told him she’d seen him staring at her chest earlier, “maybe I could take something off too? To make you feel more comfortable…”

Bertram gulped, looking up at the colossus of an elf. To tell the truth, the humiliation aside, a part of him wasn’t at all opposed to the idea of the pretty elf’s fingers running over his naked body, being trapped between those breasts had certainly been… interesting, and another part of him very much wanted to see them in full.

This is how humans get enslaved to elves! He scolded himself, he wouldn’t fall for this, no he’d-

“Okay,” he croaked, causing Miriel’s to beam excitedly.

“Good human,” she teased, sliding his pants off next, without his struggles they came easily, and soon joined his shirt in her pocket. She looked at his naked body, hungrily taking in the tiny man in the palm of her hand. She slowly lowered her hand into the pooled water in the sink, and he felt the pleasantly warm water rise around him as her palm let him go.

I’m swimming in a sink, he thought to himself as he felt his heart skip a beat. The basin walls rose around him, reminding him of his small size, I’m-

His racing mind was quickly pulled away from thoughts of his size but the sight of Miriel undoing the first of the buttons on her robe, just below that inviting cleavage. The robe seemed to slide off her, and his mouth dropped and he almost forgot to tread water as he took in the immaculate pale elven skin, the perfectly pert round breasts that loomed over him, each the size of a small house.

“Now then,” Miriel purred, sliding her hands back into the water and gripping him, “let’s get you cleaned up.” He realized she had a bar of soap in her hand, and he briefly wondered where she’d gotten it, Christina certainly hadn’t stocked the attic room with it.

Elven, he thought as the powerful floral smell washed over him, has to be. Miriel rubbed the suds into his skin, and he groaned as a tingling sensation lit his nerves wherever it touched. A finger the size of his leg drifted between his legs, and he gasped in a way that had nothing to do with the enchanted soap.

“Humans are… bigger here, than elven men,” Miriel giggled, “well, you are when you’re not tiny… maybe that’s why so many of my kin insist on shrinking you? It does make it a little less intimidating,” she winked.

“Gods above,” he groaned, writhing in her grip.

“Stay still,” she ordered, grinning as he fought her finger’s motions. He spasmed and quaked as he came, gasping the names of several deities she didn’t recognize. She just giggled, “that’s it, get it all out…” she was merciless as her fingers continued to toy with him through his orgasm, and as he went limp, she slowly drew him out, gently rubbing a nearby hand towel over him.

“It won’t work,” he moaned in a tired voice, causing her to pause.

“What won’t work?” Miriel asked with a confused smile.

“Y-You’re trying to trick me into agreeing to go back with you and be your pet,” he muttered, “but I see right through it!”

She just giggled and rolled her eyes, “maybe I am!” she said in a sweet voice, “but for now don’t worry about it, just relax!” she lifted him up and wedged him between her breasts again, bending over to draw her robe back up and tightly bind it, holding him back in place. She nodded happily at how much cleaner his naked body felt against her skin than he had earlier.

Satisfied that her human wasn’t going anywhere, Miriel casually walked over to the room’s small bookshelf and decided to see if the humans had any interesting volumes unavailable in her homeland. She raised an eyebrow at the spine of one, reading “A Journey Among the Winter Elves,” and decided to see what the winter court of her people had been up to in the century or so they’d been out of contact. Opening the book, she flopped on the bed and waited for Christina to return.

…

Christina opened the attic door and glanced around, spotting the elf dozing on the bed. Bertram was out of sight, no doubt entrapped somewhere on the elf’s person. She sighed, that stereotype regarding elves and reduced humans was evidently quite true.

“Hey,” she called, causing the elf to start upright. She tossed a brown wig and a wide brimmed Sunday hat onto the bed, “first thing’s first, that blonde hair and the ears need to be covered up!”

“Thanks!” Miriel said excitedly, throwing the wig over her blonde locks.

“Did you find anything out?” Betram called, his head poking up between the elf’s ample bosom. Christina had to fight a laugh at seeing him in such a state, and he blushed, “any other elves running around shrinking people?”

“Well if you believe the rumor it’s anywhere between one and ten elves, and they’re all very cruel and bloodthirsty,” Christina replied, rolling her eyes, “now nobody has actually seen this troupe of elves, so I have to conclude it’s all just rumors. If there is another spellcaster shrinking people, I don’t think it’s a knife ear.”

“Great!” Miriel beamed, “so we just find the person who did the shrinking, bring them to the guards, and then everyone will see this was all just a big misunderstanding!”

“So your plan is to wander the streets of a strange city looking for a spellcaster you’re not sure exists,” Christina said disapprovingly.

“It’ll be fine, I’ve got Betram to help me!” Miriel said excitedly, drawing him out of her cleavage and causing him to yelp at being shown naked in front of Christina.

The shopkeeper bit her lip to keep from laughing, and also blushed, “Well… good luck.”

…

At the elven border fort Mage-General Tyrael stalked through the hallways, her black armor clanking as her apprentices following behind her nervously in their night-black robes studded with gold stars. With a wave of her hand the fort captain’s office door flew open, surprising the young elfven man inside.

“Y-You can’t just barge in here!” he started, “even a mage-general must-“ he grasped his throat as Tyrael flicked her wrist, causing him to rise in the air as though fingers made of wind had squeezed his throat and lifted him.

“My little sister Miriel has gone missing,” Tyrael said in a cool voice, “it would be in everyone’s best interest if she was found immediately.”

Miriel frowned, looking down at the plain and drab brown coat and white shirt that Christina had given her, “are you sure you don’t have something a little more… interesting, for me to wear?” Miriel asked, “I’ve seen pictures of humans in storybooks that wore way nicer clothing than this!”

“Most of those humans weren’t trying to avoid being hung for shrinking people,” Christina muttered, straightening the wide brimmed hat so that it covered Miriel’s ears. “Now explain to me what your plan is again?”

“I just need to find the other spellcaster,” Miriel said with a smile, “I’ll be able to tell who it was as soon as I see them use a bit of magic, then I can match their signature to the shrinking curse currently on Bertram here!”

“So I’m guessing that means I need to go out with you, and can’t simply relax here on the counter?” the tiny thief asked, looking up at the two of them and crossing his arms.

“Yep! Come on, it’ll be fun!” Miriel said, reaching for him and scooping him up easily, “now where would we find spellcasters in a human town? Elven ones have them pretty much all over, but I know you guys don’t have as many mages…”

“Any human mages out here will be with the military,” Christina said, “there might be some non-human ones coming and going on other business.”

“Great, so you’re going to go closer to the people trying to capture and kill you,” Bertram grinned, “well the mages are going to be protected as VIPs so-”

“Bertram knows a way into the barracks,” Christina volunteered with a smug smirk.

“Really!?” Miriel said excitedly, “that’s great!”

“Thanks Christina,” he muttered as the elf excitedly slipped him into her front breast pocket.

“Hey, you want to get back to full size, right?” Christina grinned. Her finger stretched out and gently ruffled his hair, “then again, maybe you don’t? I kind of like you better at this size, more manageable, maybe the elves are onto something with this tiny pet business.”

“I don’t know why you two are so hung up on the idea that I’m trying to keep Bertram as a pet,” Miriel said a little defensively, “yes he’s very cute at this size but-“

“Look, I won’t judge why you came over here, like I said I totally understand!” Christina began, throwing her arms up a little hesitantly, “just you know… maybe you only need the one pet, right?”

“Y-You think I’m going to shrink you?” Miriel asked, a little taken aback, “now see here, I came over the border to make friends!” she scowled as she walked towards the shop door, adjusting the fake hair and hat to hide her ears again. With a huff she buttoned the pocket, concealing Bertram from view as she turned back to Christina for one last remark, “Elves are nice! Nice!”

…

“Elves,” Inquisitor Shelby began as she stalked through the barracks, “Are the devil’s bastard children!” She was a gaunt woman, pale, with wavy rich black hair that matched the obsidian tinted goggles she wore at nearly all times. Red dragon scales clinked against steel chainmail, the expensive spell-proof vest serving as evidence of the inquisitor’s wealth and success in her trade.

“So, you’re sure there was an elf?” the guard captain asked uncertainly, as soon as one of his men had turned up shrunk he’d sent for the inquisitor, a woman known for hunting rogue human mages, vampires, and other supernatural troublemakers.

“Oh yes, there’s no mistaking the elven shrinking spell,” Shelby whispered, leaning over the tiny man on the captain’s desk with a grin. She snatched him up, causing a small squeak of surprise as she dangled the man by one limb. “As you can see,” she muttered, gently prodding the man in the belly with one finger, “his clothing and equipment were reduced in size with him, classic elven spellcraft! Pixies shrink only the body, leaving you struggling in your own clothing, human mages likewise target only a specific object, having to be more efficient with their mana than their elven brethren who overflow with it.”

She grinned, her ruby red lips seeming like they were painted on her otherwise pale face. She slowly opened her mouth, lowering the man in with a scream as the humid darkness. The guard captain started, and reached for her, but she held up a hand even as the man’s muffled cries for help echoed through her cheeks. She grinned, letting her tongue run over the terrified shrunken man, and then a moment later she spat him back out into her palm.

“Hmm…” Shelby muttered, “a bit off for elven magic…”

“You can taste that?” the guard captain asked incredulously.

“Most magic leaves a nearly imperceptible physical residue,” Shelby explained, “elven mages often leave a sweet taste on victims, shrinking curses, healing, a fireball,” she shrugged.

“D-Did you have to stick me in your mouth to check that?” the terrified shrunken guard stuttered

“Of course my dear boy,” Shelby said dismissively, “think of all I’ve learned!” she stroked her chin as she gently twirled the tiny man with her other hand like he was a fidget toy. He grunted and protested while she thought, and the guard captain looked on uncomfortably. “This is not the work of an Elven archmage, that’s for sure,” Shelby decided, “too bitter… no, something’s off here, but I’ll get to the bottom of it, and then we’ll hang that elf.” She gently laid the tiny guard back on his captain’s desk.

“Can you er… fix him?” the captain asked uncertainly, glancing down at his miniaturized soldier.

Shelby paused, “you’ve got a few mages running around,” she said dismissively, “have them start working on it, I’m sure they can fix him right up in a few days.”

“Of course,” the captain nodded, “where will you start your search?”

“Summer court elves have very particular tastes,” Shelby mused, “she’s behind enemy lines, likely alone, she’ll want something comforting, something… sweet.”

…

“Oh this place smells good!” Miriel said excitedly, standing in line at the bakery.

From inside her pocket Bertram sighed, Miriel had immediately gotten distracted as they’d passed the sweet shop, and her stomach growled as she diverted from the path to the fort barracks and towards the smell of baked goods.

Maybe instead of forts we should have just piled apple turnovers near the border, he thought, a little annoyed.

“Bertram,” she hissed down at her pocket.

“What?” he asked, “don’t talk to your pocket in public!”

“I don’t have any human coins!” she whispered as the line moved forward.

“Just wait until someone else’s order comes up, and go take it from the pick up window!” Bertram said, exasperated.

“B-But that’s stealing!” she whispered.

“Oh no, not stealing, if you stole something the guards might come after you!” Bertram said sarcastically, “just do it!”

Miriel gulped, stepping out of line and slowly walking over to the pickup counter. She shot a glance at the humans around her, none of them seemed to care or were wrapped up in their own affairs. Several were waiting in small chairs, presumably for their orders… one of which she was going to…

Steal, she thought, beads of sweat forming on her forehead, okay, you can do it Miriel. She took a deep breath, then snatched a small plate with a turnover on it, walking as quickly as she could for the door. By the moon! She thought excitedly as she walked out the door, it worked!

“Bertram!” she hissed, “I did it, I stole a turnover!”

“Congratulations on your life of crime,” he muttered.

“Excuse me miss,” a woman’s voice called.

Miriel stopped with a squeak of fright, then slowly turned around, the plate in her hand shaking. A pale woman with a pair of obsidian black goggles smiled at her, the red dragon scale vest shimmering slightly in the morning sun, along with the pearl gripped pair of pistols on either side of her belt.

“Shelby Graveflower, Imperial inquisitor,” she said pleasantly, closing the distance between her and the elf in a single step, “that turnover looks quite delicious…” she shot a conspiratorial glance around, “the exact kind an elf would want to eat for breakfast.”

Miriel’s heart skipped a beat, “oh well uh-“

“Quite possibly with a side of shrunken humans,” Shelby hissed. Miriel squeaked as Shelby grinned, “yes, the elves can be quite gruesome, sorry to ruin your breakfast, but I saw you and I realized right away…”

“R-Realized what!” Miriel said, closing her eyes, this is it, she knows!

“Realized I had to find the nearest bakery,” Shelby said mildly, “wherever did you get this pastry?” Miriel shakily pointed back in the direction she’d come, and Shelby smiled, “excellent my dear, I’ll have this elf behind bars before you can say shrinking spell.” With a grin the inquisitor raced off.

Bertram, who had been listening intently from inside Miriel’s pocket frowned, I really hope that woman doesn’t represent our town’s readiness for elven attack… then again, Miriel had apparently walked right in.

…

Tyrael held her hand up, causing her two apprentices to stop. So far, the trio hadn’t encountered any humans, but the smoking chimney on the farmhouse in front of them indicated the presence of the rival species.

“Mistress,” one began, “we can go around-“

Tyrael ignored her, walking up to the farmhouse. The farmer spotted her from his garden, and shouted in fear as he ran for the door. He emerged a moment later with his musket in hand, leveling it Tyrael.

“I’m warning you-“ despite the “warning” the man squeezed the trigger, and there was a boom and a puff of milky white smoke that stung the nostrils of the two apprentices, who recoiled from the noise. Tyrael just stared at the musket ball suspended in air in front of her face, and then a second later it dropped harmlessly to the ground. The farmer screamed in fright, then ran for the farmhouse.

“You stopped that human’s weapon!” one of her apprentices said excitedly. The girl ran to her side to look for injuries, “I thought that was impossible!”

“I survived the Field of Thunder girl,” Tyrael chuckled, “if I couldn’t outlast a few humans with guns, I wouldn’t be standing here.” She waved her hand, and with a flash the farmhouse was gone, replaced by a tiny structure that only came up to the archmage’s boot clad ankles.

“Gods above,” Jacen whispered, looking out the window of his farmhouse to see a column of leather rising into the sky, that’s a boot, THAT’S A BOOT!

“Now girls,” Tyrael said with a wicked chuckle, “I’ll show you just how to deal with an uppity human like this…” Her apprentices gulped nervously as she knelt down over the structure, and she couldn’t help but smirk. The two girls were from the forests, they probably hadn’t ever seen a human until now, and propaganda aside no doubt they worried she would hurt the poor thing. Slowly she put her hand, now the size of the farmhouse, outside of the door, “pspspspsspsspsp,” she began in a low whisper, as though she were calling a cat from behind a piece of furniture.

The farmer peered out, confused, “what on earth is she doing?” he asked aloud, thankful that his wife and children had gone to market today.

“Come on out!” Tyrael said in a soothing voice, “I’ve got a treat!” she produced a single berry from her pocket.

The farmer rolled his eyes, fear giving way to annoyance. Fear quickly returned as his entire house shifted as the elf picked it up.

“Come on,” Tyrael muttered, gently rocking it like a salt shaker. Finally the human tumbled out through his front door with a scream, landing in her palm. “There we go!” she grinned and held him up so the apprentices could see.

“So cute!” one of them gushed, leaning in for a closer look.

“Yes, they are,” Tyrael mused, “tell me human, did another elf come by here?”

“Yes!” he said eagerly, shifting in the room sized palm of the elf, “s-she had a blue robe on, we shut the door and didn’t talk to her!”

“That would be Miriel,” Tyrael said, gently reaching down to pat the tiny human on the head, “thank you very much!” she lowered the berry onto her palm and looked at him eagerly, with a raised eyebrow the human picked up the berry, nearly the size of his torso, and took a bite.

“Can we keep him, Tyrael?” one of the apprentices asked, causing the human to start.

“No, I’m afraid he’s got a family to take care of,” Tyrael said with a sigh, “and part of our treaty with their government says we’re not supposed to keep humans anymore.” She stood up, setting the human’s house down and finally the human himself. With wave of her finger the house was full size again, along with the farmer.

“Now if you see that other elf again, tell her that her sister is looking for her, and she’s very upset!” Tyrael said, flicking the human’s nose slightly as she turned to leave.

“Oh! We should stop by here again on the way back,” one of her apprentices said eagerly, shooting the human a wink as he gaped at the departing elves.

“We’ll see,” Tyrael said with a chuckle as they headed down the road.

Jacen the farmer stared at them for a moment, then turned back to his house, which the elf hadn’t put back in the same spot it had been. For a moment he wondered how he’d explain to his family that the house had moved a good thirty feet, and then he wondered again if he could perhaps convince his wife to move somewhere far from the Elven border.

…

“Go in with the laundry cart,” Bertram whispered, his head poking out of Miriel’s pocket.

She nodded, and as a bored looking servant opened the side entrance of the brick barracks house. Slowly she slunk inside the small door after him. The servant, stopped, then turned around as he saw the side door close with Miriel inside it.

“Hey-“ he started, but Miriel tapped his forehead, a lance of blue sparks danced up her hand, and he fell unconscious to the floor.

“Impressive,” Bertram said with a grin, “now drag him into the broom closet over there…”

…

“So where would the human mages hang out?” Miriel asked.

“They’ve got a lounge down here somewhere,” Bertram said quietly, it’s just-“

A door opened, and a stern looking older man in the ornate robe of an imperial mage stepped out, he raised an eyebrow as he saw Miriel, and Bertram ducked into her pocket as the grey haired man approached.

“Excuse me,” he barked, “what are you doing out here?”

“Uhh…” Miriel thought, “I’m here to… enlist!”

Smooth, Bertram thought miserably.

“Hmm…” The mage raised an eyebrow, “you do seem to have a lot of magical aptitude, tell me girl have you ever cast any spells before?”

“A few!” Miriel beamed.

“And what did you say your name was?” the mage asked, stroking his chin.

“Christina!” Miriel lied, throwing out the only human name she could think of.

It just gets better and better, Bertram thought in exasperation.

…

“Just fill out this quick written survey on magical concepts, and we can set up a live spell test,” the mage said excitedly, putting the paper in front of Miriel. “I can’t believe such a talented applicant would just walk in here, tell me, have you considered the Imperial Academy down in the capital?”

“Uh… well I would like to go there someday,” Miriel mused.

“I’ll just leave you to it,” the head mage said eagerly, stepping outside.

Miriel licked her lips nervously, then slowly drew Bertram out of her pocket, setting him down on the table next to a field sized paper.

“What?” Bertram hissed, “you can’t seriously be thinking about doing the test!?”

“Well we need to find the other mages and see if any of them are the ones that made you tiny,” Miriel said excitedly, “so far I know it wasn’t that lead guy, his magic feels way different than the one that shrank you… now help me with this test, there are a lot of human specific questions on here… like if I was working in a unit with cold blooded allies what healing spells would I avoid?”

“How the hell should I know?” Bertram asked, “aren’t elves way better mages than humans? You should ace this thing!”

“Our empire only has elves living in it!” Miriel protested, “and all of our combat spells are based on fighting…”

“Humans?” Bertram asked, crossing his arms and looking up at the massive elf.

“Yeah,” Miriel said sheepishly, “or other elves… like this here has a section on combating… what exactly is a Scylla?”

“I imagine if you shoot enough fireballs at it it doesn’t matter what it is,” Bertram said.

“I’ll put fire, and lots of it!” Miriel said. She stood up, slowly pacing as she read the paper, “now… a draugr…”

“Fire?” Bertram asked with a shrug, “just put that for everything.”

The door burst open suddenly, and Miriel started, rocking the small desk and sending Bertram tumbling down into the seat. He was too stunned to scream, but when his back slammed into the seat, feeling like a 50-foot drop, it didn’t hurt much, like he’d just fallen out of bed…

Benefits of being small, he thought in a daze.

“I heard there was a new mage applicant,” Shelby muttered, her dragonscale vest clinking as she barged into the room, “any and all magic users need to be scrutinized by-“ she frowned, “you’re the girl from before… from the pastry shop!”

Miriel tried not to look at Bertram as she kept eye contact with the inquisitor, slowly circling around the desk, “Uh, yes, good to see you again!”

Bertram looked up and his eyes went wide as he saw pert leather trouser clad elven bottom the size of a barn beginning to descend on him, “Miriel!” he squeaked, “wait-“

“What was that?” Shelby asked as Miriel’s bottom came down on the shrunken human, silencing him.

“Nothing, just a cough,” Miriel said, miming a cough into her hand.

Beneath her Bertram struggled feebly, the soft globes of the elf’s cheeks providing enough pressure to hold him in place, but with all the pressure it wasn’t enough to crush him. He grunted as he tried to keep breathing, somehow the elf had that same fresh floral scent rolling off her, even down here, and it filled his lungs as he fought for any bit of air he could get.

Shelby leaned over the table, looking at the exam Miriel had been taking, “so… you’re a mage?”

“Uh yes, I was just thinking about enlisting-“ she was cut off as Shelby grabbed a strand of her blonde hair, sniffing it a moment, causing the elf to blush and wonder if the wig and hat were hiding her heritage enough.

“You are highly suspicious,” Shelby muttered.

“W-What, me?” Miriel exclaimed, “No! I’m just a simple mage looking for work!”

From underneath her bottom Bertram groaned, feeling her grinding her enormous ass down on him nervously. He was shifted around, pressed into the hard surface of the chair by the warm jiggling mass that seemed to mold around him, unyielding as he struggled for the edge, hoping to escape being pulverized into a red splotch by Miriel’s backside.

“No, it’s very clear what’s going on here…” Shelby said with a grin, a gleam seeming to shine behind her obsidian goggles, “you were at the shop, where an elf would want to have breakfast, and now you’re here at the imperial mage’s barracks, where an elf would want to infiltrate our magical defenses… Bertram screamed in frustration, his tiny shout muffled, but still heard underneath Miriel’s bottom. She squeaked; her face red as Shelby’s grin widened. “Get up!” she ordered, and with a sigh Miriel slowly lifted off the chair, revealing a red faced and nearly flattened Bertram.

“And a shrinking victim too!” Shelby crowed in triumph, quickly snatching up Bertram and causing him to cry out in surprise as he was dangled in front of her pale face by a single arm, “yes… I know exactly what’s going on here!”

“Yes,” Miriel said softly, “I… I suppose it’s fairly obvious-“

“You’re looking for the elf too!” Shelby said.

Miriel blinked, “Er… yes, you’ve caught me.”

“Obviously you stumbled upon this little victim of her shrinking spell,” she shook Bertram, “and you wanted to use him to try to track the elf rather than turn him over to the guards for help… very cutthroat, but I understand…”

“Yes,” Bertram deadpanned, “that’s exactly how it happened, you’re a brilliant detective.”

“A flatterer of a tiny man,” Shelby laughed, tossing him back towards Miriel, who snatched him out of the air and hugged him close to her chest. “Now then, I obviously can’t dissuade patriots like the two of you from helping with the elf hunt, so I suggest we combine forces.”

Miriel beamed, “Oh, okay!” she said eagerly while Bertram shook his head in a furious “no.”

“Now I must warn you,” Shelby began, “the elf is likely a deviant, it’s entirely possible she’s shrinking humans to add to her collection of living sex toys!”

“Goodness!” Miriel said, her face red, “y-you think the elf wants humans for-“

“Oh most definitely,” Shelby said, “imagine this, she finds a man she fancies, someone cute like our little… whathisname here-“

“Bertram,” he said with a sigh.

“Bertram,” Shelby continued, “she shrinks him small, then she slides him right down the front of her smallclothes, trapping him against her womanhood, think about it, it would be as large as he was, he would be helpless before her, with no choice but to pleasure his elven mistress or be smothered by the intoxicating smell of her lust!”

“Wow,” Miriel said, her face flushed. Bertram grunted as her grip on him tightened.

“And then, to add insult to the injury, after enjoying countless rounds of bliss at the hand of her poor human prisoner, she’d relax by making him rub her feet,” Shelby said, tinges of red glowing in the centers of her own chalky white cheeks, “i-it’s disgusting to even think about!”

“Y-Yeah,” Miriel agreed, gulping.

Shelby cleared her throat, “now, the elf is quite perfidious, she could be right under our noses-“

“Imagine that,” Bertram said, fighting to keep from rolling his eyes.

“Don’t worry tiny man,” Shelby said, “with the three of us working together, that elf won’t be able to kidnap you, ravage your tiny body, or make you worship her like some demented goddess!”

“D-Definitely,” Miriel agreed.

Bertram sighed, having a good idea of what was going to happen to him the next time Miriel got him alone.

…

Nen chuckled, looking over the wagon full of elven goods while Bula loaded it just outside the city walls. The green skinned pair had met outside the city, eager to get their illicit goods out of town while the guards were preoccupied with searching for the elf.

“It’s crazy, one little elf comes along and suddenly humies all love a girl with green skin,” Bula mused, “now usually there’s at least one in any tavern who wants to get pinned to the wall… but it’s like all the pinkskins suddenly want someone big and strong to protect them!”

“I know right?” Nen laughed, “usually they’re all like, get out of here, but suddenly it’s all, ‘hi Miss goblin, would you like a free meal on the house Miss goblin?” She snapped her fingers, levitating the last of the crates into the wagon with magic, “almost makes me feel bad that I was the one what shrunk them humies.”

“Eh, that elf probably was up to no good anyways, maybe we did them a favor?” Bula said with a shrug.

“I like it,” Nen said, “if you think about it we’re heroes, depriving the elven terror state of the tax revenue for these goods!”

“And the Human state too…” Bula said uncertainly.

Nen laughed, “yeah… well, my highest calling is profit. Let’s get this stuff to the cave.”

The pair of smugglers boarded the wagon, cracking the horse’s reigns as they sped off to the secret hideout where the smuggling ring stored illicit goods.

Tyrael looked at the fortified human town, “my my, they’ve certainly come a long way, I do miss the old human castles… these star forts of theirs lack a certain… elegance.”

“It almost sounds like you admire the humans,” one of her apprentices said, a hint of edge to her voice.

Tyrael chuckled, “I told you girl, I was at the Field of Thunder, I wouldn’t have survived if I believed humans to be the insects the royal court insists they are, and all of those mages who did think like that were blown to pieces.” She looked wistful a moment, “I remember when that Emperor of theirs, Gustav, the one they named that town for, he came with his army to this place to repel our invasion… we’d already defeated so many human armies at that point, what was one more?”

“Was Gustav the Elf-Killer as terrifying in person as they say?” her apprentice asked in a hushed tone.

“No,” Tyrael said, “all of that, the fiery eyes, the necklace of elf ears, that was all made up… he was a pudgy man, aged beyond his years, and he died young by human standards… most humans when meeting with the elven armies, they were brash, or afraid, or full of speeches about freedom… Gustav was just tired and annoyed with us, like our grand Elven invasion was just one more chore he had to do before he could go to bed. We met him on the field like any other foe and…” Tyrael sighed and looked up at the cannon emplacements on the human wall, “that was when the thunder started… but it wasn’t thunder.”

“Treacherous humans!” her apprentice hissed, “afraid to meet us with swords…”

Tyrael smirked, “and if a human with a sword asked you to forgo magic and meet him with your blade, would you?” The embarrassed silence told her all she needed to know. Tyrael let them ruminate on it while she scanned the walls for a way in. “Illusion magic,” she said softly, “it won’t hold if anyone with any sort of magical training lays eyes on us, but I think it’s our only option.” She snapped her fingers, and suddenly her elven ears were rounded human ones, her blonde hair went red, and her starry robe became a disheveled wool shirt and leather trousers. “Come on,” she said, gesturing for them to repeat her spell, “let’s go find my sister.”

…

Miriel yawned and sat up in the bed Christina had loaned them. It had been nice to take the wig and hat off at the end of the day and let her ears breathe a little. She’d parted ways with the Inquisitor, Shelby, after the two of them, along with a tiny Bertram, had questioned the various mages in the imperial barracks. She couldn’t help but giggle, Shelby would no doubt have seen through almost any illusion charm she could cast, but the silly disguise Christina had given her had apparently fooled the woman.

She groaned suddenly as something rubbed against her womanhood, a tiny squirming thing trapped in place by her tight cotton panties. She bit her lip, leaning back on the pillow and enjoying the movement a moment. She grinned and lifted the covers, sliding a thumb underneath her panties and drawing them up, letting a tiny, naked, and glistening Bertram get the first light he’d had since she’d shove him in there the night before.

“Good morning!” she giggled.

“Y-You trapped me in here!” Bertram shouted in protest, “you forced me to-“

“Oh, quit it,” Miriel said with a smirk, “yeah, you’re tiny, but if you really wanted out, you could have climbed out of my panties, and I certainly didn’t make you do anything before bed last night… I just helped you get in position!”

Bertram blushed, it was entirely true, but something in him didn’t want to admit that, after a lifetime of consuming anti-Elf propaganda, he’d folded and eagerly pleasured the first one that had flirted with him.

“O-Okay, maybe it wasn’t so bad…” it was warm, soft, and you loved staying in there… better not say that out loud. Bertram licked his lips, the tangy sweet taste of the elf’s womanhood still stuck to him as he gazed up along her gigantic body to her smug face, those pointed ears twitching slightly as she enjoyed his discomfort.

“Maybe I should just carry you around in my panties all the time?” she teased, “it would be nice and safe…”

He scowled, eager to take back some control of the conversation, “you love having me in here so much that you wouldn’t be able to get five feet without reaching a hand in to rub me against yourself!”

The elf giggled, “that’s true…” her hand reached in, her slender fingers manipulating his body lower, until he felt the soft and yielding opening, already wet and coating his body in another layer of her juices. “Let’s have a little more fun before we go out for the day,” Miriel moaned, her fingers easily sliding the increasingly willing human inside her.

She gasped, gripping the bedsheets on either side of herself as her tiny human wiggled his way inside of her, biting her lip to stifle a moan that would no doubt be heard by Christina downstairs. She crossed her legs slowly, tightening her “grip” on him and blocking his way out.

Betram felt himself slide deeper inside her, the wet insides of the elf’s womanhood threatening to drown him as he struggled to reach the more sensitive spots he’d discovered the night before. The soft walls contracted around him, squeezing the air from his lungs and filling his mouth with Miriel’s taste as his arms stretched out and rubbed against a particularly receptive stretch of the elf’s insides.

“By the moon!” Miriel gasped, feeling herself quake. Her back arced and her eyes fluttered as she involuntarily squeezed her tiny human lover, nearly pulverizing his tiny body with the force of her orgasm. With a huff she collapsed back to the pillow, smiling dreamily. I can certainly see why tiny humans were so popular at one time, she giggled to herself.

There was a knock at the attic floor, and a moment later Christina lifted the door, gazing up at the elf with a small smirk. Miriel’s face went red and she hugged the blankets up to her chest in embarrassment.

“Where’s Bertram?” Christina asked with a grin.

“He’s uh… sleeping over in my shoe over there,” Miriel lied.

“Hmm… must have been a tight fit,” Christina said with a wink. “There’s an inquisitor here to see you, which I have to say is exactly the type of attention I would think a fugitive elf would want to avoid.”

“We’re working together!” Miriel said eagerly.

“To do… what exactly?” Christina asked.

“W-Well, to catch the elf,” Miriel admitted, “but she doesn’t know I am the elf! So she’ll be a useful partner in finding the real shrinker!”

Christina just bit her lip a moment, “right… just remember, if anything should er… happen, I didn’t know you were the elf either, good luck!” She slammed the door shut.

Miriel suddenly squeaked, feeling the struggling between her legs. She quickly reached down to fish a completely soaked Bertram out of her panties, an embarrassed grin on her face.

“S-Sorry, Christina came in and-“

“Yes I know, she’s a total pervert,” Bertram scowled, “every time I would hide from the guards here she’d try to come “check on me” when I was uh… relieving myself.”

“Thinking about elves, right?” Miriel asked brightly, skipping her way over to the sink to rinse him off before heading downstairs.

…

Shelby nodded as Miriel descended the stairs of Christina’s shop, “Ah good, you’re up… we need to get on the move, the elf could be doing anything out there in the city, imagine somewhere within our very walls is a poor human man who has been shrunk and forced to pleasure a wicked elf!”

“I can’t even comprehend it,” Bertram said, fighting sarcasm as he poked his head out from Miriel’s pocket.

“Yeah, it’s um… horrifying,” Miriel said dreamily, adjusting her wig and hat unconsciously.

“Now, we didn’t see any trace of the elf at the barracks,” Shelby mused, “I’m trying to think, what else do elves like…”

“Flowers?” Miriel said without thinking.

Shelby’s head shot up, “yes… of course! They love floral smells and in a city like this, the elf would want something natural to remind her of her natural habitat.”

“Yeah,” Miriel said with a sigh, looking at the drab grey walls.

“You were made to hunt elves!” Shelby said excitedly, “it’s like you can guess what they’re thinking!” She grinned down at Bertram, “don’t worry, with the two of us on the case you’ll be back to full size in no time!”

Bertram fought the urge to roll his eyes, we’re never finding who really shrank me…

…

Nen and Bula lounged in the town’s market square, watching the various humans milling about and conducting business. The goblin only came up to just above the average human’s waist, but with Bula, a towering orc, at her side, she still was given a wide berth.

“So, we need to see a flower merchant?” Bula asked uncertainly, “is there… money in that?”

Nen chuckled, “there’s money in everything, elves are super into nature, they even enchant dirt to grow flowers bigger and fuller, and guess who’s got a barrel of that stuff?”

Bula grinned, “so even the flower peddlers are buying smuggled goods?”

Nen shrugged, “well obviously we don’t tell them it’s elven… we say it’s a secret goblin family recipe, something like that.”

The pair walked into the flower shop, “greetings!” Nen called, trying to force her way up to the counter. She scowled as Bula picked her up, setting her on it in a way that was absolutely humiliating. Still, she grinned and met the gaze of the flower shop owner, a middle aged woman who smiled, recognizing the pair.

“Ah, Nen, do you have any more of that goblin planting soil? It brings up plants like nothing I’ve ever seen!”

“Of course,” Nen laughed, “just got a new shipment from my family back home!”

The door to the shop opened, and the three of them turned to see a pair of women enter the shop, one clearly an imperial inquisitor by the dragonscale vest and the goggles, the other a young woman in a hat that seemed oddly familiar to Nen.

The elf! She realized, seeing through the disguise, what’s she doing here with an inquisitor? She suddenly had a bad feeling about the whole thing, and quickly shifted herself off the counter and closer to Bula as the women approached the counter. She gently grabbed the orcs hand, tugging her into a corner of the shop while the Florist was distracted by the newcomers.

“This is a nice shop you have here,” Shelby drawled as she leaned against the counter, “do you have any… elven flowers?”

The florist gulped, “w-well we do have Elven Moonpetals, but I promise you they came from this side of the border!”

“And they smell so lovely, just like the ones back home!” Miriel said, sniffing one of the pale blue flowers. She caught Shelby’s look and cleared her throat, “my home in the Human Empire of course, where they also grow!"

Shelby nodded, “my associate here speaks the truth, they do grow outside of the elven realm… but elves love them, and an elf wouldn’t be able to resist stopping to smell a grove… or a shop, of them.” Behind her Miriel took another whiff of the flowers, a pleasant smile on her face. She thoughtfully plucked one of the petals and then stuffed it down into her breast pocket where Betram was.

He coughed, the overwhelming smell of the flower petal instantly filling the pocket. It wasn’t bad of course, but at his size anything could overwhelm his senses easily. Miriel’s finger poked and prodded into him, rubbing the flower petal over his body and coating him with the scent.

“Quit it!” he hissed, causing Miriel to giggle as she pulled it away.

“Have there been any suspicious customers?” Shelby asked the Florist, “anyone trying to pay with elven coins?”

“What would an Elven coin look like?” the Florist asked.

“Here’s one!” Miriel offered helpfully, placing one from her wallet on the counter.

“Yes, they look just like this,” Shelby said. She blinked a moment, “say, where did you-“

“Actually yes, I have seen these coins before,” the Florist said.

Nen gulped and looked up at Bula, the two of them had traded with the woman before, using coins they’d picked up on the other side of the border…

“You said gold was gold!” Bula hissed.

“Look, just let me figure out a good cover story and-“ Bula grabbed the goblin, tucking her under her arm and storming out of the shop just as the Florist pointed at the two of them.

“The goblin, she’s used those coins before,” the Florist explained.

Shelby turned just in time to see the door swinging, and grinned, “come on!”

…

“They’re after us!” Nen squealed as Bula carried her roughly through the crowd.

“Use your magic or something!” Bula shouted, shoving a man out of the way.

Nen nodded, and began chanting, she felt around her for any other enchantments, anything that she could disrupt or use to her advantage. She grinned as she felt a series of illusion enchantments, strong ones too.

Someone’s doing something they don’t want the crowd to see? Let me see if pulling up that curtain will give me a chance to escape!

Her magic lanced out at the three disguised figures.

…

Tyrael felt the attack coming before she saw it, and with a cry she whirled around, raising a shield around herself and her apprentices. As an archmage disrupting the amateurish fireball was child’s play, but the burst of magic caused the illusion charms on herself and her two apprentices to fall, revealing them as a trio of robed Elven mages in the middle of the crowded human market square.

There was a pause as everyone stopped and all the sound died. Tyrael’s apprentices uncomfortably sidled up to her, almost hiding behind the older elven mage, who fought the urge to gulp as her mind raced.

“Uh…” She began, trying to think of what would reassure the humans. She quickly thought back to her brief captivity with Gustav’s army, some sixty years prior at this point, the soldiers had been rough angry humans, way worse than this lot… but even as a prisoner she’d gotten along with them. She grinned, “We come in peace!”

“She’s gonna cut everyone to pieces!” someone screamed. Panic erupted as people moved like a sea away from the fountain the trio of elves were in front of. Tyrael’s eyes went wide as multiple shopkeepers drew pistols and rifles from under their stands, the loud *click* of flintlocks being cocked echoing over the panicking crowd.

…

Shelby and Miriel fought against the fleeing tide of panicked people, “what in the name of the gods is going on,” Shelby shouted, drawing one of her pistols.

“Elves are attacking!” a baker screamed, running by with his arms full of bread.

Miriel’s eyes went wide, “uh… maybe it’s something else?”

“No way, this is it, what I’ve been dreaming of!” Shelby shouted with glee, waving for Miriel to follow her. “Oh wow,” she giggled as the crowd thinned closer to the town square, “what should I yell at the elven archmage? I am the flame and darkness fears me?”

“Well,” Miriel began, “we could try talking-“

“How about I run right into the middle of them, and then when they say I’m surrounded, I say I’m only surrounded by fear and dead elves?” Shelby said excitedly.

Bertram poked his head out of Miriel’s pocket, “what is going on?” he shouted angrily, “can you walk a little more evenly? I’m being jostled like a pair of dice in here!”

“Sorry,” Miriel muttered, “people are saying there are elves in the town square!”

Bertram’s eyes went wide, “what!? Why are more elves coming? You’ve been bad enough!”

“Hey!” Miriel squeaked indignantly. A red look came over her face as she licked her lips, “Okay so… maybe I wasn’t technically supposed to come here, and uh… well my sister is kind of an important person back in the Elven lands, a very powerful archmage actually…”

“And she’s come to drag you back?” Bertram said, “great, have her unshrink me and we can forget this whole thing ever happened.”

Another series of gunshots rang out, and a bolt of lightning flew down into the town square out of a clear blue sky. Miriel could feel the magic in the air, and bit her lip nervously.

“The situation might have escalated a little.”

…

The butcher shouted bloody murder as he charged Tyrael with a cleaver raised high. With a curse she fired off another shrinking spell, quickly reducing the man to doll size. She dove forward, snatching him out of the way as another of his companions stumbled forward, attempting to jam a small rod down the barrel of his pistol. There was a click as the new human leveled the gun down at her with a sneer, then a cry of panic as one of her apprentices shrank him next.

“I think that’s all of them,” the other elf said, helping Tyrael up.

“Good, what did you do with the other humans?” Tyrael asked. One of her apprentices gleefully showed her travel bag, and Tyrael looked in to see a small mob of shrunken humans struggling, shoulder to shoulder, packed like sardines into the travel bag.

“We’re captured!” one of them shouted.

“Steel hearts lads!” another screamed, looking up at Tyrael’s giant elven face with hate in his eyes, “no matter what tortures she dreams up, we’ll never break!”

Tyrael sighed and pulled the bag’s drawstring, sealing the tiny humans away. They complained angrily, and a few retched.

“What was in that bag?” Tyrael asked in a tired voice.

“Our dirty laundry mistress,” the elf said sheepishly, “I thought it would give a little padding for them!”

“So now we’re marinating a bunch of tiny humans in our dirty socks and underwear,” Tyrael said, rolling her eyes, “well… they say humans love the smell of elven sweat, that’s something, right?” Judging from the complaints coming from the bag that particular rumor was false. She breathed out slowly, “okay, we’ll dump the bag of humans in front of their mage’s barracks and run like wild horses, then resume our search for-“

“Release those captives at once!” a woman’s voice called angrily across the now deserted town square.

Tyrael turned to see a woman in obsidian black goggles and… Miriel!? Tyrael couldn’t help but smile as she saw her sister, alive and unhurt… but why was she wearing such a ridiculous wig and hat? She gave a comforting grin as she put her hands on her hips.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” she said, staring down Miriel.

“Oh you’ve been looking for me?” Shelby asked, mistaking herself for the target of the greeting, “stand back girl,” she pushed Miriel back slightly and drew her other pistol with a smirk, “I must admit I’m surprised to hear that an elven archmage has heard of me, now prepare yourself!”

Tyrael sighed and turned to her apprentices, “consider this a test girls, disarm the inquisitor but do not hurt her.”

The two apprentices nodded and stepped forward, grinning at the chance to humble another human. Each one muttered a spell, and there were some small sparks on the dragonscale vest, but otherwise Shelby just grinned as the shrinking spells were harmlessly absorbed. The inquisitor fired her pistols, and the two women lurched backwards, but there was a blue glow as they stopped the bullets in midair, steadying themselves.

“D-Did you see Mistress Tyrael? We did it!” one shouted excitedly.

“Good job girls, but she’s still-“ Tyrael started, then winced as Shelby roughly pistol whipped the first one of her apprentices. Well, they’ve got blocking bullets down, that’s something at least she thought with a sigh as Shelby roundhouse kicked the second elven mage, sending her sprawling the ground.

“Looks like it’s just you and me now,” Shelby grinned, advancing on the archmage.

“H-Hey,” Miriel said, running forward, “let’s just take a minute to talk this out!”

“Back Christina,” Shelby said, using the fake name Miriel had given her, “I know it is tempting, but few human mages can stand toe to toe with an elf on their own, I’ve been specially trained to-“

“That’s not a human mage,” Tyrael said in annoyance. She flicked her hand and a gust of wind took Miriel’s wig and hat off, revealing her blonde hair and pointed elven ears. Mirielle squeaked with fright and Shelby’s eyes went wide as she realized the truth.

“A-A disguise,” she said, whirling to face Miriel, “I should have known! It’s all so obvious now!” She threw her pistols down and pulled a knife, “Give me the human in your pocket now!”

Bertram popped up, waving, “Shelby stop! She didn’t shrink me, i-it just happened while I was trying to sneak her out of town!”

Shelby shook her head sadly, “it’s said that the elf’s womanhood can seduce and control the mind of any man, she’s taken your thoughts from you Bertram!”

“I-Is that true?” Miriel asked with a blush, behind Shelby Tyrael rolled her eyes and shook her head “no.”

Miriel was cut off as Shelby tackled her, and Bertram screamed as he was thrown bodily from her pocket, rolling out onto the massive cobblestones of the town square while the two titanic women wrestled overhead.

“I trusted you!” Shelby snarled, trying to plunge a knife into Miriel’s chest.

“W-Wait, I was having a good time!” Miriel whined, struggling to hold the knife away from herself, “w-we could be friends!”

“Ha!” Shelby laughed, “you were just waiting for me to take my vest off so you could shrink me!”

“Stop!” Bertram shouted, waving his arms, but the giant inquisitor ignored him.

Tyrael growled angrily as she saw the woman attack her sister, it was all she could do not to use her magic toss the inquisitor as high into the air as she could, but she hadn’t become an archmage by being hotheaded. She gathered her magic, preparing a shrinking spell strong enough to overwhelm even a dragonscale vest, a feat few elves were capable of but which she knew from experience was within her abilities.

The bolt of magic shimmered brightly enough to be seen even by the nonmagical beings present, and Shelby grimaced and quickly rolled, pulling Miriel on top of her.

“EEEE!” Miriel shrieked as the shrinking spell hit her back. She suddenly found herself laying across Shelby’s chest, as the pale inquisitor grinned and slowly plucked her up.

“It seems the tables are turned, elf!” Shelby chuckled, slowly sliding a struggling Miriel into her pocket and buttoning it shut.

Tyrael cursed under her breath, readying another spell as her apprentices slowly staggered to their feet and joined her, “give me my sister right-“ She was interrupted by the sound of marching feet, an entire platoon of human guards, in steel armor and with guns at the ready, were approaching through the streets.

“M-Mistress Tyrael, what should we do?” one of the apprentices asked hesitantly.

“We flee,” Tyrael said, her heart sinking as Shelby grinned at her smugly. The inquisitor patted the pocket where Miriel was held mockingly as Tyrael started casting a smokescreen spell to cover their escape.

Bertram looked up at the giant women in despair, realizing that at this size there was little he could do. He started to run for a side street when slender elven fingers closed around him.

“Oops, missed one,” Tyrael’s apprentice giggled, scooping him up as the trio of elves fled.

“Wait-“ Bertram started, but he was tossed through the air, screaming as he descended into the elf’s travel bag. His fall was broken by a soft pile of dirty elven laundry, and as the elves fled it was tossed about and he was quickly smothered by a musty pair of socks big enough to swallow him up.

Shelby drummed her fingers on the desk, giving a smug look to the tiny and shaking elf currently sitting atop one of her coasters. Evidently the elf’s magic shrank with her, or at least she hadn’t come up with a spell to get herself out of Shelby’s office yet.

“What’s the matter?” Shelby grinned, “don’t like being small elf?” she chuckled and reached down, gently flicking Miriel over with her finger and causing the elf to squeak indignantly.

“Shelby stop this!” Miriel cried, “look, I’m sorry I deceived you, but-“

Shelby slammed her fist on the table, “but nothing! You and your friends are here to continue the elven reign of terror, is another invasion imminent? You can’t win you know; we’ve got more cannons than last time, bigger, better, guns! You’ll-“

“We’re not invading!” Miriel shouted, forcing herself back to her feet, “I just came over here to… to make some friends, maybe see if this whole feud could be resolved?”

“It got resolved on the Field of Thunder sixty years ago,” Shelby growled, “and what a day that must have been for you?”

“I-I wasn’t born yet actually,” Miriel stammered, “but my sister was there, s-she said the captives were treated well?”

“Of course they were,” Shelby muttered, “we’re not elves after all…”

Miriel grinned and nodded, “yes, it actually really made my sister re-evaluate her ideas on humans, seeing your mighty army, and the mercy you showed-“

“Mighty army?” Shelby laughed, “Gustav’s army that defeated you was a shattered remnant, the man had just lost several important battles, his claim to the throne was being contested by everyone who could raise a flag.”

“A remnant!?” Miriel whispered, the way the battle was told in the Elven realms, the humans had mustered all of their forces for one grand climactic battle with the Elves.

“People heard you conquered the neighboring kingdom, those primitives that were still using swords and bows when you struck,” Shelby chuckled, “the Empire was tearing itself apart in civil war at the time, but even then, only a few people really thought about you… Gustav’s spies told him that your army shrank any humans it captured though… and that’s why he marched his army to the border to meet you.”

“He wanted to free his fellow humans,” Miriel said uncertainly, “a noble gesture-“

“No, he realized that you elves were sitting on a massive manpower reserve of tens, perhaps hundreds, of thousands, of shrunken humans,” Shelby explained, “after his treaty with the Elves he was given every human the elves had captured up until that point, restored to full size. He shoved a gun in the hands of every one of your former pets and marched them back to the Imperial heartlands where he butchered his cousins and regained his throne.”

Miriel blinked a minute, stunned, no, Gustav Elf-Killer was the greatest human of all, a towering colossus of combat that defeated us with his iron will… the way the elves told it, Gustav had been some unnatural human, cunning, clever, a fluke in an otherwise unremarkable species known as humanity. The way the humans told it though… he almost sounds… pathetic? Forced off his throne? Killing his own family? No, that’s not Gustav Elf-Killer! She swallowed, the humans must be remembering him wrong, they’re not so long lived after all.

“A-Are you sure your histories are accurate?” Miriel asked suddenly.

Shelby frowned, “I don’t know what it is to an elf, but Gustav is still a controversial figure even now long after his death.”

“B-But he saved your whole species from elven enslavement!” Miriel exclaimed, if Gustav wasn’t some great man… if his army really was just a remnant… she gulped, where does that leave us to the humans as a whole!?

“I suppose he saved this province from elven enslavement,” Shelby mused, “but to tell the truth elf, his dealings with your people rarely take up more than a few chapters in books about the man.”

A few chapters!? Miriel felt like she’d been punched in the gut.

“Enough history,” Shelby snapped, picking the elf up, “you and your friends are here shrinking humans, maybe you’re here to scout for an invasion, maybe you’re just out on a little hunting expedition, either way, it ends here!”

“I didn’t shrink anyone, I promise!” Miriel cried.

“I’ve already tasted several of the victims,” Shelby said with a grin, “I’ve got the flavor down, I’ll bet if I take a taste of you, it’ll be very familiar to me.”

Miriel frowned, “wait, you taste-“

“Yes, I can taste magic,” Shelby laughed, “and you know what elf?” she slowly picked up Miriel, “I’ve got a sort of secret fantasy.” She tugged on Miriel’s pants, and the elf fought to keep them on as they slid off.

“W-What fantasy!?” Miriel shrieked, gripping her shirt with all her might as Shelby pulled it off next. She whimpered, naked in the giant human inquisitors’ hands.

“We all know Elves ate humans once upon a time,” Shelby grinned, slowly lifting her obsidian black goggles over her eyes, revealing a pair of black orbs with yellow pupils that caused a terrified Miriel to gasp. “I think,” Shelby said, her voice going low as those unnatural black orbs gazed on the elf, “that if you’re a match… I’ll just swallow you!”

Miriel screamed as Shelby laughed, bringing the elf up to her ruby red lips. She opened her mouth, sliding her tongue out to meet the elf as Miriel was forced inside. She closed her mouth, grinning as the elf beat at the side of her cheek feebly, no doubt repeating the same journey no end of poor humans had at the elf’s own hands.

Yes, see how it feels elf! Shelby thought in triumph as she savored the flavor of the elf. It was good, her tongue tickled the elf’s skin, forcing her against the roof of her mouth as…

Shelby paused, the elf had a sweet flavor, almost like a warm summer wine… not at all like the earthier taste that had clung to the shrunken guard she’d tasted before. She frowned, poking the elf a bit more with her tongue and causing her to scream in fear, there was another flavor on Miriel, probably the elf that had tried to shrink Shelby, but… it wasn’t a match either.

Shelby’s eyes went wide, oh gods, the elf really is innocent… of this anyway. She sat a minute, listening to the elf crying and pleading from within her mouth. I could just swallow her anyway… She scowled angrily, no… it’s not right. With a growl she spat a spit-soaked Miriel into her palm.

“You didn’t shrink those humans,” Shelby admitted bitterly.

“I-I tried to tell you!” Miriel protested, shivering as Shelby reached down to drape a small handkerchief around her shoulders. She hugged it around herself, looking up at the inquisitor nervously, “w-what are you? What kind of thing tastes magic, and has eyes like that?”

Shelby reached up and pulled her obsidian goggles back into place, hiding the black sclerae and piercing yellow eyes again, “I’m human,” she snapped defensively, “and on the emperor’s own orders, nobody in the army is allowed to say anything else about my heritage! That goes double for an elven prisoner!”

“S-Sorry!” Miriel said, “it’s just that umm… humans can’t taste magic, or have eyes like-“

“I swear elf, if you imply I’m anything other than human again I’m going to place you on the floor and crush you into pulp! Understand?”

Miriel nodded, eyes wide, “r-right, you’re human, got it!”

“Now,” She growled, “fill me in on exactly what is going on?”

Miriel swallowed nervously, “well, my sister always said that humans weren’t really all that bad, that elves and humans might be able to get along someday, so I decided to go and kind of… try it myself?”

Shelby couldn’t help but laugh, “so I am to understand that you decided to cross a heavily militarized border because you wanted to attempt a peace mission, by yourself?”

“Well it sounds dumb when you put it like that!” Miriel said, a little offended as she hugged the handkerchief around herself.

…

The mob of tiny humans on the desk shouted angrily, their tiny voices a throng that filled the room of the house where Tyrael and her apprentices had hidden. The house’s owner, a middle-aged woman, had also been shrunk and placed with the others, another unfortunate necessity in a search mission that had increasingly gone off the rails.

“All right listen up!” Tyrael said, scowling over the dozens of shrunken victims, “everything is going to be fine; we’re going to return you to the other humans as soon as we can!”

“She’s lying!” one man shouted, a candle merchant with a wiry beard and a surprisingly handsome face, “she’s going to throw us all in her shoes or something!”

Tyrael rolled her eyes, “I’m not lying, I just want everyone to be calm and cooperate until we get this over with-“

“No, this is it, this is where the elves torture us!” the candle merchant insisted.

Tyrael scowled, “Look here, you all attacked us, so-“

“You were invading our town!” the butcher shouted, and the rest of the tiny humans nodded and shouted in agreement.

“As if I’d invade a town by myself!” Tyrael said in exasperation.

“Hey, we’re here too mistress!” one of her apprentices said, “we’d follow you to hell itself!”

She gave a small smile, “of course girls…” a pair of half trained mages who can’t take on a single human inquisitor between the two of them… Gods have mercy.

“I think this knife eared whore is just getting to the point where she makes us choose who gets eaten!” the butcher shouted.

Her apprentices scowled angrily, and moved forward, but Tyrael looked down at the tiny human and held up a hand. The crowd of shrunken people went quiet, and Tyrael slowly leaned down until her enormous face was just over the butcher.

“I want everyone to think about something,” she said slowly, “if I was an elf out to torture and enslave all of you, I’d probably not respond well to being called a knife-eared whore, now would I?” She gave a small smug smile at the butcher, who quaked under her gaze. “Answer?” she asked sweetly.

“I uh… suppose not,” the butcher stammered, fighting the twin urges to run and wet himself.

Tyrael reached a finger down to pat the human on his head, “luckily, I’m just here to find my sister, so instead of crunching you like a beetle under my boots, I’m going to have my apprentices bring some bread and dried fruits for you all until we figure out what our next step is. Does everyone like that plan?” The humans nodded, silently, and Tyrael beamed, “I’m glad we all had this talk.” With that she sighed, collapsing into the table’s chair as her apprentices went to the kitchen to carry out her orders.

“Hey!” one human shouted, parting from the others, “hey, Elf!”

Tyrael glanced down at the table, “yes?”

“Is your sister Miriel?”

Tyrael shot upright, her hand slamming the table on either side of the tiny human and causing him to stumble, “Yes! Have you seen her?”

Bertram nodded, “Yes, and we really need to talk.

…

Tyrael listened intently as Bertram explained how things had escalated over the few days since he’d met Miriel, how they’d fallen in with an oblivious inquisitor, and how he’d ended up here. At the end of it Tyrael was chuckling, holding Bertram in her hand and gently running a finger along his hair in a motion he wasn’t sure if he liked or not.

“So this Shelby woman has Miriel,” Tyrael mused, gently toying with Bertram as she thought. He shouted in surprise as his body was turned upside down by a casual roll of her middle finger, then flipped right side up again as her ring finger had its turn. Humans do make the best fidget toys, she thought with a smile, watching the human struggle to remain upright as she slowly twirled him in her hand. “The goblin you saw at the flower shop,” she continued, “that’s your real culprit… I’d wager my family’s entire estate on it.”

“Y-Yeah, that’s what I’ve been thinking too,” Bertram grunted as he rolled back down into her palm.

“Do you suppose if we brought this Goblin to the Imperials, they’d let Miriel and the rest of us go home?” Tyrael asked.

“Uh…” Bertram rolled out of the way of a grasping finger as the elf continued to casually toy with him. She smirked, seeming to enjoy his efforts, “yeah,” he managed, “if you really haven’t killed anyone, and gave yourselves up peacefully… they might toss you in jail for a few days until someone from the capital can come talk to you, maybe that Von Berger guy with the snake women, but I think you’d be released.”

“It might be the easiest way to resolve all of this without starting a war,” Tyrael sighed, “I’ve been in human captivity before, I can stomach another stint if it prevents bloodshed.” She glanced at her two apprentices, who were feeding the collected shrunken humans cake crumbs from the home’s pantry. It might even do those two some good… “You’ll vouch for my good intentions, I’m sure?” she asked Bertram.

“I’ll say whatever you want,” he replied, “but just so you know, my reputation with the law around here isn’t great, it might help you more to have me say nothing.”

“Interesting,” Tyrael said, raising an eyebrow, “now what exactly was the nature of your relationship with my sister? Has she enjoyed caring for a reduced human?”

Bertram fought a blush, “uh… yeah, she’s enjoyed it.”

Tyrael sighed contentedly, “good…” she giggled, “I wonder… would you like to come back with us? A human companion might be just what my sister needs, you seem a worldly type, she’s a decent spellcaster and smart enough, but just terribly naïve… and you know fifty-year-olds, always looking to spread their wings and see the world!”

Miriel’s fifty? He blinked and moved on, “I uh… don’t know if that would be a good idea Miss Tyrael,” he said.

“Yes, that blasted treaty does complicate things,” Tyrael sighed, missing Bertram’s reluctance, “we’ll have to come back to it… For now, do you know anyone who deals in stolen or smuggled goods? Someone who could lead us to this goblin?”

“I do,” Bertram said, sighing as he realized that whatever favors he owed Christina were about to get an order of magnitude worse.

“Right,” Tyrael said, standing up and gently slipping Bertram into her cleavage. She stood up and loomed over the tiny mob of humans on the table, “here’s my proposal humans, we will regrow you one at a time, you quietly go upstairs, and then wait for us to leave, you don’t come back down until you hear us leave. Does this work for all of you?” The humans muttered amongst themselves, but considering what most had expected from being shrunk by an elven mage, it was a remarkably good outcome.  

Bertram watched from his place in Tyrael’s cleavage as, one by one, the humans the elven trio had shrunk were restored to their full size, marching up the stairs of the house to wait until the elves left. It only took a few minutes to go through them all, until only a single one was left besides Bertram.

“Mistress,” one of the apprentices said, carrying the human up to Tyrael, “there’s something wrong with this human!” She held the candle maker up, the man dangling by one arm.

Tyrael gave her apprentice an annoyed look, “what could possibly-“

“This is when you’re going to shove me in a shoe, aren’t you?” he said a little too quickly, “probably because I was rallying the others! I’ll never kiss your elven feet! You can’t make me!”

“We’re not-“ Tyrael began.

“Or maybe you’ll crush my will by making me rub your feet after a long day of shrinking humans?” the candlemaker said, his voice cracking a little, “I’ll never break-“

“It’s just on and on like this Mistress,” the apprentice said, a little concerned, “I know you said they get more durable when they’re tiny, but I’m worried he hit his head or something.”

“I’m not going to give up and serve you, even if you make me paint your toenails and kiss each one afterwards!” the candlemaker continued.

Tyrael rubbed her chin a moment, then smirked, then giggled, then had to fight down a snort of laughter, “Okay… this human needs to learn his place, that of a pathetic human beneath elven feet!” The apprentices looked at each other, confused, while the candlemaker fought to keep excitement off his face.

“B-But mistress Tyrael, that seems to go against much of what you’ve said about humans!” one began as Tyrael slowly pulled off her boot.

Tyrael ignored her, looking at the dangling candlemaker, “would it break your will more to be put against my insole or in my sock?”

The candlemaker licked his lips, “My uh… will would obviously break if it was the insole mistress!”

Tyrael chuckled, grabbing the candlemaker from her apprentice, then dangling him over the mouth of her boot, “Now human, you will lick every drop of my sweat from that insole and contemplate your place as you rest beneath my toes!” she dropped him in, waving teasingly to him as he fell with a shout.

With a satisfied sigh Tyrael slowly slid her boot on, gently nudging the human into the toe and letting her socked foot slide over him. He was instantly coated in a thin layer of grime as she scrunched her toes over him playfully, making sure he was in a spot where the full weight of her steps wouldn’t be coming down on him. She took a moment to lace the boot back up, sealing the tiny human in his new prison.

“What was that!?” Bertram asked, a little stunned. Up until now Tyrael had seemed a lot like Miriel, a nice elf, or as nice as an elf could be.

“Oh relax,” she said dismissively, tapping Bertram’s head and forcing him a little lower into her cleavage, “I assure you that man is having the time of his life… as much as you may not want to admit it there is a certain type of human that loves being made an elf’s tiny plaything, or has my sister been unable to convince you?” Bertram’s embarrassed silence told her everything she needed to know about his own thoughts on the subject, and Tyrael smiled, “it doesn’t hurt anyone to… indulge in such desires now and then Bertram.” She scrunched her toes over her prisoner again, and she could swear the tiny human was trying to embrace them in the dark humid confines of her boot.

“Humans are certainly strange,” one of her apprentices muttered, looking down at Tyrael’s boot and chewing her lip.

“Aren’t they just delightful?” Tyrael said, “now then, Bertram, you said you had a criminal acquaintance that might know our Goblin?”

…

Christina walked to the back door when she heard the knock, sliding the viewslot open and expecting Miriel and Bertram. Bertram she certainly got, but her eyes went wide as she saw a trio of elves, one in a starry black robe holding him up to the slot to talk.

“Christina, let us in!” Bertram said eagerly, “we can’t be on the streets like this!”

Her eyes bulged, “No way! One elf was bad enough, how in the name of the gods did you end up with three?”

“Well, you remember that time I told you if you loaned me some money, I could pay you back triple in a few days?” he said sheepishly, “see, my system works!”

“Great, try it with gold next time and not knife-ears!” she hissed.

“Just open the door Christina, don’t make me ask the elves to blow it up again!”

Christina’s eyes narrowed, “No! You’ve got to give me something this time!”

He scowled and looked back at the elves, “Do you three have anything valuable?”

“We’ve got that other shrunken human,” one of the apprentices offered.

“Uh… what else?” Bertram asked, hoping Christina hadn’t heard.

…

Christina lounged behind her shop counter, Tyrael’s starry elven archmage robe draped over her form, “it’s quite soft,” she said smugly.

“Indeed,” Tyrael said with a scowl, itching the plain brown wool robe Christina had given her in “trade.”

“And I see Bert has found himself wedged between another pair of elven tits, comfy?” she asked with a smirk.

Bertram decided not to let her get to him, and he gave a flirty grin, “best seat in the house, now as much fun as it is serving as the tour guide for every elf that wants to visit Gustavsberg-“

“I’ve been here before actually,” Tyrael said helpfully, “back during the inv-“ she stopped, seeing Christina’s look, “that is to say, Bertram’s been very helpful.”

“He sure does seem to attract elves,” Christina said, leveling her gaze at him, “now, why did you drag these three here? If they’re hoping to hide out here too there’s only the one bed up in the attic and I’m not sharing mine.”

“We’re looking for a goblin, one who knows how to use magic,” Bertram explained, “Miriel and the inquisitor were trying to question her when everything in the town square went wrong.”

The front door to the shop barged open, causing all of them to jump, “We’re closed!” Christina shouted, scurrying for the pistol she kept behind the counter.

“Call this a social visit then,” Shelby said, strutting into the shop with a tiny Miriel in her front pocket, “after you regrew your prisoners, they all walked to the nearest guard station and told us everything, and I’ve been having a chat with this little lady as well…” she gently tapped the top of Miriel’s head. “I’m willing to entertain the possibility that you all are not here for sinister purposes.” She smiled, “I do believe I heard something about a goblin?”

“Bertram seems to believe one is responsible for shrinking him, as well as your guards,” Tyrael said, giving Shelby a wary look, “if true, this greenskin has caused quite an incident between our peoples.”

“Agreed,” Shelby barked, “but before we pursue the goblin hypothesis, I need to confirm all three of you are innocent.”

“And how would you do that?” Tyrael asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m going to need to taste you all,” Shelby said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

There was silence in the room a moment before Tyrael spoke, “I’m sorry, what!?”

…

Shelby sucked on the second apprentices finger a moment, the pulled away, smacking her lips. She paused a moment, then grinned.

“You’re all good,” Shelby said, “four innocent elves, gods what an unlikely occurrence…”

“I told you!” Miriel said, hugging Bertram close and planting a quick peck on his cheek. The two of them had been restored to full size, Miriel easily enough, Bertram with some work, but between the four elves they’d managed to “pry the knot undone” as they’d said, and force the curse off of him.

“Feel good to be big again?” Christina asked, watching the elf practically drape herself over the thief.

“Being small had its moments,” Bertram admitted as Miriel giggled, “but… yeah, it’s good to be back.”

“So, about this Goblin,” Tyrael asked, “you’ve had dealings with her?”

“I think you’re talking about Nen, a chubby little goblin who knows a few spells,” Christina said, “she always has stuff that she says is from the Goblin clans, but it’s a sort of open secret among us merchants that she’s getting it from the Elven side of the border.”

“A smuggler,” Tyrael sighed, “I wonder what her goal is? Tighter security on the border would certainly increase the price of her goods…”

“She could just be covering her own tracks,” Shelby said, “since this whole elf hunt has started, we haven’t spent much time on anything else, I’m sure she’s driving her wagons around without any guards so much as inspecting them.”

“Can you find this Goblin?” Miriel asked.

“I guess I could call a meeting with her,” Christina said, crossing her arms, “but we’d have to have something she wants, her stuff’s expensive and I don’t buy a lot of it, she’ll be suspicious if I just send for her, especially with everything that’s happened.”

“She smuggles things to the elven side of the border too, right?” Bertram asked, “maybe you have something that sells for a lot over there?”

Tyrael sighed angrily, “the biggest illicit good in demand in Elven cities from here is… well,” she chewed her lip, thinking of how to explain it to the humans present.

“Shrunken people,” Shelby said with a smirk, “yes, we know, although I doubt even a smuggler like this goblin would be foolish enough to engage in such a trade.”

“What if there was a special order?” Bertram asked, “a customer offering so much she couldn’t refuse?”

“Yeah,” Christina muttered, rubbing her chin, “I could contact her and say I’ve got an elf wanting a tiny human, and I just need to get him over the border, big money for both of us…”

“So all we’d need is merchandise…” Shelby muttered, grinning as she looked at Bertram.

His eyes went wide, “Wait, come on, what about that guy in Tyrael’s boot-“

“Excuse me, what?” Shelby asked, looking to the elf angrily.

Tyrael went white and tried to think of an explanation that wouldn’t set the inquisitor off, “It was a mutual… cultural exchange?”

“Trust me the guy will be angrier at you for pulling him out of there,” Bertram confirmed with a sigh.

Shelby was quiet a minute, “I’ll confirm that later…” she scowled and muttered something under her breath but all Bertram could make out was “degenerates.”

“I really think you should be our bait Bertram,” Miriel said with a wink, “you’re a brave human, and a handsome one, it makes sense that you’d be exactly what an elf wants in a pet.” His face went a little red as he felt Miriel’s slide an arm around him.

Gods be damned if I’m not enchanted, “Fine,” he said, “I’ll do it, but I want to be big again as soon as it’s over, understand!”

“Of course,” Miriel said.

“Right,” Shelby said with a nod, “let’s begin working on the sting then…”

Miriel slowly pulled Bertram’s arm, and he followed her away from the rest of the group with a quiet frown, “What?” he asked quietly as they entered the stairwell.

“Let Tyrael and the Inquisitor worry about the plan,” Miriel giggled, “we’ll rejoin them later.”

A slow grin spread across Bertram’s face as Miriel continued to lead him upstairs, “and what did you want to do to pass the time?”

She smirked and walked her fingers up his cheat, “I wanted to see if humans are as fun to play with at full size as they are tiny…”

“No shrinking spells?” he joked.

Miriel winked, “not unless you ask.”

He stared at her round bottom as she climbed the small stepladder to the attic, we’ll have to see how much time we have…

Miriel giggled as she gripped a struggling Bertram with her toes, “What’s that I feel poking my sole?” she inquired, gently squeezing him and causing him to grunt, “hard again? Humans truly are insatiable!”

“Grow me back!” he shouted, eagerly looking up the bed at the naked elf, now a massive colossus stretching over the field that was the bed. She had a slight sheen of sweat on her brow, and her elven blonde hair was mussed, the tips sticking together slightly in darkened points. After the first two rounds in the bed with her, he’d given in and asked her to make him tiny, something she’d eagerly done.

Now he was pinched between a pair of elven toes the size of his torso, subject to the giggling grin of his elven lover while she casually played with him. Her feet were as soft as a fine robe, the skin causing him to gasp as his erection made contact with her soles as she manipulated him easily back and forth, casually toying with him. Her feet had a floral lilac scent, and he wondered if she just naturally smelled like that, or if it was the remains of whatever soap or perfume she’d last used.

“Seriously Miriel, grow me back, let’s go again!” in response she casually separated her toes, letting him fall to the bed. Her soft elven sole moved to pin him against the sheets, a silk cloud smothering him in the scent of lilacs as she sighed.

“I think I’m spent,” she giggled, her fingers slowly tracing through the patch of blonde hair just above her womanhood, “but that’s no reason to leave my little human pet without relief…”

Bertram gasped as the soft skin on the bottom of her foot slowly moved against him, stimulating him as her toes held his head in place like a floral scented vice. She was just slowly scrunching her foot back and forth over him, but from his perspective it was like a powerful lover forcefully grinding against him, pinning him down like a bug and forcefully pleasuring him.

“Miriel!” he gasped, pushing at her toes with all his might. They didn’t even budge of course, he couldn’t be more than three or four inches tall, her foot stretched over him like a blanket, the slow meticulous movement of her scrunching sole easily driving him towards climax.

“Oh stop squirming,” she giggled, “ravaging an elf’s foot, or rather being ravaged by an elf’s foot, is a core part of the human experience when our species meet.” She grinned as his eyes rolled back and his hips started involuntarily moving against her sole as she kept going. “I can see the fun in this, I’m just giving my foot the slightest little movement, barely doing anything at all, and look at you! You’re wiggling around like a worm, going nuts!” She sighed, leaning back on the pillow, “it really does make me feel powerful… in charge, you know?”

Bertram could really only moan in response as her foot continued it’s slow demolition of his conscious thought, dissolving them into pure pleasure as the elf casually rubbed her soft sole back and forth over him. Miriel closed her eyes, smiling as she felt her tiny human pet gasp and struggle one final time, just the barest hint of something wet squirting against the sole of her foot as she mercilessly continued her slow methodical scrunching, back and forth, back and forth, each little movement of her foot caused another squeak of pleasure and another bucking of Bertram’s hips against the sole of her foot as his orgasm was extended beneath the elf’s feet. After several minutes of this he was crying for mercy, and finally Miriel stopped, her toes separating and releasing his body as he lay there, covered in his own seed and still smelling the lilac scented skin of the elf’s foot as its essence clung to his face.

“Another nice thing about making you humans finish when you’re small is there isn’t much cleanup,” Miriel giggled, running a single finger along her sole and easily scooping off the tiny droplets. She stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking briefly, before looking down to him. “What do you say to another bath in the sink before we rejoin the others? You could use it, and if your little soldier salutes again, I can put him at ease… what do you say?”

“Uh huh,” Bertram nodded, still panting as the giant elf’s fingers scooped below his back, cradling him in her hand as she walked to the room’s sink. Elves, he thought, are very dangerous… and not just because of the magic.

…

“So it’s agreed then,” Shelby said with a nod, “I’ll have the guards waiting in the building across the street, Christina you will lure this Goblin in, and you elves will block her magic and restrain her for the arrest.”

“Four elves should be overkill for a goblin mage,” Tyrael nodded, “but I must ask… once your guards flood the room and take everyone into custody, what happens to us elves then?”

Shelby sighed, “you must understand, as an agent of your own government, I can’t just let you go…” Tyrael nodded and Shelby continued, “I’m certain that someone from the capital will want to speak to you, but I will advocate for your release at every opportunity… until then, you’ll remain under house arrest at my home, I have several spare rooms I don’t use anyway, it should be quite comfortable.”

“If there is one thing we elves have, it’s time,” Tyrael said with a nod. She smiled, “I suppose we’ll be your houseguests, honestly it sounds like a welcome reprieve from the viper’s nest of politics waiting for me back home.”

“Are things really so bad there?” Shelby asked, curious.

Tyrael rubbed her temples, “Let’s just say that the question of how we elves should relate to the rest of the world, humans in particular, is a heated topic of debate, one I expect to be resolved through violence at some point…”

Shelby was quiet a moment, “you could appeal to the Imperial army for help, I’m sure they would-“

Tyrael laughed, “Shelby my dear, I like humans, but I don’t see a legion of your musketmen putting my preferred candidate on the Elven throne as a positive outcome… whatever decisions the elves are going to make, we’ll make them on our own.”

Shelby nodded, “respectable… I’ll go gather the guards.” The inquisitor turned to leave.

“I suppose I should go track down our Goblin, or at least one of her minions,” Christina muttered, “I’m warning you, she has a surprising number of thugs that owe her favors, once this goes off, I’m hiding until it’s over.” She followed Shelby out the door, then paused, “you elves better not mess up this store! It’s all I’ve got, and I know exactly how much of everything there is on those shelves, so don’t eat or take anything unless you’re going to pay for it!”

“We’ll try to contain our appetites,” Tyrael said in an amused tone. She felt a squirming beneath her toes as Christina left, and with a grin she leaned down to unlace her boot.

“Are you going to let the human out mistress?” one of her apprentices asked eagerly.

“That’s up to him,” Tyrael said, laying her boot sideways on the table while her apprentices looked over her shoulders eagerly.

The tiny candlemaker slowly crawled out on all fours, a dazed and flushed look on his face. Tyrael couldn’t help but notice the man’s pants were missing, and she chuckled, realizing now what the flurry of movement when he’d been first dropped in had been about. He cleared his throat and stood up, looking up at the three elven giants with a forced scowl.

“As you can see elf, I am still ready to defy you, even if you throw me in your shoe for-“

“You’re right,” Tyrael said with a sigh, “clearly you are too strong willed, I’m going to release you and vow to never put another human in my sweaty boots while I walk around ever again, and neither will either of my apprentices. I’ll even cast an enchantment on you to protect you from shrinking spells so no other elf will ever be able to shrink you again.”

The man’s eyes went wide in horror, “N-Now just so you are aware, I’m privy to many important military secrets,” he stammered in an obvious lie, “and now you’ll never get them-“

“What’s your name?” Tyrael asked, cutting him off.

“A-Arthur Mistress,” he replied.

“Well Arthur, I’m growing tired of the charade, if you want us to continue playing with you, you’ll have to ask… politely.” Tyrael grinned at the human’s discomfort, and behind her the pair of apprentices giggled, waiting for the human’s answer.

He was quiet a moment, his face red, “W-Would you please continue to…” he swallowed, “play with me?”

“What do you think girls?” she asked, glancing back at her apprentices with a smirk, “should we keep him?”

“Oh, can we please Mistress Tyrael?” one asked eagerly.

Tyrael regarded the stunned human, “Do you have any wives, children, lovers?”

“None of that,” the candlemaker, Arthur, breathed, struggling to grasp the conversation going on in front of him.

Tyrael thought a moment, she’d offered to keep him in jest, but his apparent enthusiasm was making the idea tempting…

“What about your shop?” she asked, “you wouldn’t miss it?”

“Spending the last hour in your boot was more enjoyment than I’ve gotten in seven years of running that shop,” he said, falling to his knees, “gods I’m a deviant, I know, but I’ve fantasized about this for… for too long Mistress! I want to be your pet, I want to serve you and be played with by you and-“

“Slow down!” Tyrael laughed, “My apprentices and I study and work out of an isolated observatory in the countryside… we could probably keep a single human hidden, you wouldn’t even need to be small all the time…”

“Aw, but Mistress he’s so fun like this!” one of the apprentices said, plucking him up off the table. She giggled and poked at him, knocking him over into her soft palm.

“I’m sure he agrees,” Tyrael laughed, “but no, if Arthur here comes back with us, he’s spending at least one day a week at his full size… to keep things in perspective… if he wants to come back that is.”

Arthur felt his throat go dry as he thought it over, going to live with them… there isn’t much here to hold me back. His face went red, he’d had embarrassing and shameful fantasies about the elves ever since he’d spent entirely too much time reading about what they would do with their tiny prisoners. A sick part of him had always envied them, a thought he knew was wrong on a dozen levels but couldn’t shake.

“If I don’t like it… could I leave?”

Tyrael shrugged, “it’s going to be a nightmare taking you over the border, particularly after all of this, and it would be a nightmare to go back, but… I’ll do my best to bring you home if you don’t enjoy your time with us.”

“I think he will though,” one of the apprentices said, covering her mouth with a giggle as she watched the reaction the human was having below the waistline.

“I’ll do it!” Arthur said eagerly, “I’ll go back with you! D-Do I have to call you mistress or-“

“It sounds fun, doesn’t it?” Tyrael laughed, “for now just… enjoy the journey,” she reached for him, curling her fingers around him as she brought him up to her face with a grin, “I’ll have to sneak you back with me somewhere… concealed.”

“Y-Your boot again?” he asked weakly, suddenly very aware that he was naked below the belt, his manhood poking between the elf’s fingers.

“Maybe,” Tyrael said with a grin as her apprentices giggled behind her, “we’ll think on it… I’m sure the two of us can brainstorm ideas until it’s time to depart.” She glanced back at the other two elves, “it seems that I have a new reward to bestow upon apprentices who earn my favor… work hard on your spells and studies and you can have some time with my new human here.”

The way the two apprentices leaned in and smiled at him made Arthur just about faint with joy.

…

“So let me see if I understand this,” Nen said, leaning across the tavern table where she’d met Christina, “you’re suggesting you have an elf looking to buy…”

“A shrunken human, yes,” Christina said, “I’ve got a young man who matches the order tied up at my shop… I just need someone to shrink him and bring him to the buyer.”

“Oof,” Nen said as Bula shook her head beside her, “shrinking humans and selling them to elves, that’s a dodgy trade, even for girls like us! I’m kind of surprised you got into it Christina!”

“Well what can I say,” Christina said with a shrug, “I need the gold, and by the way there is a lot of gold in it, we’re talking over a hundred thousand thalers worth…”

Nen’s eyes bulged, “well hells below, I should have gotten into moving humies a long time ago! Elves will pay that much to play with a tiny one?”

“Maybe we should give it a try sometime,” Bula chuckled.

“We split the payout fifty fifty,” Christina said.

“Of course,” Nen said, smiling. From the grin alone Christina could tell that if this were a real deal, she’d never see her half of the buyer’s money.

“It’s agreed then, come to my shop and shrink the human, then get him over the elven border,” Christina said, getting up.

“Give us an hour or so, we’ll be over there,” Nen said, beaming. Christina nodded and got up to leave.

Bula leaned over to her goblin partner as the human left, “if there’s really a hundred thousand thalers in this… I say we take the merch to the buyer and just go someplace else, this whole elven border thing is getting too risky for my taste.”

“I’m thinking you’re right,” Nen muttered, “it’s too hot here, this is our last one in this province.”

“Where are we going next?” Bula asked curiously.

“Baldania maybe,” Nen said, “that new king Alfred or Albert or something, they say he’s really spruced the place up, people actually have money to buy stuff there now, illegal stuff even, and with the imperial border right there… well, I’m sure we could set up a new smuggling ring easily enough. Nen and Bula, duty free imports!”

Bula chuckled, “sounds good to me… what about Christina?”

“What about her?” Nen asked, “you think we should rub her out while we’re there?”

Bula shrugged, “might be good not to have anyone know where we went…”

Nen grinned, “I’ll see about finding some cutthroats, a few of the nastier sorts in this tavern do owe me some favors…”

…

“Do I have to have a bag on my head?” Bertram asked. He was tied and bound, sitting in the middle of Christina’s store while she and the elves tightened the knots.

“She might recognize you otherwise,” Christina said, “if she was the one who shrank you before that is…”

“You’re supposed to be a human enslaved, ready to be shrunk and sold to a presumably cruel Elven owner,” Tyrael said, “try to sob or something.”

“Oh, Bertram’s not afraid of being shrunk by elves anymore,” Miriel giggled, planting a quick kiss on his forehead through the burlap bag they’d thrown over his head.

“Well, he’d better act like it anyway,” Christina growled. She paused a moment, “didn’t you elves have another human-“

“We regrew him and let him go,” Tyrael said smoothly. Her apprentices shared looks and a knowing giggle, and Christina raised an eyebrow as Tyrael patted the seat of her pants, as though fixing something, or someone, in place…

Whatever, I’ll let Shelby deal with that, Christina thought with a sigh, better some candlemaker than me.

There was a knock on the door, and they all went quiet. Christina nodded at the four elves, and they disappeared into the back storage room as she stood up and sighed. She quickly checked the holdout pistol up her sleeve, a tiny little thing that wouldn’t stop most men, and certainly not an orc, but maybe would be enough if a goblin started acting dangerous.

Calm down, she told herself, you’ve got four elven mages in the back room, and a dozen guards across the street… you can do this.

She opened the door, and Nen walked in with Bula right behind her as usual. The tiny goblin sniffed dismissively as she walked in, and Christina’s heart sunk as a trio of rough looking men followed her, each with knives and pistols on their belts.

Oh gods, she’s actually going to try it, she realized, she hadn’t thought Nen had it in her to outright kill a witness like this, but the smile the goblin gave her had no warmth in it.

“So this is the human your customer wanted?” she asked, gesturing to the tied and covered Bertram.

“Let me go, please, I can’t go back to those elves!” Bertram said in a fairly convincing panicked tone.

“So he’s an escaped one?” Nen chuckled, holding up her hands to prepare the shrinking spell, “that’s funny…”

“So have you shrunk any humans before?” Christina asked nervously as the goblin approached Bert.

“Oh yeah,” Nen laughed, she muttered a few words, then Bertram yelped in surprise as he shot down to a tiny, and increasingly familiar, size. He felt the floor shake slightly as the now massive goblin approached, and he tensed as he felt pudgy fingers wrap around him, lifting him up. He panicked slightly, he hadn’t expected Christina to actually let the goblin touch him, but as the hood was pulled off his head he could see why, a pair of rough looking men had her by each arm, and her eyes were wide with panic.

“Hmm… a cute human,” Nen mused, rotating him in her hand, “Now-“ she paused, squinting her eyes, “wait a minute…” her expression went sour, “I know you, you’re the human from the alley!” her pointed green ears twitched furiously, “what’s going on here!?”

“You’re putting down my human!” Miriel shouted, bursting from the back room with the other three elves behind her, fireballs in hand.

Nen gulped nervously, then forced a smile, “Boys, bury these knife ears!” Bertram’s world became a mass of soft green flesh as the goblin tucked him down into her open top, the enormous jiggling green breasts instantly swallowed him up as he squirmed feebly. He fought for breath, and a wild part of him wondered if he was going to die smothered in goblin titflesh.

There are worse ways to die, a wild part of him thought as her movements jostled him about. He blinked in the dark confines of the goblin’s cleavage, and wondered if all of this shrinking business was driving him a little mad. Get the ropes off, he thought, working on the knots with his delicate thief’s fingers, worry about your sanity later.

Gunshots rang out as the thugs tried to kill the elves, but Tyrael’s apprentices manifested blue shields, easily stopping the bullets in air. This time instead of lurching backwards they managed to stop them several feet from their bodies, and Tyrael couldn’t help but grin at their improvement.

Miriel shouted a battle cry, casting a lightning bolt that knocked Bula the orc back against the wall, cracking the window. She stood up with a grin, drawing a large axe from behind her back.

“Orcs are pretty resistant to that elemental magic you elves are so fond of,” Bula growled, “you’ll have to do a bit better than that-“

Miriel reached out with tendrils of air, whipping the axe from the orcs grip and causing the flat side to fly through the air, smacking her roughly. The green woman crumpled to the ground with a groan.

Nen scowled and summoned up her own magic, ready to put the small elf in her place, when Tyrael suddenly loomed over her. Nen’s ears drooped as she felt the raw magical energy emanating from the archmage, she’d have gladly taken on any of the other three elves present, but this one was on another level.

Let’s see you throw a fireball through this! She thought angrily, pulling Bertram from her cleavage and holding him up. As she’d expected Tyrael paused, the lightning in her hands dimming slightly. Nen grinned and threw her own fireball, causing Tyrael to stumble back with a grunt as she absorbed the goblin’s spell.

The door behind them burst open, and Shelby strode into the room with two raise pistols, a dozen human guards with guns behind her, “Hands in the air, now!” the inquisitor shouted.

Nen’s heart sank as she saw Bula and her hirelings throwing their hands up, not me, she decided. She dove, sliding under the elf’s legs, stumbling to her feet and sprinting for the back door of the shop. Christina flourished her wrist, and a second later a tiny pistol was in her hand, but Nen dove for it, prying it from the screaming shopkeeper’s hand as she reached the back storeroom.

Sorry Bula, she thought, but it’s every greenskin for herself!

Miriel ran after her, the pair stumbled out into the alley as Miriel manged to tackle the goblin, “give me Bertram right now!” she screamed, forgoing magic and slapping the goblin across the face as hard as she could.

For Nen’s part, she hadn’t forgotten her spells, and with an angry howl she blasted Miriel off herself with a bolt of green energy. She stumbled up, rubbing her cheek as the elf took a battle stance.

“Let me go or I’ll end you, I mean it!” Nen shouted.

“Give it up, you’ll never beat an elf!” Miriel shouted, a trio of blue orbs rotating around her as she prepared her next spell.

Nen chuckled, now this elf she was confident against, she was strong sure, but inexperienced, then again, why fight fair if I can just use the human again?

“Get out of here elf, or I’ll crush your little friend between my tits!” she looked down and pressed a hand to either side of her impressive breasts, preparing to pulp the trapped human, when she frowned. “Wait, where’s-“

There was a click, and she looked to her left, down on the ground. Her eyes went wide as she saw the three-inch Bertram, aiming the holdout pistil like a cannon up at her, hugging the trigger with his entire body. There was a *pop* and a puff of smoke, then Nen shouted in pain as she stumbled backwards, clutching her side. The impact knocked the tiny gun backwards, bowling over Bertram and throwing him to the dirt with a grunt.

“Ha!” Miriel cried in triumph, sending tendrils of energy out to wrap the goblin, pinning her to the wall just as Shelby and her guards ran out into the alley. She flicked her wrist, leaving the energy in place as the guards approached the wounded goblin with manacles and chains. With a smile she walked over to Bertram, who was getting to his feet with a grin.

“I may not know anything about spellcraft, but I found something almost as good,” he said, kicking the holdout pistol lightly. The tiny gun was almost as big as he was, and his arms ached from the exertion of lifting and firing it.

“How did you get that?” Miriel asked with a laugh.

“She dropped me and the gun when you tackled her,” Bertram said, “can you restore me now? I’ve had enough of being tiny for one day.”

A mischievous grin stretched across Miriel’s features, “oh I’m just pooped though, no magic left!”

Bertram sighed, “it wasn’t even that long of a duel, go get your sister then!”

“No no,” Miriel said, bending down and picking him up, “it wouldn’t be right to bother her after such a strenuous fight.” She slowly slipped Bertram into her own cleavage and grinned, “far more comfortable than the goblin, no?”

“Please,” Nen coughed as the guards held a bandage to the small gunshot wound, “you can barely keep him warm with those mosquito bites elf!”

Miriel shot an angry glance at her, “I want to snuggle my tiny human, not smother him you cow!”

“Leave them alone goblin,” Shelby chided, “someone as small as you should perhaps be more worried about who her cellmate is going to be!”

“Please, I’ll be running your jail in a week!” Nen shouted angrily, “where’s Bula, is she okay?”

“You ran!” the orc said angrily as the guards led her and the other thugs out, “what happened to thick as thieves?”

“All the thick thieves are in jail,” Bertram laughed, letting himself sink deeper between the elven breasts. He disappeared into her cleavage, as weariness from the days events overtook him, and soon he was hidden from sight, becoming entrapped in a different kind of prison, one that was soft, warm, and lilac scented.

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.