Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Here is the area as it stands with the terens at the beginning of what became known as the High Age. The elves's country is called Luminos and the dwarves' main stronghold is in Vinduli. The orcs, having been fully defeated by the terens, have been exiled to the east. 

The terens have striated their hierarchy into a series of Lesser Princes with an Archprince that rules the kingdom. The archprince is elected by the six lesser princes. Each lesser prince deals with a sect of teren society and they're not considered equal in stature even though they're equal in authority. 

Terens do not age, they do not require food or drink, but they are otherwise mortal meaning they can be killed by normal means. Their origin is the Divine Lake and when they've reached a certain age, they make their pilgrimage (as they call it) back to the Divine Lake. When they descend into the waters, at least two more terens are generated, if not more. This generation allows their numbers to quickly increase as long as pilgrimages are being made. This is the only way for terens to reproduce. The standard time established for a teren to remain in the land is 100 years, but terens can make their own determination depending on circumstances and laws established by the archprince and lesser prince of pilgrimage. 

This work will attempt to catalogue the numerous stories and developments that occurred during what became known as the High Age by the terens. It lasted for thousands of years. 

Chapter Text

Adrian was breathing rather heavily despite the otherwise normalcy of the situation, namely, changing clothes. He was in an anteroom off of the council chamber where the lesser princes periodically gathered with the archprince to discuss various matters of state. It's also where the lesser princes chose the first new archprince in a century. And Adrian was their choice by a vote of 5-1 (he had not voted for himself). 

Archprince Thomas, who famously led the terens to final victory over the orcs in the teren wars, was unanimously pronounced King by his generals but had refused the title given what had happened to the last terens who had proclaimed themselves kings. Instead he chose the title archprince, the first among equals, as he called it. The archprince's seat was in the capital and he was ultimately in charge of the kingdom. The terens persisted in calling their state a kingdom despite Thomas' more humble title. There were then lesser princes who governed various aspects of teren life in the kingdom and their own castles of varying size and strength were scattered throughout the kingdom in locations that were suitable for their role. 

The Lesser Prince of the Mines reigned in the north and oversaw the captured mines of the dwarves that had once been full of teren slaves. Terens still worked the mines but now as paid laborers and under teren control. The mines were the richest in all the land and provided invaluable wealth to the kingdom. Their loss, along with the loss of teren slaves, had decimated the economy of Vinduli, the dwarf lands to the south. The color of this prince was violet which was a color associated with wealth and riches. 

The Lesser Prince of Defense controlled a powerful fortress to the south of the capital and close to the eastern river beyond which the orcs had been banished. The orcs were the mortal enemy of the terens and this prince's main job was to keep the kingdom safe from all threats. He was chief of the armed forces unless the archprince decided to take personal control. His color was black. 

The Lesser Princes of the Elves and Dwarves had lavish palaces relatively close to the primary trade routes with both races which dwelt to the south and west of the kingdom. They were the ambassadors to those races and maintained trade agreements and relations with them. The elves and dwarves were not allowed to speak to the archprince directly. They had to go through their respective lesser prince which was a way the terens used to keep themselves superior. Their colors are blue and red, respectively. 

The Lesser Prince of the Fields, wearing appropriately green, lived in the most modest castle situated in the lush fields and flatlands west of Crystal Lake. The terens didn't require food or water to survive and so their produce was fully for export. His primary job was to keep the fields in production and control the supply going to Luminos and Vinduli who depended on the terens for a lot of their food, once again giving the terens healthy control of the area. He also determined prices. 

The Lesser Prince of Pilgrimage had the most sacred duty of them all. His lavish palace, situated on the edge of the Sacred Forest, kept track of the terens who returned to the Divine Lake when they felt their "call" and received the newly emerged terens and directed them to the parts of the kingdom that needed them. Emerged terens had recollected thoughts and skills from whoever returned and thus caused their generation. So in many cases they were almost like descendants of those that returned, but not in a traditional way. The color of this prince is gold. 

Adrian stood shirtless in front of the mirror in the anteroom, having shed the black tunic of his former office. He appeared about 16 years old despite having emerged over 100 years ago. He'd fought in the teren wars, having emerged during the time of the four kings. He was very sturdy in appearance. Tall, with fair blond hair that was cut short and simple. His face was weathered from years in the field with soldiers and he had a sharp jawline. He was a teren that commanded respect just by his appearance and confidence. 

As he stood looking at his smooth, well-defined muscles which he got from all of his training, his mind began to wander. He'd never wanted this position. He didn't want the last one. Thomas had chosen him as the first lesser prince of defense because of his leadership in the teren victory and his aggressive nature which was needed to solidify the kingdom's new borders. In that role, Adrian had been very active, always drilling with the soldiers and honing tactics to fight the various other races in the world should they need to. 

He was brought back to reality by the appearance behind him of one of his pages, Daniel. Daniel was quite small by comparison and thin. He held a solid white tunic, the color of the archprince which represented the purity of the office. Adrian sighed as Daniel helped dress the new archprince. The tunic was white silk and embroidered beautifully. The terens were quite skilled at their work. It zipped in the back and as Daniel was assisting Adrian he broke the silence. 

"Will you be taking us with you to your new residence?" he asked, inquiring on behalf of Adrian's household which included another five pages. 

"Oh I think so," Adrian said, looking at himself in the mirror. "There must be some benefit to being a page since you're not paid," he smirked. Daniel smiled warmly. The teren nobility had slowly adopted the practice of bringing pages into their service who acted as servants and in exchange simply had no expenses or burdens. They lived with the noble and were treated like family. 

"Being a page to a lesser prince is a high honor," Daniel said, stepping back and looking at him. "And to be a page to the archprince, well, that's the highest honor of all."

"If you say so," Adrian said. The white tunic was long-sleeved and Adrian's bare hands went to his sides as he sighed again. He wore simple britches and leather boots. The former archprince had a softer look but Adrian was his own man, so to speak. 

He turned, nodded to Daniel, who nodded back, before stepping out of the room. The five other princes, all clad in their official dress, applauded softly at his emergence. 

"White suits you, your grace," Samuel said, the lesser prince of the fields. 

"Thank you, my lord," Adrian said with a nod. 

"Have you given any thought to your successor, your grace?" John asked, the lesser prince of the dwarves. 

"Not as yet," Adrian said, beckoning them all to take their seats around the table. He went over and sat in the ornate chair at the end which had been vacant for their vote not long earlier. "But whoever it is will have his work cut out for him," Adrian said, his voice changing and becoming a bit darker. The other princes sat down and looked furtively at each other. "My lords," Adrian said, folding his smooth hands on the table, "we're going to war."

There was silence in the chamber as the other princes looked at each other, specifically those who dealt with the dwarves and elves. 

"With whom, your grace?" the lesser prince of pilgrimage asked quietly. 

Adrian turned and looked at the lesser prince of the mines. 

"My lord," he began, "how often are the goblins raiding our northern villages?"

The prince cleared his throat. 

"Not as often as of late," he said calmly. "Our garrisons in the north have been quite adept at defending the area and the citizens there take more precautions when they're traveling closer to the northern mountains."

"But citizens of the kingdom are still being taken by goblins," Adrian stated, rather than asked. "Citizens of the most powerful kingdom in the land must take precautions in their own realm so that animals don't take them away to consume them or..." Adrian cleared his own throat, "or use them in the goblin way."

There was a great deal of uncomfortable silence as all of the princes shifted in their seats at the reference to 'the goblin way'. 

"Yes, your grace," the prince finally responded very softly. 

"I pushed Archprince Thomas numerous times for greater military action to the north. I repeatedly told him, as his prince of defense, that leaving any goblin alive within our borders would never allow us to flourish as a kingdom, that it would be a constant reminder of the days before the rebellion which began in those very mountains, but he never allowed it," Adrian said with soft confidence. 

"With all due respect, your grace," the prince of the mines began, "the former archprince was wise in his caution."

Adrian looked silently at him to continue. 

"We've sent numerous patrols and rescue teams into those mountains to retrieve captured terens. None return. Those mountains, if your grace is not aware, are extremely rugged with no discernible paths through them. The goblin caves are numerous and nearly impossible to account for in their totality. What you are proposing, if I understand it correctly, could be successful but could also cripple our military forces in the process," he said with rising confidence. 

There was a long pause before Adrian spoke again. 

"Does anyone know how many goblins perished in the initial rebellion our great king began?" he asked. 

The princes looked at each other. 

"I'm afraid a specific number is impossible to know," the prince of pilgrimage said, "and given how long ago it was and how that time is now remembered, the numbers surmised would probably be higher than in reality."

"Thank you, Charles," Adrian said, bypassing protocol to try to warm up the room. "Simon," he said, addressing the prince of the mines, "how many do you think were slain?"

"Thousands, no doubt, given the number of terens our great king brought out of the mountains in the beginning," he said, "but it's impossible to know their numbers now after so many years. We're not exactly clear on how, or if, goblins procreate. There is also another issue," Simon began tentatively. Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Our soldiers know the risks of going into those mountains. They understand what will happen to them if goblins capture them. You may have soldiers who refuse to go."

"My lords," Adrian said, standing up. The others stood up as well. "I, as leader, cannot abide our citizens living in fear. We have defeated the horde, crippled the other races, and are poised to become the greatest nation this world has ever seen. To have animals raiding our kingdom is intolerable. Send out the word that the army is to be fully mustered. We march north."

"We?" Charles asked gently.

"I will lead the army personally," Adrian said. "With the Archprince at the head of the column, no soldier will turn away. I will face the same risks as they will. Inform the elves and dwarves that we are going to war and, at this time, have no plans to attack them. I don't want them to go on a war footing. However, those garrisons along the Ferox will remain fully-armed. Should either Luminos or Vinduli decide that with our military in the north they might make any moves across the river, I will crush them."

"I don't think we'll need to worry much about that, your grace," George, the lesser prince of the elves chimed in. "I don't wish to speak for the dwarves but I would gather they're in the same if not worse situation as Luminos. When we demanded the release of all teren slaves after Crystal Lake, the economies of both nearly collapsed. For many centuries they were dependent upon teren labor. That allowed their military-aged men to fight. Now, though, they need them as much at home as they would at the front. The economy of Luminos is still very fragile and shows no signs of being strong enough to support a war in any way. To put it simply, should the elven army march north, they and their country would starve."

"I appreciate that reassurance," Adrian said politely, "but I never want them to think we will underestimate them. The warnings will still be given."

The lesser princes looked at each other again and nodded. Adrian beckoned towards the door to let them know they were dismissed and the lesser princes left in silence as Adrian slumped into his chair once the room was empty. 

A few days later, Archprince Adrian mounted his white horse just inside the massive main gates of the capital. He was clad in resplendent armor from head to toe that had been crafted just for the archprince. All around him, terens were mounting their own horses clad in strong armor. There was a loud cheer from the civilians as the archprince rode forth followed by his personal guard and the city's garrison. 

The teren army was standard with cavalry, infantry, and archers. Infantry and cavalry wore suits of armor with cavalry's a bit lighter to spare the horses as much as possible. Archers wore much lighter garments to allow for swifter movement. Teren archers were known for their deadly accuracy, surpassing that of even the elves since they drilled relentlessly. Thousands of terens left the sprawling city and marched south along the main road that connected the capital to the fortresses to the south. There they would meet up with the main force that was garrisoned at the fortress of the lesser prince of defense who had just been named to replace Adrian. It took an entire week to march, such was the size of the kingdom. 

When the archprince arrived, he was greeted by Maxwell, the new lesser prince, clad in his black tunic. Maxwell was a close advisor and general to Adrian previously and the obvious choice. Maxwell was to stay behind during the war so as to oversee defense in the absence of the archprince. Maxwell wasn't happy about it but he understood his vital role. The kingdom hadn't been at war for a century and, in all reality, had never been at war as a united kingdom. They were all marching into the unknown. 

As the archprince marched the army through the kingdom, the numbers continued to swell as all reservists were being called up as well. Every teren was trained to fight in some way and Adrian wanted a number so large that defeat was impossible. 

By the time the massive force reached the castle of the lesser prince of the mines in the north, nearly two months had passed since the decision. Despite the roads that the terens had been building to facilitate travel, the size of the kingdom was truly massive. 

Inside the lavish castle, Adrian and his generals poured over maps of the northern mountains. Unfortunately, terens had never been able to map them as they had the rest of the kingdom because those that attempted to do so never returned. What they had came from the scant archives that the orcs had since goblins didn't fancy the taste of orcs, nor any other aspect of them. Goblins preferred terens and elven boys. 

"The range tapers to the west," Adrian said sliding his finger across the map. "To the north is frozen tundra, Lake Braesla to the east, and the Northern Sea to the west. If we keep our garrisons prepared in the south as they currently are, we can move east to west in a systematic motion to empty the entirety of the mountain range. If the goblins flee north, they'll freeze. If they flee south, our garrisons will catch them."

"Your grace," one of his generals interjected, "with all due respect, that will take a very long time."

"Do you have somewhere else to be?" Adrian asked bluntly. 

"With respect," the general clarified, "we're not sure if that will be possible given the rugged nature of the northern range."

"We did the same to the goblins in the western range during the rebellion," Adrian said, tilting his head and pointing at the small group of mountains just to the north of the Ferox River. 

"We did," the general said slowly, "but the western mountains aren't as high, as steep, as jagged, or as dense. There were very few caves in those mountains because of that and the goblin population there was quite small. Apart from the mountains west of Luminos, of which we know only what the elves have told us, the northern mountains are the most treacherous. We may suffer many casualties simply from the elements, let alone the goblins themselves."

"Do you have a suggestion?" Adrian asked, standing up straight and folding his arms. 

"Multiple entries from the south, where the terrain is more forgiving, pushing north. This will allow us to gain footholds within the mountains as bases. We can then move in multiple directions until we meet up with the other advances."

"Divide the forces?" Adrian asked.

"With respect," the general said, sounding a bit exasperated, "the forces we have gathered are greater than during the rebellion when we defeated the horde. We can resupply through the existing garrisons to the footholds we'll gain in the mountains and force the goblins to fight or flee to the tundra and die."

Adrian looked at the map quietly as the generals shifted on their feet. 

"Very well," Adrian said finally. "I will lead the attack on the point furthest east. General Peter you will take your forces to the shores of the Northern Sea and push in from the west. General Andrew, you will be to his right, and General Michael, you will be to my left. Once you've established footholds in the mountains, begin moving out. No unit smaller than a brigade will venture forth. That should ensure great enough numbers for any eventuality."

The generals nodded and were dismissed. Adrian stared at the map as he heard horns blasting outside as orders were being given. They'd have to wait at least a week for Peter to move into position from where they were thus all moving in together. In the interim, Adrian spent his time reviewing the status of the mines with the lesser prince as well as drawing up an emergency pilgrimage declaration. Before he moved out with his force, he put his seal on it and sent it to the lesser prince of pilgrimage with a simple note.

You'll know when to issue this, -Adrian

*5 years later*

General Peter hastily finished his message as the sounds of the battle drew ever closer. Behind him he could hear the waves of the Northern Sea crashing against the beach. Behind him, looking increasingly nervous, was his most trusted page, Jeremy. Jeremy wore light clothing despite the cooler temperatures so as to ride as fast as possible. Over his back was slung his bow and quiver. Peter signed his name, rolled up the paper, sealed it, and gave it to Jeremy. 

"Now, with haste, my old friend," the general said. Jeremy hesitated. "You have to go," Peter said. "They have to know what happened. You're the fastest rider and an expert mounted archer. Don't leave the beach until you reach the flatlands to the south. The goblins have the other routes south blocked off I imagine which is why nothing has been able to get through."

Jeremy stared at the general he'd served for many years as tears welled up in his eyes. 

"Tell them we died with honor."

Peter clapped a hand on the smaller teren's shoulder and Jeremy turned and exited the general's large tent in the direction of the beach. Peter watched from the tent as Jeremy mounted a brown horse. He took one more look at the general before he rode fast down the beach. 

The sounds of the battle were closer now, as well as some sounds Peter didn't recognize, and Peter put his helmet on with its black plume. He appeared about 14 and his light brown hair was matted with sweat and dirt. His smooth face was also marred with the years of battle they'd endured since setting off on this campaign. He lowered the visor and drew his sword. Taking a deep breath he exited the tent from the other direction that faced the western edge of the mountains. 

The goblins had breached the last palisade of the camp and were now engaged with the general's personal guard. Peter launched into the battle and put the training he'd received at the officer's academy to work. Peter had been an early page of Adrian's when Adrian was appointed the lesser prince of defense. Pages often became quite close with the nobles that they served given the sometimes intimate nature of what they would assist with. Adrian saw Peter's acuity when it came to military tactics quite quickly and paid to have him attend the officer's academy. Peter received the highest scores on all of his assessments and quickly rose through the ranks until he was one of the personal generals of the lesser prince. But nothing he learned in the academy prepared him for fighting goblins. 

He managed to slay a few goblins but was eventually overpowered, having his sword grabbed out of his hand while another goblin jumped on him and brought him down into the mud. The goblins' mouths were dripping with teren blood and Peter prepared himself for death. But death didn't come. His helmet was ripped off and multiple goblins began tearing his armor off of him one piece at a time. Peter now knew what was going to happen to him by way of horror stories only. All terens knew the horror stories of what goblins would do if they chose not to eat them. Peter struggled intensely but was nowhere near strong enough to shake the goblins off of him. 

The rest of his personal guard were now all on the ground and getting a similar treatment save one who lay dead just a few feet away from Peter. Peter saw him and became momentarily frozen as he watched the dead soldier have his limbs torn off and devoured by the ravenous goblins. Peter was only brought back to reality when the last of his clothing was removed and his hairless body lay fully exposed. The goblins roared in triumph before one plowed into Peter's ass. The general screamed as a pain he'd never dreamed of filled his body. His scream was soon muffled as another goblin shoved his thick cock into Peter's mouth and Peter, along with his guard, were all spit-roasted in their camp. 

It was worse than Peter could've possibly imagined as he was fucked relentlessly from both sides. His limbs were held down by goblins waiting their turns and they soon took them. Peter was kept on his back as goblin after goblin took their turn with the fallen general. Peter watched the sun set, filled from both ends. Sometime during the night he was flipped onto his stomach and with his head being wrenched back so the goblin fucking his mouth had a good angle. 

For two days Peter was fucked without ceasing as the goblins seemed to move through the camp, drunk on their own victory and gorged on teren flesh. Eventually it stopped and Peter, covered in mud and drenched in goblin fluids, was hauled onto his bare feet. He could barely stand but they didn't care. The rest of his naked guards were treated the same. Their wrists were crudely bound with rope and then tied to each other so they were in a line. Their ankles were not bound so they could keep up. 

Led by Peter, the naked general and guards were led out of the inner palisade where they'd been used into the larger camp. Peter could barely see but he could make out other lines of 8-10 terens, all naked and in a similar state, being led away by groups of goblins. All around them were discarded body parts of the soldiers who had been lucky enough to have been killed and eaten. 

They exited the walled perimeter of the central camp Peter had established almost 5 years ago when the war began and headed deeper into the mountains. For 5 years there had been nothing but slaughter on both sides. Peter had surmised near the end that the goblins in the west had numbered the same, if not more, than his force when it entered. His military training had taught him tactical maneuvering but a lack of field experience had made Peter overly cautious. He'd kept the Northern Sea to his left, hugging the beach so as not to be encircled. They had reached, with little resistance, the site he chose as his foothold. Peter hadn't left it in 5 years. 

As they moved into the mountains, they passed numerous goblin caves and Peter could hear the sounds from within and now knew exactly what those sounds meant. These caves had initially been cleared by early sorties into the mountains but were now re-occupied with goblins and terens alike. 

About a day's journey east they reached one of the skirmish camps Peter had established. Tactically, Peter had established multiple camps like spokes on a wheel around the main camp. The idea was to push from the main camp, clear, establish new camps, push, and clear. They never made it past the first line before the goblin attacks eventually began to push them back. The camp was full of teren bones from the fallen. Then they turned south out of the skirmish camp. 

A large swath of mountains that were physically impassible had been to the main camp's southeast. Using that as a natural barrier, Peter could put more soldiers in the other camps. What he now saw as they ventured south around those mountains were dozens of goblin caves that were unseen from the west. Peter and his guards were led into one of these caves and the sounds that greeted them were not good. 

The cave was jammed with goblins and naked terens, most of whom were being roughly used in the goblin way. However, the terens that were not being used were not restrained in any way. They were huddled together in groups against the wall, knees pulled up, eyes blank and deadened, waiting to be used or eaten. The bonds were removed from Peter and his guards, all of whom were immediately grabbed by goblins and used. 

Peter was approached by what he assumed was the goblin in charge of the cave who seemed to know who Peter was. He wrapped a large hand around Peter's throat and lifted the naked boy up off the ground. Peter gagged and his feet flailed a bit as the air was choked out of him. The goblin smiled broadly as Peter's eyes rolled up and he went limp in his grasp. Unfortunately for Peter, he wasn't killed. 

Several days later, Peter was crawling on his hands and knees behind the same goblin who ran the cave. He'd taken Peter as his personal pet and used him almost continuously. The goblin stopped and slumped down against the cave wall and spread his legs. Peter obediently went and began to give the goblin a blow job until the goblin picked Peter up, turned him around, and impaled him. 

Across the way Peter saw two terens that appeared about 11. It was the first time he'd seen an erect teren penis. The two terens were stroking themselves in a way Peter wasn't familiar with as goblins cheered them on. The terens appeared to be enjoying themselves and the one on the right shuddered in an odd way and, as far as Peter could make out, was the winner. The goblin Peter was riding moved Peter's hand to his limp cock and began to make him stroke it in the same way, but nothing happened.

***

Adrian stared at the message in total silence. He sat alone in his tent deep in the mountains. He'd long since united with General Michael's forces and both had had relatively good success in their long campaign. They were nearing General Andrew's forces based on recent reports. It seemed, and was now confirmed, that the goblins had been massed in the west. The treacherous terrain had caused a very slow movement from east to west but few goblins meant few casualties. Had they followed Adrian's initial plan, they would've had their entire force pin the goblins to the west. It would've been bloody, but more successful than losing almost a quarter of the army. And it had been General Michael's idea to separate...

"Daniel!" Adrian yelled. His page entered the tent. "Get me General Michael. Now." he said in a tone of voice Daniel had never heard before. Daniel nodded nervously and left to fetch the general. Michael appeared not long after. 

"Yes, your grace," Michael said, approaching the table. Adrian threw the paper at him. Michael began to read and his face went pale. Adrian's heart was pumping fast as he looked at the teren who had basically sentenced his friend to death. 

"Had you listened to me," Adrian said quietly.

"Your grace, I..."

"Had you listened to me," Adrian said louder, rising to his feet. He was a few inches taller than Michael. "the army would be intact, Peter would be alive, and we'd be that much closer to ending this bloody war!"

Michael was silent for a moment before he chose to speak. 

"Your grace," he started quietly, "you didn't have to listen to me. You could've gone with your plan."

Adrian's temper boiled over. 

"You're my lead general, Michael! How would it look, how would it look if my first military action as archprince in the first war we'd ever fought as a united kingdom was in opposition to my lead general's idea? You knew you had me over a barrel, you knew I wouldn't risk the morale of the men or the confidence of my generals. You gave me an idea, an idea from your training and not from any practical experience, and now you blame me for not knowing it was bad?! Guards!"

Two soldiers walked into the tent as Adrian tried to catch his breath. 

"You both will escort the General hear personally to the castle of the lesser prince of pilgrimage. You will then personally escort him through the Sacred Forest and ensure that he goes on his pilgrimage," he spat. Michael's eyes widened. 

"Your grace!" he pleaded.

"GET OUT!" Adrian yelled. Michael turned to leave with the guards. "And I pray that if you do create emergences, that they won't have your lack of character."

Michael froze. His words caught in his chest and the guards were taken aback as well at the quasi-blasphemous statement. But Michael chose to leave with dignity.

Adrian took command of the late general's corps and continued the push to the west to meet up with their remaining forces which, based on the last reports, were in desperate need of reinforcements from the east. 

***

Peter took no notice of the sounds further up the cave towards the entrance. He was where he was supposed to be, waiting against the wall for when the goblins wanted him. That's what he was for. He was for nothing else. Next to him, a few naked terens were playing with each other, sending each other into climactic states. Peter took no notice. 

The sounds further up the cave changed and the goblin noises ceased. There was a sound of clanking, of armor, moving down the long, winding cave towards the groups of naked terens. 

"Over here!"

Peter saw shapes moving all around him, terens clad in blood-stained armor as they moved to collect those terens unfortunate enough to still be alive. 

Adrian approached slowly and cautiously, kneeling down and removing his helmet. He placed it on the ground next to Peter whose thousand-yard stare seemed to pierce space and time. Adrian swallowed hard and placed a hand gently on his former page's shoulder. Peter recoiled immediately and Adrian withdrew his hand momentarily before placing it on his shoulder again. He squeezed as gently as he dared.

"Peter," he said in a low voice. Peter didn't seem to respond to the sound of his own name. "Bring coverings!" Adrian ordered. All around him the soldiers were helping to cover the genitals and posteriors of the rescued terens. As the army had moved through this part of the mountains they had to do this more and more, simply covering the naked terens enough to provide them with a modicum of modesty. A soldier handed the archprince a leather loincloth and Adrian attempted to put it on Peter but Peter remained in his position, folded up tight against the wall. 

"Peter," Adrian said in a slightly-more commanding voice. Something deep within Peter's memory was triggered and his dead eyes turned and looked at his former lord. "Let me help you, as you once helped me."

Pages usually dressed their lords and Peter finally released his knees and let his smooth legs stretch out. Adrian undid the sides of the loincloth and immediately covered the hairless genitals of the former general. As Peter gingerly stood up, Adrian secured the backside. Adrian's armor was covered in goblin blood and Peter's body was covered in dirt and caked with grime. Adrian put an arm around Peter's right shoulder and held him close as Peter's strength slowly returned. 

"How...how...long..." Peter croaked, staring ahead and vaguely at the ground. Adrian's other hand went to the side of Peter's head and drew him into a tighter embrace. 

"Five years, my friend," he whispered. 

Adrian left his helmet in the dirt in that cave and walked Peter personally out of the cave. In the brilliant sunshine outside Peter squinted, his eyes pained at the first light in 5 long years. All around, terens wearing loincloths in various states of distress were being helped out of caves. Adrian held Peter very close still as he watched the scene around him. 

"Is it...over?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Adrian said back in a voice that sounded miles away. "It's over. We won."

Adrian walked Peter over to his white horse and helped him mount it. Adrian mounted it behind his friend and once again held him close. No one questioned the archprince as he slowly walked his horse away from the scene, moving south and west out of the northern mountains. It was a relatively short ride to the boundary of the Sacred Forest. All terens that were being rescued from the caves were being asked to go on pilgrimage, mainly for their own sake as few would've been able to re-assimilate into teren society, so broken had they become. Peter, though, would not need to go through the normal channels of pilgrimage. Adrian would see to it himself. 

They dismounted the horse and Adrian, his arm still around Peter and holding him close, walked him into the Sacred Forest as no creature but a teren was allowed inside. 

The forest was quiet and serene with the sun barely piercing through the upper canopy of what the elves had called teres trees. The trees' bark was as smooth as polished marble and as strong as steel. Teres was an elven word for smooth and given that terens had no body hair apart from their heads, the elves had nicknamed them terens and the name stuck. It was now a badge of honor that the terens used that also connected them to the Sacred Forest where they were first discovered by elves and orcs so many years ago. 

The two had entered the forest near the north where it was more narrow and after only a day they reached the western edge. Adrian held Peter tighter than ever as the two stood at the border of the forest. Ahead of them was an endless sea of sand dunes that the other races referred to as the Wasteland. Nothing could survive there. Nothing except a teren. Beyond the Wasteland lay the Divine Lake, something only terens returning on their pilgrimage would ever see. 

Adrian and Peter stared at the seemingly endless dunes in silence. Peter turned to look at his archprince and Adrian looked back. The two embraced each other as tears began to fall from Adrian's eyes. 

"It wasn't your fault," Adrian said. Peter wept in his friend's embrace under the shade of the trees before finally breaking the embrace. He wiped the tears from his eyes and slid off the loincloth and handed it to Adrian. Terens entered and exited as they had emerged: in their purest form. Adrian looked deeply into Peter's eyes and they nodded to each other, slight grins coming over their weathered faces. Peter turned and his bare feet hit the soft sand as he began to walk. He knew where to go. He wasn't sure why or how, but he knew. 

Adrian wanted to follow him. He wanted to be with him, but he also knew in his heart that his time wasn't now. It would be soon, though. Somehow he knew that. He stared until the naked body of Peter had passed beyond his sight, then he turned and walked through the forest until he found his horse, waiting patiently for him on the other side. 

The War in the North, as it came to be known, lasted 10 years. The teren army suffered a 40% casualty rate in terens killed or captured by the goblins, with about half being taken into the caves to be used and another half of those being consumed by the goblins during that time. However, despite the huge loss of life, those that were rescued went on pilgrimage and many more terens emerged to take the place of the fallen. The war was considered a great success as it finally removed the goblin threat from the borders of the kingdom. Goblins now only dwelt beyond the river west of Luminos where they continued to periodically raid those elven villages and take elven boys to do with as they pleased. 

The war forever changed Adrian. He'd seen things he never thought he would see. It also made him realize how poorly prepared terens were for mountain combat, something the other races could take advantage of in the future as there were plenty of mountains in and around the kingdom. He made it a point to teach those tactics at all levels, but the enthusiasm didn't remain long as the kingdom settled back into peacetime. 

Adrian tried to do his best as archprince during the years that followed but he seemed only interested in wars and fighting, something the lesser princes became wary of since there was no further need of it, at least for the moment. Seeing that purpose in the world had been fulfilled, Adrian resigned his office in the year 122, reigning a short 22 years, 10 of which had been the bloodiest war yet seen. 

His pilgrimage was highly venerated by the population who lined the roads to cheer him as he made his way to the west. The name "Adrian" was spoken with honor as the one who subdued the goblins and brought further peace and security to the kingdom. 

Chapter Text

The council of lesser princes that met following the abrupt pilgrimage of Adrian had a more difficult task than was imagined when the first archprince laid down the basic rules for succession. All of the lesser princes during the time of Thomas and Adrian were the originals selected, barring Maxwell who had succeeded Adrian after his election. All had remained in office during the War in the North to maintain as much stability in the kingdom as possible. Following the end of the war, approximately 12 years before Adrian resigned, all but one of the original lesser princes went on pilgrimage as they had all felt the call to do so. The only one who remained when Adrian suddenly resigned was Samuel, the Lesser Prince of the Fields. 

When the council of lesser princes met in the capital to choose the third archprince in the history of the kingdom, Samuel was the clear choice because of his experience, but he was the first to speak and he announced his intention to go on pilgrimage within a year of the election, making him an impossible choice. Maxwell, the lesser prince of defense, had the most experience at only 22 years, but he made it clear that not only did he not want the position, but it would be imprudent. He was still in the throws of rebuilding the military after the war and was doing a very good job. To replace him at this juncture would slow that progress and all agreed that getting the military back to full strength was important. 

The remaining lesser princes at the table all had less than 10 years of experience at best which meant that while they could certainly be elected, their lack of experience and lack of public acclaim could be detrimental to the kingdom at what all agreed was a crucial juncture. This was, after all, only the third archprince. This would be the first archprince to rule in peacetime since Thomas and would need to oversee the expansion of the peacetime industries that the lesser princes all wished to see happen. 

Samuel then had an idea. He mentioned that it was not laid down in law that the archprince be elected from the lesser princes. It was assumed, but not codified. Therefore the lesser princes were free to choose any teren to lead the kingdom they thought worthy. Samuel then made a suggestion that seemed so obvious that the other princes were ashamed they hadn't thought of it. General Andrew. 

Andrew was the last remaining general from the War in the North as the other three had all gone on pilgrimage. He'd had tremendous success in treacherous conditions and was greatly admired throughout the entire kingdom. If it hadn't been for him, Peter's force would've have been wiped out long before it was which would've caused the war to drag on longer with greater casualties. 

Andrew was summoned to the chamber and despite his reservations, said he would accept. Archprince Andrew became the first, and last, archprince to ever be elected with six votes since lesser princes couldn't vote for themselves. 

Archprince Andrew, a striking figure who appeared about 15 with smooth blond hair and a face weathered from battle, made his mark on the kingdom immediately. He ultimately passed a law that said the archprince must be elected from the lesser princes. He helped to oversee the rebuilding of the military to a larger force than before, increasing reservist numbers and building greater fortresses throughout the kingdom, particularly along the borders with the elves and dwarves. 

Andrew heralded the era known as The Building. This period saw the expansion of cities, palaces, and industries. The power and wealth of the kingdom soared and Andrew was ruthless in his dealings with the other races, leveraging the kingdom's resources and wealth and power against their needs. This didn't help relations at all but no teren cared. The idea of teren superiority thrived during this period. 

Andrew would reign for an unprecedented 176 years, from 122-298, setting another precedent of the archprince reigning for as long as he'd like. He wasn't power hungry, he was determined to make safe and strong the kingdom he'd bled for in the north. 

Following Andrew's pilgrimage in 298, the lesser princes once again found themselves in a unique position. During the election, after several ballots, the Lesser Prince of the Mines was elected by a vote of 3-2-1. Once again consulting the law, it only said the lesser prince with the most votes, not the majority. It was a technicality and one that could potentially create division after such a long reign by Andrew. 

To keep unity in the kingdom, the new archprince didn't go by his own name. Instead, he took the name Thomas II. He proclaimed that he was such an admirer of the first archprince that he wanted to do him the great honor of taking his name. This would begin a trend that many (but not all) archprinces would do. Thomas II also made it law that an archprince receive a majority of the votes. Therefore, a lesser prince would need a minimum of four votes to be elected, ensuring compromise and as much unity as possible. 

Thomas II's reign was otherwise unremarkable apart from him continuing the building of the kingdom. He was known mostly for his expansion of the capital and the palace of the archprince, overseeing a lavish upgrade that he saw as comparable to his office. He reigned from 298-408. 

In 408, the Lesser Prince of Pilgrimage was elected archprince. He took the name Charles, after the original lesser prince of pilgrimage who he greatly admired. Charles (later known as Charles I), became the last archprince of the period known as The Building. During his tenure as lesser prince of pilgrimage, he had engaged the skilled teren textile workers in the creation of a new fabric. This fabric was stretchy but also soft, as the stretch threads were carefully interwoven with satin and silk. The stretch fabric on its own was quite rough and uncomfortable. The interweaving process was very time consuming and expensive as it took a very skilled artisan to do it right. Thus, the fabric was only affordable to the highest nobilities. 

Charles I made it a fashion staple in the kingdom that any teren who wore the fabric was a teren of enormous wealth. The fabric was made almost exclusively for legs and so the introduction of teren nobles wearing white tights became common. Charles therefore would wear his golden embroidered shirt and smooth white tights that carefully and softly hugged every curve of his slender legs. He had no concerns of other...things...that it hugged. The tights were so soft and flexible and comfortable that every noble desired them, but so few could afford them. 

This fashion trend would spark similar trends throughout the kingdom, signaling a shift away from the rugged, industrial, and more militaristic fashion tones of the early kingdom to a softer, regal, and more comfortable style. It signified to the other races specifically that the terens were dominant and confident in all that they did, and despite the soft appearance of the nobility, no one wanted to tangle with the vast numbers of the teren army.

Charles I went on pilgrimage in 561 leaving a lasting effect on fashion that would dominate teren society for thousands of years. 

Chapter Text

Luther sat high up on his brilliant white horse as he surveyed the landscape before him. He had a slight smile across his smooth, soft face. He appeared about 14/15 years old but had emerged about 100 years ago from the Divine Lake. His hair was light brown with some blond highlights thrown in. It was soft and full as his bangs swept down over his forehead. His eyes were bright blue and his lean body was perfectly defined by the tight clothing he always liked to wear. 

He was clad in his official attire as Lesser Prince of Defense. His black embroidered shirt tapered down his narrow waist and ended there. It was sleeveless as he preferred that style when out in the sun-clad plains east of the river. His slightly-defined, smooth arms had a nice tan on them as he spent a lot of time east of the river. Pulled up high on his narrow waist, thus the waistband fully concealed by his black embroidered shirt of office, were smooth white tights. He was a big fan of the fabric that the archprince had helped to develop. The lean muscles of his legs were perfectly outlined in the stretchy, soft material which fed into his riding boots. He carried no sword or armor as he never joined in the fighting. He just observed. 

The river to the east, which fed all of the large lakes that helped define the eastern borders of the kingdom before emptying into the Runden Sea, was rather impassible for most of its length. It was the official border of the kingdom in that area. Beyond it were a few independent dwarf mines in the mountains that the terens paid little attention to and vice versa. However, beyond the river to the east was also where the orcs had been exiled to following their defeat centuries earlier. 

With their empire shattered at the hands of the teren army, the remaining orcs had fled across the river to avoid total slaughter. The plains east of the river were rather barren and harsh. To the terens it was simply a vast expanse of nothing, thus they had no desire to occupy it in any real way. They didn't need the space and it provided them no resources. Their mines were richer than the mines in the mountains east of the river. Additionally, the weather was quite hot and dry. The climate shifted dramatically on the eastern side of the river and it seldom rained and there were few clouds. 

To provide security, there were no crossings on the river that were allowed initially. Orcs weren't the biggest fans of the water and so the possibility of them raiding the kingdom was much lower without any formal bridges or fords. The kingdom had established a few watchtowers to observe the area south of the mountains that were south of Groaznic Lake. This was the only part of the river that was conceivably crossable. 

Eventually, though, as the years began to tick by, the watchtowers began to notice the orc villages seemingly getting closer to the river. Once out of sight completely, the orcs began to reappear a bit as their numbers increased. The Lesser Prince of Defense prior to Luther had gotten permission to construct a single bridge over the river. The purpose of the bridge was to provide the military of the kingdom easy ability to attack the orc villages at will. The purpose of these attacks, which Luther carried on with vigor, was simple: continually remind the orcs that the terens were superior. 

Luther had been the lesser prince of defense now for about 35 years. Ever since he'd been raiding the orc villages without mercy, slaughtering almost every orc his soldiers came across. The raids were so severe and so frequent, that the orcs began to move further and further away from the easter river, hoping the sheer distance would deter the teren forces. Luther was not deterred. 

From Luther's vantage point on his horse, he could see the formations of his soldiers, clad in their bright, ornate armor, slicing through the inhabitants of the village they'd come across. This raid was actually not anticipated. Luther had sent scouts weeks before east of the river to find villages but didn't ever hear back from them. The reason wasn't because they had been killed or captured by the orcs, but rather the distance to the nearest village was so great that Luther's "rescue team", led by Luther himself, had met up with the scouts on their way back to inform the prince that they'd found a village on the eastern shores of Groaznic Lake past the mountains. 

The screams of the orc women brought a smile to the prince's face as his soldiers made quick work of the small village. He waited patiently for the raid to be finished so they could head back across the river with, what Luther hoped, was a decent catch. He was not disappointed. 

As the sounds of the raid diminished and only the sounds of teren steel slashing orc flesh to ensure they were dead, a squad of soldiers, their beautiful armor splashed with orc blood, brought Luther is prizes. They were three orc boys. They were shirtless, clad in simple loincloths. Their bodies were still quite thin but their muscles were well-defined. They were all chained on their ankles and wrists and walking on their own as the soldiers all had their swords out. They were a bit taller than the soldiers and most likely much, much stronger, as the average orc was much stronger and bigger than the average teren. However, steel and numbers make all the difference. 

Luther adjusted himself in his saddle as the three depressed-looking young orcs were brought to him. Luther cleared his throat and the three prisoners looked up at him. 

"You are prisoners of the Kingdom of Teres," Luther said, making his voice sound as deep and intimidating as possible. "On behalf of his grace, Archprince Charles, you will be imprisoned in the great fortress of defense west of the river until such time as we decide what to do with you."

Luther looked the thin, toned, green bodies over slowly. 

"However," he said, and at that word the three boys looked back up with curiosity, "you may be spared imprisonment if you swear to me, here and now, to serve me as slaves in my palace. Swear it by all you hold dear and you will be spared the cell."

The orc boys looked at each other with a bit of confusion. Luther shifted again in his saddle. The orcs had never heard of terens taking orcs as slaves. Although, as a power move, to enslave those who had once enslaved you en masse, it made sense. The orcs, rather scared given their young age and not wanting what they knew was a worse alternative, each slowly fell to their right knee. 

"By the walls of Groaznic, we swear our service to you," they all said, although not in unison in any way as they all knew the phrase but were nervous and not prepared for this. Luther smiled. He appreciated the orc oath for its insult to all terens. Groaznic was the former capital of the Orjuslan Empire, now the capital of the kingdom. By swearing by its walls, the orcs desired their eventual return. While intended as an insult, Luther took more pleasure in them swearing to return only to then have them as his slaves. 

"I accept your oath," Luther said. He turned to his commander and nodded and the small force formed up in a column and began the long march back to the kingdom. 

The return of the column across the small bridge brought a cheer from the defenders in the towers on the western banks when they saw the three young orc prisoners. The procession eventually returned to the fortress of the lesser prince. The three orc boys looked shocked at the massive walls of the fortress the terens had constructed. They had no idea the terens were capable of such building and their amazement continued as they entered the fortress. 

Within the towering gray walls of thick stone was the headquarters of the mightiest army the world had ever seen. Situated in the middle, high atop a natural rise in the landscape, was the palace of the lesser prince. Modest in comparison to some of the other princely dwellings but the best defended. Its own walls were of a black stone that seemed to shine in the sunlight and mirror the embroidered shirt of its chief resident. 

The three orc boys were led into a small chamber where another surprise greeted them. Another half-dozen orc boys, all a bit older than them, were waiting. They were all a bit thin, as most orcs were these days. It was hard for them to organize their food as the entire fortress was filled with non-eating terens. They all wore simple black satin loincloths which clearly made them a bit uncomfortable. Soft fabrics didn't agree with the orcs like they did with terens and elves. 

"Welcome to the service of the lesser prince," one orc said to the three new arrivals. "Your new clothes are there. Change immediately."

The three new orcs did as instructed, removing their simple loincloths and donning the black satin of their new state in life. They were then informed by the other six orcs what their daily tasks would be, which were simple but extensive. They cleaned the entirety of the prince's residence constantly, along with polishing his armor, sharpening his weapons, bathing him, dressing him, and standing at attention around his throne whenever he received anyone in audience. The sight of orc slaves in the palace was a strong symbol for Luther, showing his personal dominance over the once-feared race, despite the fact that they were all juvenile orcs no older than 15. 

That same evening of their arrival back, Luther was lounging on one of his soft couches in one of the many state rooms of the palace. He was wearing one of his sleeveless black embroidered shirts and smooth white tights. Inside the palace he walked without shoes and the tights were footed. He liked the feeling of the material encasing his feet. His shirt zipped on the front and he'd unzipped it, partially exposing his smooth, slightly-toned torso. The large fireplace nearby was crackling peacefully and Luther was casually reading a report from the northern garrisons on their readiness. He tossed the paper aside onto the floor and reached over for a small bell. He rang it and at once one of his orc slaves appeared. 

"Ah, one of the new ones," Luther said, staying laid out in his lounge position as the young orc approached nervously. "And what is your name, orc?" he asked dismissively. 

"Sabub," he replied quietly. Luther turned his body to face the orc while still laying down.

"You will address me as 'my lord', orc," he snapped. 

"Sorry, my lord," Sabub replied. 

"And how old are you, Sabub?" Luther asked, looking away again. 

"13, my lord," he replied. Luther chuckled. 

"So young," he replied. "Do you know how old I am?"

"No, my lord," Sabub replied. Although, since Luther didn't look much older, he was genuinely curious. 

"A crisp 98," Luther said, smirking and turning to look at the expression on Sabub's young face. The orc knew of the immortality of the terens, but had never really seen it first hand. 

Luther, still generally looking away from the young orc, then gave an odd command. 

"Remove your loincloth, Sabub," he said casually. Sabub swallowed uncomfortably but otherwise didn't hesitate. He lowered the satin cloth to the floor and stepped out of it. Upon hearing that Luther glanced over at the young orc. Sabub's green cock was soft but quite large in proportion to his body, as it was with most orcs. Like the rest of his green, toned body, it was without hair. Terens, goblins, and orcs all shared that trait. 

Luther swung his feet off the couch and stood up. Sabub was a few inches taller than the prince. Luther beckoned for Sabub to follow him and the boy did, following the prince out of the state room and into his large, lavish bedroom. An enormous bed with towering columns for posts was against the far wall. Various dressers and wardrobes containing his large amount of clothing were scattered around along with numerous chairs and tables, many of which were covered with official correspondence. 

Luther reached the edge of the bed and Sabub was behind him, standing naked and nervous. Luther turned around to face the young orc. 

"Undress me," Luther commanded. Sabub nodded in silence and removed the unzipped vest from the prince's upper body. The prince's muscles were clearly defined but quite small. He'd be no match against Sabub in a one on one fight. Sabub immediately thought about his slain family at the hands of the prince's forces, but his oath was unbreakable. Sabub then grabbed the waistband of the white tights, marveling at the softness and flexibility of the fabric, never seeing such a thing. He pulled it down until the hairless, cock of the prince was in full view. Sabub pulled the tights all the way down and the now-naked prince stepped out of them. 

Luther sat on the edge of his bed for a moment before letting himself fall backwards onto the soft mattress. Sabub stared down at the prince's naked body, unsure of what to do next. Then suddenly, the prince snapped his fingers impatiently and pointed to his hairless, flaccid cock. Sabub gulped before he took it in his hands. Unsure of exactly what to do, he began to manipulate it a bit before he watched it quickly grow to a full erection. Luther's eyes closed and he moaned softly. Getting the hang of it, Sabub began to stroke as Luther moaned louder. Much to his surprise, Sabub's own cock began to grow. He didn't realize the orcs had a natural attraction to terens. He stroked faster and faster until Luther cried out in a dry climax, his smooth body shuddering on the bed with his legs hanging over the side. 

Luther breathed heavily, feeling very satisfied. He opened his eyes and saw the naked orc boy with a raging erection. Luther, understanding the youth's confusion, helpfully lifted his own legs. Sabub then beheld the tight, smooth entrance of the prince and a natural instinct took over. He pushed gently into the prince as Luther cried out, feeling the orc boy's thick cock push in deep. Luther's cock grew again and while Sabub began to thrust, the orc helpfully brought his master to another climax before shooting deep into the lesser prince of defense. 

After Sabub's climax, he pulled out and Luther let his smooth legs drape once again over the bed. 

"Well done, Sabub," Luther said, sitting up while Sabub almost collapsed from exertion. Luther seemed un-phased. "You will speak of this to no one," Luther added, his voice suddenly going dark and threatening. Sabub gulped and nodded. "Good boy," Luther said, patting the cheek of the orc. 

A sudden knock at the door made both the naked teren and orc jump slightly. 

"Who is it?" Luther asked. 

"Dular, my lord," came the voice of one of his other, more veteran, orc slaves. 

"Come in," Luther said. Sabub's eyes went wide for a moment at the thought of someone seeing the two of them standing naked together next to the bed. Dular, the largest and oldest orc slave of the prince, came in wearing his standard black loincloth. He didn't seem to give any notice or concern at the situation. 

"An urgent message from the capital, my lord," Dular said, handing a rolled up piece of parchment with the seal of the archprince on it. Dular glanced at Sabub and Sabub swore there was a grin on the older orc's face. 

"His grace, Archprince Charles, is going on pilgrimage," Luther said, rolling up the scroll. "Dular, prepare my things. We leave for the capital in the morning for the election."

The two orcs bowed in deference before leaving the naked prince alone in his bedroom. 

The next day, Luther and a small retinue of teren pages he used for trips throughout the kingdom left the fortress and headed for the capital. It was well-known that Luther kept orcs as slaves which was his right to do. However, orcs were banned throughout the entire kingdom by general decree. Luther claimed his slaves as prisoners within the fortress, thus keeping them contained. It was the only way Charles had allowed it. As soon as Luther and his retinue had left the fortress, Dular was summoned by the head of the prince's guard. Without ceremony, Dular was killed as the prince had determined he'd become too old and thus too dangerous to keep around. 

A few weeks later, the council of lesser princes had fully gathered in the capital. Luther was excited at the prospect. Many lesser princes never got to participate in the election of an archprince and for someone who loved power as much as Luther did, his chances of being elected seemed quite high going in. At 35 years he had the second-most experience of any of the princes there, save the prince of the mines who had been managing that area for a half-century. Luther assumed it was going to come down to the two of them and had readied a strategy to hopefully ensure his election to the highest position in the kingdom. 

The citizens of the capital had gathered and were quite excited as the lesser princes made their grand entrances into the chamber for their first talks. Luther looked resplendent in his finest black silk embroidered shirt and brilliantly-white tights. His black silk boots matched perfectly and he waved to the crowds as he walked in file with the other princes. They entered what was essentially a plain room by comparison to the rest of the grand palace of the archprince. The room was preserved from the very first election and it had actually been moved a few times during renovations but its proportions, decor, chairs, and everything were original from the very first election. 

The princes took their seats around the table with the empty, larger chair enticingly close. Luther made quick eye contact with Francis, the lesser prince of the mines. Francis appeared about 13 and was quite small compared to Luther despite being much older. Francis was a very shrewd operator when it came to politics which helped him gain enormous wealth during his tenure, making his position second only to the lesser prince of pilgrimage when it came to the wealth and prestige of the lesser offices. 

"My lords," Francis said, his voice a bit high pitched. As the elder prince he was in charge of the election. He stood up and Luther smirked visibly. Francis paid him no mind. "We have before us a simple, yet profound task. Our brother Charles has fulfilled his duty honorably and we must elect someone who will continue to lead our kingdom into great prosperity. As a matter of course, I ask those who will refuse election, should it go their favor, to speak now or consent to be considered."

He looked around at the other five princes in the room, but none spoke up. Francis smiled. 

"Very good," he said. "Before you is your parchment. Please indicate by title your choice to sit on the throne of Teres."

The princes dutifully wrote down their choice. They folded the small piece of parchment once finished and placed them in an open golden cylinder in the middle of the table. Once all six ballots were in, Francis stood up, placed a lid on the cylinder and flipped it over. He removed what had just been the bottom of it and reached in to pull out the first piece. After pulling out all six ballots, he verbally stated the tally. 

"Two votes for the mines, two votes for pilgrimage, two votes for defense."

The princes looked around at each other in silence. 

"We will adjourn for discussion and reconvene in 1 hour."

The six princes rose from the chairs in silence and once outside the chamber began to converse with each other. Luther was surprised at the two votes for the lesser prince of pilgrimage as he was only recently promoted to that position. However, Luther knew he was very close with Francis and would no doubt attempt to push the votes to his friend. Luther excused himself from the room and summoned one of his pages for an errand. The page promptly returned with an ornate box and gave it to Luther who took it with him into the council chamber. 

Once all the princes were assembled with a palace page having put fresh parchment on the table while burning the previous ballots, Luther stood up before Francis stood up again and gave his canned speech. 

"My lords," he said. They looked at him quizzically. "I know this is unusual but we live in unusual times. We have grown comfortable in peace. We have enjoyed the spoils of peace," he added gesturing to them all and himself who were clad in their silk and satin embroidered shirts and white tights. "But we cannot forget that there still looms a threat."

At that he placed the ornate box on the table. He opened it and pulled out the head of Dular which had been delivered while Luther was waiting in the capital for the other lesser princes to arrive for the election. The princes gasped and one looked a bit ill at the sight of the young orc's head. 

"The orcs remain to the east. For the last 35 years I have continued to seek them out and slaughter as many as possible. A few I have enslaved, as you know, as a reminder that they still exist and are still a threat, but a threat we can manage with the right leadership. My soldiers call me the orc slayer. I will not shy away from that title."

Luther put his former slave's head in the box and closed it before putting it back on the floor. Francis, after some time, cleared his throat and repeated their duty before they all wrote their choice. Francis was staring daggers at Luther who paid him no notice. After once again flipping the cylinder and removing the names, Francis called out the results. 

"Four votes for defense, one vote for pilgrimage, one vote for the mines," he said solemnly. He glared at Luther who he knew had voted for Francis since he couldn't vote for himself by law, just to rub it in. "My lords, we have succeeded in our solemn task. Your grace," he said, choking a bit on the title and looking at Luther, "by what name shall you be called?"

"Luther," he replied with a smile. Francis nodded, although one could barely tell. He beckoned Luther towards the small room off the chamber where Luther donned the white of his new office before returning and sitting on the larger chair at the end of the table. 

"As my first official act I appoint the lord commander of the fortress guard as the new Lesser Prince of Defense. He has served me well in that respect and will continue my policies east of the river in regard to our orcish enemy," Luther stated. The princes nodded in agreement as the prince of defense was almost always appointed directly from the military rather than lower nobility as is the case with the others. 

"That is all for now," Luther said after a pause. He was going to announce another executive act but, as he glanced around the room, particularly at the princes of the mines and pilgrimage, he chose the wiser path of doing it after the princes had departed back to their respective castles. Those two were the furthest from the capital and that's where Luther planned to keep them. 

After pledging their loyalties to him by a simple oath, the princes made their arrangements to leave. 

About a month after his election, Luther issued a decree that allowed for any noble, should he desire, to maintain a small household of slaves belonging to any race he should so desire, including orcs. The decree went largely unnoticed by the population as almost all terens greatly distrusted other races. No other races even lived within the borders of the kingdom. The only interaction terens had with elves or dwarves were if they were traders who sold goods to them and thus journeyed to their lands. However, when Francis received a copy of it, he immediately grew suspicious. 

In secret, so as to not cause public concern initially, Luther arranged for his small group of orc boys to be transported to the capital. There, the orcs began to assume their duties as they once had. However, this caused great consternation amongst the pages of the archprince who were quite numerous. They were all dismissed so the orcs could take over their duties. The fact that Luther seemed to prefer the company of orc boys to teren pages in his palace began to cause confusion and concern to the population, but Luther paid it no mind. He instructed Stanley, his successor as prince of defense, to continue his raids to the east as best he could, although the army was having to move further and further east to find orcs as they'd fled so far away from the terens to avoid becoming extinct. 

A few rumors began to swirl, nothing too crazy, but enough to make Luther uncomfortable. After Stanley had sent him three new boys, all much younger than usual so now even smaller than Luther, Luther brought out three of his older orc slaves and publicly executed them in the capital. He proclaimed to the crowds that he was making a profound statement about how the orcs, should they ever threaten or return, are to be used and discarded by the terens as the terens once had been. 

The public executions seemed to assuage the population of the capital for many years. 

In the year 598, 37 years after his election, Luther was sprawled out on the lavish bed of the archprince. He was completely naked and was surrounded by orc boys, all around the age of 10/11 and smaller than Luther in stature, but not where it mattered to the archprince. One of the orcs was methodically pushing his modest cock in and out of Luther's tight hole. Another sat on the archprince's face as Luther gently tasted the orc's balls. The other two were on either side and one was stroking Luther's rock hard cock while the other played with the archprince's nipples. Luther was climaxing again and again the young orcs did as they had been instructed upon their arrival at the capital. 

With a free hand Luther smacked the ass of the one sitting on his face and the orc boy shifted until his hard cock was at the archprince's mouth. He gently pushed in, allowing Luther to take the large cock without difficulty or choking. Luther savored the taste as he felt the orc plowing him finish hard deep within him. Luther shuddered in another climax at the feeling before the one stroking his cock filled him. When the one filling his mouth came, he cycled out so the one playing with Luther's nipples could go inside Luther's wet mouth. This allowed the other two to get their strength back. 

Luther's mind was consumed by both pleasuring and being pleasured by his orc boy slaves. The young orcs were like ducks to water when it came to fucking and pleasuring terens despite them having no real world experience until they did so with the most powerful teren on earth. 

For an entire week Luther was in his bedroom as his small harem of orc boy slaves engaged in this orgy with him. Luther's number of orcs had risen from a modest 7 or 8 to over 20. However, Stanley's last report had stated that the raiding forces were now being forced to traveling with a large amount of food just to sustain any possible slaves they could find and many of the soldiers were beginning to question the reasons for the raids when it took a trained, fast-moving force such as them a month just to reach the nearest orc village, so far had they fled. But Luther was insistent, not caring about the perception or the cost. 

After the week-long orgy, Luther was carefully bathed by his orc boys to remove all traces of their activity. When he finally emerged, there was a huge stack of paperwork that he needed to attend to and a majority of it was from Francis. Luther began to despise that prince who was constantly encouraging rumors of Luther's exploits. He contemplated a forced pilgrimage decree but Francis was very popular and that would add fuel to the fire. 

Consuming much of Francis' correspondence was an issue with the gem trade, specifically with the dwarf cities south of the Runden Sea. Luther scanned the paperwork for quite some time as the issue was quite extensive. As he was doing so, Guag, one of his older and favorite orc boys, came into the office. He was naked and hard and was playfully poking Luther's face with his large cock. Luther's own grew hard within his white tights. 

"Stop...Guag...I need to focus..." Luther said, sounding like an elf who had been in a tavern for too long. Guag reached down and palmed the archprince's erection and Luther moaned. "Alright, you win!" Luther sighed. He looked at the last letter of what Francis was proposing and Luther quickly drew up a decree doing just the opposite. With a smirk he placed his seal on the decree and rang the bell for a teren page to fetch it while Guag carried the lusty archprince back to his bedroom. 

Now the rumors were flying fast and furious. Francis, absolutely furious at the archprince's decision, began to outwardly claim what Luther was really doing with his orc slaves. To make such an accusation, to accuse a teren, let alone the archprince himself, of wanting to be touched by another and used in the goblin way was tantamount to treason...if it wasn't true. Luther knew he couldn't accuse Francis yet of that and so once again Luther played a desperate card. He publicly executed all of his orc boy slaves, desperately trying to prove his innocence. 

Unfortunately, despite that act, the rumors never went away. Even with just terens as his pages once again, Luther's reputation amongst the population was irreparably damaged. Luther resigned his position in the year 601, reigning just 40 years. 

Despite coining himself as "the Orc Slayer", the later historical records of the kingdom would refer to him as "the Orc Lover".

Chapter Text

Lucas shifted in his seat a bit as the large, ornate carriage trundled down the road. His retinue had just crossed the large stone bridge over a narrow point on the Ferox River that separated the Kingdom of Teres from the elven Kingdom of Luminos. It was his first official state visit to the country he'd been given jurisdiction to deal directly with on behalf of the newly-elected Archprince Maxwell. Well, he'd been elected 2 years prior but had only recently gotten around to choosing his successor as Lesser Prince of the Elves. 

Lucas, appearing about 13/14 with soft blond hair that was neatly parted and a very innocent looking face, was his choice. Lucas had been a duke before rising to this higher office. Maxwell had appointed him a duke because of Lucas' savvy trade expertise with his mostly-elven clients which had made Lucas very wealthy indeed. Now that Maxwell had achieved the highest office, he rewarded Lucas with this position. However, Lucas was never good face-to-face. He knew that which was why he always sent surrogates to deal with his clients with very specific instructions that they could not deviate from. It gave Lucas a fearsome reputation which, now that he was required by the archprince to make regular visits to Luminos, would no doubt vanish. 

The large carriage that Lucas was riding in was part of a larger train of carriages and wagons that carried goods, new items for sale, food, and about two dozen pages and other advisors. The elves, like terens, were infatuated with wealth and power. It was from the elves that the terens developed much of their own society once independent. Thus the lesser prince of the elves often projected his wealth on his visits to Luminos to remind the elves who was the richest and most powerful. 

Inside with Lucas were four of his closest pages who had been with him as a duke. He brought them to his new palace without hesitation as he needed pages that knew him. 

"You're going to do just fine, my lord," Charlie said to him, patting the tights-covered leg of the prince. Lucas adjusted his blue embroidered shirt, the nicest he possessed as far as he was concerned. It was interlaced with gold with a few diamonds studded throughout which made him sparkle in the sunlight. On his feet were very delicate blue silk boots that rose just past his thin ankles. Lucas was very trim with little definition to his muscles, but they were there. He had never served in the military apart from some basic training upon his emergence many years ago. 

"Thanks, Charlie," Lucas said. "Just as long as I don't have to speak I should be fine," he added, rolling his eyes. He sarcastically returned the pat on Charlie's own leg. The pages were all wearing loose, light blue silk tunics that were partially open at the top and came down to just above their knees. White satin belts cinched the tunics around their narrow waists. Lucas had wanted to initially have all of his pages in tights as well, but he couldn't that many pairs at this time. It was a goal, though, and he was hoping these trade talks would help lead to it. 

Lucas knew the numbers, he knew the situation in Luminos and Teres, and he knew he had the elves right where he wanted them. All he had to do was seal the deal. Maxwell had been surprisingly lenient with the elves which had always confused Lucas when he was one of his dukes and his election, the first ever from that office, had filled Luminos with hope of further good relations. Lucas was going to give them good relations, just on his terms. 

The train of wagons and carriages rumbled through the night on the rough roads of Luminos, another thing Lucas was going to address with them, and in the morning the procession came in sight of the capital city of Arx. 

Lucas had been there a few times but the ancient city always inspired a bit of awe. The towering white walls caught the early morning sun and shone brightly across the landscape. Large towers rose from within of many colors and hues of blue, green, and violet. The city, beyond reckoning in age, was matched only in size by the capital city of Teres. The walls of Arx had never been breached and the ancient civilization of the elves seemed to radiate from all surfaces. 

Trumpets blared as the procession passed through the gates of the city as an homage to the foreign noble. If there was one thing the elves were gifted at, it was flattery. Lucas smiled as the elven citizens on the streets paused and gave some sign of deference to the passing carriage, although he was sure there were a few other signs that were not so deferential. They wound through the maze of streets as the city was so ancient it had been built without any discernible plan. There were numerous layers of inner walls that the city had expanded past and numerous gates they passed through as those walls were still maintained. 

Eventually they approached the glittering palace that was home to the elven king. King Estelar XXI was reigning and he did Lucas the unusual courtesy of being outside waiting for him. The carriage stopped at the base of a very long staircase and Charlie hopped out quickly and held the door open for the prince as he gingerly stepped down in his silk boots. They didn't have much tread to them and were more ceremonial and glamorous than practical. The last thing he needed was to slip on the steps. 

The smooth marble of the steps felt warm in the early sunlight through the silk boots as Lucas looked up the steps toward King Estelar. He hid a smirk as he understood this was not a courtesy, it was a power play. The King was in his late 60's, quite tall and thin, and wore white silk robes. He had a long white beard that was a bit thin and waited patiently as Lucas, about a foot shorter, was made to look up at him as he climbed the stairs flanked by his pages. 

When they finally reached the top the King extended his hand which bore the ancient ring of elven kings. Lucas took the king's hand and simply shook it. Estelar smiled at Lucas' countermove. 

"Welcome to Arx, my lord prince," Estelar said in a voice that sounded much younger than he appeared. He spoke while they were still shaking hands and the sound of his voice seemed to lightly vibrate Lucas' entire body. Keeping hold of Lucas' hand he continued, "I'm afraid your pages are not allowed in the negotiations," he said, his voice continuing to cause a slight, yet pleasant vibration in the teren's body. "I hope that's ok," he said before finally releasing Lucas' hand. 

Lucas turned and looked at Charlie. He flicked his head back towards the base of the steps. 

"Not a problem at all," Lucas said, clearing his throat a bit as Estelar beckoned him inside. "Charlie, see to my accommodations and issue the appropriate orders to the rest of the household," Lucas said. 

"Of course, my lord," Charlie responded, looking a bit worried but hiding it as best he could. 

Lucas followed Estelar into the palace, flanked by the king's attendants, many of whom were as old as the king. It appeared as if it were a boy among men except that Lucas was older than all of them. 

"I apologize for turning away your young pages," Estelar said, his voice echoing in the massive hall they were slowly walking down. "It has always been that way for negotiations," he added casually. 

"Like I said, your majesty, it's not a problem. Then again, my pages are all older than you are," he added wryly. The appearance of the terens to other races was always so deceptive that Lucas felt a reminder of his age and thus potential wisdom was necessary. "And I don't believe that's the case," he said, "with all due respect."

"No?" Estelar asked almost whimsically as they continued down the hall. 

"The records in my palace archives indicate that it's only been in the last century or so that the prince and king have met one on one," he said. 

"You are well-read," Estelar said, almost affectionately. "But I'm afraid your palace archives aren't completely correct."

"Indeed," Lucas said simply, refusing to continue that particular conversation. 

"I was quite pleased with Archprince Maxwell's election," Estelar said as they turned a corner, "I was quite fond of him when he was charged with dealing with us lowly elves," he said with a smile. "Has he given you any instruction on these negotiations?" Estelar added, a bit softer. 

"No," Lucas lied. Maxwell had indeed sent him a few messages which made his desire quite clear to keep the terms of previous contracts, terms which Lucas thought could be improved for Teres by quite a lot. "He's more concerned with Vinduli at the moment," Lucas deflected. That was actually true as the dwarves were immediately wary of Maxwell given his elven connections prior to election. The dwarves and elves hated each other as much as terens and orcs. 

"Oh yes, I would imagine so," Estelar said smoothly as they reached a very ornate door. Standing outside the door were two of Estelar's pages. The boys wore white silk tunics that were sleeveless and came down to about the middle of their smooth white thighs. The tunics were a bit tight and not cinched in the middle. Their feet were bare and their skin seemed to almost glow. They couldn't have been older than 11 or 12. Their hand was bright blond and smooth, hanging down to about their shoulders, their eyes shining blue. They both smiled at Lucas and gave him bows of the head. Estelar dismissed his advisors down the hallway. 

"Elwin and Dain will be attending to us during our negotiations," Estelar said almost proudly, "should we require anything."

Lucas didn't really pay them any notice until Elwin turned and opened the door. The tunics they wore were open down the sides with the front and back held together every few inches by very thin strands of silk creating about 2-3 inches of space between the material of the front and back. This meant the entirety of their smooth skin was visible all the way down the sides. He made a mental note to talk to Charlie about that style later that night. Something about it made the two elven boys seem stronger and more confident to be so lightly-clad. 

As they entered the room, small but equally lavish as the rest of palace, Elwin gently closed the thick door behind them. The table was long and rectangular and made of a finely polished oak. It was carved all around the sides with emblems of elvish lore and heritage. On one end was the king's chair which was ornamented with gold leaf around the finials with red velvet over the cushions. On the other end was an almost-equally ornate chair without the gold leaf and with the blue of the prince's office covering the cushions. Lucas was impressed. Dain pulled out Lucas' quasi-throne and pushed it in. 

"I thought pages weren't allowed," Lucas said casually as Elwin and Dain stood a few feet behind the king in his chair looking straight ahead. 

"Someone as well-read as you would surely know that pages in the palace are actual members of the Luminos royal family," Estelar said affectionately towards the two boys. 

"Of course," Lucas replied. "And correct me if I'm wrong but at last count the official members of the Luminos family number over 4000? Or is it five?"

"Four," Estelar said with tighter lips. The Luminos family had ruled the country for thousands of years since its inception. Elwin and Dain seemed unfazed by the prince's slight insult towards them. "Shall we begin?" Estelar asked.

In front of both of them on the thick table were numerous documents, all of which Lucas was familiar with. They began with food supply issues which Lucas deflected towards his colleague of the fields but Estelar wasn't satisfied with that. Estelar seemed rather fractious in his approach which caught Lucas a bit off guard. He almost seemed unprepared. He also did a majority of the talking as Lucas desperately tried to maintain his composure. Lucas knew his shortcomings in negotiations occurred over time. He was good in short bursts but the longer he dealt with someone the more tired he became. There was no way Estelar could know that, at least Lucas hoped not. 

After two hours of getting nowhere Estelar slumped back in his chair. 

"Forgive me, my lord prince," Estelar said, "but I'm afraid I'm not as young as I once was. Elwin, my boy, would you be so kind?"

Elwin approached Estelar who leaned forward. Lucas watched as Elwin, with Dain's help, lifted the back of the ornate chair up and off before carefully setting it against the wall. With no back on his chair the king slid back on his seat and Elwin began to give the king a massage. The king's eyes closed as Elwin, clearly knowing what he was doing, gently massaged the king's shoulders. 

"Have you ever had an elven massage?" Estelar asked Lucas who wasn't really paying attention and had gone back to the numerous pieces of parchment in front of him. 

"No," Lucas said rather flatly. He was just as frustrated as the king with the current state of affairs. 

"Oh you really must try one," Estelar said, clearly relaxing with Elwin's help. "Elwin and Dain's parents run one of the many spas here in Arx," he added. "Since they could move their parents taught them the art."

The king made a motion to Dain who nodded and slowly walked across the room towards Lucas. Elwin stopped the massage so he could assist Dain in lifting the back off of Lucas' chair. 

"I'm fine," Lucas said, but the twin boys lifted off the back anyway and set it gently against the wall. 

"I insist as a matter of hospitality," Estelar said. Lucas made a face but knew better than to create a larger rift between them. He remained silent as both Elwin and Dain began to massage the prince's shoulders. 

Lucas gasped softly at their touch. He'd never been massaged before and the boys were very, very skilled. Lucas' eyes closed as the two boys worked his shoulders, back and arms through his ornate shirt. Lucas' head lolled a bit as all of his tension seemed to disappear at the hands of the two boys. 

"Perhaps we should continue our work," came the voice of the king, but it sounded different. It was almost a chant. The voice bounced around Lucas' head and the same vibration in his body he'd felt when the king spoke to him when they first met was back, but much stronger and much more pleasurable. 

"That's fine," Lucas said, his eyes opening to look at his documents. 

The king began to speak again while Elwin and Dain continued their massage, but again the king's speech was like a chant. It was lower and smoother with a rich tone that was pleasing to the ear. He once again spoke of the supply issue and insisted on a lower rate. The rate was acceptable and would still create much wealth for the kingdom, but it was on the lower end of what Lucas knew he could get. Still, he thought, there would be profit. Lucas agreed to the king's rate and the talks continued as Elwin and Dain's massage continued. 

An hour later Lucas and the king both signed the new agreement. It was very good for the elves and not terrible for the kingdom. Lucas knew that the archprince would be satisfied and it would continue to solidify good relations between the two kingdoms. The lesser prince of the fields wouldn't be happy and nor would the dwarves, but Lucas could deal with them. 

Estelar escorted Lucas back to the main entrance of the palace, once again suggesting a trip to one of the many spas in Arx which Lucas was now very much considering after such a wonderful massage from the twin boys. 

"Or perhaps," Estelar said as Lucas turned around and looked up at him, "perhaps I could send Elwin and Dain to your residence. That would spare you the expense of the spa."

The twin elf boys had followed them at a respectful distance and were giving Lucas very warm smiles.

They shook hands and when they did, the king added, "or you could send your pages to the spa while Elwin and Dain attend to you."

"Not a bad idea," Lucas said as they released the other's hand. Lucas descended the stairs carefully, not wanting to slip on the smooth marble. At the base of the stairs was his carriage with Charlie dutifully holding the door open. Lucas climbed inside and Charlie closed the door before getting in the other side. 

"Did it go well?" Charlie asked as the carriage left the palace and headed for the quite-lavish residence of the lesser prince that he maintained in the city for his usual visits. 

"We got what we needed," Lucas said, sounding a bit disappointed. "I hate politics."

Charlie smiled. 

When the carriage entered the gate of Lucas' residence and stopped under the entrance archway, he stepped out and turned to his page. 

"I'm going to treat you pages to an evening out," Lucas said with a warm smile. "There's apparently quite a nice spa here that I think you'll all enjoy. It's run by members of the royal family."

"Sounds intriguing," Charlie said. "Are you not coming?"

"No," Lucas replied flatly. "The king is providing me with services here as a gift. I didn't want to refuse."

Charlie nodded and went off to tell the other pages. Lucas, meanwhile, entered what was essentially a small palace and made his way to his office to begin his correspondence for the evening. After signing and sealing a small note for the pages to take with them that assured the spa that they should bill the prince for the time the pages spent there, Lucas retired to a small library to do a little more reading on the Luminos family in preparation for some more negotiations. He barely registered the bell ringing for the front door and it took him a second to remember he was alone in the palace. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to answer a door. 

He hurried to the door, still wearing his resplendent clothes he'd arrived in that morning, and opened it. There were Elwin and Dain, patiently waiting. They were wearing some simple sandals but otherwise were simply wearing those open silk tunics. 

"Good evening, my lord prince," Elwin said as both boys bowed. 

"Good evening," Lucas replied, ushering them inside. 

Upon entering the two boy slipped off their sandals and waited for instruction. Lucas looked around the entry hall. 

"Um, where would be a good place?" Lucas asked, not sure what all it would entail.

"My lord's bedroom would be ideal," Elwin replied. 

"Of course," Lucas said, feeling oddly nervous in the boys' presence. He was excited for the massage because it had felt so relaxing in the king's palace, but figured there were more spa treatments he was unfamiliar with that Elwin and Dain were going to show him. 

The three entered the prince's bedroom, much of the furniture having a very fine layer of dust since it hadn't been used in some time. Lucas didn't really notice. He walked over to the side of the large bed and turned around. He made a face to the boys to indicate he was waiting for their instruction. The two smiled at each other and approached. 

"May we?" they asked together, putting their hands to his fine clothing. Lucas nodded and Elwin slowly unzipped the back of his blue embroidered shirt. Elwin was taken with the fine garment as anyone would be. Once it was unzipped, Dain pulled it forward and off of Lucas' hairless torso. The two boys were also fascinated with Lucas' white tights as no elf had yet taken to wearing them since perhaps only the king could afford them. 

They left the tights on and beckoned for Lucas to lay on his back on the bed. Lucas did so as Dain positioned himself by the prince's feet and Elwin by his head. Dain then slowly began to massage Lucas' feet through the soft fabric of the tights as Elwin focused on the smooth bare shoulders and neck of the prince. Lucas closed his eyes as the twin elf boys worked their skilled hands. It felt even better than it had in the palace which was exactly what Lucas was hoping for. 

Elwin's hands gliding up and down the sides of Lucas' slender neck, kneading gently. He then went to the flat, smooth chest of the prince and pushed into the tight muscle under the smooth skin. Elwin had never felt the skin of a teren before and was surprised that it surpassed the softness of the elves. 

Meanwhile, Dain was slowly moving up the thin legs of the prince, moving from leg to leg as he massaged the calves and eventually the thighs through the soft white tights. Elwin's hands found the small nipples of the prince and with a few rubs the twin boys noticed a slight twitch between the legs of the relaxed prince. Elwin's hands moved to the temples of the prince's head and began to sing in a way the king had, but he was singing in elvish and Lucas didn't know what he was saying as he hadn't yet become fluent in the language although he was trying to learn. He didn't give any care to what it was as the boy's voice was soft and soothing like their hands. 

Dain gently tucked his young fingers under the waistband of the soft tights and began a slow process of peeling them down the prince's smooth legs. Lucas' half-hard modest cock popped free as Dain carefully freed the rest of the prince's hairless body. Elwin kept massaging the temples as he sang and Lucas felt a strong, pleasant vibration throughout his whole body. Once Dain had pulled the tights off of the teren's feet, he smoothly pulled off his silk tunic, becoming just as naked as Lucas. 

Lucas suddenly gasped, eyes still closed, as Dain's hot, wet mouth engulfed the teren's cock. Lucas moaned loudly as Dain expertly swirled his tongue around the hard member, savoring the taste of the prince. Elwin's singing grew a bit louder as he kept his hands on the prince's temples. Dain released Lucas's glistening cock which flopped onto his smooth pubic area but it was quickly replaced by the tight heat of Dain's ass. Dain grabbed Lucas' cock and gently impaled himself on it as Lucas felt the boy's tight hole grip his cock. Dain then slowly and methodically rode Lucas while Elwin kept up his work. The twin boys looked at each other intently as they watched the prince writhe on the bed. 

Under the soft skin of Lucas' belly they saw a twitch and Lucas began to whimper as Elwin sang him into a powerful climax, the first Lucas had ever experienced. Then, suddenly, it was all over. 

Dain pulled himself off of Lucas' softening cock and climbed off the bed. He slipped his silk tunic back on as Elwin also climbed off. Lucas, meanwhile, lay there completely naked. His eyes were now open and they were staring up at the ceiling in a blank way. In silence, the twins left the prince's residence as Lucas continued to stare at the ceiling, unsure of what had just happened. 

The next morning Lucas was being dressed by Charlie who was recounting the pages' trip to the spa. It all sounded very proper and the pages all commented about how relaxing it was. When Charlie asked about Lucas' evening, Lucas replied that it was very simple. He said he sat in the hall while two elves massaged him. 

"It was nice and simple," Lucas said as Charlie zipped up the blue embroidered shirt. "Charlie," Lucas said quietly, "I need you to send a message to the king. I require an audience with him."

"Of course, my lord," Charlie said. 

Lucas' entourage was already planning on staying in Arx for a week before returning to Teres and the negotiations between the king and Lucas had concluded, but Lucas needed to speak with him. 

Sometime later Charlie returned saying that king was unavailable until the following afternoon which didn't sit well with the prince at all. For the rest of the day, the pages gave their prince a wide berth as Lucas seemed overly agitated and quarrelsome, as if he needed something but didn't know what it was. Charlie suggested that they request another in-home spa treatment that evening and Lucas snapped at Charlie briefly at the suggestion before apologizing and agreeing. That evening, two young elf women arrived at the palace. When Charlie brought them before Lucas who was waiting in the parlor, Lucas got very upset again, but apologized again before allowing the women to give him a long massage. It felt rather nice but did nothing to calm the prince. 

The next afternoon Lucas ascended the large staircase to the palace alone. The king was not waiting to greet him as he had the first time. Two royal guards opened the doors for the prince who walked in the palace to be greeted by one of the king's sons. The elven prince, about 35 years old, walked the clearly-agitated Lucas to the throne room where the king was seated in his very ornate chair which sat at the top of a white marble staircase, forcing all who wished an audience to look up at him. The elven prince excused himself and let the two be alone.

"My lord lesser prince," Estelar said with a tone that was anything but cordial. "You seem to be in an agitated state."

Lucas stood at the base of the marble stairs, slightly nodding his head and looking down. He was trying to find the words but had no idea what to say. 

"I, um," Lucas began, still not looking up at the seated king, "I would like," he started again, still not sure exactly how to phrase it. Then he stopped and re-settled himself in his blue silk boots. He pulled down the bottom of his embroidered shirt of office which stopped at his waist and found the confidence of his position. "I would like to give your majesty the honor of sending some of your pages back to Teres with me to be part of my household," Lucas said. "They can learn from us in a similar way as terens once learned from the elves so many years ago."

The king smirked slightly. 

"May I ask if you have any particular pages in mind?"

Lucas again found his voice.

"I believe Elwin and Dain would benefit immensely from the privilege," Lucas said as confidently as he could. Estelar couldn't help but smile. 

"My lord prince," Estelar said, leaning forward and looking down at Lucas as if he really was the boy he appeared to be, "let us speak plainly."

Lucas swallowed uncomfortably. 

"Members of the Luminos family do not leave their country to serve another race," he said rather coldly. "However," he added, not warming his voice at all, "I'm sure I'd be able to locate other young elven boys just as...skilled...as Elwin and Dain who would be beyond honored to join your household back in Teres. In fact, I think I'd be able to arrange a rather steady supply for my lord prince," he said, finally leaning back in his throne. Lucas now looked up at him, his face changed as he waited for what he knew was coming. "And the next time you return I hope that our...negotiations...will bear even more fruit."

Lucas bit his lower lip before giving Estelar a slight bow of the head in agreement before turning and swiftly walking out of the throne room as the elven king's smile followed the lesser prince the entire way. 

A few days later Lucas' retinue was loading back up into their wagons and carriages. Charlie and the other pages of the prince were a bit sallow as for the last few days the prince had been "getting to know" the six new elven page boys the king had given him, all aged between 10-13. The procession returned to the palace of the lesser prince where the elven pages were kept separate. They never advised the prince like his teren pages did, but every few days the prince would decide that they would "attend" to him in the evenings. When the pages became older, about 15 or so, they would return to Luminos and were replaced by a new, younger page of about 10. 

In the year 650, Maxwell I resigned after numerous diplomatic follies with the dwarves that were causing angst among some of the other lesser princes. However, his reign had created very good relations with Luminos which had continued to enrich the kingdom. Additionally, Lucas' negotiations had been superb and he was elected Archprince. Lucas took the name Peter in deference to the general who had given his life in the War in the North. As archprince, Peter kept receiving elven pages from Luminos although no one ever really knew why. 

Peter ruled from 650-780 before going on pilgrimage. His successor was also the lesser prince of the elves who took the name Peter II who reigned until 950. His successor, another lesser prince of the elves, John I, ruled until 1107. All of those archprinces kept a small group of young elven boys in their palaces and relations with Luminos remained at an all-time high. In fact, the elves were beginning to gain much wealth themselves as negotiations with their teren counterparts continued to bear much fruit for them, always taking place in Luminos. The elven boys were fulfilling a need the lesser and future archprinces didn't know they had. 

500 years of archprinces elected from a particular section didn't really affect Teres that much, but the dwarves in Vinduli had had quite enough. Understanding the elves and their magic better than the terens ever would, the dwarves decided it was time for drastic action on their part to help break the terens from what they saw as being controlled by the elves to being controlled by the dwarves.

Chapter Text

Around the year 1000 teren society underwent a small change that would end up radically shifting how the nobility functioned. In the first centuries, as was already mentioned, pages were brought into the household of a noble and treated as family. They served the noble and in exchange were treated as advisors and privy to positions of power, should they become available. However, as the wealth of the kingdom continued to grow and its power was truly becoming absolute compared to the other races, even the pages wanted in on the action.

Pages treated their opportunities simply by the prestige of the lord that they served. This meant that lower nobles in the kingdom were having difficulty finding pages because pages wanted to be in service to dukes and the princes. And then even amongst the princes there began to be struggles. The lesser princes of pilgrimage and the mines were far and away the most prestigious and wealthy. They were only eclipsed by the archprince and that really depended on the archprince himself. The other lesser princes, despite having comparable wealth and certainly more than any other noble, were then suffering through the fault of the presumption of their position. 

So, around the year 1000, the lesser prince of the fields, arguably the least respected of all, decided to pay his pages. This was then immediately adopted by his fellow princes who didn't want their pages to go to him and thus a new industry was born. Pages themselves then had to be worthy of the amount of money they were offered and could even shop for a noble should they be particularly skilled in one or more respects. To be a page, then, could potentially provide a teren with considerable wealth, drawing some terens from other professions and industries and into the service industry of the nobility. 

We pick up the story in the year 1100, seven years before John I would go on pilgrimage. 

Daniel was scribbling a letter at his large mahogany desk in his main office when there was a knock at the door. Daniel looked up as the door opened. In his office, he only asked that they knock to announce their presence before letting themselves in. Daniel wasn't a particularly private person. Appearing about 14 with dark brown hair that was soft and parted slightly down the middle so his bangs fell on either side of his forehead, Daniel was the Lesser Prince of the Dwarves, a position he'd held for around a century. He sat at his desk clad in the red embroidered shirt of his office and white tights. His leather shoes that he wore to venture outside his sprawling palace were by the door. 

One of his pages peaked around the door. Daniel cocked an eyebrow in silent expectation. 

"They've arrived, my lord," the page said. Daniel nodded and made a mental note to return to his letter when he could. He strode across the thick rug between his desk and the door and followed the page out into the hallway towards the main reception area of his palace within his castle. Daniel was quite thin and trim with little body fat and lean muscle under his tight clothing. He preferred very tight embroidered shirts that hugged his torso and tapered to his narrow waist. He casually flicked his hair behind his right ear out of habit as he and the page entered the receiving area. Daniel smiled. 

There, waiting to be given their first instructions, were a dozen new pages. They wore tight silk tunics of a faded red color that were cinched at the waist with a white satin belt. The tunics hung just above their knees. 

"Welcome into the service of the lesser prince of the dwarves," Daniel said, looking around at the young-looking faces. "Stewart, here, is the chief page and he will show you to your rooms as well as get you measured for your official page uniforms which include," Daniel cleared his throat, "tights."

The pages gasped and looked at each excitedly as Daniel beamed. 

"Now, off you go and be proud to be in my service," Daniel said as the new pages followed Steward down a different hallway towards the wing of the palace where the pages dwelt. Daniel smiled as he turned to return to his office alone. He would have to find out but he was sure he now had the most pages in his service and was the only lesser prince that could afford to dress his pages in such fine clothing. Then again, he wasn't paying for all of it. 

King Dourbas III of Valas, the capital of Vinduli and home of the dwarves, was contributing large sums of money to Daniel's coffers in order to increase his standing amongst the other princes. There had been some rumors that the archprince was feeling the pull towards pilgrimage and the last few years had Dourbas doing what he could to get Daniel elected. The dwarves had had quite enough of the archprinces coming from the elves and, as the dwarves claimed amongst themselves, being controlled by their addiction to elf boys. 

The dwarves had attempted to complain about this for many many years but the blood feud between the dwarves and elves was more ancient than that of the terens and orcs, meaning no matter what one race said about the other, it was always seen as petty and probably false. 

Dourbas' plan to try to get Daniel on the throne was quite a risk. But given what the elves had seemingly been getting away with for centuries had taken its toll on Vinduli. Many harsher policies had come down that had weakened his kingdom and he'd been emptying their reserves to pay for the teren pages because the dwarves knew that would raise Daniel's stature. Daniel had always been kind to the dwarves but Dourbas' plans were much deeper. 

In Valas, Dourbas sat at his banquet table with his advisors as he was brought correspondence from Teres. One note bore the seal of the lesser prince of the dwarves which was a note of gratitude for the recent gift of more pages. The other note, which bore a different seal, was the response to a note Dourbas had sent quite some time ago. He read the note and a smile crossed his chiseled and bearded face. 

A few months later, Dourbas sent a note to Daniel which stunned the lesser prince. He had secured, through his influence and a considerable raise, the chief page of the Lesser Prince of the Mines. The lesser prince of the mines was considered the natural successor to the current archprince. Three in a row coming from one castle had made the current lesser prince of the elves quite unfavored by the other jealous princes. But this, Daniel thought, this just might put him over the top. He knew it would infuriate his colleague to the north and that made him smile even more broadly. 

To become a chief page was quite an honor and to justify the wages paid, chief pages had to be the very best. To be the chief page in such a prestigious palace was tantamount to being the chief page of the archprince himself. 

Daniel was very excited for the page's arrival and when the day came, Daniel actually felt quite nervous. He wore one of his thicker embroidered red jackets that allowed for more gold to be woven throughout with his tights and pretended to be busy when the page finally arrived. Stewart, Daniel's former chief page, had already left. He was insulted that his position had been usurped and was taken into the household of the Lesser Prince of the Fields. 

Daniel was impatiently waiting in his office when there was a knock on the thick door. Daniel waited but nothing happened. 

"Come in," Daniel finally said, annoyed for a moment until he realized who it was and why they wouldn't know his procedure. The door opened and a rather striking teren strode in. He was as tall as Daniel and appeared the same age. His hair was blond and parted at the side, looking about as soft and long as Daniel's own. He had slightly broader shoulders and a slightly wider waist, but was otherwise quite trim. His chin was sharp and his eyes were bright blue. He was wearing white tights and a violet silk shirt that was open in a V at the top, showing his smooth and slightly-toned chest. On his feet were black leather boots that had a few flicks of mud on them, indicating he'd ridden his own horse. 

"My lord prince," the page said, bowing low at the waist in a very formal way. "My name is Harrison and I pledge myself to your service, to do what must be done and to advise when asked."

Daniel stood up and walked around his desk. His brown eyes met the blues of Harrison's and the two terens looked at each other for a moment in silence.

"At least until another prince offers you more money," Daniel said, smirking a bit. Harrison's face, however, was solemn. 

"My lord," he said, his voice slightly deeper than Daniel's, "I was released from my lord prince of the mines' service. I would not have left him for greater wages without his blessing."

Daniel cocked an eyebrow.

"That doesn't mean he was happy to see me go," Harrison added with a smile. "My former lord is a fair teren."

"That's one word for it," Daniel said, not being particularly fond of his princely colleague. He looked Harrison's attire up and down. "That violet will need to go," he said. "Can't have that around this place."

Harrison smiled. 

"Shall I remove it now?" he asked, putting his slender fingers at the fragile threads at the base of the opening at his chest. Daniel's face didn't change. 

"Yes." he said flatly. 

Harrison's smile stayed affixed to his smooth face as he undid a few more laces before gently pulling the violet silk shirt off of his smooth torso. His tights were situated a bit lower than normal leaving his slightly-defined abdominals all visible. Daniel extended a hand and Harrison dutifully gave him the garment. Daniel looked the page over again before dismissing him from the office. Harrison bowed in deference and walked out of the office as Daniel threw the shirt into a bin by his desk with other discarded papers. 

That same evening, Daniel retired to his lavish bedchamber and Harrison was there already waiting for him. 

"Good evening, my lord," Harrison said, bowing his head. Daniel returned the bow slightly in acknowledgement. "I trust the rest of your day was productive?" Harrison asked, not moving until he determined where exactly Daniel was moving to and then silently strode towards him, his tights-covered feet silent on the soft carpets. 

"Indeed it was," Daniel said. "I think red suits you," he added, noting the faded red silk shirt that Harrison now wore in addition to his white tights. 

"You are very generous, my lord," Harrison said as Daniel stood before one of his many wardrobes. His hands went to the clasps on the front of his red embroidered jacket he'd worn all day but Harrison's beat them to them as he stood behind the prince. 

"My lord," Harrison said quietly, "you should never dare to do such menial things yourself given your position," Harrison added as Daniel smirked and let his hands fall to his sides. Harrison deftly unclasped the front of the shirt and exposed the smooth chest and flat stomach of the prince before carefully sliding it off of his slender arms. Standing now in just his white tights, Daniel waited as Harrison hung the jacket on dressing figure just to their right. Harrison returned to his lord and placed his slender hands on the narrow waist of the prince. With the slightest of pressures, he indicated that Daniel should turn and face him and the prince did. His eyes met the page's for a brief moment before Harrison slowly lowered himself. His fingers slipped under the waistband and pulled the tights meticulously down Daniel's hairless legs until the prince stood naked before him. 

As Daniel lifted his feet slightly to allow Harrison to remove the tights fully, Daniel then placed a soft, yet firm hand on the soft blond hair of his new page who knelt before him. Harrison didn't speak as he let go of the tights and left them on the floor between them. His head turned up just enough to see the hairless member of his new prince before him. Harrison leaned forward and took the entirety of it into his warm mouth. Daniel moaned quietly as Harrison rapidly brought his new lord to erection, clearly an expert in this burgeoning trait of many chief pages. Daniel moaned louder as both of his hands felt the soft blond hair of Harrison's head as the page gently began to fondle the hairless balls of the prince. Harrison's finger slid down between Daniel's balls and hole but he didn't get too close. It was still only the odd teren who allowed himself to be used in the goblin way. 

Daniel's naked body shook in a powerful climax before Harrison slowly let Daniel's glistening cock slip out of his mouth. Harrison picked up the prince's tights in his hand and placed a soft kiss on the smooth pubic area of the prince before planting more in a vertical line up the prince's naked body until they were face to face. 

"You'll do just fine," Daniel said as Harrison closed his eyes in quiet acknowledgement. "But," Daniel said, reaching up to the silk shirt of Harrison and undoing all of the ties until it fell open, exposing the page's chest and stomach, "I think open is a better style for you," he said. "I like the look of you and prefer to see as much as dignity allows," the naked prince said casually. He strode over to his bed and waited until Harrison had neatly folded the tights and pulled back the covers. The naked prince climbed into bed. 

"You're dismissed," he said casually as Harrison bowed and left the room in silence. Later that night before Harrison slipped his own naked body into his bed in his rather lavish room on the other side of the palace, he began to write a note, but didn't finish it. He folded it and placed it in his desk. He didn't want to make too many assumptions yet. 

A few years later, Daniel's time had come. In the year 1107, Daniel and his enormous retinue of pages, with Harrison at the front, left the castle to great fanfare of the terens who lived there who all hoped for Daniel's success in the election. About a week later Daniel made his grand entrance into the capital, showcasing his wealth and power to the crowds who were waiting to find out who their next leader would be after John's pilgrimage. Daniel was elected on the first vote and chose to keep his own name.

For the first time in history, a lesser prince of the dwarves had been elected to the position of archprince. Daniel's first act was to name Harrison as the new Lesser Prince of the Dwarves. Harrison had more than earned it over the last few years. 

In 1115, Harrison arrived with his own retinue of pages in the capital. He was making one of his frequent visits to the archprince who had insisted upon it. Daniel was working steadily on making things easier on Dourbas and the dwarves and Harrison was his right hand teren for the job. Dourbas was continuing to fund the pages for Harrison, who was initially funded by Dourbas as well. Harrison was a frequent visitor to Valas as well, already becoming known as what appeared to be a hard working lesser prince, something that was becoming uncommon and was endearing him to the public. Despite the fact that Daniel had no intentions of pilgrimage any time soon, Harrison was no doubt already building a case to become his successor and give the dwarves the same kind of security that the elves had enjoyed for centuries. 

Harrison left his pages behind and walked up the grand staircases towards the archprince's residence. Daniel was in his bedchamber which was 10 times the size of the one he'd had at his last palace. Harrison entered softly as Daniel stood with his back to him. He was clad in the white of his high office and was looking at himself in the mirror. Harrison slid in behind him and placed his familiar hands on the familiar narrow waist of his former employer. He leaned in and kissed Daniel on his cheek. 

"What troubles you, your grace?" Harrison asked as his hands moved south. Daniel's white embroidered shirt was quite short with his white tights below it and Harrison's hands began to move over the soft fabric as his lips nuzzled the ear of the archprince. Daniel put his hands over Harrison's as they rested on his hips. 

"This business about the mines," Daniel said. "I don't see how it will play well," he added as Harrison planted a gentle kiss on the archprince's neck. "I think it's too much," Daniel added as Harrison continued to kiss the neck. 

"King Dourbas is close to death," Harrison said between kisses, "and we both know his son is more determined than he is," he added. 

"What are you implying?" Daniel asked as Harrison's kissing continued unabated. 

"We need his money," Harrison said. Daniel suddenly turned around and the kissing stopped as their eyes met. 

"We?" Daniel asked. "You mean you."

"Yes me," Harrison said, stepping back a step and putting his hands on his hips. "To keep my position where it is I need his money and you need me."

"Oh really?" Daniel asked again with half a laugh, crossing his arms across his chest.

"What would the people say if they found out that the dwarves basically bought you your election?" Harrison asked. "That would jeopardize both of us and you know it," he added flatly. Daniel's face went a bit red. Harrison's face immediately softened and he stepped close. He put his soft hand on Daniel's soft cheek. "We're only talking about some control over the mines. They're still ours," he added before capturing Daniel's lips with his own while his other hand cupped the archprince's soft package through his tights. Daniel couldn't help but moan as Harrison easily manipulated his body like he'd always done and Daniel's mind soon followed. 

A few minutes later both princes were naked on the bed, each having climaxed powerfully. They lay together, wrapped in the other's warm, naked body. 

"What happens when Joseph finds out?" Daniel asked, referring to the lesser prince of the mines. 

"He'll have to deal with it the same as when I left his service," Harrison replied, turning and kissing the archprince as Daniel squeezed Harrison's slightly-larger cock. Harrison moaned. "Mmm as long we control the narrative, it'll be fine," he added before the two stroked the other to another climax. 

But that didn't happen. 

No one knew exactly how he found out, but a few months later the lesser prince of the mines leaked that the archprince was thinking of ceding control of the rich northern mines to the dwarves. There was nothing Daniel could do to spin it. The thought of the richest mines in the world going even partially back to the dwarves was unthinkable given how many terens had worked and died there before the rebellion. The idea that sovereign teren territory could be under foreign control was obscene to the teren population. It was a scandal beyond words and many in the kingdom were calling for war with Vinduli in addition to the resignation of the archprince. 

Unable to rule the people with any confidence, Daniel went on pilgrimage in 1117, reigning only 10 years. While he was still en route to the Sacred Forest, King Dourbas III died which assuaged the population from going to war as the new king denounced the idea of having any control over the mines and pleaded for forgiveness in what appeared to be a very sincere act of contrition. In another stunning move, Harrison, the lesser prince of the dwarves, was not allowed to attend the election for fear of manipulation. Joseph, for having discovered the treachery, was elected immediately and took the name John II. 

His first act was to force Harrison and the entire household of pages in his employ on pilgrimage. It was a decision that showed John's strength and commitment to the security of the kingdom. The elves were assuaged when he took the name John II since John I was one of their own corrupted archprinces. 

Archprince John II appeared about 15 with dark brown hair and brown eyes. He was taller and broader than Daniel and was a fan of wearing his white embroidered jacket of office mostly open with it being secured just above his navel. He liked to show off his defined pectorals as he strode through the archprince's castle. 

In the year 1200, John II discovered that the elves were entrancing their lesser princes. The dwarves were familiar with the ancient magic that could only be wielded by the royal family which involved chanting and touching to implant suggestions in the minds of others. For such treachery over so long a period, John II issued severe financial restrictions upon Luminos which crippled its economy for nearly a century. However, with that scandal dominating everyone's attention, what they didn't know was at the same time, John II ceded partial control of the northern mines to the dwarves. 

He had been the true agent all along.

Dourbas III had been bribing Joseph when he was prince of the mines for years. It was Joseph that had suggested sending Harrison to Daniel because he knew that Harrison was "a hard teren to say no to". Harrison, blithely unaware he was just a patsy, was getting his suggestions from the dwarves to feed to Daniel that were also being sent to Joseph. When the time was right, Joseph leaked the information and thus condemned Daniel, his wannabe successor Harrison, and placed Joseph firmly in the archprince's throne. 

However, the succeeding dwarf kings after Dourbas who were all made aware that they basically controlled the mighty archprince, began to grow in greed as was all-too-common for dwarves. Despite John doing almost everything he could to do what they wanted without raising too much suspicion about the entire affair, the new king of the dwarves, Dourbas VI, was impossible to placate and did the unthinkable. He sent an official messenger to the capital, bypassing the lesser prince of the dwarves, who delivered a public proclamation that Archprince John II was to go to Valas to have an audience with King Dourbas VI. 

The idea that a teren archprince would be summoned by an inferior kingdom was a grave insult. The fact that John went stunned the population. He had no choice. 

John II left the capital at night to avoid the crowds and suspicion but it didn't help. He didn't know how it was going to end up but he had invested decades and decades into this affair and couldn't stop now. He traveled lightly to avoid more suspicion in the countryside and to have as few witnesses as possible when he did arrive in Valas. He took only his most trusted pages with him. He took no guards as he knew the dwarves wouldn't be so stupid as to assassinate the archprince. 

Leaving his pages behind, John entered the mighty fortress of Valas alone. He was wearing the white embroidery of his office and white tights with white silk boots. His jacket was mostly open as he preferred it. He walked with all the confidence an archprince should walk with even though he was flanked by dwarf soldiers. 

The throne room in Valas was quite stark and simple. Everything was stone and cut in straight, geometric patterns. It was quite bejeweled in certain areas but was otherwise very utilitarian. The dwarves cared little for such things as they preferred wealth that created power rather than softness. And John, clad in his white silks and tights, embodied everything the dwarves despised about wealth. 

King Dourbas VI sat on his throne as John stood before him. In silence, the king nodded to the two guards who stood on either side of the archprince and they roughly tore the fine white clothing from his body until John stood naked. John was shocked into silence and immediately covered his hairless soft cock as he stood shivering in the cold room. 

"We made you," Dourbas said in a growl. "Without us, you're that." 

John was breathing fast, not sure exactly what to do. 

"It's simple, teren," Dourbas said with a confidence the dwarves hadn't had with terens for a thousand years, "either give us full control of the mines or I'll expose you for what you are and you'll leave this world in disgrace. Now get out."

John looked around but the guards wouldn't give him back his clothes. John's eyes were wide as Dourbas chuckled. John turned and walked naked out of the room and through the entire fortress to the jeers and insults of the population. His pages waiting for him were in absolute shock. 

"Take me to the fortress," John said in a cracked voice as his pages dressed him in some spare clothes he took with him. 

Some days later the archprince arrived at the fortress of the lesser prince of defense and told him everything in confidence. His advice was simple and direct: go on pilgrimage. 

In the year 1290, John II went on pilgrimage after a long reign. His summons and trip to Valas would be mostly what he was known for. 

In the confidence of the council chamber, the lesser prince of defense informed the others of all that had transpired over the last 700 years with the elves and dwarves. On the first ballot, the lesser prince of defense was elected. He took the name Adrian II...

Chapter Text

After his election and choosing of name, Adrian II, the new archprince made sure the news of his election was immediately taken to Arx and Valas. He wanted the other races to understand what was about to happen. He asked rather forcefully that the lesser prince of the elves go on pilgrimage so as to assuage any sense of corruption which the prince agreed to. Adrian then appointed new lesser princes of defense, dwarves, and elves, all of whom were generals. 

His next act was to summon the seven armies of Teres. Since the War in the North, the military had been divided in such a way that each lesser prince and the archprince oversaw the garrisons within a certain territory. It allowed the lesser prince of defense to work with the other princes more closely as well as, in theory, keep all princes on semi-regular military footing. It hadn't really achieved the latter. 

The lesser princes of pilgrimage and the mines in particular had given little focus to it. They were then asked to go on pilgrimage as well as Adrian decided to fully clean house in regards to the nobility. Two more generals were appointed and the kingdom mustered for war. Another decree of the new archprince was that all pages would be conscripted into military service. All terens were technically eligible to fight with only a small percentage as active military (although even that small percentage was a larger fighting force than the elves and dwarves combined). In times of war, the archprince could levy particular professions and groups depending on the scope and scale of the war. In this case, Adrian was wanting to purify the nobility and the page system was clearly showing signs of major corruption. Additionally, he conscripted all farmers since no food would be produced to be shipped to their enemies. And due to the nature of the scandal, many many more terens willingly joined the fight as well. 

The army that was assembled shook the ground as it marched. The armor worn by the soldiers glistened in the sun and was as ornate as it was practical. The terens had become quite adept at armor making. Adrian divided his forces. He would command the army that attacked Vinduli and the lesser prince of defense would attack Luminos. By the time the full force was assembled, armed and ready, almost a year had passed since his election and word of it had reached the other kingdoms. 

Neither the elves nor the dwarves were ever ready for total war. They kept up their own militaries to be sure but they were mainly directed at each other in relentless border clashes. Neither would ever dream of attacking the terens for the loss of life would be terrible. Thus the only thing that both kingdoms did was fall back. 

As the teren armies crossed the Ferox River and entered both kingdoms at about the same time, they met no resistance. The garrisons that were posted there had long since retreated. The terens left defenseless villages alone as their quarrel was not with the ordinary citizens scattered throughout the country, but they knew that there would be considerable civilian death. 

The armies encamped around each capital, Valas and Arx, forming a thick seal of armor that choked both capital cities. Both cities had provisions for a siege, but due to their large populations, those provisions would only last so long. And the terens had nothing but time. 

The sieges of Arx and Valas lasted for five years. The terens simply remained there, unfazed by time. Inside both cities, starvation reigned supreme. Thousands of civilians would die while both kings relentlessly sued for peace but Adrian refused each request. This was a statement. 

After five years, both armies broke camp and marched back to Teres. Not a single teren died in the sieges yet the impact of the "war" would resinate in the other races for generations to come. 

The remainder of Adrian's reign was dedicated to restoring the reputation of the archprince as well as the other lesser princes. Rumors had swirled much about what the nobility and their pages were getting up to and Adrian refused any pages and had hoped his fellow princes would follow suit, which many did for a time. Adrian worked tirelessly as archprince, encouraging the lesser princes to become more involved in the running of their respective areas. One of the problems was that the sheer number of terens meant that the princes and nobles could delegate their responsibilities which led to boredom which was then filled with other...activities. These activities were seen in a general negative light by the majority of the population who worked to better themselves and the kingdom and had no time for such things. It was also still a reminder as to how terens were treated by orcs and goblins, to a degree. 

Adrian II went on pilgrimage in the year 1400 after having mostly succeeded in his task of purifying the throne and bringing Luminos and Vinduli to heel in a very harsh way. It was said later that the reign of Adrian II began the early peak of the High Age for the kingdom, a time of working archprinces that would last for thousands of years. 

Chapter Text

Thomas spurred on his horse a bit as the small road he'd been traveling on began to merge with the main road that led to the capital. The road was already teaming with terens despite the early morning hours. Wagons, carriages, terens on foot and horse, all moving in various directions as the capital slowly began to take shape in the distance. Thomas had taken his favorite path from his castle to the capital which skirted the shores of Crystal Lake. He had paused as many terens do to pay homage and memory to the brave terens who had died on that famous battlefield so long ago. 

He had kept to that trail which goes all around the lake until it would've begun to take him in the wrong direction before turning north and east towards the capital. As he drew nearer the land got thicker and thicker with dwellings, shops, traders, and guilds. Long ago had the population swelled past the walls of the castle since the terens had no fear of enemy invasion. The closer Thomas' horse drew to the massive walls the more lavish and ornate the buildings got. 

Eventually he passed through the towering and multiple archways that comprised the central gate to the capital's walls. As he did so, a bright blast of trumpets blew and Thomas' face grew a bit red as he knew they were for him. It was the year 1400. Adrian II had gone on his pilgrimage and Thomas, the Lesser Prince of the Fields, was arriving for the election. 

Inside the capital walls, the ornate nature of the buildings and their size could simply not be matched anywhere else in the world. While the walls of the capital were quite encompassing, the number of terens that lived outside the walls dwarfed the number within. Such was the cost to live inside the famous walls. The phrase, "inside the walls" added tremendous value to one's property and stature. If it wasn't for his position, Thomas would've felt almost out of place. 

He rode alone, very much following in the example of more simplicity that Adrian had championed. He wore thick leather riding boots that were flecked with mud, but were the least-flecked of any pair he had since he spent a majority of his time in the fields. His skin was tanned due to that and his hair was short and dark brown with dark brown eyes. He appeared about 14 with a sturdy and ruddy figure from many hours of laboring. He wore a very fine green embroidered shirt to signify his office, but it wasn't his. It had belonged to his predecessor and Thomas only wore it for formal occasions. He also wore a faded pair of white tights which was the only pair he owned and only spent the money after he was elevated to his position and was privately reprimanded for not having any by his fellow princes. He'd been the prince of the fields for almost a century and the tights were certainly showing their age. 

Arriving at the main palace within the capital, Thomas entered the massive building which never ceased to dazzle him with its beauty and size. He was taken by a member of the palace household to his rooms for the duration of his stay and was informed that they were still waiting on the lesser prince of pilgrimage to arrive before the election could begin. 

A few days later, the six lesser princes finished their initial conversations in a large social hall before adjourning to the simple council chamber to vote. The other princes had long since removed their boots or shoes as was custom when wearing tights since the tights were footed. Thomas, however, kept his boots on. This was because the years of walking around in footed tights at formal occasions had worn so many holes in the soles of his tights that he'd cut the footed portion off at the ankle. Were he to remove his boots, he'd be walking barefoot which would not be proper at all in this setting. The other princes were too polite to chastise Thomas for his seeming modesty. The other princes had also arrived each with a single page. A sign that the reforms of Adrian were already beginning to fragment. 

Thomas sat in his chair for what he knew would be his first and last election. He'd not really felt the urge to go on pilgrimage, but it had been clear to him in recent years that Adrian's desire for working nobility was a tall order and he was struggling to maintain those reforms in the one place it probably would've been easiest. Not that his determination was lessened, but it was a struggle that he simply didn't have the appetite for. He'd never been a teren that had sought riches or power like so many did. He was a hard worker and was elevated into positions of power for his skills alone. His elevation to his current office by Adrian after his predecessor had gone on pilgrimage shocked Thomas to his core and Thomas had ever since been the strongest voice for Adrian's visions. 

As the lesser prince of the mines, the longest-tenured prince, gave his formal remarks before voting, Thomas' mind was elsewhere. To be a Lesser Prince of the Fields meant that one would go on pilgrimage as the Lesser Prince of the Fields. It was said that of all the princes, the Lesser Prince of the Fields was the one who actually had to be competent. That was what the lower classes said, anyway. The lower classes knew that within the nobility, promotion was seldom due to competence. Thomas also knew his history and knew that his was the only office to never be elected to wear the white of the archprince. 

Thomas cast his vote for the lesser prince of the mines who he genuinely thought would be the best choice out of all of them. He placed it in the cylinder and the prince he had voted for turned the cylinder upside down and removed the cover. The prince read the votes to himself before announcing the totals. 

"Mines-1, Fields-5."

Thomas didn't register what had been said and when he looked up and saw the other five princes smiling at him, it slowly dawned on him what had just happened. 

"Congratulations, your grace," the prince of the mines said as the other princes applauded softly. "By what name do you wish to be called?"

Thomas' voice caught in his throat and an odd gurgling sound came out. He swallowed and simply pointed to himself. 

"Archprince Thomas III," the prince of the mines said as they applauded again. 

At the sound of the applause, the door to the small anteroom off the chamber opened seemingly on its own and Thomas stood up, his legs shaking, and walked over to the room. The door closed silently as the member of the palace household offered his own congratulations to the new archprince. 

Hanging on a rack by the wall were six white embroidered jackets, no doubt each sized for the princes who were all of different heights and sizes. 

"If you'll allow me, your grace," the page said as he faced Thomas and made to unclasp his green embroidered shirt. 

"No," Thomas suddenly said. The page bowed in deference and stepped back to select the right white jacket to replace it. "No," Thomas said again. The page looked confused but Thomas' face made it clear. He looked so uncomfortable that the page seemed to get it. The page then glanced down at the faded tights and boots. 

"Perhaps, then, your grace, we simply change those?"

Thomas smiled for the first time. He nodded. 

Thomas sat in a chair and pulled off his boots as the page opened a drawer and selected a beautiful new pair of bright white tights. Thomas put his boots aside and the page made no expression as he saw the state of the tights Thomas wore. He held the tights at the ready while Thomas pulled off his tights. He stood temporarily exposed as the page handed him the new pair. He pulled them on and couldn't help but enjoy the sensation as they felt so good against his smooth, tanned skin. He secured the waistband up under his green top and the page smiled and nodded. 

Thomas exited the room and the other princes looked confused. 

"Was nothing to your size, your grace?" one of the princes asked. 

"Not yet," Thomas lied. "A mix up. Luckily the color doesn't make the teren, right?" 

They all smiled and once again congratulated him. 

His announcement was treated with shock but jubilation around the kingdom. He was a very respected prince and seemed the perfect successor to Adrian II who was also very popular.

Thomas made his way to the throne room which was the central feature of the palace. He'd never actually been inside it and his breath was taken away. It was a towering hall which was shaped in a cathedral style with thick marble pillars that ran down the central aisle. It was bedecked in stained glass which depicted motifs from all around the kingdom. At the far end, wreathed in what appeared to be a golden sunburst from behind, was a mighty throne made of white marble and accented with marble that had been colored in gold, green, violet, blue, red, and black. Behind all of that were towering stained glass windows that depicted Thomas I along with the six original lesser princes. 

Thomas stood at the far end looking down at the impressive room. He then left and found one of his pages. 

A few weeks later, the throne of the lesser prince of the fields was delivered to the capital. It was ornate as all princely thrones were, but nowhere near what was made for the archprince. Thomas placed the throne at the entrance to the throne room and used that for the first few years of his reign. It wasn't any kind of false humility. It was just the only way Thomas felt comfortable enough to focus on his task. It would be several years before he ever wore the white of his office. Eventually, he would sit on the throne of the archprince, but only reluctantly. He didn't want anything outwardly to affect the reforms he was continuing to push. 

Thomas was instrumental in greater methods of food production which allowed for more trade and slightly lower prices which helped repair relations with the other races after Adrian II's sieges. Thomas reigned for 200 years, going on pilgrimage in the year 1600. 

When his pilgrimage was announced, the working classes all around the kingdom mourned it. Never before had they had such a champion on the throne. Normally, the pilgrimage of the archprince was done with a bit of fanfare. There was a simple procession from the capital to the castle of the lesser prince of pilgrimage. For Thomas, the streets (outside the walls) were lined with workers who followed their beloved archprince across the kingdom. All throughout the kingdom the working class joined in the procession to bid a fond farewell to this "working archprince". 

Chapter Text

The Lesser Prince of Pilgrimage who had personally escorted the extremely popular Thomas III through the Sacred Forest was then elected as his successor. He became known as Simon I as an homage to the first Lesser Prince of the Mines whom he greatly admired. Simon I and his successor, Simon II, who was also the Lesser Prince of Pilgrimage when he was elected, worked very diligently to continue the legacy of Thomas III despite their more affluent lifestyles and predilections. They did allow and encourage pages to return to the palaces as many nobles were complaining about a lack of advisors and the like. 

In the year 2050, for the third time in a row, the Lesser Prince of Pilgrimage was elected. He kept his own name: James. As the lesser prince of pilgrimage he had been working very diligently on a radical reform of the pilgrimage system. His chief page had been instrumental in his plans which Simon II had been briefed about but had told him that he thought it was an incomplete plan and one that could potentially lead to class issues in the future. Now that Simon was gone and James was on the highest throne in the land, he appointed his chief page as his successor and the two of them began to implement their reforms. 

For as long as the kingdom had been established, every teren (with rare exception) went on pilgrimage through the sprawling castle of the lesser prince of pilgrimage. He and his enormous staff were responsible for the official record keeping and when the new terens emerged from the Divine Lake, they had the basic intuition of going where their forebear had left, namely the castle. However, the sheer number of terens going back and forth was causing backlogs and confusion as noble terens who went on pilgrimage had their future terens possibly working in the fields. In teren society, upward mobility was often seen as based on merit rather than the teren that preceded you. But as times changed and comfort grew, noble terens didn't like the idea of spawning terens that would be in the lower classes. 

So the plan was laid out in a rather simple fashion. Under the supervision of the lesser prince of pilgrimage, multiple new pilgrimage "routes" would be established along the Sacred Forest in addition to the castle. Many would be available for any and all terens going on pilgrimage. However, others would be more...exclusive. For example, the castle of the lesser prince himself would be used for high nobility only regardless of their financial state. That would ensure that the terens that emerged after them would make their way to the castle and would then be more or less placed into the upper classes. The other routes would have high costs associated with them that the lower nobility and upper middle classes could possibly afford to use. 

It wasn't really a secret what was going on and the lower classes weren't exactly thrilled with it, but then again, many terens in the lower classes and the military really didn't have much regard for the teren nobles except being a beneficiary to their wealth from time to time. Workers bred more workers who liked to work and the softer, more elegant nobles bred more nobles who liked those things as well. 

***

Noah gently stepped down the steps of his carriage inside the courtyard of the palace of the archprince. He wore a fine gold embroidered shirt symbolizing his office as the lesser prince of pilgrimage and very new, bright white tights that hugged every curve of his slender legs. He appeared about 14 with dark blond hair. As he descended the steps, he saw the soft red runner that had been rolled to the steps of his carriage which allowed him to not wear any shoes over his footed tights. He took little notice, though, as this was the reception he was used to while visiting his former employer, now archprince. 

Two young-looking pages in very tight, white satin shirts that were laced all up the front were waiting for him. They wore what appeared to be silk tights that were possibly semi-elastic, but unlikely given how they folded slightly when they walked. Those were also quite tight and their attire really showcased their trim figures. They bowed low to the lesser prince as the prince's own pages descended from the carriage on the other side. The two pages of the archprince silently escorted the lesser prince into the palace while the lesser prince's own pages saw to the unloading of his many bags. 

As they entered the palace, Noah was struck by the number of pages, all dressed similar to the two escorting him, that were moving around the palace working, cleaning, and otherwise engaged in matters of state that had been delegated to them by the archprince. Being a former page of the archprince, Noah was well aware of the archprince's affinity for pages. He himself had a large number as well, though not anywhere near as many. 

The two pages led Noah down a long hallway until they stood outside a partially-open door that was intricately carved. One knocked softly and Noah heard the archprince's voice from within that beckoned them inside. As they pushed open the heavy door, Noah preceded the two pages who followed him inside. Archprince James was leaning on a large desk with his back to Noah and flanked by another half-dozen pages, again dressed in tight satins and silks. The archprince's white embroidered shirt of office was tight with some puffs on the shoulders that had come into recent fashion and white tights. Noah's eyes hovered on the perfect outline of the archprince's posterior which was snuggled by his tights. 

"Your grace, may we present the Lesser Prince of Pilgrimage," one of the pages said who had escorted Noah from his carriage. The archprince turned around. He appeared about 15 with similar color and style of hair, although his was a bit longer and was parted so his bangs hung down to one side. His embroidered shirt was partially open at the top and his flat, smooth chest was partially visible. 

"My lord prince!" he said with a smile, walking away from the desk and embracing his former chief page. "It's so good to see you again."

"Your grace," Noah replied with a bow. He almost called him by his name but there were pages present. James grasped Noah's slightly-toned arms through the rich fabric of his shirt and smiled at him before he realized there were eight pages in the room. 

"You are dismissed," the archprince said kindly to his pages. "I believe we're near the changing hour, anyway."

The pages all bowed in unison before exiting the office in silence. 

"You kept the changing hour here as well?" Noah asked as the door closed and James offered him one of the very large, soft chairs on the other side of the large office. 

"Not at first," James said as he sat down and crossed his tights-covered legs. "I had to establish myself here in the capital palace. Make sure I didn't step on any toes, that sort of thing," James said with a smile. "As I recall, you rather enjoyed the changing hour," he smirked. Noah returned the smile. 

"Indeed I did," Noah said. "I have kept your tradition in your former residence to the delight of most of the pages."

"Most?" James asked.

"You know how pages can be," Noah replied. 

"Not as well as you, I'm afraid," James said. "You must update me on our progress with the new routes," James said, adjusting himself a bit in his chair. 

"Progress is proceeding well," Noah said. "We're building as fast as we ever have and the new routes are already being used and providing me, and the capital of course, with new sources of income."

"Excellent," James said, smiling broadly. "Hard to believe it's already been 60 years since my election," James said absent-mindedly as he looked down the large office. "But I tell you," he said, turning back to Noah, "it's just as wonderful as I could've imagined."

"I would hope so," Noah said, "to have all of this and the power as well. To affect such good change for our kingdom."

James smirked. 

"Is this a changed Noah I hear?" James asked. "Do I need to call the official record keepers here immediately and declare the year 2110 as the year Noah became a teren of the people?"

Noah cast a look at the archprince that made James smile. 

"Have you had any pushback about your household at all?" Noah asked, a bit concerned. 

James waved a hand dismissively. 

"Oh you know, the fields and defense are always holier than thou when it comes to such things. I think they're simply angling for election down the road."

"Perhaps," Noah said, a bit cautiously.

"Adrian was a long time ago," James added. 

"But Thomas wasn't," came a swift reply. 

"Archprince Thomas III went on pilgrimage 500 years ago," James said. 

"We're not elves or dwarves," Noah said, "we're terens. And to terens, 500 years could be like 5."

James narrowed his eyes. 

"You dare quote me, to me?" he asked before a smile crept across his face again. 

"Wise words I try to live by," Noah added. "I think we're doing great work. I just want to keep you on the throne until you decide to leave."

There was a knock at the door and James beckoned the knocker inside. Noah turned as well as he saw a page. 

"The changing is complete, your grace," the page reported. The page was barefoot now and wore a white silk briefs that were quite snug. His shirt had been replaced with a white silk vest that was open and thus showed the front of his smooth, flat torso. 

"Thank you, Ethan," the archprince replied. The door closed and he looked at Noah. "See, it's not quite the same as what I did in the old place."

"True," Noah replied. "You added a vest."

The two princes laughed together before rising from their chairs. As if knowing he was there, the door opened from the outside as one of the newly-changed pages held the door open for the two princes. All around the palace now the pages continued their work but dressed in the briefs and vest. However, this hour of the evening meant that little important work was still being carried out. James and Noah walked side by side down the hallway as two pages followed closely behind. 

"I trust your own pages are preparing your suite for your stay?" the archprince asked as they came to a large, sweeping flight of stairs. They slowly began to climb it. 

"I certainly hope so," Noah said. "That's what I'm paying them to do."

At the top of the stairs from the right came one of the lesser prince's pages. He was barefoot and wearing a faded gold satin tunic that barely covered his most private area and was open on the sides and cinched with a white silk cord. 

"Your rooms are nearly ready, my lord," he said. 

James leaned in towards Noah's ear and whispered. 

"I like the tunics," he said, "but I'd like it more if you stayed with me this evening."

"Thank you, Cooper," Noah said to his page. "I'll be staying with the archprince this evening so you'll attend to me in his residence. Please let the others know."

Cooper bowed and turned and James saw the back of the tunic folded over the young teren's plump posterior hanging just below the orbs. 

James put his arm around his former page and the two continued to walk towards the lavish residence of the archprince.

Inside the enormous bedchamber of the archprince, James and Noah relaxed for a bit and continued their conversations about the new pilgrimage routes before summoning their chief pages. Ethan and Cooper both entered the bedchamber clad in their evening wear. Slowly and carefully the pages removed the ornate tops of the princes as the clothing was quite delicate. The princes stood side by side while the pages carefully hung the garments on beautiful racks designed solely to hold those types of embroidered garments. Then, while the princes steadied themselves against the side of the large bed so as to keep their balance, Ethan and Cooper gently removed their white tights. This was a delicate procedure to stop the tights from creasing, wrinkling, or losing their elasticity. It was something pages had to be quite adept at. 

The two princes were now fully naked as the pages carefully laid out the tights so as to prevent any unnecessary wear from coming to them. The two princes looked each other over as their hairless, soft bodies glistened in the light of the many candles and the fires that were lit in the room. Noah then got a smile on his face that James had seen before. Noah turned to the archprince, clasped his hand, and led him over to one of the thick sofas that adorned one end of the chamber. The two princes lounged their naked bodies on the sofa as James clicked his fingers which summoned Ethan over. Noah did the same and Cooper elegantly joined them, standing next to Ethan. 

"I think we'd prefer a little entertainment this evening before we retire," the archprince said to Ethan. Ethan's face didn't change at all. Cooper looked at his prince and Noah nodded. The pages, both appearing about 12, turned to face each other. Ethan, being the chief page to the archprince, outranked Cooper socially and thus took the lead. Ethan unclasped the belt around the very short tunic that Cooper was wearing and let it fall to the ground. He then pulled the tunic up and off Cooper's thin body. Standing naked before the naked princes and Ethan, Cooper slowly lowered himself to his knees. He pulled the silk briefs down Ethan's pale legs until they pooled around his bare feet and took Ethan's soft cock into his mouth. Ethan moaned and his hands went to Cooper's brown hair as Cooper gently sucked his fellow page. 

The two naked princes watched casually as Cooper blew Ethan to a powerful climax. As Ethan shuddered, Cooper let the wet cock fall from his mouth and stood up, slipping Ethan's vest off and letting Ethan join the others in full nakedness. The two pages then embraced and began to softly kiss each other before pushing deeper, their tongues exploring the mouth of the other as they held each other and their small cocks grew to full mast. Ethan reached down and began to stroke Cooper's hard cock while the princes snuggled close to each other, stroking the other's growing cock as they watched their pages entertain them. 

Both pages shuddered in another climax but they didn't stop as their princes hadn't told them to. Still kissing, they lowered themselves onto the thick carpeting and maneuvered themselves into a 69 position which delighted the princes who continued to softly stroke the other. When both pages climaxed again at about the same time, the princes applauded and dismissed the pages. Ethan and Cooper, breathing heavily and a bit hazy, bowed to their princes before placing their skimpy garments back on their bodies and leaving the chamber. 

"It's always nice for them to see each other again," James said to Noah as he softly kissed his former page. 

"They always put on a good show. And who knows, they might both be princes one day," Noah said, returning the kiss. 

James broke the kiss and put his hands on Noah's face. He looked at the lesser prince before guiding Noah's head towards his hard, modest cock. Noah pretended to sigh.

"Just like old times," he said as he slid off the couch and took the archprince's cock into his mouth. James moaned as Noah provided him with an excellent blowjob. Noah only hoped that before he left, James would return the favor. Cooper or any of his pages gladly would but he always enjoyed the idea of being pleasured by the archprince. Noah knew just how James liked it and the archprince was climaxing in relative short order. 

As Noah released James' softening cock he looked up at him. 

"Do you have Ethan, or any of the others...you know..." Noah asked carefully. James looked down at him. 

"That's a one-way ticket to early pilgrimage if that ever got out," James said with a half-smile. "Plus, none of my pages are as...gifted...as you."

Noah saw his opening. He grabbed both hands of the archprince and pulled him off the sofa. He placed his hands on James' narrow hips and kissed him deeply as he slowly moved him towards the bed. James knew what he was doing and it had been so long he let him continue. James fell backwards onto the bed with Noah on top of him and the two kept kissing as they slid towards the middle. Noah broke the kiss and looked down at James one last time. James nodded. Noah bit his lower lip with excitement and placed his modest cock at the entrance of the archprince. He slowly pushed in as James moaned loudly. Luckily the walls and door were too thick so his attending pages would hear nothing. He hoped.

Noah pushed in and slowly began to work the archprince, using him in the goblin way. James clenched around Noah's cock and sent the lesser prince into fits of pleasure as he thrusted in and out. Despite numerous climaxes from them both, Noah persisted for a long time until James finally had had enough. Noah pulled out and nearly collapsed onto the archprince as they both tried to catch their breath. That's how they fell asleep, with Noah laying on James. 

Over the next several years, rumors began to swirl about James and his pages. The stories of the changing hour and the total number of pages were starting to cause a minor scandal in some sectors of the kingdom who had been getting used to archprinces whose behavior they could respect and even emulate. Then, interlaced through all of that, came the rumor that the archprince enjoyed having his pages use him in the goblin way. Even the faint whisper of such an allegation that, given the archprince's other tendencies, didn't strike many as completely unfathomable, could seal the end of a reign. And so it did here. 

In the year 2140, James decided to go on pilgrimage after a reign of 90 years. His main achievement would remain the new pilgrimage routes which were steadily becoming mainstream. Given his involvement in those and the need for their final completion, Noah was elected as the next archprince and took the name Andrew II. He wanted to distance himself in name from the rumors that had engulfed his predecessor and former employer. Of course, no one ever found out that it was Noah that had started the rumors so he could attain the office he'd coveted so much...

Chapter Text

Lawrence paid no attention to the courtesy nods and bows of his pages who passed him in the hallway. He seldom cared what they did as he'd inherited the large household from his predecessor, Archprince George. Lawrence, appearing around 15 with dark brown hair and fair skin, fairly tall with a slender, lean body that helped command respect in a physical way, was on his way to the great library in his massive palace in the capital. 

Lawrence, formerly the lesser prince of the mines, loved history. During his long tenure in the north overseeing the thriving gem trade he would spend many hours every day immersed in the ever-lengthening story of teren history. The peacetime throughout the world was benefitting all the races, the terens most of all. It was becoming common now for archprinces to reign for longer and longer with his predecessor, George, reigning from 3231-3560. Every archprince since Adrian II had been enormously popular with either the entire kingdom or a large majority. Even James I, who had the shortest reign, had been responsible for the new pilgrimage routes which had made pilgrimage much more efficient. Lawrence was determined that his name would live on in those same pages of history. 

He wore a thick, white embroidered jacket of his office and a pair of white tights as he entered the library. He had only been on the throne for less than a year but was eager to move his plans forward which he had been making since he was overseeing the mines. While he doesn't deal with them diplomatically, the lesser prince of the mines has a lot of contact with the dwarves because of their particular obsession with gold and gems. Additionally, the dwarves control all of the other mines throughout the world located in Vinduli as well as two east of the river that are ensconced in small mountain ranges. 

Being a student of history, Lawrence had spent a long time immersed in the histories of two of his predecessors: Daniel and John II. The Corruption from Rival Races, as that period had become known as when it came to the history of his current office of archprince, was a shameful event in teren history. They had seemingly learned their lesson as a kingdom but Lawrence didn't think the dwarves in particular had learned their lesson for their role. 

Teren historians were quite meticulous in their record keeping. Archprinces were often responsible for the way they were remembered historically depending on who was keeping their history. In the capital, for example, the records tended to favor the archprince if there was a scandal or disagreement. In other castles, that particular prince may come off a bit better, but the history itself is never compromised. Stylistic detail and emphasis were understood but teren historians never deliberately misled the kingdom about their own history because they were so proud of it or were desperate for the future terens to learn from it, as was the case with that period of time. 

In the expansive library, Lawrence strode softly and silently towards the table amidst the stacks of books and scrolls he'd been pouring over. He turned the corner and nearly jumped out of his tights as someone was sitting at the table already. 

"My lord," Lawrence said as he caught his breath, "I had no idea you were in the capital!"

The Lesser Prince of Defense, clad in his black of office and white tights that seemed to shine in the evening candlelight stood up respectfully. 

"Your grace," he said, bowing at the head before taking his seat again. Lawrence sat down on the other side of the table. 

Caleb, the lesser prince of defense, had been in his office for almost 200 years and had made it known he was close to going on pilgrimage. He and Lawrence had spoken at length about a suitable replacement once he did so. He appeared about 13 and didn't cut a very imposing figure for the de facto head of the teren military. He was well-toned as he did drill often but was simply not very tall and didn't appear very old. He had very short dirty blond hair that always appeared unwashed and disheveled. 

"I presume you're here to try to convince me otherwise, yet again," Lawrence said as he leaned back in his chair and looked at his long-time friend and colleague. 

"I presume by what's laid out on this table that you're still wanting to do this and I will, once again, say that it is not a good idea."

Spread out on the table was an open book that was detailing the siege of Valas and there were two maps that were specifically looking at the two independent mines east of the river. Lawrence moved a pile of papers aside and slid a relatively new book over to Caleb. Caleb glanced down at the title. 

"Danny the Dwarf Puppet," Caleb said. "I'm not familiar with it. I'm not a fan of non-fiction."

"I'm sure you're read enough to understand what it details," Lawrence said. "There are countless other books being written all the time that continue to remind our citizens about that dark period."

"Of course," Caleb replied, "and just as many, if not more, that talk about what we did afterward and what the sieges ended up costing the elves and the dwarves. Let us not forget that both races were involved in the corruption," Caleb said, hoping that a broader vision would cool Lawrence's temper. 

"Only the dwarves had the audacity to summon an archprince to Valas," Lawrence spat.

"John II didn't need to go," Caleb said calmly. "He, like Daniel, and the archprinces corrupted by the elves, all made their own choices. You are a great student of history," Caleb continued, "and you know that those sieges did more damage to those kingdoms than their corruption of your throne."

"It was 2000 years ago," Lawrence said. "They need a reminder of our power lest they ever think they can manipulate us again."

"I know 2000 years isn't to us what it is to them, which is why I emphasize again the fact they haven't even tried. The reputation of your throne is as high as it's ever been. You don't need to become another Adrian," Caleb said before immediately regretting what he said. Lawrence stared daggers at him. 

"In the future," Lawrence said coldly, "archprinces will hope to be considered 'another Lawrence'."

"Your grace," Caleb said very apologetically, "You are the most powerful figure in the world. You can summon the seven armies to you whenever you choose. You can march on Vinduli and completely destroy it, but the cost to the kingdom is something that must be considered."

Lawrence cocked his head a bit.

"The dwarves are not as weak as we portray them. Their mines are well-defended and a dwarf soldier is very strong, the same as an elven soldier is strong. Can we attack Vinduli and win? Yes. Will it be the costliest war we've ever fought? Yes. Is there a valid reason to go to war? No. Every war we've ever fought has had a reason: freedom, security, retaliation. Attacking the dwarves because of a wound that we have already avenged will not be a popular war. And there's no telling how Luminos will respond. If they see us march against the dwarves for no reason, they could see themselves as next and either join the dwarves or attack us on a second front. I tell you now as your chief military advisor, that our army is massive and strong, but the elves and the dwarves combined against us could be a war of attrition and slaughter that could fracture the kingdom."

Lawrence stared at Caleb in silence. 

"You've made a good argument, my lord," Lawrence said formally. "I appreciate, as always, your counsel."

Caleb stood up and bowed. 

"I leave for the Fortress in the morning, your grace. I am always at your disposal."

Lawrence nodded slightly as Caleb walked silently out of the library and left Lawrence deep in thought. 

Three weeks later, just after the one year anniversary of his election, Lawrence mounted his white horse in the courtyard of his palace and rode out of the palace through the quiet streets inside the walls of the capital. He turned his horse north and exited through a small gate in the walls. There were only scattered dwellings outside the walls of the capital castle to the north as the rest of the kingdom was all to the south and eventually west. To the north of the capital was a lot of flatlands not terribly suitable for much except cavalry training. The large area was surrounded on all sides by water with the sprawling capital to the south. 

Lawrence rode alone for some time until he made out the dim lights of a small encampment to the northeast. As he approached he was greeted by his chief page, William. William helped Lawrence off the horse and tied it up while Lawrence walked into his large tent which was lavishly appointed as all things were. Inside the tent waiting for him were two terens clad in brilliantly-detailed armor. The armor the terens were making now was as much ceremonial as practical. One could move and fight in it and it was quite thin and very strong, but it didn't provide as much flexibility as before since terens only drilled in peacetime. When terens did drill, they didn't wear their fancy armor for fear of damaging it and not looking as good on parade. 

"Your grace," one soldier said as Lawrence entered and both soldiers bowed. 

"Are we ready?" Lawrence asked as he approached the table they stood next to with a map on it. 

"Yes, your grace, on your command," the first soldier replied. They all turned their attention to the map. "The east river between Groziter and Groaznic Lakes is quite impassible, as you know. Therefore, to guarantee a crossing, we'll need to cross Groziter Lake here, on the southern edge before the river currents pick up again. It will take a bit longer but once across we'll have the shortest route to the mine through this mountain pass, here," he said, pointing. 

"That would be the way the dwarves would expect, though," the other soldier replied cautiously. Lawrence didn't look at him as he answered.

"The dwarves do not have enough soldiers in that mine to patrol a mountain pass to the west where there's a lake and a kingdom they assume is friendly," he said. "Their eyes will remain to the east where the orcs continue to waste away," he added casually. 

"They ship their goods down the river, though," the soldier replied, again cautiously. Lawrence sighed and still didn't look up.

"They move their goods by cart to Groaznic Lake to bypass the river's currents and obstacles and then use the southern portion of the river which is actually usable to get their goods to the Runden Sea and beyond which you would know if you ever read a book," Lawrence said flatly. The soldier didn't reply. Lawrence looked up finally. "You're a good fighter, that's why you're here. Leave the strategy to me."

The soldier bowed deferentially. 

"Assemble the squad," Lawrence said as the two soldiers departed the tent. William removed a very ornate armor chest piece from a nearby stand and helped to put in on Lawrence. It came to his waist and he put a belt around the archprince which held his ornate sword. Lawrence didn't want a helmet nor armor over his tights. He wanted the image of both the archprince and the soldier. He did have a pair of riding boots over his footed tights, though. 

He strode out of the tent and mounted his horse with William's help as his ornate armor was quite heavy and unyielding. He then waited for a brief moment until the sound of horses' hooves and clanking armor and swords grew stronger and stronger. Two hundred hand-picked knights appeared out of the darkness and formed up around their archprince. They had been selected by Lawrence from a list that showed how long they've been emerged and how long they've been in the active military. From those he then selected the biggest, so all of the terens assembled appeared about 15 or 16. 

When a teren emerged from the Divine Lake, were they to stand next to an elven boy who is the closest resemblance to a teren, they appeared anywhere from 10-16 on average. Thus their individual strength had a very real ceiling. A "fully-grown teren" as the other races called them, even though terens never grew older in that way, could take on a dwarf or elven soldier if he was well-trained and had worked up his muscles as best he could. Once the terens got smaller like those who appeared 10-13/14, their ability to fight an elf or dwarf soldier one on one was not easy which was why the terens always relied on their enormous numbers along with their skill and training. 

"Knights of Teres," Lawrence said to the faceless group as their visors were all down, "tonight we embark on a crusade of vengeance, of power, and of freedom. We will cross the waters and seize the dwarf mine east of the river. We will teach the dwarves that to dwell near Teres and use the waters of our borders means death. Never again will the dwarves dictate to us. Never again will the dwarves corrupt us. We are terens. We are in control! All of you have trained to fight longer than any dwarf we will slay has been alive. We will be victorious!" 

A cheer rose up from the knights assembled who were relishing the idea of combat for the very first time. The small force rode out in the night until they reached the shores of Groziter Lake. Unfortunately, there they had to leave their horses as the crude boats that Lawrence had ordered constructed would not carry the soldiers with their horses. Terens, like goblins and orcs, really didn't like the water. They didn't have the same fear as orcs and goblins but it was close. They had no navy or boats and only the dwarves and elves maintained any such craft. 

It was morning by the time they arrived at the lake and they waited until nightfall to get into the small boats and paddle across the southern portion of the lake. It was slow-going but the small fleet of rickety boats eventually made it to the eastern shores. The armor-clad knights clumsily got out of the boats and moved up the beach, struggling a bit in the sand as their armor weighed them down. 

With Lawrence in front, the 200 terens entered the narrow mountain pass which was more rugged than Lawrence had anticipated. The terens were struggling in the cold as they labored over the rough terrain, breathing heavily as they marched. When they reached the mine, Lawrence was very confident of their chances as he'd spent more time around mines than anyone in his former position. 

For three days the small force stumbled through the rough pass towards the mine. On the evening of the third day they stopped to make camp in a small valley. However, as soon as they stopped marching and thus were still quite tired, there was a sound from slopes all around them. Dwarf soldiers appeared with battle axes from all sides. The terens formed up as best they could but were caught completely by surprise. The dwarves smashed into the knights with fury at the invasion. The terens fought well but were so exhausted that the fight did not go well. The dwarves outnumbered the terens as well which was something Lawrence had not anticipated. 

Despite the protection their strong armor gave them, their lack of flexibility meant that the dwarves were able to knock the knights to the ground where their axes could do the most damage. Terens were falling rapidly as the dwarves closed in. Lawrence had been moved into the middle by his soldiers to protect him. The dwarves continued to push in as the knights' training proved no use against dwarves who no doubt fought orcs and goblins and elves. As the dwarves slaughtered the terens without mercy, the knights nearest the archprince became engaged. Lawrence drew his beautiful sword as a dwarf felled a knight to his right and the dwarf's axe easily knocked it out of the archprince's hand. Lawrence's eyes were wide and he dropped to his knees in surrender. When he did so, the dwarves took a step back and this allowed the remaining knights to drop their swords in surrender as well. It was over.

Lawrence, along with a dozen knights both injured and not, survived. The rest lay dead around them. The dwarves moved in and ordered the terens to remove their armor. Lawrence and his captured knights complied and removed their armor until they stood in their brown leather undergarments or, in Lawrence's case, the bright white of his office. When Lawrence removed his chest plate to reveal the symbolic embroidered emblem the whole world was familiar with, the dwarves' eyes went wide. 

"Well boys," one of the dwarf soldiers said as they began to bind the terens' hands with rope behind their backs, "it looks like the dwarves are taking another archprince back to Valas!"

The dwarf soldiers cheered as Lawrence's face went red with fury and humiliation. 

"You dare to," Lawrence began before the dwarf captain slapped him hard across the face. The other knights, most of whom now had their hands bound, yelled in anger and one, the one who had questioned Lawrence in his tent about the strategy, made a move to attack the dwarf captain as he'd yet to be bound but a dwarf soldier sliced him down easily with an axe and he fell dead at the feet of his archprince. 

"You are all prisoners of war," the dwarf captain said, "and you will be treated as such. If you try to escape, you will be killed."

The dwarves marched the now-12 captured terens away as other dwarves stayed behind to begin stripping the fallen terens of their armor. The dwarves would happily re-use the fine materials. The dwarf captain personally held the arm of the archprince who was at the head of the column of prisoners. 

"We've been tracking you since you landed," he said with a chuckle. "We just waited until you all were nice and tired and in the right spot," he added which caused further humiliation to Lawrence. It was only a short march to the mouth of the mine and Lawrence had had no idea they were that close. The passage through the mountains had been getting easier but Lawrence was so thankful for that he didn't put it together with the proximity to the mine. 

Inside the mine, the dwarves gave little attention to their prisoners which, for some reason, made the situation even more humiliating to Lawrence. There he was, the Archprince of Teres, and very few dwarves cared. Then again, the dwarves east of the river were of a different sort than those in Vinduli and had very little interaction with terens. The lord of the mine, however, was a different story. 

The terens were marched into his presence and he sat on a simple throne at the end of the long room. The mine wasn't particularly rich or influential and these dwarves were quite isolationist. They traded south and that was it. But from the south came the reports of the kingdom and those stories were enough to make the terens seem like a threat which was why the dwarves monitored the east shore of the lake. 

"I must say I'm unimpressed," the lord said to Lawrence as his soldiers were held behind him by their captors. "After all, the siege of Valas is legendary. The wrath of the terens and all that," he said in a mocking tone. "Now I'm forced to wonder if the stories of the siege are exaggerated and the stories of the archprince brought to heel in Valas are underrated."

Lawrence felt too humiliated to even respond. 

"Perhaps the mighty Kingdom of Teres is ripe for the taking? Perhaps I should advise the king in Valas that he should retake those northern mines and put you terens back to work the way you deserve!" he roared with laughter. The faces of the prisoners were deep red. "Don't worry, little prince," he said in a mocking tone, "I'm sure the king will be merciful." 

There was a slight chill in the mine and one of the captured soldiers made an involuntary shiver. It was slight but the dwarf lord noticed and a smile crossed his old face. 

"We should make our guests warm until they depart," the lord said. The dwarf soldiers then began the quick process of stripping the captured soldiers and archprince of their garments. There was nothing the terens could do until they all stood completely naked before the dwarf lord, unable to shield themselves with their hands bound behind them. "So that's what a naked teren looks like," he said with a chuckle. "Although," he said casually, "I think the little prince here deserves some dignity," he said. He stood up and approached the shivering naked terens. He picked up the fine white tights that had been pulled off Lawrence's smooth body. He tossed it to a dwarf to his side. "See what my seamstress can provide for the little prince here," he said. 

The eleven naked soldiers were marched away and put in a few prison cells while Lawrence was forced to remain with the dwarf lord. His smooth ankles were cuffed together and his hands put in metal cuffs behind him to replace the rope. The seamstress had cut up his white tights and made what was essentially a thong for Lawrence to wear which greatly delighted the dwarf lord. It barely covered his soft, modest cock and then the string went right between his pert ass cheeks. Lawrence was forced to stand by the lord at all times no matter what he was doing. Little did he know that in the prison cells, his captured soldiers were being forced by the guards to play games which the soldiers would never tell Lawrence about. The games included "whose is biggest and smallest" and "how much will fit inside" among others. 

Three days later the captured terens were included in the next usual trip down the river to Valas. They were bound wrist and ankle and unceremoniously piled naked in the wagons. They were given no blankets or other coverings and it was still quite cold. The dwarves didn't seem to care if they perished or not. Lawrence joined the rest of his soldiers for this short trip that skirted the mountains and then followed the east bank of the river to a small port on the eastern banks of Groaznic Lake. 

What Lawrence nor his captured soldiers ever found out about was that during their pillaging of the teren armor on the battlefield, a few terens were still alive, although badly wounded. While the archprince and his soldiers were treated separately in their humiliating way, these three others were taken to the medical area and treated for their wounds. Once they were healed many days after the archprince and others had departed, they were given simple leather loincloths and enslaved to work for the lord in the mines as terens had once done in the northern mines thousands of years ago. It would be a lasting remembrance for the dwarves and their descendants who lived in that mine of the humiliating defeat of the mighty teren army. 

Aboard the barges, the terens were once again crowded below in holds like cattle as they began the long, slow journey by water south. They crossed the large lake and then wound down the east river with their own kingdom just on the other side. In fact, unbeknownst to the terens below, their particular barge was signaled by the teren watchtowers that were on the western bank of the river as the barge passed under the only bridge over that river. In the Runden Sea, they stuck close to the north bank which was also territory of the terens. All of the villages along the coast saw the familiar sight of dwarf barges having no idea the terrible humiliation to their kingdom that was inside. 

The barge entered the mighty Ferox River and docked on the Vinduli side. To avoid any possible teren traders on the main roads, the captured soldiers and prince were unloaded under cover of darkness and once again piled naked into wagons, forced to lay and feel each other's naked bodies with the exception of Lawrence who was still clad in his humiliating thong. The wagons were then covered and the two that held the most valuable cargo ever hauled made their journey to Valas as a personal gift to King Dermuc IX. 

Dermuc IX was anything but stupid. When the captured terens and archprince were delivered to him, his first reaction was terror. While he enjoyed the sight of the humiliated Lawrence and his "mighty" soldiers, he also knew that if he were to simply keep him as a prisoner then the entire might of the teren army would descend on Vinduli and the dwarves would be crushed. He called together his advisors to figure out exactly how they were going to survive this. 

The dwarves and the elves both knew that the only thing as massive and powerful as the teren army was the teren sense of pride. That was going to be Dermuc's saving grace. 

The lesser prince of the dwarves was scheduled for one of his official state visits in a month's time and Dermuc decided to simply wait until then. For the vast majority of the teren kingdom, the disappearance of the archprince wouldn't even be noticed. It would be his pages who would then not know what to do and by the time they communicated with someone who might know what to do, the lesser prince would have made his trip and things could begin. That was Dermuc's gamble, anyway. 

In the interim, Dermuc kept Lawrence in his personal bedchamber strictly to keep him out of sight. He didn't need this spreading through Valas and beyond and word getting to the various terens who traded within his realm. The humiliated archprince spent his days in chains, still clad in his thong, being admired as a trophy by the old dwarf king. Like most dwarves, Dermuc didn't really have a taste for teren holes like orcs, goblins, and some elves. Dwarves saw terens originally as simple slaves. Dermuc had Lawrence's cuffed hands raised above him and attached by chain to the ceiling which stretched out his smooth body. At the end of a long day, Dermuc would take out some of his frustrations on the gagged and exposed archprince, using his tight stomach as a punching bag and occasionally would enjoy the sound of his hand spanking the exposed cheeks of the prince and watching them bounce around as he did so. 

The soldiers, however, had a much worse time waiting for the lesser prince's visit. 

There were dwarves in Valas that did have a certain predilection. It wasn't something that dwarves were particularly proud of and thus could keep the secret of the terens for the time being. Dermuc's cousin was one such dwarf who ran a tavern in a seedy back street of the capital. Taverns, both in Vinduli and Luminos, were not just places for elves and dwarves to get their drinks, but also to engage in behaviors that were best kept off the streets. They were more common in Luminos. 

The eleven terens were delivered to this tavern and word spread quickly amongst the clientele that there were terens to be used there. No dwarf living had ever had a teren before.  

Anthony, the Lesser Prince of the Dwarves, finally arrived for his normal visit. Clad in his princely red of office and white tights with red silk boots, he climbed out of his lavish carriage and made his way to the throne room of Dermuc. He wasn't in a particularly good mood as he never enjoyed his trips to Vinduli. He always said he couldn't stand the smell. He had also been frustrated as he'd sent correspondence to the archprince, at Lawrence's request, and hadn't heard back. It had now been two months since Lawrence's failed attack: one month captured and traveling and one month as the personal plaything of the king. 

When the heavy doors opened into the throne room and Anthony was formally announced, the lesser prince took two steps into the room before he looked down where the throne was and froze. There, suspended in the same way as he had been in the bedchamber with his arms stretched up, a gag in his mouth, and ankles cuffed together and to the floor, was the archprince, covered only by the white thong made from his tights. Anthony just stared as Dermuc sat comfortably on his throne. 

"I think this visit will be more interesting than the last," Dermuc said. 

Anthony was brought a chair and they met right there in the throne room with Lawrence as a spectator. It was a struggle for Anthony to take his eyes off of him, not just because of the reality of the situation, but also because Anthony, like many in the nobility, enjoyed the occasional company of his pages and the sight of Lawrence's smooth, toned body all stretched and exposed was quite a distraction for the lesser prince. 

Several hours later Anthony departed the capital. He normally would have stayed a few days but not in this case. He made for the great Fortress and had a meeting with Caleb, the lesser prince of defense, to inform him of the situation. 

Dermuc was in no mood to go to war and had explained fully what had happened and why Lawrence and the others were currently in Valas. However, the idea that Dermuc was just going to give Lawrence and the soldiers back wasn't an option. And should the terens muster for war, Dermuc would make sure that the entire kingdom found out why. Additionally, without the archprince, none of the other lesser princes had the authority to do so. In the absence of the archprince when he goes on pilgrimage, all six lesser princes take on joint care of the kingdom. Lawrence hadn't resigned though so despite his condition, he was still in charge. 

News of not only a failed attack on a small mine but what had happened afterward would wreck the reputation of the archprince and the kingdom. Dermuc had been right about the teren sense of pride because both lesser princes couldn't figure out what to do. 

It took almost four years of negotiations to secure the release of Lawrence and his soldiers. The soldiers had been used in the goblin way for those years in that tavern and unfortunately for Lawrence, Dermuc eventually decided to experiment himself with such things as the allure of a mostly-naked archprince constantly in his bedchamber eventually overcame his sensibilities. What made the entire situation that much more humiliating for Lawrence was that by the time of his release, he had come to enjoy what Dermuc did to him every single night. 

Lawrence was on his knees, long since having shed his thong and instead spent his days fully naked. Dermuc sat in one of his chairs as Lawrence gave him an expert blowjob. Lawrence had become quite good at it over time. With Dermuc nice and wet, Lawrence climbed up on the chair and slowly impaled himself on the dwarf king and began to ride him up and down as Dermuc played with Lawrence's nipples. It didn't take long for Dermuc to release a thick load up into Lawrence who felt the king's juices inside him and climaxed dry himself. 

"I think I'm actually going to miss you, teren," Dermuc said as Lawrence gingerly got off the chair. Lawrence breathed heavily but didn't say a word. 

For the first time in years he put on some simple clothes provided by the dwarves. Dermuc walked him out of his castle where the other eleven were waiting. They were also clad in simple garments but unlike their archprince, their eyes were completely dead. Lawrence didn't need to ask what had happened to them as they were once again loaded into wagons, but this time clothed and unbound. 

They were taken to the docks under cover of darkness, once again to avoid any teren traders. The final bounty paid to the dwarves was a number so large it actually forced a few austerity measures in certain palaces for some time in Teres, namely defense, dwarves, and pilgrimage, who were the only three who knew. The archprince's household had been told that Lawrence had gone to the Fortress to help Caleb train the soldiers for a possible war against the dwarves. It made sense and they still got paid and they didn't care. No teren really cared as long as they got paid. 

The princes had hired a dwarf barge to take Lawrence and his soldiers down the Ferox instead of going on pilgrimage through the land. This would avoid all terens. When it passed under the bridges between Teres and Luminos, they were covered up. Eventually the barge docked at a makeshift port on the northern bank where only the Lesser Prince of Pilgrimage greeted the 12 disgraced terens. He personally escorted all of them into the Sacred Forest for their pilgrimage. 

None of it was recorded in his palace. None of this is recorded in teren history. All of the official records were altered and Lawrence's name was scrubbed from history. Were one to look at a listing of archprince's in the official records, you will not find him. His predecessor had been George I. The next archprince, which was Caleb, took the name George II in the year 3565 so the records would show that continuity. He would reign until the year 3900 to ensure that his predecessor's name was never uttered again. In 3900, George III was elected who reigned for 400 years and it appears as a nice line of three archprinces named for each other. Lawrence, determined to have his name remembered for all time, instead had it erased.

The only place this record could be found now would be in the deep archives of Valas where cursory records mention a great triumph of the dwarves that increased their wealth a thousand fold, but even they kept their details a bit vague, just in case. The age of the Working Archprinces continued with the elections of Archprince Christopher, Samuel I, and Samuel II.