Elf Name Ideas Novels & Stories

“I made it just the way you like it. Two sugars, no cream. Right?” “Yeah,” I nodded. “Perfect.” His smile widened, full of pride. He looked so happy. So… in love. Like a man who believed his whole life was finally falling into place. That he was exactly where he was meant to be, doing exactly what he was meant to do. And it was killing me. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, turning to face me, eyes bright. “Names.” “Names?” “For the baby,” he said excitedly. “If it’s a boy—I want to call him Elvis. Like Elvis Presley. Strong. Classic. And if it’s a girl... Elora. Soft. Elegant.”

"I was thinking, we haven't picked a name for her. She'll be here in two months time, and I wouldn't want to be forced to pick a random name on the day of her birth, just to fill the birth certificate. It's a permanent decision, and we can't screw it up. It will stick with her for the rest of her life, and I don't want her to be the laughing stock of the school." "Elle, we have two months. And, we can still pick a name for her, and there's no rush. There's plenty of time. Do you really think we would be able to find a perfect name at this hour of the night?" "No, but it doesn't hurt to try. Come on, let's brainstorm. What would you want to name her?" "I was thinking something that goes well

His eyes are still tired, still a little red from crying in the car on the way home, but they’re softer now. “We should talk about names,” he says quietly. “For real this time. Before she decides for us.” I smile a little, even though my throat feels tight. “I thought we’ve already settled for Sandra” “Not officially Livia” He says “Okay. You start.” He thinks for a second, fingers still moving on my ankles like he needs the contact to think straight. “I like Elena,” he says. “It’s soft but strong. It has Russian roots, but it works anywhere. It feels… hopeful.”

I placed my hands in my lap, adjusting my dress to make sure it didn't slide up, as I was conscious that he might steal a glance of my panties. "I am a humanoid elf, which means—more like how werewolves are half humans and half wolves. I am half-elf and half-human. Unlike regular elves, I don't carve weapons either. My mixed heritage gives me a unique job. I don't have a surname, and we don't live with our families. Whenever a humanoid elf is born, we are sent to the groupies, where we grow up and learn everything. I also need years to live, so I buy them," he shared, his words filled with a sense of happiness and openness as he spoke to me.

", Elisa asked with a smile, hoping he would agree. Eamon thought about it for a second and then let out a breath, "fine, be quick about it though", he said, "and not talking or having a proper conversation in this position Elisa. Get off me", he pushed her away. "I love feisty", she winked and then got serious, "so um technically I'm an Alpha, I'm the only child of my parents so I'm the Alpha. My name is Alpha Elisa, I'm hoping you can do me the honors of giving me your last name", she chuckled, "joking joking", when she saw the look on his face.

she said, caressing where she felt the baby kick. "I've been considering names for our little one. What do you think we'll have, a boy or a girl?" Ellen asked. Pandora hesitated. "Either... either is fine," her voice wavered. "Well, I've thought of some lovely names for a girl or boy. There's Elrora or Devora if we have a girl, and Bright or River if it's a boy," said Ellen. But with Pandora merely nodding to her suggestions, Ellen pressed further, "Have you ever thought of a name for such an occasion? What would you name your son or daughter?"

’ I ask him. ‘Do you have any family names that you want to give to our children?’ He asks me instead. ‘Not really. That’s not how elves work. Why? Is that how it is with dragons? Do you have a family name to pass down?’ I ask. ‘Not a family name, per se, but because I am descended from the earth dragons, I would like my children to have names that mean 'earth', or 'of the earth'.’

“What have you got so far?” “Well,” she sighed dramatically. “If it’s a boy, I really love the name Elias. It sounds strong, doesn’t it? And I can already imagine a little Eli running around.” I chuckled, the mental image actually kind of adorable. “Elias is nice.” She nodded in agreement, then turned to me with an excited gleam in her eyes. “And if it’s a girl…” I raised a brow. “Let me guess, something super classic like Elizabeth or Catherine?”

But they were fighters. Idris’s fingers traced gentle circles on my back. “Have you thought of names?” he asked softly. I looked down at our son, his dark lashes resting against his chubby cheeks. Then at our daughter, her tiny fingers still gripping mine. “I was thinking… Elias,” I said, meeting Idris’s gaze. “For him.” His lips parted slightly, then he smiled. “Elias,” he repeated, as if testing the name. “I love it.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat, shifting my gaze to our daughter. She was smaller, more delicate—but there was something about her, a quiet strength beneath the softness.

Ringlets of curly, cinnamon hair fell across her face which she brushed off with her small, dimpled hand. “Snow…dada let’s play in snow…” the blue-eyed boy in his other arm with matching dark, curly hair jumped with enthusiasm, his dark eyes bright with excitement. Elion and Evara Gray—the apple of our eyes, our little bundle of happiness and the very reason that completed our lives and filled the gaping hole that the loss of my unborn child left in mine and Asher’s heart. Named after two people I loved the most, Elion from Eli and Evara, which was my mother’s middle name, they were twins and born a year after the Cold War.