Elven Woman Novels & Stories

Sera one of the rebel soldiers bowed to her. "My lady, a woman is here, she wanted to see you." "Woman? What woman? How did she find us? Why did you let her in?" Her tirade of questions never stopped. "My lady, she is not an ordinary woman," He stifled a fleeting moment of panic as he took in Shrushaw's angry scowl. "She is the queen of the elves Zinfer." Before Shrushaw could react a woman, walked....no floated in. That is what it seemed when she moved.

"Oh my, seems I have a visitor! Why don't you sit down and join me for tea-time?" The woman held in her arms a banquet consisting of roses, lilacs, and jasmine flowers. Rose pink lips curved into a soft smile as butterflies swarmed around her. Such a surreal scene almost caused Elaria to mistake the woman for one of the six great forest spirits, creators of this world. History aside, Elira recalled the limited number of artwork that exhibited their profound beauty, which one would expect from divine beings but not a mere mortal. She was unable to believe that the woman standing before her was created by the human race.

She looked back and saw that when the fire burned out and the puff of smoke disappeared, a smaller figure emerged. It looked.. human. Ellaine was surprised. It was a woman, descending directly to their ship with a accelerating speed. She flipped on suspended air before finally landing on their ship. “You called for me, Finrod the elf Prince?” She was a tall woman, with a long, royal blue hair, and big eyes of the same color. Ellaine whispered against Finrod’s ear, “Where did the dragon go?” “There, right in front of us.” Ellaine followed the direction of his eyes and ended up looking at the female stranger. “This world doesn’t fail to surprise me.” She remarked.

Esme glanced over at Charles but looked unbothered, but no one, apart from Charles himself, seemed to know who she was. No one paused to ask or even looked concerned that Charles and this woman were here until Sean cleared his throat. "King Charles," he drawled, "your presence is unexpected. And even more surprising is your… companion. I wasn't aware that we were sharing court proceedings..." A sardonic smile played on Charles's lips. "I thought I made my interest in Mooncrest's affairs rather clear during our last encounter. This," he gestured towards the woman, "is Elara, a revered member of my mother's coven and an expert in magical infrastructure."

Her face had gone completely white. "No." Elara stood at the center of the ruined corridor. Her hands still glowed. The woman shook her head. "That's impossible." Kael lowered his sword slightly. "What did you just say?" The woman didn't answer him. Her eyes remained fixed on Elara. "You're supposed to be nothing." Elara's breathing slowed. "What?" "Wolfless." The woman's voice cracked. "Sealed." Kael looked at Elara. Torin did the same. The woman backed away.

“You’re going to hate fuck each other later. I owe you nothing.” The raven hovered by Aion for a moment then transformed into a fearsome looking pale woman, with red eyes, and hair that might have once been blond but now was stark white. It curled around her shoulders. She wore a black, woman’s pants suit and high heels. “I told you never to rope me into your bullshit, Eliot.” He grinned. “You live for this, West.” “I live for ruining the lives of wizards that try to enchant young woman against their will. You, however, I could live without.”

Elia sat on a platform constructed of vines that grew from the ground. A hundred elves in her group were all seated in the same manner. All of them were, in fact, her buddies. "Should we try to recruit members for our group, Elia? That prince has already taken a step ahead of us, f we don't act quickly, he will assemble everyone here." A woman spoke up. "Don't worry, we don't need people we can't rely on. Humans can play all of their own mind games. None of that appeals to me." Elia retorted sarcastically.

Not even bothering to get undressed, she fell into the bed and almost instantly was asleep. The familiar nightmare came for her again, and as the last time the wolves disappeared, replaced by the shimmery elfin woman. She looked just like the last time. Pale, straight white hair, ageless gray eyes, and dressed in a light gray dress with light radiating from her. “Please, help my children,” she pleaded, just like last time. Gail shook her head. “I can’t help them, lady. I can’t help anyone.” “You’re the only one who can,” the woman told her. “Without you. They’ll be lost forever to the madness the witches inflicted them with.”

I, Anno, clutched a bag of deer meat damp with dew as I walked along the streets of the elven town, the burning pain from the wolf’s claws still lingering on my right cheek from last night. Whispers followed me all the way. “It’s her—that defective elf with a broken wing, and she’s even keeping a tamed werewolf.” “It’s laughable. That werewolf doesn’t even look at her. He’s always trying to run away, but she still treats him like a precious treasure.”

"Because something woke the crown. And the Lunari have always claimed to be its keepers." The woman who stepped out of the carriage was striking, sharp-eyed, silver-haired despite looking barely older than me, dressed in pale furs that seemed untouched by travel. She didn't bow. Didn't introduce herself with titles. "I'm here for the crown," she said simply, eyes finding mine immediately. "And for the girl who woke it." Darius stepped slightly in front of me , not blocking, just present. "And you are?" "Elowen," she said. "Of the Lunari." Her gaze didn't leave me. "You don't know what you've done, do you? Waking something that's been sleeping for a thousand years."