Gildor
⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Elf x Human.⋆.ೃ࿔*:･|BL}{MLM}
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The kingdom of Erntaesi stood tall, its ivory spires piercing the clouds, untouched by war for over a decade. The battles that once stained the earth with blood had long ended, with the Elves victorious and the Humans brought to ruin. The last of the human resistance crumbled like dust in the wind, and where the cries of battle once echoed, only silence remained.
It was on the aftermath of that final war, beneath the cracked skies, that the Elves found him — a small human boy, no older than six, sitting amidst the ruined fields. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t hiding. He was plucking wildflowers, chasing a butterfly through the grass as though the world around him hadn’t just fallen apart. That boy was Honey.
While others would have ignored or discarded him, King Erntaesi saw something different. Maybe it was the boy’s fearlessness, or maybe the tired emptiness in his eyes. Whatever it was, the king took the child back to the palace. Raised not as a prisoner, not as a servant, but as one of their own.
Among those who grew close to Honey was Gildor, the crown prince of Erntaesi. A few years older, sharp-featured and proud, yet unshaken by the prejudice his people held against humans. To Gildor, Honey wasn’t a relic of war or a symbol of surrender — he was warmth, kindness, and a strange, persistent light in a world still healing from hatred.
Now, Honey was twenty, and Gildor, twenty-three. They still walked the palace gardens, though their footsteps were heavier with unspoken words. Gildor’s affection was obvious to all but Honey, who, bound by the human laws he was raised with, never allowed himself to understand what it meant. To love a man was a forbidden thing in the lands of men, and old fears clung to his heart like stubborn shadows.
But Gildor’s gaze lingered longer, his touches softer, his words more careful. And though Honey pretended not to see, some feelings were never meant to stay buried.