The Naked Elf

I'm Lithedhil, an elven girl with an incredibly flat chest, so flat that it's not different from a boy's. Having small hips doesn't help either, not to mention the voice I got damaged as a child while being lost in the woods and calling for help... My only hope has always been my long hair, yet no matter how long I grow it, the first thing I'm always asked is whether or not I'm an escaped eunuch, a poor boy having suffered castration down in the harems of the cruel human kings, because the only thing that makes me incomplete as a boy is, well...

Over the years I learned that it's actually not the best idea to insist on my true gender as way too often I ended up being called a freak because elves consider such unusual bodies the result of a curse, which automatically makes you a bad person in the eyes of common crowd, because according to common beliefs nobody gets cursed for nothing. Nobody likes the cursed folk, especially elves who are extremely radical about purity and beauty. Have you ever seen a legless elf, a blind elf? Because any disability is considered a curse and if you fail to justify yourself you'd be hunted down and sold to slavery... Well, thanks goodness that me and my dad move a lot from one village to another, hunting for jobs, so ever since I started pretending to be a guy, things turned to the better. Even though since then I'm always being told what a "pretty young man" I am! Makes me clench my teeth but that's much better than being called a freak.

Dad has always been incredibly supportive in all my troubles and even took me with him on this journey to raise me as a warrior like himself. It's been several years already he never referred to me as a girl in public, for which I'm incredibly grateful, but every night before giving me a kiss on the forehead before sleep, he whispers to my long pointed ear: "Good night, my beautiful girl." It makes me feel warm and relaxed just hearing it. Makes me feel like a girl again. I often think that my life is just derived from the word 'lie' with some naughty fff~ at the end, but at the end of the day I feel at peace and I know I'm not lost, on some level I'm still myself. I love my dad, he's incredible.

For some years I used to be my dad's squire but he trained me hard enough that now I'm able to handle some basic dangers such as fresh deadwalkers (as long as they're just walking corpses and there's nothing too special about them), moderately sized ratlings and batlings, sometimes even skeletons unless they're smart enough to grab weapons, in other words, various smaller monsters until they grow too powerful. And if this is the case, I let my dad deal with them. After all, he has more than a hundred years of experience! He's 150 while I am only 40. To my human readers I should mention that my body is best compared to human teenagers who just turned 18, while my dad looks somewhat like what 25-ish humans usually look, but that's very rough. Elves almost stop aging after the bones fully grow in size, only after 700 years or so our hair suddenly turns grey which means we have less than half a century left until the heart fails to make another beat and the elven life stops.

But hey, that sounded sad! Better let me tell you about my favorite little hobby. Something that my dad got me interested in once, saying it might help to make me look more girly because boys are very rarely capable of getting good at it. Alas, I ended up considered being one of those rare boys, so I guess I'm cursed after all. But I still liked this practice enough to keep it going regardless. Anyway, the Dragondance, is what it's called. The spines of elven girls, there's some special magic in them, and one does only need to be interested in revealing it. They call it waking up the dragon that sleeps at the base of the spine. Through this practice, slowly, from the bottom to the top, the spine becomes incredibly flexible. First the lower back, the mid-torso, and finally the upper back, until your whole torso becomes so soft and bendy like the body of a dragon.

They say this practice was a gift to use from the ancient water dragon Luindunir who was incredibly flexible even for a dragon and was legendary for the special dance she could perform. Once an evil king had gathered an army and wanted to steal from her cave and kill her for her rare pliant scales to make heavy armor that would weigh nothing and let the wearer move freely. But the elven king was fast enough to prevent this from happening. As a sign of gratitude, Luindunir asked the elven king to send to her one of his daughters for a year. When the princess returned, she amazed her father by performing the dragon's dance, bending and twisting in ways that only Luindunir was known for. The princess did not become a rare gem but willingly taught the dance to other elven girls, until the Dragondance became part of the elven culture.

Even though the Dragondance was practiced mainly by girls, still from time to time a boy would be born who would suddenly become even better at it than most of the girls. Unfortunately, I had to play the role of such a boy. But knowing how inflexible boys generally are, now more and more often I wonder if all those rare flexible boys in the history were in fact girls like me, who just ended up making it easier for the society to grasp their physical differences and just claimed to be boys for the sake of simplicity? Seriously, I more and more often think this.

The ability to bend the body as much as I could bend it required daily stretching, you're not really allowed to skip a day, not in this practice. The dragon Luindunir was known for sleeping while coiled up into an incredibly twisted pose and that's how she got her scales to become amazingly pliant over many centuries. The dragon normally slept for many days in a row and she kept our princess sleeping in strange positions as well, so for the whole year of training they mainly slept, but week after week the girl's body was becoming more and more supple. Much like them, I often slept in splits, twists, backbends and frontbends, and my body felt incredible in those positions. It felt amazing to bend your hipbone right under your armpit, and your leg wraps all around your body and the foot comes in front of your face so you can suck on your big toe while taking a nap. Really makes you feel like a coiled snake.

"Wake up, snakey," my father kisses me on the cheek, while my other cheek rests peacefully upon the side of my hip. I open my eyes and move a little. Oh my, it feels so great to wake up being coiled that much, I can feel my soles somewhere under my ribcage, pushing into my soft belly, my smooth thigh is locked under my armpit. In their beginning weeks of practice Dragondancers usually try hard to force themselves into flexible positions for sleeping but wake up just snoring on their back in a perfectly normal way. After about a year of practicing it turns to the exact opposite and you can fall asleep in a normal pose but you'll always wake coiled up in such extreme ways that only your body alone knows how it was possible. I'm completely amazed because right now I'm laying in one of my best twists that I probably won't be able to repeat once uncoiled, only while sleeping my body knows how to twist that much. Well, but it always happens like this, first I learn new things in my sleep and then little by little I learn to incorporate them into my official dance, so to speak.

"What's for breakfast, dad?" I sniff the yummy scent in the air, the only thing that can possibly make me unwrap from my so comfortable position. Dad only smiles, watching my snakish movements as I lazily uncoil and crawl closer to his spot by the campfire. It smells like elven peas mixed with mageclove, moondill and something else. The moondill is still glowing light blue and smells delicious. Almost unconsciously my leg goes behind my neck as I make myself comfortable next to dad to watch the beautiful play of blue lights through the semi-transparent cauldron. I'm so thankful to my dad for so many things, but above all for making me that flexible. I just don't know how I'd live without it? It just feels so great! I push my leg further behind my back, dad notices that, pulls me closer and hugs me in a way that his forearm just holds my thigh as far as it can go behind my back. Mmm, that feel so nice. I look at my dad in admiration and slowly rest my head against his chest. I admire his chest, he has such round pecs, maybe one day I'll get mine to be as round and finally will look at least somewhat womanly? Though I doubt it, I'll probably end up looking even more manly with such muscles. Sigh.

While thinking about the pros and cons of having huge muscles, suddenly I noticed a massive figure walking down the stairs carved in the mountain next to us. It didn't surprise me, of course, we just made our little camp next to a barbarian settlement and we've even done two contracts here already. Unlike humans, barbarians are super kind to elves. It's not uncommon to see our kind living among them, especially Dragondancers who seek to perfect their stretching routines. There's a point in the practice of Dragondance where you can only really get better using brute force and it's difficult to find elven trainers who are strong enough. It's still possible with special devices, like those that dwarves invent, but since we're not on good terms with the dwarves, so we much prefer to work with barbarians. After all, it's best to have a real trainer and not some machine. After they learned I'm a Dragondancer, they offered a stretching session with the local trainer but my dad said I'm not ready for that yet. Well, we still went to that trainer to watch him working with another Dragondancer, an elven boy by the name of Faendal. I watched with my eyes wide open and could understand way too well what my dad said about not being ready for that. I think I'd fall apart if somebody tried to stretch me like that! The boy looked happy though. Hmm, I wonder if one day I should get a barbarian trainer too, it seems like a scary idea right now but maybe in a decade or two that's how good my own body will be? And oh, that reminds me, I need to ambush that boy Faendal and grab his crotch to see if he's really a boy.

"Ohoho, what a lovely couple early in the morning!" The brute noticed us and waved his huge hand.

"We're not a couple, man. This is my d... dear son," my father protested.

"No offense meant, just thought of some compliment seeing such beautiful people around this place."

"No offense taken, we could just use a good reputation right now. No need for any odd rumors."

"Ahaha! Well, you know every self respecting barbarian has a little squire by his side, someone to carry the sheath in which the warrior can stick his sword at the times of rest, so to speak. You look like a warrior to me and your boy looks exactly like a squire, so the sight was dear to me as I have a wonderful squire myself, often resting with him by campfire just like that, with him slowly polishing my broadsword in the light of fire. What a sight! He's an elf too, my faithful squire. Also can never sit straight, just like the young beauty here, always puts himself in knots. I swear his body is made of dough, you could bake him and make the greatest pretzel, ahaha!"

"What's his name?" I suddenly jumped.

"Faendal is the boy's name. I'm called K'tan myself. May I know yours then?"

"I'm Lysanthir, a warrior," my father answers. "This is my daugh... I mean my dough-like son, Lithedhil."

"Quite a feminine name by the elven standards, huh? Was expecting a girl?"

"N- no, both boys and girls share this name equally back where we're from. My grand-...father went by the same name, that's why..."

"Hey, all elven names sound pretty to my ear! Glad to learn another two," the barbarian's face melts into a wide grin. "Why are you outside anyway? Was about to take a pee, didn't expect someone would be camping near my toilet. Care to be my guests in the house? I can show you what dough my lovely squire is made of, it's time to wake up that lazybutt anyway and give him some nice morning stretch..."

"Oh, we would be greatly pleased actually," this is my father's face's turn to melt into a grin. "Didn't want to spend the little coin we have on renting a whole house, they ask for 10 per night here, so we already saved 40 by now, worth of three or four good meals!"

"Oh dear, aren't you afraid of daugs?"

"Been a hunter and a warrior for over a century now, can sense danger from two miles away, even from my sleep. Anyway, feel like trying our soup as a sign of our gratitude?"

"Umm, I usually don't start with a dessert, but the smell here really makes me hungry for what's inside, I won't deny," the barbarian kneels by the campfire with us and sits on his soles, staring at the soup that is pretty much ready now.

My dad passes a large glass cup to the barbarian who receives it with great care and slowly dips it into the couldron, taking out the cup full of sparkly blue liquid. Dad fills two more cups for us and we raise our cups to the sky and give a toast. "To our kingdoms, let us remain friends for many centuries to come."

"Our kingdoms," the barbarian gently echoes, smiling. Little by little we sip the hot liquid out of our cups and refill them. "That's some really yummy stuff, Lys," he smacks his lips. "Care to share the recipe with my squire? Would love to try it again next time I'm on the road with him."

"Sure thing, K'tan," dad shrugs. "This recipe ain't a secret. So you're a traveller as well? Thought not, since you have a house here..."

"Working as a guard, but the king often travels, so we have to escort."

"So the king lives here? No wonder this place is so expensive."

"He sure does! Where do you think I got my boy Faendal? He came with the elven ambassador some years ago, the elves had some tiny conflict with our king and wanted to settle it down the smoothest way possible, so the boy danced for the king and I even was there to watch, in the throne room, that is. Danced like no one else, that boy, I thought his bare torso was made of unbaked clay, could really do anything with it! When it was over, the king suddenly became curious like a kid to see how far more that elf can bend, so the boy demonstrated. I never had a big interest in that bendy thing the elves like to do until that moment, but the sight just made me crazy about it. Now Faendal has to do it for me every day, what he did back in the throne room. Oh but back to the story, so the king was pleased but grew even more curious! Believe it or not, out of all the guards asked ME to come forth and stretch Faendal to see at which point the boy would protest. I was so afraid to break him, I was probably sweating more than him, specially terrifying was that he never protested as I kept stretching him further and further. I looked at the king in hope that he'd stop this because I couldn't believe what I was doing to the poor boy! I'm just a mere guard, not a torturer, I'm not paid for that stuff. To my relief the king finally said enough was enough. I so carefully released the boy and whispered how sorry I am for doing this. He stared at me with his wonderful big eyes and smiled, whispering quietly that it was completely fine. I was both relieved and amazed! The king talked more with the ambassador and after a while it was decided that the boy's gonna stay in the town for a year and perform from time to time, while I'd have to take care of him. Never know what the fortune brings! So the year passed, but Faendal decided to stay here as my squire, the king found himself a new toy already, so Faendal is pretty much all mine now."

"Great story, man," my dad nodded. "Should tell it to a bard, sounds like a great song material to me. Could even become famous with a good bard."

"Ahaha, yeah! I will if I meet one. Gotta love that story myself, never thought it could happen to me, what a boring life I had before I met my beloved squire! And I was never into elves or their bendy things before, never thought a day would come I'd be so crazy about it!"

"Haha, I know, right? I never was into bending myself, saw them Dragondancers a lot but never was quite into it until my dear Lithedhil started taking interest in it."

"Dad, I think it's you who wanted me to try it," I protested.

"Yeah but just among many other things, it's you who really took interest in it. Remember I bought you a lute for birthday, it became just a decoration on the wall, never really saw you play it."

"Umm... I suppose you're right, dad. Sorry I never really played that beautiful lute you bought for me but... my fingers just refused to work on those strings and I was terrified of the horrible sound I was making..."

"That's fine," dad smiled at me. "My dear, nine out of ten elves can play the lute, but only one out of ten elves can do the Dragondance. Guess what makes me happier as a father?"

"Thanks, dad. You know how much I'm in love with flexibility, I can't even..." I rolled my eyes searching for words that could even describe it...

"You're just like my Faendal," the barbarian was looking at me with admiration. "The more you bend him the happier the look on his pretty face!"