(Morpheus PoV)

Elissa is held captive in my gaze, yet there is defiance glittering in those emerald eyes.

Desiring her submission, I exert more power and watch as my nephew falls to his knees. Meanwhile the girl, though she trembles, remains resolutely standing.

My interest piqued, I sit a little straighter. Last night when Celestia heralded the girl with such pride, I merely thought her a delicate blossom, which will soon be crushed by the court. Now I am not so sure.

My magic winds around her head, seeking a way inside her mind, yet fails. I may be able to force my way in, but it would be poor sport to break Celestia's new favourite so soon. This may be a greater challenge than I assumed.

Her breath heaves with the effort of withstanding my mental onslaught, bringing my attention to the swell of her chest. Aldebaran, I am impressed. I thought you the dullest of my kin, yet you have evidently defied the court and mated with a non-elf.

Easing off the pressure, I beckon her closer. She obeys, but the emotions playing so clearly across her face let me know that she does so at sufferance. After the emotionally repressed elves at court, it is rather refreshing.

I let a tendril of power wrap around her, amused by the trail of goose flesh left behind on her skin and the widening of her eyes. She is clearly an innocent. I am unable to resist playing and direct a tendril under her skirt.

While she is still held enthralled and is unable to physically move, a wave of dark power lashes out at me. Normally I would demand retribution for an act of defiance, but that tantalising promise of pain leaves me feeling more alive than I have in longer than I care to admit. Fascinating. This little flower has thorns. A rose perhaps?

My sister, or more accurately half-sister, Celestia denies her dark heritage and certainly with each son she has borne the bloodline of my forefathers has become weaker and weaker. Nevertheless, I sense that there is a great untapped dark power within this girl.

Releasing my magical hold on her, I stand and tower over her petite form. I place my hands on her shoulders and bend to kiss both cheeks, lingering long enough to make her squirm.

"Elissa, welcome to Alfheimr."

She curtsies again, lowering her eyes. "Thank you, my king."

I like the sound of those words from her mouth. When she rises, she refrains from looking directly at me and my lips curl into a rare smile. My sweet rose, I am not so easy to defeat.

With a wave of my hand, Aldebaran's eyes glaze over, and he becomes like a statue, still kneeling before me. With him indisposed, I place an arm around her shoulder and guide her into my chair, before taking a seat next to her.

"May I offer you refreshments? Anything you desire," I purr.

"Anything?" she clarifies.

"Anything."

"What I would like is coffee, but there is no such drink here, so it would be unfair of me to ask it of you."

"Just let me in and it will be done."

"Let you in?" she queries hesitantly.

I slide closer, angling my legs around her, one knee bent and the other pressed against her thighs.

"Close your eyes and think of your cough-fee."

Taking one of her hands in mine, I place my other hand over her eyes and attempt to enter her mind. It is confoundingly impenetrable.

"Relax, let down your shields," I whisper.

I feel her hesitate and then I am plunged into an alien environment.

I am assaulted by lights which are far too bright and harsh. The room is large but cluttered with a plethora of inelegant tables and mismatched, uncomfortable looking chairs. The one pleasing thing is the intriguing scents lingering in the air.

I scan the room; the people, possibly peasants, are dressed in the most peculiar fashion, though I use the term fashion very loosely. I spot Elissa sat at a small square table spread with sheets of papers. She seems to have forgotten to put on a skirt, though I admit her legs look fetching in that strange clinging material.

A chunky white cup of poor quality china is nestled in one hand. I allow my magic to curl around it and memorise the contents.

I blink, pleased to be back in my own chamber. That was an exceptionally strong vision.

I conjure the very same cup in her hand and uncover her eyes. She gasps and a warmth blossoms in my chest to bring a genuine smile to her face. Then she takes a sip and moans. I wonder if it is some aphrodisiac.

"Coffee. Proper coffee, pure bliss! How?" she breathes, her eyes shining.

"'Tis only a sample of what I can give you. Now, may I taste this beverage that brings a look of near rapture upon your face?"

Covering her hand with mine, I bring the vessel to my lips and take a draught. Complex notes swirl around my mouth and I am hit with a rush of adrenaline.

"I had expected some sweet affair, yet beneath the pale foam lays a bitter concoction. 'Tis surely a drink for dark elves. See, underneath you truly are one of my own."

She bites her lip rather invitingly and reaches out to wipe a blob of foam from my upper lip. As she is withdrawing, I capture her wrist and suck her finger before releasing her.

She whips back her hand as if scolded and glances over at Aldebaran, frowning to find him still frozen. "What is wrong with my father?"

At a click of my fingers, his eyes refocus, and he rises to his feet.

"Aldebaran, your daughter pleases me. You shall both dine on my side of the table tonight."

He bows and makes some platitude about how they would be honoured, although clearly, they would both rather not. I allow them to make their escape and then ghost across the room.

With my keen ears, I over hear Aldebaran say, "You did very well with the king. I am surprised that you refrained from kneeling before him."

"Oh no! Was I supposed to?" Evident alarm echoes in her voice. "You told me to stand firm. Do you think I offended him?"

"You seem to have earned his respect. However, do not under any circumstances undertake to be alone with him. He is dangerous."

Dangerous? Indeed I am, Aldebaran.

Alfheimr is a tedious place, which I suffer each winter. However, I would rather this than a return to the days of civil war following the defeat of Tartarus. I never expected to be king, but I took the position for the good of my people and to broker peace. Now some eight or is it nine hundred solars later, I have rather lost count, ruling has rather lost its shine.

One might think me callous, that I mourn neither my father nor my brother but 'twas their greed and cruelty which lead to the war with Elysium in the first place.

Now, for the first time in solars, I am not counting the nights until I can escape to my summer retreat in the mountains.

.....

Celestia's face takes on a momentary pinched look to see me swan up to the high table to join the court for dinner on the second night running.

I greet my nephew, Antares. He is unusual, for while his outward appearance is that of a light elf, he is predominantly a dark elf. He even went so far as to marry a dark elven noble who is, I believe, a distant cousin. He may have hoped to secure an heir who could usurp me. Regrettably for them, their union yielded a female. Dark elves can only be ruled by a king.

How contrary is fate? Celestia so desperate for a female heir, has borne four sons. Perhaps that is the reason for her interest in sweet Elissa?

Ah, speak of the angel, she is here and dressed in white again. Celestia dearest, are you staking your claim?

I make sure to get to Elissa first and put out my arm to her. "Come, my princess. You shall sit by my side tonight."

Though his face does not betray it, I can feel the discord from Antares who normally sits on the right side of Celestia or me, when I grace the high table. Tonight, he is relegated to the seat next to Elissa. My power wraps around her like a protective mantle, for I do not trust him.

Towards the end of the table, I overhear Antares's daughter mutter discontentedly in elvish, 'The Dark King should not deign to entertain an elfling'.

Displeased, I turn to face the female. Firstly, I will not suffer anyone casting aspersions on my decisions and secondly, my rose is more powerful than this insipid excuse for a dark elf.

Soon, all eyes turn in the direction of my gaze and the sight of the dark elven princess clutching at her throat, struggling to breathe. When she collapses, falling unconscious and knocking tableware asunder, Elissa gasps.

I stroke her hand. "She is unworthy of your concern." I turn to Antares and coolly say, "You should remove your daughter from my table."

.........

AN - this one goes out fedaykin_here2 - I've given Morpheus his own chapter in this rewrite.