"…that's not what I'm saying. I'm all for helping people, but we can't do it for free! We need to ask for a reward and get paid," Celeria said. The confident adventurer flicked a strand of her golden hair away from her blue eyes to look at her companion directly.
"Ask payment from whom? The peasant? You can't demand money from someone who doesn't have any!" replied Peonie. She was a somewhat athletic, lithe woman with long chestnut hair and determined green eyes.
"And are we better off? At this rate, we'll have to sleep in the stables the next town over! Do you want to sleep next to some stinking horses?"
Peonie shivered, "Eww, no. Ok, you might have a point. But we would have more money if I hadn't had to pay for someone's bail or their new change of clothes…"
"Make way! Count's guard coming through." A mounted knight excused himself as his horse trotted between the two women. "Wait, is that-?"
The man pulled the reins, his horse neighed as it stopped and turned around. The knight dismounted and approached Celeria, raising his visor to stare at her face.
"…Yes? Can I help you?"
The man raised his hands to squish the tips of Celeria's pointy ears. "You are an elf!"
"Ah! That's none of your business." Celeria briskly pushed the man away.
"Please, good knight, don't mind my friend here." Peonie interceded, smiling warmly. She leaned forward to whisper to him. "She's just sensitive about her ears. She thinks they are fat."
"I heard that! My ears aren't fat!"
"I never said they were. There is no such thing! Why are you so sensitive about them? Did the other elves make fun of them when you were a kid?"
The confused man finally found his opening in the conversation. "So, you are an elf! Listen, the Count is searching far and wide for one of your kind. He is willing to reward you handsomely for your services."
"Sorry, but I'm not a courtesan."
"No, nothing of the kind. The Count's daughter's birthday is coming up, and the little runt--royal princess demands to see a real elf. The job would be to go to his castle and ...play along for her birthday."
Celeria shrugged. "Sure, I could use the coin. How hard can it be?"
Celeria's lips turned upside down. She was staring at her reflection. Her green cloak and sensible pants were gone. They were replaced by just one garment and a couple of flowers attached to her hair. She was wearing a green leotard that hugged her athletic curves somewhat tightly.
The adventurer stretched the green fabric over her stomach and stopped. She could hear it tearing.
"You look adorable!" Peonie said with a mocking smile.
"No, I don't!"
"Aww, the grumpy elf is blushing!"
Celeria pouted and stomped the stone floor with her bare feet. The leotard did nothing to cover her toned legs. "We elves are a proud race! We don't prance around the forest wearing this... this ridiculous thing!"
"Want to quit the job? I thought you didn't want to sleep on the stables."
Celeria rested her back on the wall. "No, I´m already here so might as well get this over with. It's not like this is even the most embarrassing thing to happen to me this week. At least I'm getting paid this time."
The shrill sound of a hail of trumpets rang loudly from outside the room. "That's your cue. Good luck!"
Celeria left the room to enter the small castle's courtyard, her feet stepping on the sandy ground. Wooden walls surrounded the space outside the stone fortress where the party was taking place.
Colorful flags hung above Celeria's head. Tables full of food and drinks filled the courtyard, with nobles and merchants helping themselves to the festivities. A bard provided some ambient music, and there was a small empty area in the middle that was cleared for the performers to do their magic.
A jester finished his routine with a bow and left the space for Celeria. Now it was time for her "elven dance". She bent her knees in a curtsy for her host and his guest of honor.
Count Craktos was a beast of a man. He towered over all the guests, his bald head almost shining like a lighthouse with the sun's reflection. He wore a permanent scowl and had a giant scar etched across his forehead. His daughter sat next to him. She was a delicate maiden wearing a bright pink dress and a conical hat. The princess was propping her head on her hand with her elbow rudely sitting atop the table.
"Look Cactie, a real-life elf!" The man's stern expression vanished when talking to his daughter. The erstwhile scary bear of a man became soft and cuddly in the span of a second.
"Yeah, of course, she is…" the princess rolled her eyes, barely acknowledging Celeria.
"But she is! She is even wearing the traditional elven garb, see? Just like your mother's encyclopedia said. She is going to perform a traditional elven dance for us, right?"
The Count locked eyes with Celeria. The elf couldn't help but gulp. The bear was back, that was not a man she wanted to disappoint.
"Hello! I'm Celeria the elf-Ah!" The girl! She had grabbed her leotard!
"Traditional elven attire? Please. I suppose it's a coincidence that it looks exactly like the leotard the dancing troupe was wearing?" The old garment almost ripped apart as it stretched under Cactie´s delicate fingers, but Celeria skillfully stepped back before it did.
"How about I show you an Elven Happy Birthday dance, eh girl?"
"Why not," Cactie replied with a shrug.
"It couldn´t kill you to look a little more enthusiastic about it," Celeria grumbled.
"What was that?"
"Ermm... Happy Happy Birthday!" As instructed, Celeria began bouncing on her feet and clapping around the courtyard like a mad woman. The leotard didn't offer much support for Celeria's chest, and she wasn't wearing any undergarments underneath. The courtiers gossiped about the sway of Celeria's curvy chest with all her prancing and spinning.
The more quickly she moved, the more her breasts swiveled around. It almost seemed like they were a hair away from popping from the leotard… until they did. The leotard couldn't contain the elf's bouncing chest any longer. Celeria's brown nipples spilled out of the garment to the astonished gasps of every noble and courtier in the County.
"Huh? Eep!" Celeria couldn't help but yelp and cover her chest, her nipples concealed under her hands. The Count was quick to place his hand atop his daughter's eyes.
"Look away, my princess!"
"Yeah, dad, she has nothing I haven't seen before." Cactie slapped his father's hand away from her eyes. "Besides, according to mom's book, elves rarely wear clothes in their forests. They feel no shame, so she should have no problem dancing like that… if she is an elf, that is."
Cactie stared at Celeria smugly with a condescending grin, as if daring her to keep the charade going.
"I... Ugh, fine. Who knows when we'll have another damned elf in our County. Elf girl, remove your leotard and keep dancing!"
Celeria was midway to stuffing her breasts back in place when she shot the Count a look of incredulity. He wanted her to keep dancing with her tits in the air? Bollocks to that! But could she refuse him outright?
There were armed guards at every entrance, which meant that fleeing was a difficult prospect. And if she just said no ...well, Celeria could already see herself a host in the Count's dungeon. The court was practically salivating at the thought of further ridiculing the silly elf in front of them. The only exception was Peonie, who was at the corner of the banquet, stuffing her mouth full of roasted Turkey and giving her a thumbs up. It seemed like the best course of action was…
"Oh my!"
"So it is true what they say of Elven beauty."
"And their lack of shame…"
The leotard lay discarded at Celeria's feet. The things she did for coin… maybe she should have stayed a hunter after all? She took a deep sigh and walked forward, stomping on the cloth to release some of her anger.
Celeria continued her dance au natural. She was more subdued this time. The elf no longer jumped about but bounced on her feet. Instead of doing pirouettes, she bobbed left and right. One of her arms secured her chest in place while the other was pressed against her sex.
"Why are you covering, elf? The encyclopedia says that Elves don't have shame! They only feel happiness and glee."
"Well, elf? You heard my little princess!"
"Who the hell wrote that book?" Celeria muttered as she reluctantly parted her arms at her sides. The court sarcastically gasped when they saw her brown nipples again.
Shooting the Count a defiant stare, Celeria kept going. Her unsupported breasts shook with each step.
Her movements became stilted like those of an automaton. Her legs pressed together, knees bent. She gave her audience a scant opportunity to gawk at the little patch of golden hair between her legs, but she couldn't help to shake her steely behind for the amused court.
Without further ado, Celeria finally ended her dance with a curtsy. The crowd clapped, and Cactie cheered snidely.
"Daddy, make her do this move!" Cactie had the encyclopedia fetched for her. She opened a page and showed it to her dad.
"Yes, Elf. Do this move." The Count held the book up, showing the drawing of a naked elf, arms over her head, spinning on her axis like a top.
"Oh, Goddess no! That´s the last straw. Listen, girl, elves don't dance like that, and we do wear clothes! Guess what, they aren't stupid leotards either!"
Cactie dropped the heavy book on the table as she stood up. "Yes, they do! It says right here in my encyclopedia!"
"Your book is wrong! It says nothing but lies about my kind!"
"How dare you?! My mother wrote this book! And how would you know how in the blazes the elves act?! You are nothing but a courtesan my father paid to disguise herself as an elf! You think I don't know these are fake?"
Cactie grabbed the tip of Celeria's ear and pulled as hard as she could.
"Oww! Stop!" Celeria retaliated by slapping the spoiled woman. The bard stopped playing. The courtesans stopped gossiping. Everyone went silent.
"Wait… those are real?" Cactie whispered to herself as she rubbed her reddened cheek.
"Guards!" Her distraught father called out. "Arrest this woman!"
"Ah, time to get out of here!" Celeria turned around and made a mad dash for the gate. She ducked and picked up the leotard on the way out, nodding at Peonie for her to get a move on.
The gate was closing. Celeria was running with no regard for anything but speed. Her arms swung at her sides, she sidestepped guards and jumped over tables, leaving more than one courtesan scandalized with the close-up of her privates over their food.
She was about to reach the gate, but then she hesitated. Her bow, her dagger, her pants… all her things were still inside. They were probably not worth the risk of turning around and risking a visit to the dungeon.
Gritting her teeth, Celeria managed to slide just under the wooden gate before it closed completely.
Peonie smiled at her naked companion from the other side, the green leotard now her only possession. "Well, that could have gone better. At least you taught the kid a lesson about Elven-"
"Shut up and keep running. The guards are coming!"
Peonie tugged at the leotard hanging from Celeria's hand. "Sure you don't want to put this on before streaking all across castle town?"
A horn blew behind her. "No time!" Clutching her hands over her intimates, Celeria and her partner began the grueling escape through the cramped and crowded corridors of the castle town, leaving a trail of scandalized and amused townsfolk on their way.
Celeria's blush was now hotter than a mage's fireball. This had been her worst quest in a long time. What was with her luck that week?