The Kidnapping of a Virgin

[BeautifulYoungPrince]

Aithin is a beautiful, feminine Elven Prince of the Wood, much reminiscent of a younger Legolas (from Lord of the Rings). He has golden, flowing hair down to his mid-back, a fair complexion, full red lips, and a soft, delicate figure. He is a glowing, innocent youth, completely devoid of all sexual knowledge. The young elf seems almost untouchable, like a young god. He appears to be around 16/17 in human years, while he is about 700 years old in elven years (still a youth to them)



Aithin strode down the grassy hill and sat down at the edge of the large, rocky pond, teasing his toes across the rippling, clear water. He wore a simple, small pair of thin cloth shorts to remain decent, but nothing else touched his willowy, feminine body besides the long, flowing waves of honey blonde hair that cascaded down his delicate back. The beautiful youth sighed through his cherry lips and pulled all of his hair forward, enjoying midday as the sun kissed his virgin flesh.

His father, Elendil had been throwing many magnificent parties lately, full of music, dancing and merrymaking on the account of Aithin's brother's return from the far off city of Gondor, where he had had dangerous business to attend. After a light lunch of elvish bread, apples, and singing, the young elf had retired to the pondside for a quiet contimplation of all the newcomers. There were elves here that had travelled from Mirkwood and from Lothlorien, and even some men, all to rejoice something that Aithin did not fully understand yet. His father told him that he would know in time, but that he should not burden himself with such things until he had enjoyed all of his naive youth.

(This is a duplicate rp with a different second character and plot)

 

[GammaHeart]

The lull of conversation and gentle music suddenly shattered, broken by the sounds of shouting, shortly followed by the clashing of steel. A palace guard hailed the prince from his post on the veranda overlooking the grounds.

"My Prince!" He ran up to Aithin, his bow drawn and an arrow nocked, his eyes flickering from the boy to the palace. "It is not safe, something has happened! Run from here, get to the keep!"

 

[BeautifulYoungPrince]

(OOC Ada is elvish for dad, or daddy. Adar is father. )

The young elf jumped at the sudden noises , turning to listen to the guard's hasty words. He felt the back of his neck tingle, and his heart skipped a beat. The first thing he thought of was of course, his family.

"Where is Lord Elendil?" Aithin shouted, but to no avail. The guard had disappeared in a hurry.

Aithin quickly got to his feet and, realizing that wearing only undergarments at this time was likely to be dangerous, threw on his light silken tunic shirt that brushed his middle thigh and tied the waist. He hardly ever wore shoes.

"Ada?" the elf called as he ran forth from the pond, his thoughts riddled with fear, as was his delicate face. "Ada!!"

However, his father did not answer his call. The Prince noticed that as the time passed, as he ran about, the halls were emptying. They were all making for what they called the Deep of Mellon, literally translating from Elvish as the "Keeper of friends". It was one of the safest places to be when danger reared it's ugly head. Aithin knew that of course, special arrangments would be made to secure his father's safety, and the royal family's, but he was not sure whether they had noticed his removal from the party. He had not fled from the main halls with the others.

"Ada..where are you?" Aithin called out, a little quieter this time, as he entered the East Wing. Most of the candles were blown out, so the halls that were shaded by the outside trees were dim and slightly yellowing from the distant sun. The youth hopped over the banister of the hall (which was open, like Rivendell had been carved from wood, and nothing was shut out) and landed on the tree branch of the oak just inside his father's courtyard. Upon touching the ground, Aithin noticed that many of his papers had been strewn about by the wind, floating down from his open-walled office into the grass over which he new stood, frightened.

"A-Ada...?" the elf barely whispered, yelling and the trembling of feet pounding the ground growing further away.