Chapter Text
Shackles bound his wrists behind his back and a muzzle pressed against the prisoner’s face. His face burned with humiliation as he was escorted into the arena.
“Keep walkin’,” the guard ordered and slammed his foot on the captive’s back. “The wizard’s not gonna wait all day for you.”
He bared his teeth in warning, ears pulling back.
Tension had been brewing between his kingdom and the humans for some time now. Though he’d never expected to be whisked away from his own territory.
Like some exotic animal.
King Broflovski was known for his sharp, barbed tongue, and said to take down human armies. Some would claim he’d been responsible for ransacking villages, of lighting fire to those who wandered too deeply into elven territory.
None of them could be any further from the truth.
Such was the frayed hope with humans that the elven king Kyle never stepped foot into human territories. In fact, Larnion had been declared a neutrality zone and would only leave the lands for political reasons.
His thoughts were promptly shut at the arena.
Jeers rung from the crowds at the sight of him, making his tufted tail lash back and forth. It was worse than if he’d been brought to the barracks and was beaten with a whip. Even that would’ve been a much better outcome. Instead it felt as if he were being led into the lion’s den, about ready to be devoured.
“People of Zaron!” A familiar booming voice rang out.
Of course it had to be Cartman. Not that he hadn’t known it already, but the wizard’s mere presence made Kyle let loose a low, vicious growl which only earned him another shove from behind. He struggled to remain standing and swatted at the other with his tail, knocking them off balance.
“Why, you little-”
“Enough,” Cartman barked. “We’re about to finish all the preparations for our wonderful hunt.”
Hunt?
His ears gave a twitch as he stared Cartman down, waiting for the wizard to continue whatever this was. He felt too exposed – like a deer cornered by wolves.
“Today marks a special event for everyone! Our treasured hunters will have a specific target and it is none other than the elven king!”
This had to be a joke. Some sick, demented joke Cartman was playing on him.
“To make things entertaining, our little elf will have until sunrise tomorrow to avoid meeting his end! Good luck, Kyle,” Cartman grinned at his prisoner. “And to raise the stakes, we’ll be fitting the treacherous king himself with a fancy, little collar!”
Kyle’s tail thumped against the ground, cursing up a storm, as one of the guards grabbed him by the neck. He fought against the shackles and snarled, feet digging into the dirt in a futile effort to escape. His words were soon cut off with a gasp at the metal digging on his neck, squirming helplessly when it clicked on.
“You’re not escaping us this time,” the guard hissed into his ear. He grabbed onto the royal’s arm, hauling him back up. “You’d better be looking twice when you run.”
The elven king growled before trying to throw his weight back the minute he was dragged forward. Right to the center of a path which led toward the forest. Kyle’s ears swiveled to both sides, much like a deer, almost jumping when the binds on his arms were removed.
His body tensed on instinct.
And then the hunting horn blared loudly, and the hold on him was released. Without thinking, Kyle shot forward and took off in the forest’s direction, needing to find shelter. The collar pulsed in discomfort, keeping his magic at bay.
Elemental magic was the fundamental source for elves, and being cut off from it left him stripped to his core. His very essence had been stripped away from him – completely naked in front of his adversaries. He couldn’t slow down now.
That kind of luxury didn’t exist during a hunt.
Except he knew a forest better than people. Kyle felt the winds shift, and heard hooves rumbling on the ground. Exhaling, he found himself going right – venturing deeper within and through a tangle of bushes, hoping it’d at least delay the hunters. He’d have to confront them eventually, fight with every fiber of his being, though right now the king needed a high vantage point.
His tail lifted off of the ground, keeping his steps as light as possible. The less sound he made the better.
Kyle wasn’t sure how long he’d been walking for.
He couldn’t hear the hunters. Nor of their horses, let alone if they had any hunting hounds. The king honestly didn’t know how far Cartman was willing to take this.
Tense silence filled the air.
He cautiously walked forward, keeping alert for any impending sense of danger. Kyle paused at the beat of full quiet – no birds, not even a mouse – and a small curse slipped its way free from his lips.
Before the royal elf could even process anything, a low click rang out and then it encased around his body.
“Fuck-” He exclaimed as the net sprung at him, dragging the prey – elf – upright. Kyle’s tail lashed from behind him in agitation, fingers pulling at the ropes but nothing budged. He was completely trapped.
At the hunters’ mercy.
He struggled frantically, willing his magic to appear before a rough jolt made Kyle cry out in pain. Heavy, quick pants escaped him, and pawed desperately for anything to give. His ears suddenly pricked up, feeling every muscle in his body freeze at the sudden crunch of leaves.
Someone had found him.
Was he about to meet his demise here?
An arrow pulled up, aiming directly at his face.
Kyle’s lips curled back into a snarl, tail swinging wildly from behind. He knew he was about to be killed, but the king wouldn’t back down so easily.
“Oh fuck,” a voice muttered.
His heart raced, staring them down.
He was going to die. Likely trussed up like someone’s trophy.
Would this hunter let him bleed out slowly? Would they toy with him first before killing him?
Why didn’t he just take the kill shot?
“If you’re going to kill me, just do it already.” Kyle hissed, staring directly at a pair of dark blue eyes.
His hunter.