Mason realized he had more to fear inside Nassau than anticipated. These elves were trying to assassinate him through stomach bursting. But like everyone else, they would find him a hard man to kill.

“More cake, lord?” said another beautiful brunette who’s name Mason couldn’t remember. He nodded and she leaned over to serve him, and he kept his eyes squarely on his food.

“Thanks,” he said around a mouthful of…something green. The girl smiled and withdrew as gracefully as she’d appeared. Mason stared at the elves latest weapon, then attacked.

‘Cake’ was apparently the elven version of ‘salad’. It could mean almost anything. But then again maybe human 'cake' could mean almost anything, too. Each dish had a kind of ‘specialist’, with a particular elven woman who had prepared it and took some particular pride. The women would come and explain the food, and often sit right there and watch as Mason ate it.

His ability to make newly appreciate noises and smile had long since been tapped. But the elves seemed genuinely interested in his opinions, more like scientists than chefs— like they might pluck some primal insight from his simple, human brain.

Naya came and went, moving about her people and talking to them like old friends. Every now and then she’d exchange a glance and a smile with Mason, which he hoped meant things were going well.

As far as he was concerned, the ‘cake’ was pretty much all tasteless mush. The long explanation of ingredients and styles was like listening to an artist tell you about the thousand year history of art before someone drew a can of soup.

“It’s very good,” he said, to an elf named Mina.

“Can you taste the silver leaf?” she said, tone like an anthropologist.

“Mmhm,” Mason said, taking another bite. “Delicious.”

Mina looked a little surprised, but smiled politely and nodded, thanking him for trying the dish before leaving him in a few moment’s of blissful peace.

“You can’t taste a thing, can you?”

Naya’s mother appeared beside Mason with a sly grin on her beautiful, and upsettingly youthful face. He sort of froze as he turned and saw her, even pausing his chewing until he’d gathered himself.

“Ayet,” he said, trying to smile. “Of course I can. Look how much I ate.”

“You really are a dreadful liar,” Ayet said, still grinning. She glanced at her daughter. “Naya looks happy. Radiant, actually. I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

Mason hoped that was true. Of course his new bride had also fulfilled her father’s dream, and maybe prophecy. She had found what she believed was some kind of promised land, delivering her people to safety and to a real future beyond the frozen immortality of Shariss. So that probably helped.

Mason was likely just a nice bonus. And all that remained was to start getting elven women pregnant, starting with Naya. But considering Mason had a literal objective to help with that, he knew it must be possible. The only question was if they had to do something—other than the obvious.

“She is pretty wonderful,” he said, watching Naya laugh with a group of elves.

“Her father and brother would have loved to see her like this,” Ayet said, a little moisture in her eyes. Mason turned and took Ayet’s hand. He hadn’t really thought about it, he just saw a woman in pain and it felt like the thing to do.

Ayet flinched in surprise but didn’t pull away, squeezing his fingers a little. Mason searched for something to say, annoyed he still never quite knew how to handle women. Especially elven women. He figured he’d just talk to her like he did a man.

“I met your scout Orlon in the enclave,” he said, drawing at least a curious eyebrow raise. “He’s lost…everyone. Old friends and colleagues. All the other scouts of your husband’s house. I didn’t know what to tell him. Except…they’d won.” He gestured at Naya with a chin. “That’s what a man wants. What soldiers want. They’ve done what they set out to do. They gave their kin a chance. They won.”

Ayet smiled and wiped away a tear. “Yes. Most of them. I thank you, Mason. For everything you’ve done for us.” She looked at him like she wanted to say something else. Then she pulled back her hand and put on the increasingly familiar mask of elven politeness. “Please enjoy the celebration.”

He let her go, no idea what else to say. There was something very tragic about Ayet. He saw a woman who’d been almost imprisoned by culture and circumstance, seemingly punished in every direction for trying to do her duty.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

He resolved himself to find her a husband, and to get Naya’s help. She deserved some happiness, and another chance, just like the rest of them.

But for now the elves kept bringing him food, and he kept eating it. By the time their politeness started turning to amazement and maybe disgust, he decided he’d won the day.

“No more,” he said, waving a hand. “I can’t eat another bite.”

He saw some of the women relax, possibly glad to see he did indeed have physical limits. Naya came up beside him and took his hand, whispering what to do in his ear.

He bowed his head to the women and thanked them, and they all bowed or touched their foreheads. He was almost too full to be horny, but he was at least looking forward to taking Naya back home and relaxing with his women privately for a few hours.

“Now,” his wife said with a renewed smile. “We drink and socialize.”

Mason probably failed with his smile.

* * *

The drinks went much like the food. Though at least now the women were all seated and talking and laughing and Mason didn’t have much focus. He was a lot happier watching other people enjoy themselves.

Every pack of friends or direct kin seemed to have some special ‘brew’ that had been in their families for a thousand years. Each was very excited to reveal hints of secret ingredients.

This time Mason thought it all tasted like vodka. Which was to say, like not very much at all, except alcohol. And probably not enough to affect him with his ridiculous powers.

“Mm, yes, I can taste the fruit,” he said, and Kitya the beastmaster smiled widely.

Naya was sitting at his side now, talking to the elf beside her. She had a hand casually resting on his thigh, which was a bit surprising, and also increasing his impatience to get her home.

“I haven’t found any in your forest yet,” said Kitya, “the climate isn’t quite right. Only berries. Once I run out I’ll have to improvise.”

Mason nodded, really hoping this wasn’t leading to a personal request to harvest plants. He was at least feeling a little drunk. Though he wasn’t sure if it was the strong booze, or being stuffed with mystery plants. But his inhibitions were definitely coming down. He felt himself talking louder, laughing more, his vision was maybe even blurring.

He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be touching Naya in public, but she’d started it. So he definitely went for legs, waist and back like a handsy teenager, and she didn’t seem embarrassed. She even went back and forth between touching his leg or holding his hand, always smiling when she looked at him.

At some point, Kitya had apparently been replaced in the chair with the blonde elf who’d spoken pretty bluntly to Naya when she first announced the dissolution of her house. She was as beautiful as the rest of the elves, but had a definite serious edge.

“We have been wondering how you’ll be arranging our marriages,” she said, after what Mason was pretty sure was not adequate time for elven small talk. He opened his mouth and closed it again, searching for words.

“We, uh, humans…from my culture…we don’t usually ‘arrange’ marriages. We just sorta…meet. People decide on their own.”

The elf stared.

“We don’t know any of the human women. We share no kinship with them. How would we ‘meet’ any men?”

Mason winced, reminded how different these people were. He had no idea what he was about to say, but Naya leaned over his lap.

“We aren’t sure yet, sister. Obviously we could choose at random. But I should think everyone would like some choice. At least take a good look. Or meet the men once, maybe with guardians? What would you prefer?”

The blonde frowned. “They all look the same to me, my lady. I’d just prefer proven fertility.”

It wasn’t what you’d call a ringing endorsement of his species, but Mason tried not to take it personally. Naya nodded along like this made complete sense, and the elf turned back to Mason.

“You are a druid, lord. Are there not spells for such things? Perhaps you could bless us with life. To help the unions succeed.”

Mason nearly choked on his drink imagining how his particular brand of magic might bless them.

“I’m…not a very experienced druid,” he said with a shrug. But he fingered the nymph charm around his neck and pursed his lips. “There might be something, though. I know two nymphs in the great trees.”

“You know nymphs?” said both elves at the same time with wide eyes. Naya practically jumped in his lap as she gripped his hand.

“It is said…bathing in the pool of a nymph makes fertility almost certain, husband.” She licked her lips. “Among other things. Do you know where they are? Where their groves are? Can you find them and force them to obey?”

Force them to ‘obey’? Probably not. Find them? Well. One of them was living in his tree.

He decided not to reveal that little piece of information yet, and just nodded like he was thinking.

“Like I said, I know them. I’m sure they’d help. And I can get to them easily through the Fey,” he said. “It’s not difficult. At least not if your people can follow. And anyway we can get there on land, it’ll just be a couple days of travel.”

Again Naya and the blonde exchanged a look, Naya taking the woman’s hand as she held Mason with the other. They looked up and muttered some kind of prayer before the other elf excused herself.

Naya kissed Mason’s hand, her face a little flush.

“I know I didn’t have time to explain everything, but this celebration is a fertility ritual, husband,” she said. “If we could go to a nymph…if I could bathe in the life-giving waters of Gaia, on the same night as the ritual…” she shook her head, excitement clear in her eyes. “I feel a child would be almost certain. No. I know it.”

Mason was a bit overwhelmed by the idea of imminent fatherhood, especially with multiple women. But he knew this is why Naya and her people had come. It was what he’d promised her.

“OK,” he said, hoping he sobered up quick. “I can take you to Thea. There’s a pool there and an old grove full of life.”

“I’m ready now,” Naya said, practically jumping to her feet before deflating. “But…I’ve never walked the Fey without…what I mean is, I don’t know if I can just…enter, not without a portal.”

“I’ve taken Streak,” Mason said with a shrug as he stood. “I can probably take you.”

“A bonded animal is different, lord. But I can help you,” Ayet said, standing close by. She smiled and gestured for the door. “If your husband opens the passage, I can help guide you through.”

Naya rose and hugged her mother, looking so happy it was hard to look away. She reached for Mason’s hand.