Chapter 206: Comfort

**Chapter 206 Comfort**

Percy tidied the bookshelf and climbed into bed. He lay flat on the edge, expecting Elu to roll over and snuggle against him as usual.

The candles were out, the room silent, but Elu remained on his side, showing no sign of moving closer.

After a long hesitation, Percy gently placed a hand on Elu’s shoulder.

The Elven King had always passively accepted whatever Elu did—whether it was the first embrace or the intimacy they shared in South Lake Town. Percy had never dared to take initiative before, but tonight gave him courage. Carefully, he turned onto his side and pressed close to Elu.

Elu’s long hair brushed against his wrist, sending a faint tingling sensation.

Elu murmured softly, “While I slept, the elves changed a lot.”

Percy replied, “Yes. The succubus who came from afar brought many things—customs, traditions, festivals, and even marriage. Lately there have been many weddings among the elves. I think you’d like them.”

Elu’s voice sounded muffled. “Do you like weddings?”

Percy hesitated, then hedged, “Everyone would enjoy holding a ceremony with the one they love, wouldn’t they?”

Next morning, Elu slept late as usual while Percy, busy with duties, left early.

Home alone, Elu wandered aimlessly to the balcony and started sorting through the flowers tossed in the night before.

The balcony was practically buried in blooms—thornless roses, large peonies, clusters of hydrangeas, and dozens of tiny, nameless wildflowers.

The air was thick with fragrance as Elu stood barefoot among the blossoms, staring blankly.

66 cracked an eye open and thought, *Those crafty elves.*

While Elu slept, the system had slipped out more than once to wander around. The flowers on the balcony never lasted until morning—the Elven King would bundle them up by dawn and place them in vases in the meeting room, making sure none stayed at home.

But now that Elu was back, Percy didn’t even bother clearing the balcony anymore.

Having seen enough of these little lover’s games, 66 rolled over and went back to sleep, ignoring everything.

The Elven King’s balcony was on the second floor, shielded by wrought-iron railings. Sitting among the flowers, Elu couldn’t be seen from below. Not long after Percy left, another elf sneaked up and threw something onto the balcony.

This time, it wasn’t just flowers—it was also a letter.

Tucked among the blooms, the letter had no envelope. One glance was enough for Elu to read what was written.

It was a love poem.

Copied from some old book, it was the sort of flowery verses bards used to charm young girls—full of grandiose promises about waking together, sleeping together, weathering storms together, and watching the sun and moon rise side by side.

Elu took two steps forward and bent down to pick it up. But as he lowered his head, he found himself face-to-face with the messenger through the iron bars.

It was a male elf—handsome, young.

Elu remembered him. He had personally guided this soul into reincarnation, and had been quite pleased with the face he gave him.

Now, though, Elu found the sight displeasing.

—This elf was coveting his Elven King.

They stared at each other. The elf looked startled. Elu straightened, his silver lashes dipping slightly as he studied the elf impassively. His silver eyes were emotionless, like a god surveying mortals.

The elf clearly startled. “You…?”

No elf had ever gazed directly upon the face of a deity, and with Elu having slumbered for so long, the younger elves had never even glimpsed the fleeting form of the Mother Goddess.

The elf only knew that the deity usually resided in the treetops and was currently away handling the Withering. Thus, he didn’t dare connect the unfamiliar youth before him with the Mother Goddess.

Moreover, the deity wasn’t wearing his usual robes but rather an ordinary elven garment taken from the Elven King’s wardrobe.

So, the elf glanced around conspiratorially and whispered, "...Why are you on the Elven King’s balcony? Come out quickly. Daytime flower-tossing is harmless enough, but sneaking in and getting caught will get you chewed out by Lord Percy."

Elu replied coldly, "I didn’t sneak in."

He had no need to climb onto a balcony.

"You didn’t?" The elf looked genuinely baffled as he scrutinized Elu suspiciously. "...You—judging by your appearance, are you an outsider?"

The silver hair and silver eyes were way too distinctive—the elves’ favorite color scheme, as it was the Mother Goddess's colors, resembling the moon hanging high over Pine Mountain. In elven poetry, the Mother Goddess was often equated with the moon, and the moon frequently symbolized her. Any creature bearing silver-white coloring was given special treatment by elves.

Elves didn’t possess such coloring, but Succubi and Sea Demons did. Combined with Elu’s non-elven ears, he had to be an outsider.

"..."

A deity appearing on the Elven King’s balcony and secretly reading someone else’s love poem sounded kinda pathetic.

Elu remained silent, letting the assumption stand.

The elf’s expression grew even more bewildered. "How come I've never seen you around? Did the Elven King bring you in?"

With the new policies in place, outsiders had gradually begun visiting the clan, most of them the partners of elves. But he had never laid eyes on this Silverhaired Beauty before.

Perhaps only someone of the Elven King’s stature could sneak such a looker in from beyond Pine Mountain.

Elu: "."

He hesitated slightly before going along with it again.

The elf fidgeted nervously, lowering his voice even further. "Then... are you... Lord Percy’s... partner?"

Only the Elven King’s partner would be permitted on his balcony—and besides...

The male elf’s gaze swept over Elu once more. Those clothes were unmistakably the Elven King’s.

A foreign beauty had appeared in the Elven King’s bedroom, wearing his clothes.

For some reason, Elu still didn’t deny it.

The elf took two steps back, managing a strained smile. "My apologies. I won’t come to deliver flowers again. Forgive the intrusion... Er, happy marriage to you."

He turned and fled, disappearing into the woods in a flash.

"..."

Happy marriage?

Elu sat back down, gazing absently into the distance.

The love letter remained tucked neatly among the hydrangeas, left behind by the male elf, still visible at the edge of Elu's sight.

The male elf had poured out his heart carefully, making his case for wanting to enter into marriage with the Elven King.

And so, for some inexplicable reason, Elu found himself irritated again.

He knew the customs of humans—loving partners would enter into a covenant, exchanging vows, and from then on, no one could separate them. They would live together, eat together, sleep together, and share life's sunshine and storms, just as described in the letter.

Would Percy do this with someone else?

Would he share a bed with another, embrace them, exchange kisses? Would he even wear that silver-chained ceremonial robe, baring himself under another’s gaze, his eyes flickering between pain and pleasure?

A quiet ache of sorrow rose in Elu’s heart.

Why did elves need partners?

Couldn’t Percy stay with him forever, living and sleeping together?

The god gazed absently at the distant Mother Tree, where lanterns glowed—elves carrying them as a new couple stood beneath the Elven King’s witness, exchanging vows. Meanwhile, Elu sat alone on the balcony, his mind filled with questions: *Why do people marry? Why do elves marry?*

Gods didn't understand marriage. Their lives were too long, accustomed to companions coming and going. If sex and love were biological instincts even gods couldn't escape, marriage was a human-invented tradition—something Elu couldn’t comprehend.

All he knew was that if Percy married, he could no longer sleep pressed against him, and no one would braid his hair for him.

The Mother Goddess forbade it.

So, Elu began to ponder: What did marriage involve? What had he not done yet? If he did those things, would the Elven King no longer seek a partner?

The deity searched through his limited knowledge of marriage before finally pulling a customs novel from the Elven King’s bookshelf. He pored over it intently.

After marriage, partners must live together.

—They already lived together.

After marriage, they must eat and sleep together.

—They already ate and slept together.

Marriage required vows, promises of never parting.

—The deity had already sworn it—he had granted the elf eternal companionship.

Elu read further.

After marriage, regular physical intimacy was expected.

—Hmm… this one hadn’t been done yet.

The deity snapped the book shut, enlightened.

Elu had fully grasped it now.

Percy enjoyed this—he remembered.

That first time at South Lake, Percy had enjoyed it very much. Later, he'd even begged for it, though he had mysteriously pulled away halfway. Still, Elu was certain he liked it.

If he just provided this, Percy wouldn’t marry anyone else.

So that night, when Percy finished washing up and climbed into bed as usual, he found Elu nestling against him again.

The Elven King wrapped his arms around his deity, skin touching skin, nuzzling the deity’s cheek until warmth flooded his chest. Though he always seemed shy sharing a bed with the deity, only Percy himself knew how desperately he craved it.

Only through such closeness could he truly feel the deity’s affection.

Burdened by two lifetimes of regrets, the elf desperately needed proof—to finally mend what was broken.

But when he blew out the lantern and embraced the deity as they lay down to sleep, Elu's hand came to rest on the button at his collarbone.

The deity's slender fingers effortlessly unfastened it, icy fingertips grazing his skin and sending shivers across it.

Elu asked, "Is this what you want?"

The elf's voice trembled, leaving him speechless.

The deity leaned closer, his moonlight-pale hair spilling across Percy's chest like a silken cascade, eliciting waves of tingling pleasure. As it brushed against two sensitive spots, the body beneath his hands quivered softly.

Percy closed his eyes, feeling the touch trail from his collarbone downward, past the defined ridges of his abdomen. His body tensed instinctively, but this time he had no urge to flee or pull away. Instead, he allowed the deity to lift his shirt and touch an unexpected place.

The elf submitted willingly, his form supple and yielding.

Just as Elu was about to continue—his touch still inexperienced—Percy’s hand also settled on his shoulder.

Elu was still wearing the Elven King's robe, each button of which Percy had undone countless times. With practiced ease, he loosened the garment, letting the fabric hang loosely from the deity’s shoulders.

Yet his fingertips trembled, lacking the courage to proceed further.

For thousands of years, every inch of the deity’s skin had been carefully veiled by cloth, never exposed, never touched by mortal hands. Percy lowered his gaze, even that brief glance feeling sudden and awkward.

But with the slightest movement from Elu, the smooth silk slipped from his shoulders, gathering at his hips.

This was part of love’s natural progression—Elu understood.

Faced with the deity’s openness, Percy shed his hesitation. Propping himself up slightly, he cautiously placed his fingers just below the deity’s navel.

"Let me," Percy murmured, his emerald eyes shadowed beneath his lashes, their expression unreadable.

"I want you to feel good too," he said softly.