Elgin Alderbirch knew that most stories that turned out to be interesting began with words along the lines of, "When a boy elf and a girl elf love each other… or at least the girl elf loves the boy elf… or they've both just had too much mead…"

His story however, if anything actually worthy of telling had happened in his seventeen summers, would have began, "When a boy elf loves another boy elf…"

Don't get me wrong - he wasn't… wasn't…uh… fey. Far from it. He had been trying to convince everyone of this for most of his life. But there was something about the way his suede breeches hugged his slender, elfin legs, the graceful way he tossed his long, silver hair, his too-white smile and perfect elocution, that meant no-one believed him. He would have been able to live with it, though, had it not been for that dratted Sabin Cedarberry…

"Elgin! Hello! Elgin!" Sabin gestured frantically from the west bank of the River.

Elgin cringed, but carried on dragging his pointed boots through the orange leaves on the east bank.

Please go away. Please. Why me?

When he could no longer ignore Sabin in all politeness, he looked up resignedly.

"Greetings, Sabin. How are you?" he said.

Sabin practically leapt over the stones set in the low, autumn water. Short for an elf, he always moved everywhere lightning fast, and around Elgin he seemed even more animated, if that was possible.

"I'm just great Elgin. How are you? Is that a new smock? It really brings out the green in your eyes." Sabin's words tripped over one another in their rush to escape from his full lips.

"Yes, it's new."

"I thought so. I haven't seen you wearing it before and I've…" Sabin trailed off with a blush. He'd been watching Elgin since the beginning of summer as he went on his daily downstream walk at dusk, but it probably wouldn't be a good idea to tell him this. He quickly changed the topic.

"So what have you been up to since our Apprenticeships finished? I haven't seen you at the Council lately."

"No, I've been busy. Look, did you want something, because I actually have to go?"

"Sorry. I just… You looked lonely. I thought maybe you wanted to… er… wanted some company." Being around Elgin always left Sabin tongue-tied. The way he arched his left eyebrow and fixed his glacial stare on him turned Sabin's insides to jelly. And those eyes - deep hazel with a green rim around his pupil. Sabin felt like such a clumsy oaf compared to Elgin's smooth sophistication.

Stupid, stupid, stupid! Now he thinks you can't even string a sentence together!

His mental forehead slapping was interrupted by Elgin's pointed reply.

"I prefer to walk alone," he said.

Elgin was working very hard to maintain his brooding loner image and it wouldn't do to be seen with company. Especially Sabin Cedarberry. But seeing the hurt puppy look in Sabin's brown eyes, he relented.

"Alright then. But I was about to head home."

"That's okay. Do you want to… um… afterwards maybe we can… if you'd like we could go and get iced acorccinos. If you want." Sabin loved acorccinos - a delicious mix of elfin acorn coffee and frothy cream.

"No thanks. They're not really my thing."

"Oh, okay," said Sabin, trying not to let the disappointment show in his voice.

They walked in silence, apart from the underfoot crunch of dry leaves. Sabin couldn't think of anything else to say that wouldn't sound trite and silly, and Elgin didn't seem to want to talk. Instead Sabin stared at Elgin's creamy skin and the way the setting sun turned his hair to molten gold. He thought of his own freckled nose and frizzy black curls pulled back in a rawhide band, and how untidy he must look next to Elgin, whose sleek hair brushed his shoulders and whose clothes never seemed to rumple. Precious Elgin who appeared to glide rather than walk…

Elgin broke the silence. "Sabin, I think you have the wrong idea about me. I'm not… you know…" For once he seemed at a loss for words. "I'm not fey." He whispered it, as though afraid to even voice the dreaded word aloud.

Sabin recoiled as though he had been slapped. "Elgin, I didn't… I never said… is that what you think, that I… ?"

"I think you'd better go," Elgin said softly, almost inaudibly.

Sabin couldn't get away fast enough. He'd never been so ashamed in his life. He ran up the path they'd walked in the leaves, back across the River, up the green bank to the village. He wanted to keep on running, leave behind his burning shame, all the shattered dreams he'd had for the afternoon and forget he'd ever met Elgin and his beautiful eyes.

As his own eyes blurred with unwelcome tears, Sabin failed to see a rock poking out of the grass, and went flying face-first onto the ground. He sat desolately clutching his hurt foot and trying not to watch the distant figure of Elgin draped on the opposite bank with his chin resting on a long white hand.

At that moment, Sabin had never hated anyone so much in his life.