by Rowan Bree
You take a sip as the duke’s hand wanders up your thigh. You did not expect him to be so bold, and wonder if all the men at the feast are like this. You think about Vale running his gloved hand down the back of some unknown woman. The thought makes you sick.
“Relax,” the duke says, chewing on a leg of lamb while his hand continues to wander. “Look around you, everyone’s having fun.”
He points his half-eaten lamb at a table near yours. At first it just looks like one of the maids is teasing an overly drunk minotaur guard by sitting on his lap, until you notice her underpants pulled down to her knees and the visible blush on her cheeks. The guard has one of his hands up her blouse. No one around them seems to be paying the pair any mind.
“And over there,” the duke says. His hand slides over your breast.
He indicates down underneath the tabletop and you duck your head to look. A few seats down you can see a man on his knees, his face buried between two soft female thighs. You sit up and can see the noblewoman conversing with the man across from her as if nothing is amiss.
You feel cold air on your nipple and push the duke’s hand off you, covering yourself.
“No need to be shy,” he says.
You’re here to recruit the man for Vale, not let him molest you in public. But maybe giving him what he wants is the best way to get what you want.
The duke coaxes you. “No one will even know.”
Pleasure the duke.
Trick him into going upstairs with you.
Deciding on the path of least resistance, you approach the duke. He glances up at you and does a double take, frantically wiping his greasy fingers on his robes before taking your hand.
He plants a wet kiss on the back of your hand. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says. “Though you probably already know who I am.”
You don’t, but you nod anyway. “I’m from Doria,” you tell him. “I don’t make it out much.”
The duke, still holding your hand, gives it another wet kiss. “Well, you should make the most of your visit to the capital. Come, sit. Have a drink with me.” He pulls you down onto the bench beside him. The young man he is with silently places a goblet in front of you and pours wine for you both.
You take a large sip as the duke’s hand wanders up your thigh. You did not expect him to be so bold, and wonder if all the men at the feast are like this. You think about Vale running his gloved hand down the back of some unknown woman. The thought makes you sick.
“Relax,” the duke says, chewing on a leg of lamb while his hand continues to wander. “Look around you, everyone’s having fun.”
He points his half-eaten lamb at a table near yours. At first it just looks like one of the maids is teasing an overly drunk minotaur guard by sitting on his lap, until you notice her underpants pulled down to her knees and the visible blush on her cheeks. The guard has one of his hands up her blouse. No one around them seems to be paying the pair any mind.
“And over there,” the duke says. His hand slides over your breast.
He indicates down underneath the tabletop and you duck your head to look. A few seats down you can see a man on his knees, his face buried between two soft female thighs. You sit up and can see the noblewoman conversing with the man across from her as if nothing is amiss.
You feel cold air on your nipple and push the duke’s hand off you, covering yourself.
“No need to be shy,” he says.
You’re here to recruit the man for Vale, not let him molest you in public. But maybe giving him what he wants is the best way to get what you want.
The duke coaxes you. “No one will even know.”
Pleasure the duke.
Trick him into going upstairs with you.
Though an easy target, you decide against the duke. You approach the crowd of women.
One of the women wrestles the wine carafe from a serving girl and refills the handsome man’s goblet. “Why don’t you come visit Hilfair sometime? We’re known for our rolling hills, deep valleys, and moist caves.”
You throw up a bit in your mouth.
“I prefer the sea myself,” the man replies politely. “It offers me the solitude I can’t find on land.”
The woman doesn’t seem to take the hint. “But surely a prince needs a princess,” she replies. “It would be a waste for a man like you to deprive yourself of a woman’s touch.” Her hand rests on his chest.
The man looks out towards the hall as if searching for a way out. His eyes catch yours.
“I’ve already met my princess,” he says extracting him from the touchy women. “And it looks like she’s just arrived.”
He makes his way towards you as the women look on in shock. When he gets close he says to you in a small voice, “I’m sorry to put you on the spot. Do you mind getting me out of here?”
You nod and the two of you move away from the table. When you’re fully out of earshot you ask him who he is.
“I’m Hawke, chief of the sea tribes. I usually avoid these kinds of affairs, but I was told the king had a big announcement to make tonight and I don’t like hearing news secondhand.”
A chief, you think. Vale would no doubt be pleased to exert his influence over the sea tribes.
“Do you want to go somewhere until then?” you ask. “There’s a bit of a private party going on upstairs that might be more to your liking. Only people of consequence are allowed so no women trying to grab for status.”
Hawke laughs. “If only my status was the only thing those women were after. Who are you, then, to know about such a party?”
You smile. “Someone of consequence,” you say.
Hawke rubs his chin. “I appreciate the invitation but I think I’ll stay with the masses. More anonymity, more places to hide.”
“Are you sure?” you ask.
Hawke nods and starts away from you.
You feel a swell of energy deep in your gut, magic wanting to manifest itself. Something tells you that you could persuade the sea chief to follow you if only you tapped into this power.
Use your magic.
Let him go.
Though an easy target, you decide against the duke. You approach the crowd of women.
One of the women wrestles the wine carafe from a serving girl and refills the handsome man’s goblet. “Why don’t you come visit Hilfair sometime? We’re known for our rolling hills, deep valleys, and moist caves.”
You throw up a bit in your mouth.
“I prefer the sea myself,” the man replies politely. “It offers me the solitude I can’t find on land.”
The woman doesn’t seem to take the hint. “But surely a prince needs a princess,” she replies. “It would be a waste for a man like you to deprive yourself of a woman’s touch.” Her hand rests on his chest.
The man looks out towards the hall as if searching for a way out. His eyes catch yours.
“I’ve already met my princess,” he says extracting him from the touchy women. “And it looks like she’s just arrived.”
He makes his way towards you as the women look on in shock. When he gets close he says to you in a small voice, “I’m sorry to put you on the spot. Do you mind getting me out of here?”
You nod and the two of you move away from the table. When you’re fully out of earshot you ask him who he is.
“I’m Hawke, chief of the sea tribes. I usually avoid these kinds of affairs, but I was told the king had a big announcement to make tonight and I don’t like hearing news secondhand.”
A chief, you think. Vale would no doubt be pleased to exert his influence over the sea tribes.
“Do you want to go somewhere until then?” you ask. “There’s a bit of a private party going on upstairs that might be more to your liking. Only people of consequence are allowed so no women trying to grab for status.”
Hawke laughs. “If only my status was the only thing those women were after. Who are you, then, to know about such
a party?”
You smile. “Someone of consequence,” you say.
Hawke rubs his chin. “I appreciate the invitation but I think I’ll stay with the masses. More anonymity, more places to hide.”
“Are you sure?” you ask.
Hawke nods and starts away from you.
You feel a swell of energy deep in your gut, magic wanting to manifest itself. Something tells you that you could persuade the sea chief to follow you if only you tapped into this power.
Use your magic.
Let him go.
You kiss him back, savoring the smoky taste of him. The cart jostles making your teeth bump together. Eli laughs.
He asks, “I guess it wasn’t a good date?”
“Shut up,” you tell him.
He hikes up your dress and pulls you onto his lap. Though you know Sybil and Jasper are just on the other side of the tower of crates, you let the elf remove your panties. You watch as they fly away on the wind.
“Whoops,” Eli says. His grin is anything but apologetic.
You shove him backwards and kiss him hard. He pulls your dress up further and you can feel the cool night air on your wet pussy. Eli’s fingers are cool too, but warm quickly as he tickles you. You reach into his pants and stroke his cock.
The wind shifts and bits of Jasper and Sybil’s conversation drift towards you. They seem to be talking about you but you can’t make much out between the jostling of the cart and Eli’s soft moans in your ear.
Eli stops teasing you and pulls your hips closer.
“I’ve wanted this since I first saw you in the castle dungeon,” he says.
“Well lucky you,” you reply.
You push down his pants and press yourself against the length of his cock. You rub against his stiff member, your clit tingling from the stimulation. He moans and tries to reposition to enter you. But you’re not going to let him inside.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he groans. He turns his head away, his face screwed up in concentration as he tries to hold back.
You hump against him harder. You can feel his heartbeat in his pulsing cock, then a thick wet warmth as he cums all over your pussy. You cling to him, your hips moving faster and faster as you near orgasm. You bite down hard on Eli’s shoulder and let out a muffled cry.
You continue to cling to him as you come down from your high. He strokes your back and chuckles softly in your ear.
“You think you could go another?” he asks, his finger pressing against your ass. Even the slight pressure makes you moan and you can feel your body opening to welcome him.
You reach for his cock but he stops you, tucking it back into his pants.
He says, “I want to see how many times you can cum before we make it to the outpost.”
Horny as you are, you think he might lose count before then.
You kiss Eli deeply as he teases you with his finger, coaxing him to penetrate you. He slides his finger between your labia until it’s slick then presses again against your ass. This time it slips in.
Eli gently fucks your ass with his finger as you hump against him. You can tell that the elf is still hard through his pants. He slips in another finger and your body instinctively clenches. You can feel yourself coming again.
“Number two,” Eli chuckles as you collapse against him. “Oh don’t worry, you’re safe. I was just counting.”
You smack him in the chest for ruining the mood.
Eli smiles. “Oh, we’re not done yet.”
Continue.
“We’re here.”
Exhausted, you lie back in the cart. You feel as if all your muscles have turned to butter and you can’t even muster the willpower to fix your dress still hiked up around your waist. Not once did Eli climax himself, though you could tell he wanted to. You wonder if he enjoys denying himself like that.
“Shit, almost forgot.”
A folded piece of parchment lands on your chest.
“You were supposed to read this before we got there. Jasper didn’t know how to tell you this in person. Despite what you may think, he’s kind of a pussy.”
You unfold the parchment. Jasper’s handwriting is small and scratchy but perfectly legible. You recognize it from the note you found in your pocket, the one telling you to go to Tyven. In the light of the moon you read.
Since you are reading this, it must mean that Vale is dead. He made me promise to let you decide who you wanted to be, which side you would choose. A do-over of sorts after you lost your memory. Vale claimed it was the only fair way. You are probably wondering why I agreed to Vale’s wishes, but my relationship with the mage was far too complex to explain in one letter. Perhaps in time you will come to understand the bonds that tied us together. Maybe not forgive, but at least understand. What I am about to write I should have told you back in the forest that first time we met.
You are from Doria. You watched as the Order rose to power and slowly turned your city into a church for the worship of their gods. Whether you never believed in the Order, or were a devotee with a change of heart, I do not know. What I do know is that you decided to try and warn Tyven of the growing threat the Order posed.
My friends and I first heard of you when you were captured on the way to Tyven. You were to be tried for treason in Doria. We already knew somewhat of the Order’s plans, and knew you would be a valuable asset to our cause. So we coordinated a rescue operation to spirit you from the prison convoy heading back to Doria.
Unfortunately all did not go as planned. In the scuffle I lost sight of you and had to make a quick getaway. I hoped you were safe and tried looking for you in the forest afterwards. There I ran into Vale, who was looking for you too. He told me that you lost your memory, and it was then that we made our little bargain at your expense.
I suspected he was lying about your memory loss, but when I met you on that forest road you confirmed my worst fears. It was then I realized the stakes I was playing with. From then on I kept an eye on you and tried to subtly guide you towards our cause. Whether it was my efforts or chance that brought us together, I’m glad to have finally found the opportunity to give you this letter.
Here’s to hoping that your memories will one day return. And if not, we’ll just have to make some new, better ones. And here’s to saving the kingdom and seeing the Order crushed once and for all.
It’s an honor to fight at your side,
Jasper Swift
You close the letter and tuck it into your dress. The stars seem too bright. Is this who you were all along? It seems fate did its job of bringing you back where you belong—with the resistance, with Eli.
Epilogue.
You put your hand on his chest, stopping him.
“I guess you had a good date with Jasper,” he says.
“I’m sorry,” you reply.
He says nothing but smiles and leans back to look at the stars. You see a flicker of flame and smell smoke. You too watch the stars, marveling at the series of events that brought you here.
Eli pulls a folded piece of parchment from his tunic. He hands it to you.
“Jasper told me to give this to you. He didn’t know how to tell you in person. Despite what you may think, he’s kind of a pussy.”
You take the parchment and unfold it. Jasper’s handwriting is small and scratchy but perfectly legible. You recognize it from the note you found in your pocket, the one telling you to go to Tyven. In the light of the moon you read.
Since you are reading this, it must mean that Vale is dead. He made me promise to let you decide who you wanted to be, which side you would choose. A do-over of sorts after you lost your memory. Vale claimed it was the only fair way. You are probably wondering why I agreed to Vale’s wishes, but my relationship with the mage was far too complex to explain in one letter. Perhaps in time you will come to understand the bonds that tied us together. Maybe not forgive, but at least understand. What I am about to write I should have told you back in
the forest that first time we met.
You are from Doria. You watched as the Order rose to power and slowly turned your city into a church for the worship of their gods. Whether you never believed in the Order, or were a devotee with a change of heart, I do not know. What I do know is that you decided to try and warn Tyven of the growing threat the Order posed.
My friends and I first heard of you when you were captured on the way to Tyven. You were to be tried for treason in Doria. We already knew somewhat of the Order’s plans, and knew you would be a valuable asset to our cause. So we coordinated a rescue operation to spirit you from the prison convoy heading back to Doria.
Unfortunately all did not go as planned. In the scuffle I lost sight of you and had to make a quick getaway. I hoped you were safe and tried looking for you in the forest afterwards. There I ran into Vale, who too was looking for you. He told me that you lost your memory, and it was then that we made our little bargain at your expense.
I suspected he was lying about your memory loss, but when I met you on that forest road you confirmed my worst fears. It was then I realized the stakes I was playing with. From then on I kept an eye on you and tried to subtly guide you towards our cause. Whether it was my efforts or chance that brought us together, I’m glad to have finally found the opportunity to give you this letter.
Here’s to hoping that your memories will one day return. And if not, we’ll just have to make some new, better ones. And here’s to saving the kingdom and seeing the Order crushed once and for all.
It’s an honor to fight at your side,
