The Feast

by Rowan Bree

The sea chief is asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but you find it a bit harder to drift off. It is only mid-day but a fog has descended over the town making everything grey and dreary. Still you are unable to sleep.

  You go to the window. You can see into the building across the street, through a window opposite yours on the second floor. Rhen is sitting at a desk writing something. He stops and holds up the parchment, waving it in the air to dry the ink. He puts it back down, gazes up at the ceiling. He looks bored.

  Go over there.

  Try to get some rest.

  You ask Hawke if he wants to rest for a bit, at least until you make landfall.

  He declines your offer. “But there is something you can do. Stay here and keep me company so I don’t nod off?”

  You take a seat next to him watching the sun rise over the calm sea. He tells you a bit about the sea tribes, how they are scattered across islands and coastal regions and how he is constantly traveling between them.

  “Is the place we’re going your home?” you ask.

  “The ship is…was my home. Where we’re going is just the first of the sea tribes. A place to rest and eat before we continue on to the larger ports.”

  You can see land ahead. Hawke stands. You watch as the island grows closer. Sparse pines grow across it and there are hills deeper inland, though the whole island looks small enough to fit inside the walls of Tyven. There is a cluster of log houses near the shore. You can see boats and people. Everything looks normal. No monsters, no Order.

  Hawke ties up the boat and helps you onto the dock. Already there are people to greet him, light skinned with reddish hair. They speak like many of the dock workers in Tyven, a bit growly but polite and easy to understand.

  Hawke shakes the hand of a bearded man of about thirty. His grey eyes are like the fog over a sea spray of freckles on his cheeks.

  “You didn’t spare a minute, did you?” he says. “What news from the king?”

  Hawke replies. “I didn’t stay for the announcement. Something more important came up.”

  The man looks at you. “Should we prepare for a wedding?”

  Hawke laughs. “No, just a couple empty beds and any food you can spare. I need a new ship so we’re leaving towards Maraway in the morning.”

  You find food and rest at the town’s tavern. The owner lets you stay in a spare room above the bar. While you eat Hawke tells you the bearded man’s name is Rhen, and that he takes care of the day-to-day business the town council is too “important” to deal with. Part way through the meal Rhen joins you. He is friendly and bright, and by the way he keeps looking at you can tell he likes you.

  When Hawke gets up to refill his goblet, Rhen moves closer to you. “It’s too bad you’re leaving tomorrow. You’re cute and I’d like to have shown you a good time.”

  Hawke sits back down and Rhen soon leaves to go about his errands. You and Hawke retire upstairs to get some rest.

  The sea chief is asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but you find it a bit harder to drift off. It is only mid-day but a fog has descended over the town making everything grey and dreary. Still you are unable to sleep.

  You go to the window. You can see into the building across the street, through a window opposite yours on the second floor. Rhen is sitting at a desk writing something. He stops and holds up the parchment, waving it in the air to dry the ink. He puts it back down, gazes up at the ceiling. He looks bored.

  Go over there.

  Try to get some rest.

  You leave your room at the inn, glancing back at the sleeping Hawke as you go. There are a few men eating and drinking downstairs but no one pays you much mind. You cross the foggy street and go up to Rhen’s room.

  You feel a thrill as you knock on the door. You don’t know if you should be doing this, but there you are all the same.

  Rhen answers the door. He smiles when he sees you and invites you in.

  “I can’t imagine you’re here on business,” he says.

  You push him backwards into the room as you undo his belt.

  He kisses you roughly and you bring his hand between your legs. He rubs you through your clothes, communicating his desire through the touch of his strong fingers.

  “Hawke’s not going to be upset?” he asks.

  You tell him to shut up and pull down his pants.

  You kneel in front of him, gently kissing his cock. He groans at the slightest touch of your lips. It doesn’t take much to make him hard. But you take your time, driving him wild with desire. You want him to be begging for it when you fuck him.

  The door opens behind you. Rhen pushes you off him, a string of spit still connecting your mouth to his cock.

  You turn to see Hawke standing in the doorway looking like he’s been slapped.

  “You need to go,” Hawke says to you.

  Rhen starts to apologize, but Hawke ignores him. You see the fear in the sea chief’s eyes and realize something has happened, something much bigger than an ill-advised blow job.

  You get up and go to the door as Rhen stuffs himself back into his pants. He starts after you.

  “Not you,” Hawke stops him. “You need to fight. ”

  You hear noise in the distance. A scream.

  “We’re under attack,” Hawke explains quickly. “A merchant ship arrived, but when they unloaded the cargo it was filled with creatures—the very same creatures we fled Tyven for. I thought we’d be safe here, but I only brought danger to more people.”

  Rhen puts a hand on Hawke’s shoulder. “Go get her somewhere safe.”

  Hawke nods and you follow him from the building. He stops you at the front door to make sure the coast is clear. Someone runs past you down the street, a woman with a pack of imps chasing after her. Hawke pulls you the other way towards the beach.

  “You can’t go to Maraway as planned. It’s too risky,” he says. “You have to leave the islands and head inland. They won’t be looking for you there.”

  You help him pull a small wooden boat from the upper beach into the water. You try to ignore the splash of something big swimming just off shore as you climb into the boat. It’s probably just a dolphin or a large school of fish. It’s hard to see anything in the fog.

  Hawke wades into the water to push the boat away from shore.

  “You’re not coming?” you ask him.

  “I have to stay and protect my people,” he replies, giving your boat one final push into the surf.

  You take the oars and row until you can row no further, then hoist the tiny sail though there is little wind to guide you. At least there are no more signs of the large swimming thing.

  Maybe if Hawke had stayed with you, he could have taken you somewhere safe. Somewhere where no one would ever find you. The edge of the world.

  But you are alone, and must flee into the unknown.

  Epilogue.

  You force yourself to lie down, resting your body even if your mind won’t follow. At some point you do manage to fall asleep. When you wake it is dark and Hawke is standing over you.

  “We have to go,” he says.

  You hear noise in the distance. A scream. You jump out of bed and follow Hawke out of the room.

  “The Order is here,” he explains as you flee. “It looked like a merchant ship but when they unloaded the cargo it was filled with those creatures. Rhen came to warn us. The people from the ship are looking for us.”

  He stops you at the door of the inn to make sure the coast is clear. Someone runs past you down the street, a woman with a pack of imps chasing after her. Hawke pulls you the other way towards the beach.

  “We can’t go to Maraway. It’s too risky,” he says. “We have to leave the islands and head inland. They won’t be looking for us there.”

  You help him pull a small wooden boat from the upper beach into the water. You try to ignore the splash of something big swimming just off shore as you climb into the boat. It’s p
robably just a dolphin or a large school of fish.

  The fog has lifted, but it is still cloudy and there are few stars to guide your way. Hawke rows with his powerful arms to get you away from shore, then hoists the tiny sail. You think an errant wave would drown you both. But the sea is calm, and there are no more signs of the large swimming thing.

  “I won’t let them get you,” Hawke says, perhaps noticing the worry in your face. He promises to take you somewhere safe, where no one will find either one of you. He knows of just such a place at the edge of the world.

  Epilogue.

  You go towards the centaur’s table. He is unable to take his eyes off you as you take a seat opposite the minotaur and elven woman.

  “Never seen a human woman before?” the elf teases him.

  The centaur smiles. “Not one this exquisite. Who are you?”

  You think of the forest, and the grey fog that clouds your memories before that. You introduce yourself as a noble from Doria.

  “What a pity,” the minotaur says to you. “Too far to go visit. Ever make it down to the southern sea?”

  You shake your head.

  The minotaur whispers something to the elven woman, who giggles. She says to you, “My friend and I were just about to retire to our chambers for a bit. Join us. We can show you how we pass the time in our homeland.”

  The centaur interrupts, “Or perhaps you would stay and drink with me instead.” His eyes gleam with the intoxication of both wine and lust.

  Join the couple upstairs.

  Stay with the centaur.

  You watch the bare-chested man, deciding how you’re going to get him away from all of those women.

  One of the women wrestles the wine carafe from a serving girl and refills the 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. You smile.

  “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.”

  You suggest, “Why don’t we get out of here, at least until those women cool down.”

  Hawke laughs. “Sounds like a plan.”

  You take his arm and he leads you out of the hall, past the women at the table who look like they might murder you in jealousy. You find a quiet alcove with a stone bench bathed in moonlight. Hawke makes himself comfortable on the bench, looking relieved to be away from the feast.

  You drape your arms across Hawke’s chest and he pulls you down onto his lap. His strong arms feel good around you.

  “You don’t have to keep pretending I’m your princess,” you tease.

  “But you are,” he replies. “For tonight, at least.”

  You gently stroke his chest letting your mind wander to what it would feel like pressed against your own naked breast, your sweat making your bodies stick.

  “I was only joking,” Hawke says, though he sees the desire in your eyes. You don’t even have to tell him what you were thinking of.

  He kisses you hard and you kiss him back with equal passion. Lips still locked you straddle him. His hands cup your breasts.

  “Someone could find us here,” he says between kisses.

  “Then we’ll be quick,” you reply nudging his trousers down.

  “People will talk.”

  “Let them,” you say, taking him inside you.

  Hawke bites your neck and grinds against you. It is like you’ve awoken a beast inside of him. His hands run up and down your arched back, his fingertips pressing into your soft skin. His skin smells like salt and sand, like a glimpse of summer amidst the cold, dusty stone of the castle. There is urgency in his movements, in yours. You are desperate to taste all of him in the short time you have.

  He moans loudly in your ear and you bite his shoulder. You don’t think you’ve ever come this fast in all your life. But it’s better this way. With the fire dying down you have time to savor the feeling of him inside you, your connection to him as your movements slow and you rest your head against his shoulder.

  “I think I hear someone coming,” Hawke says, gently pushing you off him. He tucks himself back into his trousers just in time for a guard to walk past. You try to feign innocence though you can feel the flush in your cheeks and the residual heat between your legs from the sea chief’s cock. Once the guard is gone Hawke suggests you get back to the feast.

  There is someone waiting for you when you return to the great hall.

  “Should I be jealous,” the faun asks with a wry smile, taking his time to size up the sea captain.

  The faun takes your arm, apologizing to Hawke for whisking you away. Hawke looks reluctant to leave you, but doesn’t challenge the faun.

  “It’s time,” the faun says once Hawke has left. “We must bring the world to heel.”

  He takes you into the upper reaches of the castle until you arrive at a stone archway draped with black curtains. Beyond it is a room filled with robed figures, along with some guests from the feast in their fine clothes. Red candles are placed on different surfaces and in sconces. Many of the nobles are in various states of undress, occupying themselves with the shackled slaves both human and demonic that are apparently here for their entertainment.

  Your gaze falls on the king seated in a plush chair, a buxom woman bobbing her head between his legs. Beside him are several uncomfortable-looking guardsmen.

  “Kitten,” Vale says extracting himself from a couple of scantily clad slaves. The fingertips of his leather gloves glisten in the candlelight.

  “And who is this?” the mage asks.

  The faun changes back into his true form. The goat-horned demon towers over the party’s guests.

  “My lord.” Vale bows on one knee before the hoofed feet of the Old One. The Old One strokes his hair and then beckons him to stand.

  “I thank you for your service,” the Old One says, “of inviting me into your realm. Your duties have been fulfilled.”

  Vale looks confused. “I have a kingdom to run.”

  The Old One laughs. “Can you not feel it? This little kitten is no longer yours. She is mine, and she possesses my power. She will rule.”

  Vale’s eyes flash red. “No, she didn’t even want this. I forced her to complete the ritual. I bound her here with my magic. She cares nothing for this new world I’ve created. I will be its master.”

  He shouts something in Dorian and the guests clear to the edges of the room, revealing a large circular symbol carved in the stone floor right below where you and the Old One are standing. It must be a binding circle. The Old One is trapped.

  “Take his dagger,” the Old One tells you. “Strike it into the stones and free me.”

  Vale steps backwards out of the circle watching you closely.

  Attack Vale for his dagger.

  Run.

  You decide not to take advantage of your powers just yet, and instead enjoy the feast’s food and drink and light conversation. After a while you find that the wine
has gone to your head and you leave the great hall for some fresh air.

  The castle’s entryway is much quieter, cooler, and you feel a lot better already. To your left is the grand staircase leading up into the castle. To your right are the castle’s gates, barred closed against monsters and manned by two guards. You approach the guards, hoping to ask them about what is going on outside. Is the rest of the town safe? Have the monsters taken over?

  “Watch out!” one of the guards yells, and you feel something large land on your back. It’s muggy warmth makes your skin crawl as it humps against you, its many arms clinging to you. It’s the spider-goblin from earlier tonight. It trips you and starts dragging you backwards away from the gate.

  One of the guards moves to help you but the other holds him back. The spider-goblin drags you through a narrow doorway into a dusty side passage. You can only watch as the gate grows farther away.

  The spider-goblin tears at your dress. Its unholy appendage bumps against the bare skin of your back. You feel fangs sink into the skin of your neck and a tingling feeling flow downwards through your body as the spider’s venom paralyzes you. You can’t move, but you can still feel.

  Your panties are ripped to shreds. The creature’s slimy appendage pushes against your opening, its flat head failing to penetrate and instead bumping against your clit. You moan weakly.

  It thrusts again and again, still failing to squeeze inside of you. Your body grows hot, preparing to be bred. The creature seems to sense this change in you and pauses to properly line up for one last thrust. You can feel its large member pushing you open, your pussy actually inviting the infernal appendage inside you inch by inch. The creature chitters as it enjoys the feeling of your warmth.

  You will your body to move, but the spider-goblin’s poison is far too strong. You can only lie there as the creature breeds you. You hope the necklace around your neck does what Vale says it does, that it will protect you against bearing the creature’s demonic offspring.