History of Beauty

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History of Beauty Page 19

by Meraki P. Lyhne


  “I need a…” Out the corner of Elakdon’s eye, he saw purple eyes. “Guard Lady?”

  “Yes, Nol?”

  “Feed me, but not a dose. I have to starve to Empower.”

  “I shall please you well, Nol.”

  Uh, an active Succubus. Maybe his ass would see some action after all.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Water. Oh, the curse of the gods! Why would one drink so much the night before waking up so thirsty?

  Elakdon coughed and tried to roll out of bed, but things were still rolling. “No!”

  “Hmm?”

  Elakdon flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He didn’t feel well. He then heard people laughing and singing, yet Árvark and Alsviðr had long since ridden across the sky with the sun on their chariot. He’d had one horn of mead, and people were still up. He was a child when it came to drinking.

  “Nol?”

  Elakdon turned his head, finding the Succubus from the night before looking at him, and she seemed way more alert that he was.

  “Please tell me that you didn’t drink mead last night?”

  “Of course not, Nol, I was on your watch.” She smiled. “As I have been all night.”

  “I’m…”

  “Thirsty?” It didn’t look like it was a surprise to her, and she immediately left the bed.

  Elakdon enjoyed the view as she went. But his spinning head, the dull throb, and parched throat took his enjoyment of watching her curves out of it.

  She soon returned with a bladder full of water, and Elakdon drank greedily from the coolness.

  But he felt better from it. Well enough to get out of bed and into his clothes. As he was securing his leg binders, his new thrall, Sune, came in with a bowl full of water.

  “Would you like to wash up, Master?”

  “Nol, please call me Nol.”

  “Yes, Nol.”

  Elakdon sat back, and the boy held the bowl under his face for Elakdon to wash his face, swill his mouth, and rinse his nose. He liked the feel of his beard growing in. He was finally allowed to as he was now an empowered Incubus, yet it was nowhere near as impressive as Styrk’s.

  “My Guard Lords from other lands stick out from the population by not having facial hair,” Elakdon said.

  “Do you require them to have it?”

  “If we are to not look too different from the ones we live with, then yes.”

  “Also, the followers of the new God shave their beards,” she said, pulling on her own clothes.

  Elakdon looked up, surprised. “They definitely need a beard then!”

  “I shall pass your order along to them.”

  “Thank you.” Elakdon stood and left the room, the singing and partying too loud for his head, but he had promised a party worthy of being remembered. He had not expected to find Trygve at the table with a thrall girl on his lap and a horn of mead in his hand. She was laughing and feeding him meat, and he, in turn, fed her mead from the horn.

  “Good morning, King Nol,” the Earl said as Elakdon took his seat.

  “Just Nol. It means sovereign in our tongue.”

  “Ah, good to know. You look ready for round two of this party.”

  Elakdon laughed. “I think food should start this day.”

  “Yes. With mead.” Trygve pushed the plate of greasy meat and overcooked vegetables at Elakdon, then slapped the thrall girl’s ass. “Fetch us more mead.”

  She giggled and staggered off, and Elakdon hurried to eat something before she made it back with a horn full.

  “Have you not slept at all?” Elakdon asked.

  “Oh, yes, I had a moment or two here and there. Do not worry, Nol, tolerance to the mead will come with age, but you at least know when to withdraw. Some are not good at that.” Trygve pointed down the table to where a man slept on the table, lying on his stomach, legs sticking out one side, his head falling over the other.

  Luckily, Elakdon didn’t recognize him as one of his own, but considering the sheer number of Cubi in the woods around them, the man could be.

  But he soon recognized the need for fresh air. “Shall we go take a look at the field between us and talk about the Hall of Friendship?”

  “Yes. I have given it a lot of thought. Talking to some of the purple-eyes here, I also have a thought I would like to run past you.”

  “Purple-eyes? Father?”

  “Yes, and Lo…Lokdon?”

  “That sounds like one who would seek out your company, yes.”

  “Is he someone with a say around here?”

  “He is someone I listen to when he speaks.”

  “Good. Smart man.”

  Lokdon or Elakdon? Elakdon wasn’t curious enough to ask, though, so he left it at that, accepted the horn with mead that the thrall girl returned with, and stood.

  He and Trygve then left the Hall, Dendon and another Guard Lord following at a distance.

  Trygve kept glancing their way. “Will they be following us that closely all the time?”

  “Yes. I have yet to learn the rules for my Guards that they have trained their entire lives to uphold. I would like to focus on furthering our friendship before taking on that lecture.”

  “I see. I will be patient with them, then, and not see it as an insult to the trust we are supposed to be building between us.”

  “Oh, it has absolutely nothing to do with that. Did I walk here with my mom, they would be here, too.”

  Trygve nodded and held up his horn. They clanked them together hard enough for the mead to swap, then drank from the horns with moderation.

  “Did you know that I have had three men of the cloth run from the town?”

  Elakdon chuckled. “I have heard them come here and complain and expecting to find better hospitality in Father’s Halls.”

  Trygve laughed. “I’m sure I know his response.”

  Elakdon merely nodded.

  “But they come back. That is what the other Earls experienced when refusing them. They come back in greater numbers, and they will stand on squares and bellow their teaching and tell people their souls will end up in an everlasting fire.”

  “What is a soul?” Elakdon asked.

  “Yes, well, they believe that when we die, our body stays here, and only the soul moves on.”

  “What about what we are buried with?”

  “Nothing moves on from here, only that soul, and it will either go to Heaven to sit with God and his son, or it will burn in Hell.”

  “Why would Hel burn our souls for him?”

  “It is not the realm of our goddess Hel. I think they just took that name for themselves.”

  Elakdon grumbled under his breath.

  Trygve stopped and pointed up the steep. “It is not directly between us, and it goes into the forest, but that plane up there would be a good place to make the hall. All of us can see it. It will be something for us to…look up to, the symbol of it being held high is the point as the idea of our closeness is an idea to be held high. Strived for.”

  Elakdon had to agree.

  “We have the timber needed from the woods around us.”

  “But not the lands for the roof. Unless we make it of wooden tiles.” Elakdon turned and looked at their own Hall. It had straw, and what had been added to be his hall had new straw. It would delay the project if they had to wait for enough to grow for the new hall. “Do you have a Karl with the skills to make them?”

  “No. Or I would have them on my hall. I need a new roof, too, yet Father did not share.”

  “We can ask Styrk. He might know. He is very crafty when it comes to wood. If I find one among my people who is good at it, he will teach a human.”

  Trygve nodded, thinking. “Do you read?”

  “Yes, Father teaches all of us.”

  “I only read very little. Only one or two in our town does.”

  Elakdon looked at the Earl as he heard regret there. “In this hall, we can teach each other. We can teach the children. They will then grow up
knowing more than the trade of their father and mother.”

  “Again, your people have everything, and we have nothing to offer.” Bitterness laced his tone.

  Elakdon placed his hand on the Earl’s shoulder. “That is not true, Trygve. We have always come to town for Bo to forge for us. And Inga makes far better fabrics than we do. Tora made these.” He pointed to his leg binders. “She is very creative in patterns. And Halfdan makes the best bows. He has quite the eye for the spine of a tree. His bows are strong and last longer.”

  Trygve smiled.

  “And your friendship is important to me as I must know more about human Ting. Please teach me.”

  Trygve grew a bit taller as he straightened his back. “Will you then teach me to read?”

  Elakdon spat in his hand and held it out. Trygve did the same and grabbed Elakdon’s.

  “Have you given thought to the interior?” Trygve asked, once again pointing to the top of the steepness. He began walking that way.

  “No, I have feed and been…drunk.”

  Trygve laughed. “Being the drink of the gods, mead can sometimes offer ideas, you know.”

  They stopped at the top of the slope and turned around to see the land of the Cubi to the right and the human village to the left. It was a good location as Trygve had pointed out.

  “Maybe it should be a place with only one plane. To mark us all as equals in here.”

  “But not you and I.”

  “Yes, us too. We have our places in each our hall, yet here we meet on equal terms to be on equal terms. Here, all are friends.”

  Trygve nodded slowly. “Yes. That is important. I see that.” He then turned to face Elakdon. “To friendship.” He held out his horn.

  So did Elakdon. “May it grow strong here.”

  They both spilled mead on the ground where they were to build and thus urged the Vætter to protect that land and make for favorable conditions. They then drank from their horns, both apparently feeling stronger from it. Trygve certainly looked hopeful.

  They then made their way back toward the Cubi Hall, while hunger began stirring on Elakdon’s skin. He should have fed on the Guard Lady, yet his head had not been in any state as he left the bed.

  The mead was beginning to announce its presence in his body, and his brain grew foggy again, yet moderation would keep it at bay enough to not have to retire early again.

  “We can call the Hall Frænde of Lep,” Elakdon suggested. “And we can have Hugin and Munin on each side so that we may always remember and think about the union we create.”

  “Lep?”

  “It means union in our tongue, so we have a human word and a Cubi word.”

  “What does Cubi mean?”

  “It is the name that we call our people. It means to lie. As in lie down. We do that a lot to feed.”

  Trygve laughed. “What a poetic name.”

  They made it back inside the noisy hall, and Elakdon sought out someone to feed him. Styrk was once again under a powerful dose, and the purple clouding his eyes was growing stronger. Foldon and another Youngling were arm wrestling at their table, and Elakdon smiled at soon being able to empower his House Brother. He would soon win the arm wrestling even with Younglings older than himself. His eyes would probably take color long before the others’. If he accepted being Elakdon’s Fountain, that was. It was the only way for him to become a Guard Lord someday, so Elakdon felt pretty sure that Foldon would accept on those grounds alone.

  His dick throbbed harder as his eyes took in the magnificent physique of his friend, and he grabbed it and squeezed.

  “I see where your eyes go.”

  Elakdon looked up at his mom’s voice. “Tomorrow,” he whispered.

  She smiled. “Come, let us find someone you can feed on now.” She put her arm around him and steered him through the crowd, every physical contact with a Cubus increasing the need burning on his skin.

  Before they made it to her chosen destination, she held her nose.

  Elakdon was at the point where he didn’t care anymore. He needed someone and grabbed the one closest to him, spinning her to face him and press against her. It was a red-eye.

  “No dosing yet, Ela, come on.”

  The Succubus in his arm pouted as Windin made her step back.

  “May I?” a purple-eyed Succubus asked.

  “Please. But no dosing,” Windin said.

  “I have heard the need for his dose to be strong and pure. I will see to it.”

  Windin let go and dashed off, while the Succubus grabbed Elakdon and pulled him close. Hunger rose, and Elakdon gave into it.

  Fed and with a new horn full of mead, Elakdon found his seat at the head of the main table. Father sat with a Cub around age three on his knee, reminding Elakdon that he would soon be a big brother. Styrk sat further down the table, whittling away at a piece of wood, while a Cub age twelve or thereabout sat across with his own piece of wood and a knife. He had a long way to go, but once in a while Styrk looked up and gave a few pointers for the Cub to try out.

  Humans and Cubi mingled, talked, laughed, humped, and a sudden commotion meant someone was brawling. Elakdon and Father got up to see who it was.

  “Two purple,” Father said, taking a seat with the Cub again.

  “So no intervening?” Elakdon asked.

  “Nah, they are somewhat equal in strength.”

  “Meaning our furniture is in danger.”

  “Ah, well, that I have always punished. If they don’t break anything or hurt someone else, I don’t care.”

  “High Father!” Styrk shouted.

  Harrodon looked up, then caught something coming his way. He looked at it, grinning, then nodded at Styrk and gave the thing to the Cub. It was a little bear, and the Cub squealed in delight and studied the little figure.

  Trygve came to lean over Elakdon. “Riders from another area have just arrived, surprised at being met by a ring of gods around this village.”

  “Yes, we do not have room for all in here.”

  “Yes, well, they come bearing news of a Ting. Humans have been called in to attend.”

  “Not us?”

  “No, it regards the human kings, and one has died. One is…well, rising as you.”

  “What is his name?”

  “Harald, son of King Gorm of Jutland.”

  “Gorm the Old died almost a year ago. What news has come of the rising King to call Ting?” Father asked. “He is not the King of this part, so why?”

  “His cousin, Sigfred, is now dead, so Harald is now King of all. He will be at Ting.” Trygve looked at Elakdon. “I think you should come with me. If you want a union between humans and Cubi, this is where you have to accomplish it.”

  Father smacked his lips. “I agree with Trygve.”

  Wow, those words had to be difficult to wring out of his mouth. Trygve’s expression even indicated he thought the same.

  “On our way there, we can meet with other Earls and promote unity against what moves in on us, our country, and our gods. The King of Danes might be more favorable if you already have more Earls on your side.”

  “I’d like that,” Elakdon said. “But we must speak with the King and Queen of the other Kingdoms about this, too.”

  “Why? They are not the rulers of this Kingdom, you are.”

  “Unity is something the Cubi people take very close to heart, Trygve. It is what makes us strong. What happens in one Kingdom can affect the others, which is why the rise of a new King makes them gather where one rises.” Father held out his arm as to introduce the hoard of Cubi present.

  “More changes always follow a change,” Elakdon said.

  “You know best about your Kingdom, of course. I didn’t mean to sound like I criticized you. I merely wanted to understand.”

  Trygve left, and Elakdon stood.

  “That’s a first,” Father said.

  “What is?”

  “That he didn’t mean to criticize. You have earned his respect as you set out to
do. I applaud your success, young Prince.” Father smiled and winked. “Now go be useful to your people.”

  “Yes, about that.” Elakdon took a seat again. “I want you at my right side.”

  The calm on Father’s face fell, and he stared at Elakdon agape. “As Lokil-Nol?”

  “I cannot think of anyone more suitable at the moment.”

  Father bowed his head. “I am honored, and I will of course take that place until you find someone better suited.” Father stood and brought the Cub around the table to sit with Styrk.

  Elakdon and Father then made their way through the crowd to find Nil-Savadin and Nol-Plydon. Easily enough as Trygve had already found them, and Nol-Plydon was feeding on a red-eye on the hnefatafl table, the young Incubus was screaming and writhing under the dose, his legs locked firmly around Nol-Plydon’s body as to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere before he’d sucked that dose out of him.

  Elakdon’s dick got hard from watching. He loved the desperate sounds escaping the red-eye. Suddenly, a red dose spurted from his mouth, and the King groaned loudly and sped up. An orgasm raked the red-eyes body, and they both stilled.

  “Oh, you are delicious,” Nol-Plydon said, leaning in to kiss the red-eye deeply. He then pulled back to lick the red-eye’s semen from his stomach, while the red-eye stayed lax on the table, heaving for air and grinning goofily at the ceiling.

  Nol-Plydon finally pulled the naked Cubus off the table and pulled him close to whisper in his ear. They chatted like that for a minute before the red-eye left, bowing his head to Elakdon as he passed to be with his friends, waiting and murmuring at the next table.

  The old King took a seat, not bothering with clothes. Trygve looked a bit hesitant as he took a seat next to the naked King, but he didn’t comment.

  “I have officially asked High Father to function as Lokil-Nol,” Elakdon started with.

  “I recognize you, Lokil-Nol,” both Nil-Savadin and Nol-Plydon said to Father, and he bowed his head.

  “What is that?” Trygve asked.

 

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